A/N: I want to thank everyone who has been following this story. There have been so many story/favorite alerts and the reviews have been wonderful and inspiring! I really appreciate my readers, especially those of you who have taken the time to give me feedback. Reviews are so important to the writers, guys, really. So thanks!

Alright, so this chapter feels a little like a filler chapter to me, especially with the last section focusing on a discussion of the details of the case. Most of my chapters will not be heavily case focused since I am not a forensic anthropologist and don't actually know what I'm talking about. But I needed that last section to lead up to the first section of the next chapter, which will hopefully be cute and fun and laden with B/B moments. ;-)

Also, in case anyone misinterpreted my "B/B will be together soon" comment, I didn't mean soon as in instantly. Not during their first case at all, but not long after. I know exactly how its going to happen though and I can't wait to write it, so don't give up on me. Just don't expect it in the next few chapters either.

Ok, read and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Booth and Brennan do not belong to me. They belong to each other.

~B/B~

"Let's begin." Brennan said, lab coat donned, gloves firmly in place, her hair tied back. On the table before her, Lena's remains were laid out, ready for her to begin her examination. Next to her, Clark stood awaiting direction. She turned on the recorder.

"The victim, Lena Hernandez, was age 23 and her height was 162 centimeters. Stress on the tibiofemoral and talocrural joints indicate that she was a runner. The break in her left humerus shows extensive remodeling which indicates that it occurred during childhood, likely before her tenth birthday. Extensive trauma is evident on the back of the cranium and appears to be the cause of death."

She hit the stop button on the recorder and looked at Clark. "I'll want a cast of the injury to the cranium so that we can determine the murder weapon." She said, gently handling the skull. "You'll need to be extremely careful, however, as Hodgins will not be able to examine the body for particles and trace evidence until he arrives back tomorrow."

"We could ask the girl who has been filling in for Hodgins to take a look." Clark suggested. "Macie. She is professional, talented."

"No." Brennan said, not glancing up. "I work with Hodgins."

"Uh-huh. Well that seems to be a decision not at all based on personal relationships." Clark said, raising his eyebrows.

Brennan ignored him, continuing with her examination. She was quickly caught up in the dance that she performed with the bones. Touching, lifting, gazing, she was in her own world. The one world she controlled and understood completely.

She didn't notice when Clark walked away just as she didn't notice when Booth walked up. "Earth to Bones." He said, wrapping his knuckles on the table. "Whatcha got for me?"

She looked up at him. He'd dropped her back off at the lab a few hours ago, after they'd talked to the boyfriend, before he followed up on the rest of the witnesses that had already been interviewed. "Did you speak with the victim's roommate and instructors?" She asked, setting down the right ulna and peeling off her gloves, disposing of them and heading down the platform steps, knowing that he would follow.

"Yeah, nothing stood out though. They just repeated the same old story. Good student, great friend, you get the picture. Dead end leads." He sighed and dragged his hand through the back of his hair as they entered her office. "What about you? Pick up on anything?"

"I'm in the preliminary stages of my examination." She said, taking a seat on her couch and shuffling through her notes. He sat next to her and leaned back. "Clark did the original inspection of the body." She pointed to the photographs and charts that were spread over the coffee table. "His findings were thorough and so far seem to be accurate."

Shrugging, she looked over her shoulder at him. "I will complete my own investigation, of course, but we shouldn't assume that we're going to find anything of use that is not already noted in the file."

He let out a gush of air and dropped his head back on the couch, closing his eyes. "This hasn't been the best first day back." He said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Booth, you can't expect to walk in and solve a case on the first day." She reminded him gently. "Obviously this case presented difficulty since it wasn't solved by the original investigator. It's not a sign of ineptitude that you're struggling with it as well."

He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Who said anything about ineptitude?" He asked, a wry smile on his face.

"Well, that's what you are worried about, isn't it?" She didn't back down under his gaze.

He closed his eyes again. "I don't know, Bones. Do you worry about that? Not being able to do what you've always done again?"

