A/N I realized I made a small but significant error on my previous chapter (see what happens when you don't proof properly). I mentioned there were five bodies and in the very next sentence I said there were six. Well there are indeed six bodies and seven graves. I just wanted to be clear on that and sorry for any confusion.

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The woman had been a mistake. The only one he made so far. He was determined not to make another one. But she had looked so much like her. It was his own fault he supposed. He had just been too heady with his recent successes, too arrogant; he didn't stop to think. He should have known she would never be in a bar like that and when he followed her out, the dark night obscured her true features. It was only until after he injected her with the syringe and put her in the back of his van could he tell. Lit by the dim light in his vehicle, he saw her clearly and cursed himself for his utter carelessness. He knew her features so well, studied them, drew them and the woman he had just abducted was nothing but a cheap imitation; a fraud and a liar. And he made her pay for it, brutally, viciously in a death befitting her; the punishment she deserved. She had looked just like her but his practiced eye could see the subtle differences. It didn't matter now, what was done was done.

T he late fall night lent a certain stillness to his thoughts as he drove swiftly down the barren road. That is until he saw it; the swarm of tell-tale blue and red lights circulating in the distance. Damn it. They had found his site. What he thought was the perfect hiding place was now awash with law enforcement digging up his meticulously buried leftovers. He would have to find a new place. But that was okay, he mused. It was only fitting that he have a separate resting place for her. She was to be his masterpiece, his visual magnum opus; his queen. Yes, he would have to find somewhere very special for her eternal rest, he pondered as he turned his vehicle around and drove in the opposite direction. It would have to happen soon. Her and her partner's solve rate was high and he wouldn't disillusion himself believing that they would never find him; not with that scientific "think tank" of hers. If only he could manage to get her away from her damn partner, he could achieve his final goal.

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"Okay Caroline, so what are we talking about here?" Booth asked as he careened through the streets going towards the more rural areas of Virginia. His mouth had been set in a grim line ever since Caroline had said "bodies" with an "S", meaning more than one. This was the cherry on the cake of his day.

Caroline held on to the seats in front of her from her place in the back seat trying not to slide all over the back seat due to Booth's NASCAResque driving. "All I know Cher, is the man that now owns the property was going around the outskirts of his land with a metal detector. Poor soul thought he found buried treasure or something but when he dug it up he sure got an eye full. Turns out when the police showed up, they discovered the other graves." When Booth had rounded the next corner a little too fast for her liking she had to speak up. "Where's the fire, Cherie. Those bodies aren't going anywhere."

Yeah, didn't he know it. "Sorry" he said slowing his pace. "So the guy with the metal detector, was he questioned already?"

"He was but he was told to hang around. The local boys thought you might want a crack at him. They're not too keen on the FBI taking over but they'll cooperate."

"They never are." Booth muttered knowing full well that the local cops hated when the FBI swooped in think they were stealing their glory. Well, he wasn't too happy about taking on this case either, not when the other one was haunting him. He fought the urge to slam the steering wheel with his palm in blatant frustration.

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Local police were everywhere, Brennan noticed as she climbed out of the SUV. She tried to maintain her stoic composure even though she knew her crime scene was being contaminated by so many feet treading around. The smell of death permeated the air all around them. It was an odor she was used to; an odor that, however disturbing, never failed to remind her why exactly she spent her days unflinchingly examining decomposed bodies; to give the dead a voice and the living the answers they needed.

Bright yellow police tape cordoned of the area surrounding the seven holes in the ground; which weren't really holes at all, she noticed as she got closer, but precisely dug rectangular graves in equal measurements.

"I'll question the old man while you take a look at our bodies." Booth told her. She nodded mutely, already planning on doing just that. She ducked under the yellow tape with undefined grace, never noticing how the others watched her with unabashed fascination at her beauty and determined resolve.

"This was the first one we dug up. Judging by the smell, it's also the oldest." One of the officers explained to her pointing towards the top left hand grave, his other hand covering his nose and mouth.

"Here." She said handing him the ointment she always carried with her. "Rub some under your nose. It'll help with the smell."

"What about you?" He asked noticing she didn't have any on.

She shrugged. "I don't need it." Brennan replied and wondered sadly what that said about her.

Kneeling in the dirt besides the hole, she held her flashlight positioning it so she could get a wide view of the body.

"Where's the judge?" She asked him fighting against the upward tilt of her lips when she noticed the officer had slathered on almost the whole tube under his nose. He must be new to this, she thought noticing for the first time how young he looked. Hopefully he would never get used to the smell of death like she had.

"Second one in. His wife is the one next to him." She nodded briefly clearing her head from her morose thoughts instead she focused her attention on the body in the grave.

"Female, mid to late twenties, stage of decomp about 6 months. Will be able to get a more accurate date once Dr. Saroyen, Dr. Hodgins and I examine further."

