AP Tests = Done. Stress = Gone. Me = HAPPY.

I worked on this earlier this week as a sort of... calming technique. So I hope you all are happy with the early update. Enjoy!!

The moment her phone indicated an incoming call she snatched it up, not even allowing it to finish it's first ring before she demanded, "Booth?" into the receiver.

"Not quite."

She opened and closed her mouth, at a loss. "Dad?"

"Hey sweetheart. How are you doing?"

Wonderful. Some creepy stalker is after me, I just got kicked out of the crime scene and relegated to lab duty, I'm stressed about being pregnant, and on top of all of that now I have to somehow pull of a conversation with you, when you haven't called since... around Christmas?

"I'm fine."

"...You don't sound fine." Trust him to figure that out from just four words. She really wasn't in the mood to deal with this. She was frustrated, and annoyed, and just a little freaked out. Not that she would admit to the last one, because... she simply wouldn't. No one needed to know she was bothered by this, because the less they knew, the better chance she had of making herself more objective about the whole thing. "Is everything alright with you and Booth?"

"Perfect. Listen, Max, I've had a busy day at work, and I'm still rather swamped." She looked around at the chaos of her office, and avoided Angela's eyes. At least she was being completely honest.

"Oh... yeah, I understand."

"How's Russ?" She had to know before he put an awkward end to their already uncomfortable conversation. Not that her brother had bothered trying to call her either. He'd been up in Maine since January with Amy and the kids, spending time with some of her family. They'd spoken just once or twice since Christmas, and from their short talks she'd gathered that he was considering making the permanent move. Amy seemed to love it up north, away from the bustle of the city.

"He's doing well; I haven't seen him since Christmas, though."

There was a silence while she tried to figure out what to say next. It didn't seem like he was going to fill the gap, so she asked for herself. "What have you been doing?"

"Odd jobs here and there... I'm actually back in Virginia now, though... I was wondering if you wouldn't mind a visit?"

At least she knew why he'd called now. A small flicker of happiness went up, but not very strongly. He wanted to see her; that didn't mean that things were normal, or that everything was going to back to the way it had been before last May. But it did mean that he wanted to see her. That meant a lot, at this point.

"Maybe... this weekend?" she suggested.

Angela stood up suddenly, drawing Brennan's attention. Her friend went to the door and opened it for a box-laden Cam, who carried in her load and set it down with the rest, sighing as she observed the state of disarray that was in existence.

"That sounds great, Tempe... Booth won't mind?"

She frowned. Since when did he care if Booth minded? Max always did what he wanted, or what he thought was best for his family. She was aware that he approved of her choice in Booth, but she hadn't expected the question.

"I'm sure he'll be fine with it. We're free this weekend; we just had Parker not too long ago, so his weekend won't be for a while to come. Can you call me back Saturday; I really should get back to what I was doing. My team needs me."

"I- yeah, sure. Go solve murders. I'll see you soon. Love you."

"Love you, too," she said, but there was a pause before she managed to get the words out, and she hoped they didn't sound too insincere. She just wasn't sure if she trusted him at all, or if this was even a good idea. Maybe she should have checked with Booth before considering this weekend as a possibility.

She slid the cell back into her pocket, and raised her eyebrows at the two other woman in the room, who had both been watching her. Cam immediately looked away, but Angela met her gaze steadily, and with a bit of curiosity.

"Your father's coming to visit?" she questioned.

"Sounds like it," she said with a shrug. This wasn't something she wanted having a great deal of discussion on. She wanted to get back to work, no matter how tedious and frustrating it was. "Can we get back to... this?"

"Of course," Cam said, cracking open one of the new boxes and passing around fresh stacks of envelopes to each of them.

"You know, Hodgins should really be helping with this," Ange muttered as she slid a finger through to tear open the top of a crisp white envelope.

"Another boring one," Cam muttered as she placed her latest letter down in the pile to her right. "Although I'd be concerned if I got any of these, to be honest. They all sound like they want to know you personally, and the hero-worship stuff is making Daisy look tame."

Brennan gave a derisive snort that wasn't quite a laugh. "I suppose you haven't seen the photographs from Booth's crime scene. I'm sure they'll be all over here soon enough."

Angela aimed a concerned look in her direction, but she ignored it and scanned through another neatly typed letter praising her writing skills and asking eager questions about the fate of the Andy and Kathy relationship. She put it aside and grabbed another.