She shook her head without a moment's hesitation. "No, not at all. I'm confident that my expertise is still fully intact. Whatever is unclear now, will become clear if I continue to search out the truth."

He chuckled. "You know, sometimes I wish I were more like you." He said, rolling his neck and shifting.

She looked at him in surprise. "You do?"

"Sure." He said, meeting her eyes. "Nothing shakes you. Nothing makes you doubt yourself or what you know. What you want." He chuckled again. "Yeah, it's one of the most frustrating things in the world when I'm trying to change your mind about something, but it comes in handy in times like these."

"Times like what?" She asked, watching him closely, wishing that she could read him the way he could read her. Oh, she read him better than she did anyone else, but there were still frequent moments when she was at a loss to decipher his body language.

"I don't know, Bones." He said again. "I'm just tired, I guess."

She frowned. "I've noticed that you frequently complain of fatigue lately." She pointed out. "Much more often than I remember."

"Yeah, I guess I'm still jetlagged or something." He said, sending her a half hearted smile.

Shaking her head, she moved closer to him, analyzing his face, the heaviness of his eyelids, the downturn of his mouth, the crease in his forehead. "We've been back for a week, Booth. The affects of travel should have significantly diminished by now."

"Bones." He protested when she moved closer still and placed a hand on his cheek, tilting his face so that his eyes were level with hers. His only comfort came in the realization that her wide blue eyes were clouded with a squint-like sheen as she allowed them to roam his face. It was a small comfort, though, since he was feeling anything but squinty with her face so close and her small hand on his cheek.

"Bones." He said again, after a moment of humoring her. "What are you doing?"

Her eyes really met his for the first time and she hesitated, neglecting to answer his question and neglecting to move away at the same time. Her hand slowly dropped from his face, but she remained close as she answered his question. "Examining you for symptoms of exhaustion."

"And?" He asked, his gaze trained on hers even though he was ordering himself to look away, move away, stand up, something. Anything.

"Perhaps your chronic exhaustion is a symptom of something other than physical exertion. For instance, emotional trauma. Post traumatic stress disorder, perhaps." She suggested quietly.

That was enough to distract him from her close proximity and he moved away, standing quickly. "Don't be ridiculous." He scoffed. "I do not have PTSD, Bones. Why would you even say that?"

She shrugged, standing up as well. "It's not entirely ridiculous, Booth. Every time I ask you about Afghanistan you attempt to distract me or tell me you don't want to talk about it right then. You're constantly tired, you don't seem yourself." She gave him a searching look. "I think you should at least consider the possibility that the past twelve months have adversely affected you."

"No, they have not… adversely affected me." He said, holding his hand out to ward her off. "I'm fine, Bones, I just want to solve the case, ok? Is that really so hard to believe?"

"Booth…" She began again.

"Let it go, Bones." He said, giving her a look. When he saw the hurt in her eyes, he sighed. "Please." He added more gently.

She nodded, crossing her arms across her chest. "Fine. I'm sorry I brought it up." She said, turning away from him and gathering up the photographs and her notes. "I'll let you know tomorrow if I come up with any new information about the remains. I am going to take these home and work on them so…" She trailed off, not sure why she was still talking.

Behind her she heard his heavy sigh. "Temperance." He said, walking towards her and taking the notes out of her hands. When she didn't look at him, he lifted her chin. "Why is this so hard?" He looked down at her, his dark eyes sad.

She shook her head as his hand dropped from her face. "I don't know." She confessed. "I didn't think it would be."

"It doesn't have to be." He told her. "We're both uncomfortable, defensive."

"I'm not defensive." She said, frowning.

"Fine you're uncomfortable and I'm defensive." He amended. "Whatever. The point is, I'm done with this part, ok? I want my partner back. My friend back. So can we just… stop?" She nodded slowly and he smiled. "Ok. Good. Look, maybe I'll go talk to Sweets. Let him do his analysis thingy." He made the offer with a sidelong glance at her. A peace offering.

"We're supposed to meet with him in the morning." She reminded him. "For partners therapy."

