Ignorant of the new case handed to the team, Dr. Lance Sweets was resigned to offer whatever information he could get on the Deborah Wallace murder. The case file sat open on his desk, the notes from the file scattered haphazardly on his desk. The crime photos and the mock-ups that Angela created, however, lay face down; the images too closely resembling Dr. Brennan for him to be comfortable with them staring back at him.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, reaching for his decaf tea while simultaneously his eyes scanned the documents before him. He didn't know what was more disconcerting; the murder itself or the obvious mental instability of the victim. Here was a woman who for all intents and purposes deliberately tried to mirror Dr. Brennan's life to the point where it manifested itself as the most extreme case of obsession Lance had ever seen. And after he began working with Booth and Brennan, he had seen quite a lot.

Originally assigned to Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan as their therapist after Agent Booth had arrested Max Keenan, Dr. Brennan's very charming albeit very criminal father, Dr Lance Sweets had become an integral part of their crime solving team. In fact, if an outsider had a chance to witness the interpersonal communication between all of them, one could even say they formed a family dynamic.

Somewhere in the few years, Dr. Sweets had been seeing Booth and Brennan on a regular basis the line between therapist and friend became very blurred and they now existed within a gray area of the two. He had gained their trust and in turn they accepted him as part of their group. There was no way he could let them down now.

It was extremely difficult for him to come up with a profile of a murderer based on one murder and the victim he chose, but Lance was going to try. Instead of lamenting over the information he did not have, he chose to think like a squint and focus on the facts he did have. They weren't much.

Fact: The victim looked exactly like Dr. Temperance Brennan which could signify greatly in the choosing of the victim; something Lance did not want to think about quite yet.

Fact: The victim was incapacitated with a paralytic drug prior or during her capture.

Fact: She was brutally attacked, slashed, tortured and slashed again prior to being dumped into a dumpster like garbage.

All of these facts were starting to paint a picture and not unlike a jigsaw puzzle, there were many pieces missing. Lance was sure something significant was escaping him. Turning on his laptop, he looked up information on the pear of anguish device. He knew somehow that this method of torture was not random but specifically chosen..but why.

After reading the information on-line, Lance visibly paled, his mouth gaped open in shock as those jigsaw puzzle pieces clicked into place. Not bothering to turn off his computer, he quickly got up sending his chair flying backwards and scooped up the pages on his desk, shoving them into the beige file folder before running out the door with it tucked under his arm.

He came to a quick halt in front of Booth's empty office.

"Where's agent Booth?" Lance asked the secretary that sat outside of Booths' office while leaning over, his hands resting on his knees to catch his breath.

"I think he went to the diner." She answered somewhat amused at seeing the usually collected psychologist so …well un-collected.

"How long ago?"

She shrugged. "10 minutes at the most."

Without bothering with his usual manners and saying "thank you", Lance ran for the elevators to take him outside.

Booth sat at the counter of the diner, drinking his coffee and scanning the newspaper while he waited for his and Bones' order to be prepared for take-out. Considering the current case, he knew she wouldn't be leaving the lab anytime soon and she had the tendency to forget little things like eating while she was working.

He heard a "thunk" on the space of the counter next to him as a few paper slid out of the folder that was dropped there, skidded his way. He recognized his own catholic school penmanship and turned to the wheezing figure of Sweets beside him.

"Hey kid, you forget your inhaler?" Booth smirked and watched as Sweets grabbed a half empty glass of water from the counter and brought it to him mouth. "Hey, hey." Booth grabbed the glass from him. "Don't drink that! You don't know what cooties could be all over it."

Sweets mutely nodded his head. "Yeah" he panted. "Right." –when Sweets felt sure he got his breath back he gave Booth an odd look. "Cooties, Agent Booth?"

Booth grinned as his face heated a bit. "Hey, I have a nine year old son…so what has your diapers all in a twist this afternoon?"

"I believe the proper term is…" Sweets noticed Booth's roguish smirk." Oh. Ha ha Agent Booth …very funny." Sweets expression sobered quickly when he looked at the file that lay between them. "But seriously, Booth. I've been doing some work on the Deborah Wallace case and…"

Booth waved him off. "It's going to have to wait Sweets. We got a new high profile case tossed in our lap just last night."

Sweets forged ahead anyway. "Okay and that's fine but I think you would want to know considering your relationship with Dr Brennan…"

Booth nearly fell off the stool. He thought they had been so good at keeping their relationship a secret. "Okay, Sweets, who told you? Who outed us? Was it Bones because I just can't believe…"

"I just meant because of your partner…" Sweet eyes widened in realization of what exactly Booth had just inadvertently revealed to him. "Oh, wow! I mean this is just so….I knew it!" He hit the palm of his hand on the counter and winced on the impact. "You and Dr. Brennan…I have so many questions"

Booth immediately realized his mistake and backtracked. "Not a word…you got that Sweets. No one can know."

"But…" At Booth's forceful glare he gave up. "Fine. No one will hear about it from me."

"No one will hear what from you?" Hodgins asked inquisitively as he sat down next to Sweets. He had just come in to pick up Angela's lunch when he spotted the two conversing secretively. Always one to feel out any possible conspiracy or hidden secret agenda, he jumped right in.

"Booth and Dr Brennan are sleeping together." Sweets blurted out.

"God Damnit Sweets! I said not one word." Booth exploded.

"Dude! You and Dr. B? Seriously? Way to go man. About freakin' time." Hodgins was thoroughly elated. "Wait a minute? Sweets knows before Angela? This is so not good."

Booth just buried his head in his arms wanting to hit the rewind button. All he wanted to do was pick up lunch. What the hell happened?

