A/N: I told you we would make it back around to what happened that night in her apartment. We are closing in on the final act p just a few more chapters to go. Thank you so much for reading. Let me know what you are thinking! - Kalli

Thursday night came around and Booth and Brennan finished up a late dinner. While there was residual stiffness and some pain that lingered, Brennen was improving by the day. And she seemed more ... herself. She felt strong enough to face her apartment over the coming weekend, and although she was dreading it, she was ready for the interview with the FBI investigators coming in the morning. She was actually just about to talk to Booth about some of the questions she'd gotten from Barnes during the week. Right when she thought she had a window, they heard the knock on Booth's door.

It was Booth who opened the door with a dishrag casually hanging over his shoulder.

"Vanik," Booth greeted with some surprise in his voice.

"Booth," was all the younger man said, with a solemn expression that immediately made Booth worry.

"I get the impression this isn't a social call."

"I'm afraid it isn't."

Brennan was already near the entry hall as Booth invited Vanik in, and she could tell something was wrong. He didn't make her wait.

"Sorry to disturb you, Dr. Brennan. I'm sort of here on official business."

"Isn't that his line," Brennan said, pointing to Booth, but Vanik didn't register the comment.

"Do you have a moment, and maybe a place we could speak privately?" Vanik asked her.

"Now is acceptable, and I'd like Booth to stay." She no sooner said Booth's name than he was right next to her.

"Of course," Vanik said, and walked to the dining table. He should have expected that, but he worried it would be harder to get the answer he needed. He pulled out a chair for her and waited patiently while she took it, the two men taking seats on either side.

"What is this about, Mr. Vanik?" she asked.

He explained that he was there on behalf of her publisher, working as their security expert investigating a developing issue. A call had been made to CastleView Publications, her publishing company, by a man claiming to have a compromising photo of Brennan. He didn't elaborate on the content of the photo, just that it was recent, and that it would cost them 100K to keep it out of the press. With the release coming up so quickly, her publisher was looking to understand the nature of the photo and assess the damage to sales, reputation, etc.

"I know this question is going to seem unforgivably personal, but CastleView is looking to understand what you might know about the photo."

Brennan was confused. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Can you think of anything? Got a little creative with a boyfriend, a little blow one night? Anything that might have gotten hacked from someone's cloud backup? No judgment here, Dr. Brennan, just trying to see what we're up against."

"Vanik," Booth said, the anger evident in his voice, but then it clicked in Brennan's mind and she put the pieces together. She let her fingers rest gently on Booth's forearm, bringing his protest to a halt. When he looked at her his eyes were full of concern and questions.

"I know what photo it is."

She pushed her chair away from the table and walked over to the bar. Grabbing two glasses and a bottle of scotch, she returned to the table and poured each man a drink. She never sat back down.

"McGowan?" Vanik asked.

She pursed her lips tightly together and nodded.

"When?" Vanik prodded.

"Last Tuesday," she told them.

"There wasn't anything in your statement from last Tuesday," Vanik remembered.

"No," she admitted. "I didn't include it."

Booth had read the statement. It almost destroyed him. With everything that made it in, he couldn't imagine what she felt like she couldn't include.

"I'd forgotten about the People Magazine article." She looked up and the two men got very quiet, their furrowed brows telling her they didn't understand the connection but wanted to.

"But you brought a copy over and left it on my desk," Booth reminded her.

"No, I didn't."

Booth didn't understand, but he'd already interrupted her and now needed to hear the story of the picture, so he just listened and tried to keep his mind from swirling.

Brennan started again. "Last Tuesday. I'd forgotten the People article was coming out." She went to her messenger bag and pulled it out, dropping it already opened onto the table with an ironic laugh. "The plan was working. I kept my distance from you," she said, daring a peek at Booth. "McGowan was mostly busy with a case and I worked on the paper I'm writing. It was almost over. I called you," she said to Vanik "that morning and you said the forensics report on my phone would be done Wednesday sometime, and we agreed to meet Thursday morning and we would be ready to turn McGowan in. Forty-eight hours. It just had to hold together for forty-eight hours."

The men were silent and still, and she continued.

"I got home late from the lab - after eleven, maybe midnight. Tired. I was in the apartment with the door chained before I ever realized he was there. There was a copy of the article on the table, and a glass of scotch, and when I went over to see what it was, he let me know he was behind me. He appeared angry and was displaying signs of intoxication. He started yelling at me to read the article out loud."

"The more I read more agitated he became. He told me take a sip of the drink. I hadn't eaten all day, and I took a big sip, but I realized as I swallowed it that it was dosed with something. When he turned to pour himself another, I dumped it into that blue vase on my table. He thought I finished it."

"I felt the drugs almost immediately. My arms got heavy, I struggled with equilibrium. He said we were going to have some fun, and he tried to walk me back towards the bedroom. I pulled away and put myself up against the brick part of the wall near the fireplace. I could barely stand."

She did her best to ignore the panic and anger radiating off Booth and continued.

"He unbuttoned my shirt. He was laughing when I couldn't push him away. I said something that made him angry and he smashed the crystal glass he was holding against the brick. Then his phone rang. He ignored it the first time. The second time he answered it. He let go of me, and when I turned for the door, I just fell and landed in the glass."

