They had obtained the warrant to search Sampson's house at last. It had taken longer than she would have liked, even though Angela had been quick with her reconstruction, and it had easily matched up with Sampson. She had double checked it several times, already, and had confirmed that the structure definitely matched up with his. There was no way they were wrong.

Hodgins was lamenting the lack of samples, but Cam seemed to be the most at a loss for what to do. With Brennan so clearly in charge of the team, and no flesh or internal organs for her to analyze, she was standing around for the most part, and trying to help with ideas. Her and Booth had been tossing theories off each other most of that morning, which had been good because she didn't want any distractions from what she was trying to do.

It turned out that Nigel had been called north for a family emergency, and they were out of luck as far as he went in helping them. For this one, she was on her own. It wasn't that she wasn't capable, just that an extra set of hands and eyes would have been greatly appreciated.

She found herself missing Zach more than she had at all recently. She sighed softly as she tried to keep her focus on the bones as well as on what Booth was doing. The warrant had come in, after all, and they would surely be leaving any minute to go investigate Sampson's house.

Finally, she heard Booth start to shift away towards the stairs, and she straightened up, placing the bones neatly back in their places, and stripped off her gloves.

"Ready to go?" she asked as she moved away from the body.

"Uh... yeah, about that," he murmured, glancing at the others and then gently taking hold of her arm as he led her down from the platform and over to the doors, where they could talk quietly and not be overheard. "Bones, I'm not sure you should be coming with me."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, Bones, I'm dead serious. Do you remember what happened with Lemaire?"

She glared. "And the chances of that happening again are ridiculous. We aren't even looking for a live person; we're looking around an abandoned home!"

"For all we know, he had an accomplice or something."

"An accomplice for what? Last time I checked, he was the victim here!" Her voice was rising, but she didn't care.

"Victim, yeah, sure. But overall, he's a pawn in something a hell of a lot bigger than him. I'm not risking something happening to you. Especially not now."

She gritted her teeth. "I'm not hiding in the lab. Why you would even think that is beyond me. I'm going wherever it is you're going. If it's dangerous, then why do you get to go in?"

"Because I have a gun, and I'm a trained special agent," he said, his tone turning patient... which only irritated her further. Just because she was pregnant, she didn't need to change every aspect of her life. She would do anything to protect the unborn life inside of her... but she was not going to allow herself to be coddled to this ridiculous level that he seemed to have envisioned.

"Then give me a gun," she snapped. "I know multiple types of martial arts and self-defense. I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself. And yes, that does mean I'm capable of protecting both of us," she added in a hiss. She knew he'd know what she meant.

He seemed to hesitate, "Fine," he sighed, "But we are going to set a specific date that you're going to start keeping yourself in the lab full time. Because you are not coming to crime scenes in seven months."

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously. Now come on, let's go." She didn't doubt that she wasn't going to enjoy being trapped indoors with a variety of unpleasant pregnancy-induced symptoms, but for now she wasn't going to worry about it. There were things going on right now that were much more immediate.

According to the doctor that she had visited, Booth insisting on holding her hand the whole time for some reason, she was due on August 14th. There was still plenty of time to get prepared.

It was a twenty minute ride over to Sampson's house, and they discussed the case for most of the trip, rather than personal matters. He'd apparently gotten the hint that she didn't want to be considered disabled, or treated any differently. She was glad.

"So, have you had any reporters after you recently, that I didn't know about? Even if it was just one quick question, or something you saw as insignificant, it might help."

"Nothing," she said with a sigh. "I mean, I got a few emails, but they were all through my agent and my publisher... all the people that are involved directly with me on a regular basis about my books anyways."

"And since... last May?"

"We'd have to talk to my agent," she said, staring out the window as they stopped at a red light. She was slightly annoyed that he hadn't let her drive. "She handles everything like that. After I made it clear that I didn't want to talk about anything that had happened, or give a statement... she backed off. But I'm sure she was asked a lot of questions about me and... why I was keeping out of the public eye. Not that I was ever in it to begin with, but... y'know."

He nodded, a sad light in his eyes. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"You don't think someone's been... interested in that, do you?"