Wiping away the hair that came loose from her ponytail with the back of her gloved hand, she stood up and moved in between the two rows to get a birds-eye view of the first victim. She was naked, the woman's hands were pressed together between her breasts, her fingertips pointed up towards her chin. It was then that she noticed the metal rods placed underneath her arms. So that was how the metal detector picked it up, Brennan thought to herself. Her flashlight glinted off more metal entwined in between her fingers. The wire was fine, probably made from steel. Swiftly, she turned around with flashlight in hand to view the contents of the grave behind her and sucked in her breath at what she saw.

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Booth wasn't getting much more information from the old guy than the local officers had judging by the notes he read before interviewing Bob Meadows for himself.

"So let me get this straight. You just happened to be out here with a metal detector and came across of graves. Have you ever been back here before?" Booth asked him.

"Look. We just moved here a month ago." Mr. Meadows explained. "My aunt left it to me in her will so my wife and I thought it would be a good idea to retire here, ya know. I never been back this far yet and well, the Mrs. claimed I was getting on her nerves…that happens when you're retired you know."

"What does?" Booth asked with a hint of a smile at the man's cragginess.

"Gettin' on eachother's nerves. Call it a non-occupational hazard when you and the wife are both retired. Anyway I know how she is when she gets like that so I thought I'd do some exploring. I got all the way back here before the damn thing starts going off like crazy so I started to dig. I never expected to find that poor girl." He finished with his voice breaking.

"Mr. Meadows, do you happen to know if your aunt ever came back here?" This part of the property was pretty far back from the house, Booth noted and much of it was obscured by foliage.

"Aunt Clara? No. She was getting on in years, she could barely walk."

Booth believed everything he said. He had no reason to believe this guy was anything more than he claimed to be. He would check it out anyway but this line of inquiry was a dead end.

"Just one more question, Mr. Meadows. Is this area easily accessible other than coming from your house?"

"I believe there is a small dirt road about a mile from here. I'm sure just about anyone with a four wheel drive would be able to do it. I heard it's a pretty popular route with the college kids in the area."

"Booth!" He heard Bones call out to him. "Can you come here please?" There was a certain hitch to her voice that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Excuse me." He said to the still distraught man and walked swiftly to where Brennan stood looking into the grave.

"Whatcha got Bones?" He said placing his hand against the small of her back in an unconscious gesture as he leaned over to look into the hole, trying not to grimace at the foul stench coming at him in waves. He fought the urge to bury his face in the crook of her neck and inhale her erotic scent instead. Down boy, he told himself. There will be time for that later.

"Take a look at that." She pointed at the woman. "Notice the way her hands are positioned. She was permanently posed."

All thoughts of laying naked and sweaty with the woman beside him were violently pulled from his mind as he stared at the decaying corpse of the young woman.

"She looks like she's praying." Booth said shoving his hand through his hair. A pained looked crossed his features as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't tell me we have a religious freak serial killer on our hands." He said angrily. The last thing he needed or wanted was some holier than thou serial killer on the loose. Those guys were the worst; believing that they had some divine right or some Godly mission to murder. Thou shalt not kill, yeah right.

"I don't think so. Look at this one here." She said motioning to the body behind them. "He is posed as well , using the same type of wire but not in prayer. See. His hands are formed into fists, the right above the left, his elbows pointing down. Booth, I know what this is." She said excitedly, the light of discovery shining in her eyes.

"And?" he asked impatiently, his hands moving to his hips. He had turned away from the body. He couldn't look at it anymore and there were still other bodies yet to view. He wondered if they would ever get out of there.

"Part of my graduate study was done in England studying the symbolism of funerary effigies of the Templar Knights. Booth these are effigies. He is posed like he should be clutching a sword, signifying death in battle. Women were usually posed like the first victim. Both are congruent with the medieval period of history."

"Great. More medieval shit. Can you estimate time of death?

"The first victim was murdered approximately 6 months ago. This man here, I would have to say no more than a week. I would have to do a more complete examination to be positive. I think it would be better if we take everything back to the Jeffersonian. It's too dark for me to establish anything with any degree of certainty."

"Are they all posed?" Booth had to ask her.

"I'll check" Brennan walked in between the rows carefully looking at each victim until she stopped at the second to the last grave. She stopped and turned walking back to Booth with a frown of consternation on her face.

"The last body doesn't have a head."

"You mean he or she was decapitated?"

"It was a he and yes. It appears that way. And in answer to your previous question, with the exception of the judge and his wife, they were all posed in effigy fashion." She wondered what the significance was with the difference of the judge and his wife. Why weren't they posed like the rest? All were obviously done by the same killer.

"Do you think this is related to the other case?" He asked her, swallowing hard, his gut clenching with the possibility.

"I won't know for sure until I can do further analysis back at the Jeffersonian. If they are related, it doesn't make sense that Deborah Wallace wasn't buried here as well." She reasoned.

"So two murderers, both with medieval fetishes? I don't buy it. There has to be a connection somehow. We just have to find it."

"That's why we get paid the big bucks." She said giving him a pat on the shoulder before walking towards the other policemen.