XXXXX

Brennan straightened herself up from her bent position over the dead body before her. Holding her hands to her hips, she stretched backwards only to feel several joints crack in her lower lumbar area. She heard Booth's mildly scolding voice in her head telling her it was time to take a well deserved break; that the bones weren't going anywhere.

Deciding to listen to that voice; after all she had been at it since getting back from the Simpson mansion with only a cup of coffee and a protein bar early in the morning for fuel, she found herself outside Angela's office watching her best friend work meticulously at her computer.

Angela felt eyes on her and looked up. She smiled and waved Brennan in.

"Hey Bren. What are you doing over in this neck of the woods?"

"Ange, this is very clearly an…oh…that's a colloquialism. You are asking me why I have come to visit you."

"Wow, Bren. You're improving. I didn't even have to explain that to you…So…what does bring you over here?"

"I found myself in need of a stretch break. I was experiencing some rather painful stiffness in my lower lumbar region." Brennan wandered over to Angela's computer where there was an image displayed of one of the murder victims. "Is this one of the victims from the grave site?"

"Yes. I am trying to figure out what caused these puncture marks on the back of his body…yuck." Angela started tapping furiously on the keyboard. "I just inputting the diameter of the marks and the length and width in between each wound and the computer will sort out the variables and come up with a possible weapon."

"How many puncture wounds were there that you had to coordinate?" Brennan was curious how long her pregnant friend had been at this. From what she saw on the computer monitor, there were quite a lot of holes in the victim.

"Don't ask…but the odd thing is all the punctures were evenly spaced." She hit the enter button. "Walla! Now we wait."

"What are all these?" Brennan asked pointing at the multitude of catalogues that seemed to cover every inch of Angela's office couch.

Angela flushed guiltily, moving swiftly to clear up the mess. "Oh those. I was just trying to get ideas for the nursery."

Brennan picked up one of the catalogues and began to thumb through it as she sat down. "Have you found anything?"

Angela sat down next to her friend in a huff, disappointment all over her face. "No. Everything is just so generic, you know. If I see another Winnie the Pooh or Noah's Ark theme, I just may explode."

"I see what you mean." She said handed over the catalogue to Angela. "The color schemes are all wrong as well. Do you know infants can't even see pastels? Their eyes can only register black, white and red."

"Yeah well I am not designing my baby's room like some 80's bachelor pad." She went back to gathering the booklets. "How do you know about this stuff anyway?"

"When I was thinking about being artificially inseminated, I did some research."

Angela gave her closest friend a look the mixed sympathy and dismay. "Oh, Bren. I am so sorry."

Brennan look at Angela, thoroughly confused. "Whatever for?"

"It wasn't so long ago that you wanted to be a mom and here I go shoving my pregnancy in your face."

"Ange, you are not 'shoving' anything although I am unclear what you mean by that. I am truly happy for you."

"But still…"

Angela was very clearly upset, near tears judging by her stilted pacing and Bren knew a lot of it had to do with the additional hormones coursing through her body. Still, she knew of one thing that would brighten her friend's mood. Booth was going to be so mad at her.

"Booth and I are involved in a sexual relationship." Brennan blurted out.

Angela stopped mid stride. "C'mon Bren. Don't tease me like that." Her smile was unsure, not able to decide whether Brennan was telling the truth or if she was kidding. Brennan never kidded, not really.

"I'm not joking Angela."

And just like that, the catalogues that Angela had been clutching a moment ago dropped unceremoniously to the floor.

"Oh my God, sweetie! You're telling the truth aren't you?" Angela covered her mouth with her hands to keep herself from letting out a shriek of joy.

"I just told you I was." Brennan wrinkled her brows in confusion. "Well, maybe I didn't phrase it in that precise way but…"

"No I get it…I totally get it." She rolled her eyes but couldn't wipe the silly grin off her face "And apparently you get it too." She winked. "I want to know everything…and don't skip the good parts."

XXXXX

"One Cobb salad and one cheeseburger with double fries." The waitress said as put a plain paper bag on the counter in front of Booth. The grease from the burger and fries were already starting to seep through the bag.

"And that's my cue to go, guys." Booth told his friends, wanting desperately to leave before he was tricked into telling them anything else. He gave them a mock salute before he went out the door.

Sweets blinked…twice. What the hell happened? He got so sidetracked with Booth's unwitting confession, he had completely blanked on the real reason he tracked Booth down in the first place. Without giving any explanation to Hodgins, he gathered up the file once again and chased after Booth.

"Booth! Wait up."

Booth saw Sweets running over to him just has he had unlocked the door to his SUV. He gave an eye roll to the heavens and turned to the psychologist.

"What is it Sweets? And hurry it up or my bun is going to get soggy and that will make me very cranky."

"About the Deborah Wallace case…"

"I thought I told you to put that on the back burner." Booth opened his door and tossed the bag of food in the back.

"I can't in good conscience do that, Booth." Sweets looked at his friend nervously. In light of what he just found out, Booth would not take this well at all…not that he would take any threat against any one of them well…but now it was personal…very personal.

"And why the hell not?"

"Because Dr. Brennan is in danger." Sweets blurted out bracing for Booth's reaction. He didn't mean to say it like that. He meant to do it with more finesse or more explanation of how he came to that conclusion but Booth was rushing him because of his stupid cheeseburger.

Booth simultaneously clenched his jaw and flexed his fist. There was no humor in him now. Those six words sucked it right out of him. "Get in." He said, for truthfully he didn't know if he could get his mind to function enough to say anything more.

"But my car…" Sweets motioned down the block to where his car was parked.

"Just get in the damn car!"

He tried to calm his tense breathing as he waiting for Sweets to get in the vehicle. Once he hopped in, Booth took off without waiting for Sweets to buckle himself in.

"Now. I want you to tell me exactly how you came to this conclusion." Booth spoke as calmly as he could, through gritted to keep from shouting.