Ah! This is still a thing apparently! Sorry for the massive delay, but life has been crazy and then I just plain got stuck. Anyway, enough excuses. On we go!

Brennan walked into Angela's office the next morning to tell her that they were able to identify the latest victim from dental records and her facial reconstruction wouldn't be necessary. To say Brennan was happy Angela was back from her maternity leave was an understatement. Her replacement's work was sub-par and he and Brennan didn't get along personally. She and Hodgins had bonded over the fact that they both couldn't stand him and were counting down the days until Angela returned.

Angela had been back for three weeks now and things were finally returning to normal. She still called the babysitter at least six times a day to check on Michael, but that was unlikely to change anytime soon. Hodgins always gave her a hard time about calling every hour on the hour, until she discovered that he was calling ever hour on the half hour.

Brennan finished explaining the situation with the victim to Angela and turned to leave before stopping herself and turning back. "Angela?" she called to her friend cautiously.

"Yeah?" Angela replied, looking up from her work. She noted the look on Brennan's face and rounded her desk. "What's wrong?" Brennan hesitated a moment.

"Your mother isn't a part of your life, correct?" she finally said. Angela tried to ignore the familiar punched-in-the-gut feeling she got whenever someone mentioned her mother. She'd never told anyone any details of what had happened, except for Hodgins. She never really thought about how easily anyone could see that she never spoke about her mom.

"Right," she replied, swallowing the lump in her throat. Brennan nodded and bit her lip nervously. "What's going on, Sweetie?"

"My mother is dead." Angela thought back to the day over five years before when her best friend's mother was found in bone storage and almost chuckled despite herself.

"I know," she said, not entirely sure where this was going.

"You have a ten week old infant. How do you know what to do?" And just like that, it clicked in Angela's head.

"Oh Sweetie, I know it's not what you want to hear but honestly you just kind of… know."

"You sound like Booth," Brennan observed. "He's always telling me about maternal instincts and how I'll know exactly what to do after the baby's born. I know that there is an evolutionary predisposition for women to be fiercely protective of their offspring and I know that I love this baby, but it's also a tradition in our culture for a pregnant woman to bond with her mother and discuss child rearing and…"

"You want your mom," Angela concluded. Brennan nodded and wiped away a tear. She sniffled and looked at the ground. "There's no shame in that. I felt the same way when I was pregnant with Michael. But I found ways to deal. You can always come talk to me when you feel like you don't know what you're doing, okay?" she offered. Brennan smiled and met Angela's gaze.

"Michael will only be eight months older than my child. I don't think that is a sufficient age difference for me to consider you an expert on the subject." Angela laughed lightly.

"Fair enough. But I'll still have had a baby eight months longer than you." The friends shared another grin. "Have you talked to Booth about it?"

"Not about missing my mother."

"Why not?" Brennan shrugged and sat on Angela's couch.

"Because it's childish and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. He has enough on his mind now without worrying about something he can't change."

"Brennan, he's going to know something's wrong whether you tell him or not. You might as well just say what it is so he doesn't assume it's something worse." Brennan shook her head and stood.

"He won't notice," she said almost too quietly to be heard.

"What do you mean he won't notice?" Angela repeated incredulously. Brennan saw Booth's pain filled eyes two nights ago and heard his almost tortured sobs as she held him until they both gave into exhaustion and fell asleep. No, Booth was too consumed with his own problems right now to be concerned with her trivialities.

"He… he just won't notice."

"What brought this on in the first place?"

"Nothing," Brennan insisted. "It's… It's nothing. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up. It's just hormones. I'll be fine. I… I have to go." She turned on her heel and hurried out of the office. Angela followed her to the door and watched as she speed walked across the lab.

"Wait! Bren, wait!" she hollered after her to no avail.

Brennan reached her office in record time and closed the door behind her. She searched around frantically for something, anything to do to clear her head but came up empty. Cam had the remains until the flesh could be removed. She was completely caught up on her paperwork. She would have to walk past Angela's office to get to Limbo and she certainly didn't want to be asked a thousand questions about her odd behavior. So she just sat at her desk and fought the memories that threatened to drown her.

At twelve Temperance Brennan had helped her mother clean out the attic. She came across a box filled with toys and clothes from her early childhood. "Why do you still have all this stuff, Mom?" she asked, holding the very rattle her father had given her and Booth the day before. Christine shrugged and took the rattle from her daughter.

"This was your favorite when you were a baby." She looked through the rest of the contents of the box and smiled. "It's nice to remember when you were that small. It all goes by so fast and I don't want to forget."

"But everything is in the attic and you only ever go to the attic to clean it or move more things up here. If you really wanted a sentimental reminder then logically you should have these things downstairs, where you're more likely to see them." Christine smiled and put the rattle back then closed the box.

"Okay, smartypants." It was the only nickname she would be okay with until well into her adulthood, and the only person allowed to call her it was her mom. She was so used to nicknames being cruel and although the name was meant to tease her, it was nice to know that such things could also come from a place of love and affection. "Believe me, you'll thank me one day for keeping all this stuff when you have babies of your own." Christine chuckled at the look of distaste on her daughter's face, who was not yet interested in boys.

"Hey Bones," Brennan was snapped back to the present by the other nickname she had come to adore over the years.

"Hi," she greeted Booth with a forced smile. He walked to her desk and gave her a lingering kiss.

"Listen, I called my dad and invited him to dinner tonight. I want you to come with me." Brennan nodded.

"Of course I'll go with you," she told him sincerely. Booth smiled in thanks and gave her another kiss. "Booth, are you certain this is what you want?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. The least I can do is give the guy a chance, right? We're never gonna be buddies or anything like that but I figure we can be civil and put a lot of this crap behind us once and for all."

"That's… a very mature attitude," Brennan commented. Booth pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"You sound surprised about that," he teased. She smiled weakly. Booth's expression became concerned and he tightened his hold on her. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she lied. She knew Booth didn't buy it, but she was glad to see that he seemed to know that she wanted the subject dropped.

"Okay. Well come on, lunch awaits!" He slung his arm around Brennan's shoulders and led her out of the office. Brennan smiled and this time it was genuine because, despite everything he was going through at the moment, he had noticed.

So there ya go! As always, tell me what you thought!