"Speak for yourself." He muttered as he caught up to her. "Okay boys" He called out to the agents around the area and clapped his hands. "Get everything packed up and to the Jeffersonian. You, you and you" he pointed to three agents placing evidence markers. "There is a dirt road about a mile south. I need it inspected for tire tracks, discarded beer cans… anything you can identify and even stuff you can't."

Booth received a series of low grumbles and moans in reply. "C'mon, chop, chop. I got a carton of take out Thai with my name on it."

Booth grasped Brennan's elbow and steered her past the yellow tape. "Are we leaving?" she asked him glancing back towards the graves. She stumbled over some earth and Booth held her tighter to keep her from falling. He didn't dare mention that she watch where she was going. He knew she would get all self sufficient on his ass.

"Yup. We're grabbing Caroline and then we're outta here." He said instead.

"But the bodies…I didn't get to view them all." Brennan protested. She wanted more than anything to leave this place and go home with him, no matter whose home it was but another part of her saw six people that needed to be heard, six families that needed resolution and closure and one very sick bastard that needed to be brought to justice.

"It'll take them hours to pack everything up. The bodies will be there in the morning. It's not like they're going to get up and just walk away. We, on the other hand need to eat. Besides I think I want to have my dessert first." Booth couldn't wait to get out of this place of death. He only wanted two things more than anything at that moment; a shower and Temperance naked beneath him. Even better if those wants could be taken care of at the same time.

"You do, do you?" she said suggestively realizing he was perhaps right. She was running on nearly empty. By the time all was said and done, she would be in no shape to examine the victims properly. It would be better if she approached them with a clear mind.

"Yes. I do. And I don't mean pie."

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He was running; searching for her in the forest thick with trees. The swirl of fog wrapped around his limbs like tethers slowing his mad pace. His heart pounded like thunder in his chest as fear threatened to strangle him. He pushed his legs harder, faster, ignoring the burning sensation in his lungs as he fought in a race against time.

"BONES!...TEMPERANCE!" he screams out in between rough pants. He could see nothing past his own cloud of breath.

Suddenly he was in an open field; looming before him a rectangular hole in the ground. His pace sluggish. As if in slow motion, he approached the opening in the ground.

There she lay as if in deep slumber, her hear cascading down her shoulders. Her lips were blue and he couldn't detect any rise and fall in her chest. A ring of bruising marred her throat; the only marking on her otherwise pale flesh. Sinking down to his knees, he sobbed.

"No Temperance, NO." He cried out hollowly.

"Booth…Booth…Seeley. I'm here."

Booth's eyes snapped open, his breathing harsh to his own ears, his heart thumping furiously and a fine sheen of cold sweat covered his bare chest.

"Booth…Seeley" Bones said in a cautious whisper. "I'm right here."He could feel her hand in his shoulder, shaking him lightly. He palmed his eyes trying to wipe away the tears that he felt were starting to leak before he turned to her. Her vivid blue eyes stared back at him on concern. He could drown within those depths of blue and never once want to come up for air.

He concentrated on slowing his breathing as her drew her close, enveloping her in his arms so her head rested on his chest. He was sure she could hear the rapid beat of his heart. The vivid images of his nightmare still flashed through his mind. It was only a dream. He had to remind himself. It wasn't real.

"Were you dreaming of Afghanistan?" She asked while her fingertips skated soothingly along his chest. "It would be quite normal. Your brain is probably releasing the stress you endured through that time in the form of unsettling nightmares."

He wiped his palms across the lid of his eyes again and almost let out an amused sob. "Yeah, Bones. I was dreaming of Afghanistan." Booth lied. He hated doing it but he couldn't tell her the dream was about her. She would scoff and counter that his fears were not based on any scientific fact and were completely illogical. But were they…were they really?

"Do you want to talk about it?' She asked lifting her head to look at him.

He shook his head. "No. I don't want to talk." He said huskily before he covered her mouth with his own. He didn't want to talk…he wanted to feel. Feel her, specifically. Know that she was alive and safe in his arms.

Booth rolled over her, kissing her hungrily, his hands clutching the sides of her head to keep her in place as he plundered. There was nothing leisurely about this joining. It was desperate and hungry and spoke in volume what words never could. She was already wet for him as he slid into her, pounding furiously; needing the release that only she could give him. He let out an anguished cry as he came and buried his face in her shoulder as she brought her hands up to cradle him to her.

Brennan sensed he needed the comfort. He hadn't spoke much about his time in Afghanistan and she knew what he didn't say told more than what he did. It was when he was vulnerable like this that she loved him all the more. Booth always appeared to be the strong albeit cocky type, using his humor as a shield to cover the sensitive man she knew hid underneath.

"Are you sure you're alright?" She asked him, smoothing her hand through his sweat dampened hair.

"Yeah, Baby. As long as you're with me I'll be okay." That was true at least, Booth thought to himself.

Brennan held him tighter and the last thoughts he had before he drifted off to sleep was she didn't correct him when he called her "baby".