"Bones, that's what I'm most worried about right now. Whoever this is, they might have seen this as some sort of... competition. They could be deranged, and fighting for a..." he swallowed and gripped the steering wheel. "A story," he managed to choke out.

She nodded thoughtfully, trying not to let the exact words get to her. This was an objective conversation. She needed to make it about something besides herself, or she would never be able to focus properly.

"That does make sense. I mean... I am relatively well known. What happened to me... it could be a big break for a small reporter to get his name out there."

Booth winced, and she knew exactly how he felt. She didn't much like the idea either... that someone would think of her suffering as a way to gain something for themselves. It seemed wrong, and it hurt. But yet, it was the truth; there were people out there who would do it. And whatever had gone on here, with Sampson... at least some part of it had to be related to her.

"Do you think Sampson gave up after I filed the restraining order? I didn't see him around at all after I got it, but I wasn't paying much attention after... everything."

"Well, we'll find out in a second, I'm sure," Booth said grimly as he stopped the vehicle in front of a small blue house with an unruly yard. Clearly, no one had been taking care of the place since... well, whenever Sampson had gone missing. "I'd appreciate if you kept an eye out, and stayed behind me until I clear the place, okay?" he said as they got out and made their way up the walk.

"Fine," she agreed begrudgingly, but kept close behind him as he rapped on the door, called out the usual demands for it to be opened, and then stepped back and used his shoulder to bust it open. They both listened in the following silence, but there was no sounds of breaking glass, or running footsteps. Cautiously, they made their way into the entrance hallway.

"Stay by the door," he said firmly as he bent down and pulled a gun from his ankle, passing it to her. "Do not get trigger-happy," he hissed, his eyes serious. "Because if you see someone, it will probably be me coming back."

He vanished into the next room, and she watched as he pointed his gun in the corners, yanked open a closet door, and then made his way through to the adjoining room.

She wanted very much to take the door to the right and begin her own sweep of the house, but she decided against it. He wouldn't be pleased, and he'd probably redo the rooms that she checked anyways, just to be sure for himself. But she wasn't going to just stand idle. She headed into the room to the left, which he had already cleared, and began to look at the items that were present there.

Nothing seemed very personal; there was furniture facing an old and beat up television set, and tables with small decorations. Everything was covered in a thick coat of dust. Silently, she followed the route she'd seen Booth take, bringing her into what appeared to be a dining room of sorts. Nothing extraordinary.

Down a hallway, she found herself in a bedroom, and then a small bathroom. A door and a tight corner brought her into a tiny kitchen.

"Bones?" she heard his voice calling from the other side of a wall. She headed for the nearest door, and found herself in a small and empty room. A shadow was visible in the doorway leading back to the entrance hall, and she tensed slightly until she was certain it was Booth.

"Right here," she said. He spun around in surprise, and then exhaled a deep breath.

"I thought I told you to stay put," he said irritably. She shrugged, and began to look around the dusty room. Why was it so empty? Surely it must have had some purpose... there weren't even boxes of storage piled in the corners, as she might have expected of a spare and useless room.

"Where does that go?" she said, pointing up to a trap door in the corner of the ceiling. Immediately he was at her side, staring up at it as well.

"We're going to find out," he said stiffly, and then stepped into the adjoining room and grabbed a chair, putting it to the side of the door. He would have climbed up, but she easily beat him to it.

"Your back," she said by way of explanation, and then undid the latch. He stood to the ready, gun aimed, but the only thing that greeted them was a very large cloud of dust. They both coughed uncontrollably for a short while, guns still drawn, and then she hoisted herself lightly up through the hole in the ceiling, making use of her martial arts training as she twisted herself and used her upper body strength to lever her body into the small attic space.

"Careful," he warned. "...What do you see?"

She fumbled around a moment, and then found a dangling string that she pulled. A dull light bulb, coated in dust, flickered on over her head, revealing a sight that had her speechless for a long moment.

"Me," she finally whispered, her eyes huge and her mouth hanging slightly open as she stared around in half-shock, half-horror, at the crowded little space, half-stooped to avoid the slanting ceiling. "There are... there are a lot of pictures of... me."

I'm not a big fan of this chapter overall, because it didn't flow as well as I would have liked... but I'll let you all tell me what you thought.