"This guy thinks you are a 'god of writers,' but he doesn't seem to be the stalker-ish type, from the rest of the letter," Ange said a moment later, holding up a hand-written note on stationary paper. "Y'know, maybe we should call Sweets in on this. He could tell us what type of paper the guy would use, or something, and we could narrow it down so we don't have to actually read any more of these..."

"I've always hated the concept of fan mail," Brennan muttered as she put another one aside. "I don't even understand why any of these people bother at all. They all seem rather eager for me to write more books, but yet they think I have time between my career as a forensic anthropologist to answer all of their questions personally as well."

"There are a lot of people that would kill to have enough fame to have crazy fans, actually," Angela informed them seriously before she winced. "Sorry, that didn't sound right, considering... But, hey, at least we can be grateful that I have the computer searching through the emails for key phrases... Cam, can you pass me another stack?"

Their boss nodded and reached into the box, passing off another thick bundle to the artist before she focused back on the letter in her hand.

"Oh, God," she said, coughing.

"What?" was Brennan's immediate question as she leaned closer.

"It smells like a nursing home. God, what did she do, pour her perfume all over this thing?"

Angela managed a chuckle, but didn't look up from her own reading.

Brennan sighed and focused back on her own stack, her hand straying to her pocket as she checked rather pointlessly to see if she had missed a call. There was no way she would have missed it if she had, but she felt restless. Maybe she should just call him.

Why he hadn't called yet, though, was what was mostly concerning her. She wanted to know what was going on, and what else they'd found. And, even though psychology was mostly worthless, she wanted to know what Sweets had to say on what he'd observed in that attic.

Mostly... she just wanted to hear his voice. Today had been long, and... painful. Seeing pictures taken of herself, that she hadn't been aware of... that was bad enough. Seeing them of herself at her most vulnerable, at a stage in her life that she never wanted to revisit... that was far worse. She felt exposed, and even more vulnerable because of it. There was a reason Booth had rarely seen her broken down in those weeks following the assault, and she had never wanted that to change. For him to suddenly learn that she hadn't been nearly as together as she'd put out to him and everyone else... what must he think? Those pictures showed who she was when she thought no one was watching, after all, and that was the most revealing they could possibly have been. That was a side of herself that she hid, because generally people left if they saw how completely helpless she was when she lost her control.

She really needed him to call.

"This one might be something." Angela's voice drew her out of her reverie, and she leaned over to look at the handwritten note her friend was holding. "It starts with a poem, for one," Ange said, raising an eyebrow. "If that isn't creepy enough, it goes on to... describe you, and all your talents... God, Booth would strangle this guy, even if he isn't the one we're looking for..."

"Put it in the possibilities pile," Brennan said, nodding her head towards a very small stack that contained the other border-line concerning letters. None that they had read had been threatening so far, but they weren't even halfway through, and as far as order went, they were still at the ones received in late 2008 and early 2009. She didn't want to get to the ones after May... they would probably all be filled with speculation and questions, and that was the last thing she wanted to put up with today.

The door of her office opened suddenly, without a knock, and Hodgins stood there, holding it open, his eyes lit up with excitement.

"I was working on identifying what was used to clean the bones, and on my analysis of the soil content from the surrounding area... and your computer started beeping."

He addressed the words straight to Angela, who was instantly on her feet, the other two women directly behind her as they hurried from the office and up onto the lab platform.

Before she had the chance to start reading the email that was flashing on Angela's screen, the artist was typing and other pages started opening onto the screen.

"Oh, wow..." she breathed, staring with wide eyes as she skimmed through them.

"Explain the wow, please?" Cam said with just a tinge of impatience.

Angela turned to face them, her hand still on the computer mouse and her eyes wide. Not with excitement, but rather with concern and just a bit of... fear.

"Darrin McAllister; that's who these are all from. Listen..." she leaned over and began to read out the words on what was presumably the first letter. "Dear Temperance, I have found your books to be fascinating and brilliant, and I know that only a true genius could have written them. I feel as though you were speaking directly to me; like you understand me perfectly. I wish more than anything that I could have grown up with you, because I feel as though we know each other from another life, and I would give anything to simply hold your hand." She turned from the screen and raised an eyebrow. "That's not the worst of it, either."

"Alright, I'm creeped out, and I'm not even you," Hodgins said, breaking the silence.

"Go on, Angela, read the others," she instructed, ignoring her other coworker's comment.

With a worried crease across her forehead, the artist turned back and breathed out a slow sigh before launching into the next one.