"Right. Well maybe I'll drop in on him early. See what the kid has been up to." He smiled at her and she returned the gesture. "Hey, if you're going to work tonight, I could swing by. Bring you some dinner. Keep you awake. I've always hated this part, you know. The part where you're working and I'm not."

Concern flashed across her features. "Mason is calling back tonight…" She said.

'Oh, right. Sure he is." He said quickly, too quickly to pass it off as casual. He took a step back. "Forgot about Mason. No big deal." He said, shrugging and resting his hand on his hip. "I guess I'll just see you in the morning." He turned and headed for the door, stopping when she called his name.

"The call won't be that long." She said, watching him. "If you don't mind the interruption, I wouldn't mind the company."

He smiled. "Yeah, ok." He said, nodding. "I'll pick something up. Meet you there?"

"I'm leaving now." She said, picking up her notes again.

With one last grin, he left her office and she watched him walk away, taking a deep breath. She was feeling a little exhausted herself after a long day of trying to find the balance in her social interactions with the man who used to be the easiest person for her to be around.

Picking up her purse and tucking her notes safely inside, she turned off the light to her office, giving it one last glance before she closed and locked the door behind her. As she left her second home, she couldn't help but wonder whether or not she would have accepted the offer to participate in the dig if she'd had any idea how hard it would be to come home again.

~B/B~

Sweets was in his office when Booth showed up, half an hour before Brennan was supposed to meet him there. The young doctor had taken up the first fifteen minutes enthusing about seeing Booth again, telling him about his reunion with Daisy, and filling him in on what felt like every event that Booth had missed during the year he'd been gone.

It wasn't until Booth sat down on the couch, his face serious, that Sweets settled down and sat as well.

"I guess you didn't just come early to say hello." He said, eyeing the agent.

"Not exactly." Booth muttered. "I told Bones I'd come. She thinks I have… unresolved issues or something."

"And do you?" Sweets prompted.

"Nothing I can't handle." Booth said automatically. "There's a period of adjustment time when you come back from a war zone, you know. You'd think a week would still qualify." He sank down into the couch, his left leg bouncing anxiously.

"Ok." Sweets said. "So why do you think Dr. Brennan is concerned?"

"I don't know. Because she's Bones." Booth sat up, leaning forward. "I've come back from the army before, ok? I know how this goes. I'm dealing."

"Fine." Sweet said, nodding.

"Fine?" Booth challenged him. "That's all?"

"How is your relationship with Dr. Brennan?" Sweets said by way of an answer.

Booth eyed him. "Everything takes time." He told the therapist.

"So its strained, then?" Sweets asked, his expression neutral.

"Maybe a little." Booth admitted grudgingly. "Yesterday was our first day working together again. It didn't go that well, at least not while we were working. We did ok at her apartment for dinner."

"Uh-huh." Sweets said, nodding and making a notation.

"Hold on a second, none of that." Booth said, craning his neck to see what the younger man had written. "You can't just go writing stuff down."

Sweets looked up. "Actually, I can." He said, covering his notes with his hand. "Agent Booth, your relationship with Dr. Brennan has always been very strong, but its also always been very weak as well. You both care about each other so much that you have a great ability to hurt each other."

Booth frowned. "We're not hurting each other. We had a few misunderstandings. That's all." He leaned back and ran his hand over his tie. "We're fine."

"You're fine. She's fine. Your relationship is fine." Sweets raised his eyebrows. "If everything is so fine, then why are you here?"

Booth glared at the therapist. "You know, you're every bit as irritating as I remember."

"Thank you, Agent Booth." Sweets said. "If you want my opinion…"

"I don't." Booth interjected.

"Which you must, since you're here…" Sweets continued, un-phased. "You and Dr. Brennan need to be very careful in how you proceed during this readjustment phase. You both care about each other very much, but right now that relationship is based more on a memory than a reality. You've both had rough years. You've lost touch. Like it or not, you've grown apart."

"Bones and I have not…" Booth tried to interrupt again.

"You're unsure of what to say to each other. Unsure of how to behave. Wondering if you should just fall back into your old ways of interacting or if you want things to change. That leads to misunderstandings, hurt feelings, the inability to effectively communicate…" Sweets looked at Booth. "Is this sounding familiar?"