"He got called in on his case. He pulled me back up and slammed me into the wall. He put his hand around my throat. I couldn't breathe. And then I saw the flash and heard that sound that phone cameras make. He let go and I went down to the floor again. I remember hearing the apartment door close. I tried to give myself a few minutes to regain my bearings, but I passed out. I was out for a few hours. When I woke up he'd texted the picture. He said 'we'll finish this later'. I got cleaned up as much as I could. The only place I could think of to go was your office."

"Why didn't you tell me in the office that morning?"

"How do you not call us to start physical protection?"

The two sentences came at her, simultaneous and overwhelming. Not that she hadn't thought both things to herself - there was plenty of space for second guessing. She grabbed her original cell phone and opened up the text, clicking on the picture and letting it take over the whole screen. Then she put it on the table between them.

"This is the picture."

She'd memorized it. Her eyes shut. Her shirt open. Her lingerie showing. Her arms reaching for his face, blood trailing down her right arm and a small cut on her cheek from the shattered glass. And his hand strangling her.

"Can I get a copy of this," Vanik asked. It was the first time his voice ever sounded shaky to her.

"No," she stated definitively. "And if CastleView gives in and pays whoever has the picture, I'm not going to sign the contract. Be very clear when you explain that to Janine."

"Bones, wait," Booth cautioned her. She couldn't look him head on, but she didn't need to. The tension in the muscles along his mandible told her everything she needed to know. They still hadn't really talked about any of the actual physical altercations she'd had with McGowan in any detail. This wasn't how she wanted to start.

She grabbed the phone and her bag. She moved around the main area of Booth's place as deliberately as her body could handle, grabbing her laptop, keys and work badge. She returned to the table, and lifting the bottle she poured two sloppy refills, ignoring the scotch that spilled on the table.

"You guys can have a nice long talk about everything you wished I'd done differently. I need some air."

She heard Booth call to her as she walked out and closed the door. She kept walking. Grabbing her new phone she called Angela, asking if she would meet her at the lab despite the time. Then Brennan went back to the Jeffersonian for the first time since the incident, flopped on Angela's office couch and waited.

About ninety minutes into working with Angela her phone rang. Brennen ignored it but got the tone telling her there was a voicemail. The first hour with Ang had been friend catch up time. Then Brennan presented Angela with the problem at hand, and Angela got to work. As Angela began digging for the information she was looking for, Brennan decided to listen to the voicemail from Booth.

"So I'm at your apartment, but you're not here. Trying to give you space, but just need to know you're ok, Bones. Sometimes when .. alpha males are confronted with things that they … can't change and couldn't prevent they feel … helpless… and it comes out in … unproductive ways." Brennan had a hint of smile listening to him try to give her an anthropology answer as a peace offering. "I don't wish you did things differently. I wish it hadn't happened. That's not doubting you." There was a long pause. "I don't want to have this conversation on voicemail. We'll talk when you're ready. Just let me know you're ok, ok?"

"You alright, Bren," Angela asked.

Brennan nodded, grateful to have things back out in the open with her best friend, and comforted by Booth's voicemail. She texted him.

Bones: I'm fine. With Angela.

The response came right away.

Booth: Need anything?

Bones: Breakfast? Diner at 8?

Booth: I'll be there.

Brennan took out her laptop and opened the document containing her statement. While Angela worked her magic, Brennan set to the task of updating the document that contained her statement. She added all the details she had disclosed to Vanik and Booth.

The investigation work Vanik's team did was meticulous, ensuring each piece of evidence was verifiable and legal. She couldn't have the case against McGowan thrown out on a technicality. With Angela, she was less interested in admissibility. Angela helped her pull some pictures and phone records however she could get them. Tomorrow, Bones had a point to make.

She organized the information Angela gave her, but not in the statement - it was a different issue. And then just when she felt like she could take a deep breath her old phone beeped from her bag. Pulling it out she saw the text.

100K or I'll sell the pic to the highest bidder. Be a good girl.

Her deep inhale caught Angela's attention, and when she asked Brennan what was going on she was just handed the phone.

"Oh my god, sweetie. I'm so sorry. Should we call Booth?"

Brennan shook her head. Angela understood, even if she didn't agree, and threw herself into the text. There was nothing to tell them who the person was. They connected the dots to trace how the picture had been shared but weren't any closer to knowing who was demanding money to keep it a secret.

Brennan took the phone back from her friend and buried it back in the bag.

"Ang," Brennan said in little more than a whisper. "No computers, no algorithms, so evidentiary constraints, no mass spectrometer, no x-rays – just you and me. What do I do?"

Angela came and sat by her friend. "What do you want to do, Bren?"

In that moment what she really wanted to do about the photo came to her, and it all spilled out. It was complicated, and risky, but she didn't want to be under the shadow of it, and she wouldn't let herself be a victim of the same crime twice.

"You are incredible, Brennan. Strong, and smart. And we'll all be here. If that's what feels right, then do it. How can I help?"

After the last two months she didn't trust what little instincts she had. It was such a relief to have Angela listen and not second guess. Not judge. Not underestimate what she could handle. Not want to handle it for her. Brennan just put her shoulder against her friend and let herself get pulled into a hug. Then she got to work - she had a lot to do by morning.