This was Temperance Brennan's favorite time of the day. While she was excellent at focusing her attentions despite the hustle and bustle of the lab environment around her, she was truly in her element as the day died down and quiet descended for the evening. Hodgins was already heading out, his grey messenger bag slung over his right shoulder. She could hear him calling out a couple goodnights as he walked towards the sliding glass doors that served as the main entrance for the Jeffersonian's Medico-Legal Lab. Cam was, assumedly, in her office. The other woman also seemed to enjoy the quiet in the early evening, perhaps taking advantage of the lull in steady interruptions she dealt with throughout the day. The interns were gone already, and Angela was headed toward the platform, her notebook in hand.

"Hey Bren," the artist greeted as she mounted the steps and swiped her security card. "I'm heading out, but I wanted to stop by and bring you a face."

Brennan turned around and took the proffered sketch. "Wow Angela, that was very expeditious of you. I didn't think you'd have it until tomorrow afternoon sometime." She studied the image rendered by her friend's skilled hand. She never failed to be affected by seeing the face of the dead. And although this man lived a very, very long time ago, she connected with the image nonetheless. "This is perfect. It's going to be an excellent addition to the museum piece."

Angela smiled at her friend and then nodded towards the bones arranged behind Brennan. "You leaving soon, or do you have a date with Tribal Man back there?"

The scientist had already resumed her position by the table and was hunched over the skeleton, taking what were assuredly immaculate notes with clipboard in hand and eyes roaming the form from top to bottom. "I shouldn't be here much longer, but I'm going to finish this up so that it's ready to go to the archival team tomorrow."

Angela turned and headed back down the steps. "Ok then, I'll see you tomorrow. Later!"

Brennan looked up quickly. "Later? Are you not coming in at your usual time?"

Her friend rolled her eyes and tried to hide her smile as she explained that "later" was simply a shortened form of "see you later."

"I know that," Brennan replied awkwardly. "I just…forgot." Satisfied with her own explanation, she turned back to the task at hand. She heard her friend call out a final goodbye and replied "Later!" just to assure herself that her casual conversation abilities had indeed matured over the last few years.

She continued her examination of the skeleton, but that last thought was bouncing around in her mind and she was having a difficult time banishing it. In fact, for the past four days she had found herself thinking about the many changes that had taken place in her over the last few years. Focusing was becoming a problem because her mind wandered back to the topic of change every chance that it got. It was as if she needed some time to simply understand herself, and that time wasn't forthcoming anytime soon.

One thing she did know, and that was that whatever was happening to her had been happening for a while now. But far more troubling to her was the fact that she wasn't perturbed by the subtle shifts that were so prevalent within her these days. That fact alone was the most conclusive evidence at her disposal that things were somehow different. Temperance Brennan was a woman who prided herself on her ability to be unfailingly logical, scientific, and rational. Or, she at least used to be.

Several years ago, she had slowly become a woman at war with herself. Her desire for stability had given way to a desire for adventure. Her logical brain often succumbed to her illogical emotions. Her scientific methods started being questioned by unsubstantiated "gut" instincts.

A few years ago she had met Seeley Booth.

The old Brennan would have immediately shifted her mind onto another topic, glossing over the revelation that the beginning of her metamorphosis had coincided with his entrance into her life. But just as animals in nature responded to a new threat or aspect of their natural existence, she too had adapted.

Brennan's hands stilled over the ribcage of the skeleton on the table, her fingertips gently resting on the manubrium. One thing was suddenly and certainly quite clear. She was no longer at war. The changes in her life had been steadily marching her toward a place where what she has always believed meets what might be. Time was needed for her to truly understand what this meant for her, but the simple acknowledgment of change brought a calming to her mind, and she renewed her work with a focused sense of purpose.

Maybe she could get this wrapped up tonight. She wasn't working on a case right now, so perhaps tomorrow would afford her the opportunity to mull things over a bit more. She may be changing, but not so much that she was unrecognizable to herself. And one thing that Temperance Brennan certainly needed was a clear picture of things.

The next hour was spent quickly, and Brennan had just drawn the sheet up over the bones so the team could come and retrieve them in their assembled form when her phone began vibrating in her pocket. She retrieved the device and turned it around to view the text message received.

Got bones at Rock Creek

Meet you at the visiting center

She slipped the phone into her pocket and headed for her office. So much for a quiet day tomorrow. But if she was lamenting her chance to think things out, then why was she feeling so excited to have a case?

She refused to believe it had anything to do with not seeing her partner in four days.