"Maybe." Booth acknowledged resentfully.

Sweets nodded. "So maybe you should consider killing two birds with one stone." He suggested. "Maybe if you open up to Dr. Brennan about whatever it is that is bothering you from your time in Afghanistan, not only will you feel better about those events, but you'll be able to stabilize your future relationship with her." He grinned, pleased with his conclusion.

Booth sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, I don't know about that."

Sweets' grin faltered at his patient's unenthusiastic response. "Are you still in love with Dr. Brennan?" He asked bluntly, taking a different approach.

"Sweets! What the… you can't just ask me that." Booth spluttered, his leg bouncing harder than ever.

"So, yes, you are then." Sweets concluded. "And you still want her in your life?"

"Of course I do. She's my partner." Booth muttered, wishing with all of his heart that he hadn't agreed to this little talk.

"Then I guess you'd probably be willing to do anything to heal your relationship. Considering how important she is to you." Sweets said, not faltering in his gaze even when Booth glared at him.

The door opened and Brennan walked in. Her hair was pulled back tightly from her nude face and her clothes were surprisingly casual compared to her usual work attire. "Booth." She walked around the couch to face him. "I found it." She said, her tired eyes shining with success. "Clark missed it, but I found it."

He stood, grabbing his abandoned suit coat and throwing it on, unbelievably grateful for the excuse to escape. "Found what, Bones?" He asked.

"I'll tell you on the way to the lab." She said, still ignoring Sweets. "I went to your office, but you weren't there and then I remembered…" She gestured to the office. "We had an appointment."

"Which you'll be keeping… right?" Sweets asked.

"No." Brennan shook her head. "We don't have time for psychological guess work right now. We have hard evidence that will point us to the murderer. That is much more important."

"Thank you for that." Sweets said, nodding perfunctorily.

"Let's go." Booth said, his hand on her arm as he started to guide her towards the door. Sweets didn't miss the nervous glance he gave her when he realized they were touching, or the way he dropped his hand much more quickly than usual.

"We'll reschedule." Booth called over his shoulder as they both left the office.

"Sure, I'll just sit right here anxiously waiting." Sweets said sarcastically to the closed door. "Guess some things never change. Everybody still walks out on the soft science guy."

~B/B~

"Did you come back to work last night?" Booth asked, looking over her appearance as she swiped her card, allowing them access to the forensic platform.

"After you left I tried to sleep, but I couldn't." She said. "I thought that I should at least be productive if I was going to be awake."

"Bones…" He began to protest.

"Booth, I made an excellent discovery." She said, gesturing towards the bones. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Not at the expense of you sleeping." He said, frustrated with her. "Did you even sleep at all?"

"Briefly." She said, dismissing the subject. "See these small fractures here?" She pointed at the phalanges.

"You know I don't, Bones." He said, peering closely at it anyway.

"I didn't either. Not at first. They're miniscule and could be indicative of nothing at all. Perhaps a mild hand injury of some sort that she did not think anything about at the time." She looked up at him, ensuring that he was still following her.

"Ok." He said, not seeing the significance at all.

"It is the shape of the fractures that is significant." She went on. "It is an unusual pattern that cannot be explained by any of the most typical causes of such an injury. For instance getting her hand caught in a car door or dropping something on her fingers or…"

"Bones, cut to the chase." He said, not understanding why these small fractures were going to help him solve his case.

"The fractures brought up questions that I could not answer. Not by just looking at the bones. So I called Hodgins and he agreed to come in and begin his examination of the particulates early." She smiled, obviously excited about her find.

"Bones, you called the man away from his pregnant wife in the middle of the night?" Booth asked, surprised over both the fact that she'd asked and that the man had accepted.

"Angela was asleep." Brennan said as though that made everything fine. "She didn't need his help with anything while she was sleeping, and besides, Booth, she is four months pregnant, not an invalid."

"Hey, she's your friend." He said, knowing it was better not to argue with her. "So what'd Hodgins come up with?"