"Dearest Temperance, your latest novel was as brilliant as your others, and on a different level of fascination. You are truly an artist in your ability to weave characters. I often imagine myself as Andy, with you playing the role of brilliant young Kathy. In fact, I can't see it any other way. I was sorry to not get a response on my previous message to you, but I know that you are so busy, that you must not have the time. I take solace from knowing that you at least have read it, and know that you have made an impact in my life, and continue to do so. I will write again."

"Keep going," she prompted when Angela finished.

With a sigh, her friend clicked to the next email.

"Tempe, I feel as though you are ignoring me on purpose, and I wonder what I did to turn you against me so. I wish for your happiness above all else, and so I am concerned. You did not recognize my name at the book signing, but I was too shy to remind you of my messages to you, because we were in such a public place, and I assumed you would want to talk for longer. I wouldn't want to pull you away from your work, when I know it is so important to you. With all my love, I ask you to respond to this email. I want very badly to hear from you."

"I don't like this guy," Hodgins murmured. Without prompting, Angela went on this time on her own.

"No greeting this time," she said softly. "You are avoiding me. You have made no attempt to make contact. I will not ask again after this. I must speak with you, in person. Respond, and tell me where to meet you and when."

"Angela, why did your computer tag this specific writer?" Cam questioned calmly. "I get that it's... creepy. But what made it pick up on it?"

"This one," Angela said, clicking to the last window she had open. "I set a series of words for the program to look for, and this one came up with the most hits... it's new. From just a few days ago..." her eyes flicked through, reading it in full, before she shook her head and stepped away, fighting back tears, and pushed both Hodgins and Cam back, shooting her a look that clearly said she needed to read it alone, and silently.

Taking a breath, she stepped forward and began to read through the email.

I know what happened, and I'm not sorry. For avoiding me, you got what you deserved. And now, you'll see again what happens when I don't get what I want. You make it very hard for me to love you, but I still do, and I will do anything to make sure we are together. Be warned that you have no future without me. We belong together.

"The... the writing ability is very poor," she commented, her voice shaking more than she'd like it to.

"I noticed," Ange said softly. She turned to see that both Cam and Hodgins were gone completely from the platform. It was just her and her friend left relatively alone; a few lab techs and students were at the other end of the lab, working in a large group on something. "That's not what concerns me, though."

"We'll have Cam double security, and I'm with Booth whenever I'm not here. I'll be perfectly safe. I think we should have an agent assigned to you and Hodgins, though, and Cam should probably have one as well. I don't want to take any risks of anything happening to any of you because of me."

"We'll be fine," Angela said instantly. "This psycho is after you. And I'm scared, alright, Brennan? I'm really scared."

She looked away, at a loss for things that she could say in the situation.

"Brennan." She turned at last to look her friend in the eyes. "You're scared, too. I know you are, even if you won't admit it."

She sighed. "The idea... that he thinks I got what I... what I deserved..."

"Hey, no. Alright? No. He's crazy; we already established that. We both know that what... what happened was..." a slight sob caught in her voice. "We both know you saved my life. And if this bastard wants to make you feel... feel that you somehow, that you... just no. No."

"I know, Ange, I know. Clearly he is... crazy, as you put it. But I'm just concerned about what he... means by that. Clearly he has intent to harm me, because I have no intent to involve myself with him anywhere in my future." Her thoughts turned down a darker path as she attempted very hard not to think about exactly what form of harm he might have in mind for her.

"Call Booth. He'll have something to say about this, after he freaks out, of course. And Sweets is with him... I know you hate psychology, but he'll probably see something we missed."

With a sigh, she chose to take the advice, and pulled out her cell phone, hitting his speed dial.

"Booth."

"It's me... where are you?"

"We're just leaving Sampson's house now... what's wrong?" Trust him to pick up on the fact that something was troubling her just from a few words.

"We... need you here. Something came up."

"I'll be there as fast as I can," he said instantly, "... are you alright?"

"I'm... yeah, I'm fine." She would wait to explain to him how she was feeling when he was here, and they were alone. "Just... be careful, alright?"

The plot thickens...

So... who else died last night? I won't say why, because some of you might not have seen the episode yet... but I can tell you that I personally died at the end there.

And next week looks like a doozy, not to mention the finale... which scares me, to be honest, from some of the spoilers I've heard. And no, I don't want any more spoilers for this season; I want some surprises, so please don't give away anything, or you will feel my wrath. :)