"Oh I came up with everything." Hodgins said, suddenly appearing. "And this, my friends, is why I'm the best. Macie, my foot."

"I don't know what that means." Brennan said, looking between the two men.

"It means he's cocky." Booth told her, rolling his eyes.

"Definitely." Hodgins agreed. "So I found traces of…"

"Just the bottom line." Booth said impatiently. "I don't need any more of the squinty details, ok?"

"Someone's crabby." Hodgins said, glancing at Brennan for confirmation but she wasn't looking at him. "Ok, bottom line. Your girl was killed in a wooded area. The particulates found on her body did not all match the area she was found in. I'll need to do a comparison to make sure, but I'm willing to bet that your crime scene is in the Perkins woods about twenty miles west of here."

Booth snapped his fingers. "Ok. I can work with that." He said. "We've got a new crime scene. Lets go check it out Bones. Hodgins, you too. I want that comparison to make sure."

"Awesome." Hodgins said, grinning. "Field work on the first day back."

"Wait, Booth." Brennan stopped him, placing her hand on his arm. "There's more. The Perkins woods are suspected to be the location of a group of that practices Santeria."

"And that is…" He prompted her impatiently. He was tired of standing around talking. He wanted to go find something, do something, solve something.

"Santeria is a religion that originated in Cuba as a blending of West African religions and Spanish Catholicism. Believers worship the Orisha of deities which include numerous gods, each with their own function. Also, the believers practice divination using a variety of items such as bats blood, coconut, shells, graveyard dust." She counted the items off on her fingers.

"Ok. So what?" Booth asked, his hand resting on his hip, the other on the evidence table. She smacked that hand away.

"So they also practice animal sacrifice and are extraordinarily secretive about their practices. They do not communicate with outsiders in any way. Not even to sell products to them." She shrugged, looking at him to see if he was drawing any conclusions.

"So Lena may have been involved in this. She freaks or just doesn't want to be a part of it anymore and they kill her to keep her quiet?" He asked, mulling it over in his head.

"It is possible." Brennan admitted. "Your reasoning is subjective, but there is hard evidence to support it. When I discovered that the woods were a suspected site of Santeria practices, I did some research." She showed him a picture she had printed out. "This is an artifact that is very common in the Santeria religion. It appears to be a match for the unusual pattern of the fractures on her phalanges."

"No kidding." Booth said, studying the picture.

She handed him another one. "And this is a possible match for the murder weapon."

He grinned at her, slinging his arm around her shoulders as casually as he had always done before. "Bones, you're amazing, you know that? You're a genius."

"Yes, I know." She said, smiling back at him.

Impulsively, he pulled her into a full hug, squeezing her tightly. "We are back. We are fixing to solve this case and we are back, Bones."

She smiled, returning his hug. "I'm very glad that you're happy again, Booth."

"Hey, help me nail whoever did this to a wall and I'll be even happier." He released her and stepped back, still grinning. "Come on, move it. We don't have all day."

"Ahem." Hodgins said as the partners started to walk past him. "I'm ok with not getting a hug and all but lets all remember to also congratulate the guy who gave you the crime scene. I mainly accept food, but money is always good too. Porn if you run out of ideas. I'm not picky."

"Good work, Hodgins." Booth said as he walked away.

"Yes, thank you, Dr. Hodgins." Brennan said.

"Hey I live to serve." Hodgins said, following at a distance. With a grin he looked around the lab. "And I live to be King of the Lab. Man I missed saying that."

~B/B~

I'm just going to go ahead and tell you... Booth does not have PTSD. Sure he's struggling, but I would not even attempt to accurately portray a case of PTSD. It's a very serious problem that affects a lot of our soldiers, and if I attempted to do it justice, I would fail. Just wanted to mention that in case anyone was concerned about Brennan's flippant remark about the possibility of him having it. She's kind of out of her realm of expertise there with the psychological disorders...

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm hoping to get another one up tonight or first thing tomorrow, but I might need some motivation. You know, I find lots and lots of reviews particularly motivating. ;-) Hint, hint!