Sorry for the wait. I'm here though and so is the new chapter. We get to hear from Brennan's perspective which was soo much fun to write!

Disclaimer in previous chapters

I'm so grateful for the reviews I receive! It's so good to know that this odd crossover fandom still breathes!

Thank you,

Carpe-Libri

Julianne

Im dead inside

Beautiful-Tyrant77

Guest

Alepex

Guest

NotBornButBroken

TwoBecomeOne

Chapter 5: A Psychological Quandary

Brennan frowned.

It was Monday.

She understood that it was a very common convention for people who worked typical five day workweeks to find Mondays to be especially taxing.

Personally, Mondays didn't really bother Brennan. Though she enjoyed her time off, she also enjoyed getting back to work. Perhaps it was due to the busy and sometimes questionable weekends many people enjoyed, that Mondays tended to bring forth new bodies for Brennan to examine. Her work was her passion, so it made sense to her that she would enjoy returning to it.

Due to those facts, she was generally quite sprightly on Mondays, to her colleagues' occasional irritation.

However, such was not the case this particular Monday.

The reason for which was sitting a few feet away on the patio, sipping coffee and laughing and talking about the weekend to Booth, Angela, and Camille.

Cordelia Chase was back. She had not returned to Los Angeles over the weekend, like Brennan suspected she might. Instead, she had spent what sounded like a delightful and fun-filled weekend with Booth and his son. Inwardly, Brennan was surprised at how fondly Cordelia spoke of Parker, as self-centered personality types, empirically speaking, tended not to like children quite as much. Despite that, there was an unquestionably fond tone as she spoke, but there was also a note of something else in her tone, a wistfulness as she spoke about Booth's son, as though the thought made her nostalgic and yearning. Brennan was unable to divine what the source of that was. Perhaps Cordelia had a younger brother. Then again, Brennan's first impression was that Cordelia seemed like an only child. Maybe a younger cousin. Either way, it was clear that the weekend had gone well. Cordelia seemed sufficiently caught up on Booth's life, having met his child and coworkers. But now she was back here again.

Brennan found herself questioning how long the starlet would be around. It wasn't as though she disliked the movie star. In fact, she found Cordelia to be an entertaining and humorous person— most importantly though, she was a good influence on Booth. Brennan saw him show different facets of his personality she'd never seen before. This disturbed her and comforted her at the same time. It felt as though the more he revealed, the less she actually knew about him. Then again, considering the downward trend he'd been on after the brain surgery, this was a huge improvement in his overall state of being. Perhaps that would be enough.

Still, for whatever reason, a small part of her disliked the presence of the actress and hoped she returned to her home in L.A. sooner rather than later.

For the moment though, Brennan knew she would have to operate around the actress' presence. After taking a deep breath, Bones moved forward and took one of the free seats around the coffee table.

"Morning Bones," Booth greeted. The rest echoed similar sentiments which she similarly returned. Having come into a conversation that had already been started, Cordelia began talking once more, picking up where she had left off.

"Yeah, I actually had to go shopping for more clothes. I wasn't planning on staying here so long," Cordelia laughed.

"Were you in danger of wearing the same outfit more than once?" Booth teased, making her smack his arm.

"How long do you think you'll be staying with us?" Brennan heard herself ask. She automatically wished she hadn't as Camille and Angela looked at her curiously. Thankfully Booth didn't stare at her the same way. Instead he and Cordelia were looking at each other, as though they hadn't thought of it before.

"Uhh," Cordelia's brow was furrowed, "I dunno."

"Surely you have projects pending," Brennan noted, ignoring Angela's piercing gaze.

"Do you, Cordy?" Booth asked. He hated to think she was blowing off important work when she had finally gotten to where she wanted to be in life.

"We're off season. I was proposed a few minor projects, nothing too bad to skip commercials and the like, a few guest appearances, and maybe a talk show or two." She shrugged unconcernedly, "Besides, it's about time I took a vacation. The last time I did was . . ." She trailed off as she tried to remember. Time stretched on as she thought.

"Are you a workaholic?" Booth asked in surprise.

"No," She replied, "I just don't see the point of vacation when I have a private jet and can go wherever I want," She shot back. Angela looked completely jealous. Brennan imagined that the forensic artist probably had lists of places she wanted to visit someday.

"I'll take that as a yes," Booth replied, unphased by her wealth.

"Maybe I should find something to do during the day, if I am going to stay here for a while longer," She said thoughtfully to herself.

"Shopping," Booth suggested dryly, "I've heard that's a popular pastime."

"Even I can get bored with that," She said with a sigh.

"Sacrilege," Angela said, looking serious.

"Blasphemy!" Booth echoed sarcastically.

"Ha ha, mister," She replied, frowning as she tried to come up with something.

"Wow you really are a workaholic," Booth said, a bit of wonder coloring his tone.

"Shush." She paused as she thought. "Maybe I should call up Harmony to come hang out with me," She suggested with a grin, enjoying the paleness of her friend's face. The other women present didn't know who she was talking about, but they had a general idea of the aforementioned woman's temperament from Booth's reaction.

"Ugh," Booth groaned, "Don't even joke about that. Is she still around?" Knowing Harmony and her antics, he was surprised she hadn't been staked before he even met her. Then again, she had the strangest luck and tenacity.

"Yeah, she's still around, surprisingly," Cordelia informed him, "She's been courting the rich and elderly from what I last heard."

"Typical," Booth uttered, making Cordelia smile even wider. He really shouldn't have been surprised.

Cordelia laughed. "Ahh, well I'm sure I'll think of something to do. Until then, I think I'll rearrange your office. I read a book about Feng Shui, you know. About the energy in a room and all that jazz . I think it could really help you!"

"Oh really?" He asked, looking resigned.

"Yes, and I need some muscle to move stuff."

"You do know why I come here right?" He asked, "I come here to work."

"You can't take a break to help me?" She asked raising an unhappy brow.

"An all-day break?" He predicted.

"That would be irresponsible," She said with a falsely chastening tone.

"I would be fine to help you move things for a little while," Brennan volunteered, making all of their eyes flip towards her.

"Really?" Camille asked with no little surprise.

"I could use a little exercise before starting work." Brennan spoke casually. In fact, she did have an ulterior motive. Despite the time the actress spent around the office, Cordelia remained an indefinite variable in her life, and she saw an opportunity to straighten it out.

The movie star looked surprised by the offer, but thought about it a moment before nodding in agreement.

"Alright then," Cordelia said, "another woman's touch couldn't hurt. You're office totally throws off the life energy and stuff, Angel."

"Well, we wouldn't want the universe to be unbalanced, now would we," he smirked at Cordelia who rolled her eyes, but smiled in response.

"Let me grab my paperwork before you go in and move things around," Booth said with a resigned sigh. He quickly climbed the steps to his office.

"Hmph!" Cordelia shook her head, "It's like he thinks we're going to mess everything up."

Angela and Camille smiled before they excused themselves to go to work. Cordelia finished the last of her coffee as Booth descended the stairs, carrying a stack of thick papers.

"Alright then," he said, "I suppose you can go in and do whatever, just don't break anything, and don't mess with anything in my drawers Cordy," he warned, sitting back on the patio which became his temporary desk. The lab was efficient in its use of space and resources. There wasn't a spare table in the entire Jeffersonian that wasn't covered in scientific tools and or bones.

"Don't worry Angel, you're stuff isn't really worth going through," she paused, "Unless you have some alcohol stashed away."

Booth shook his head. "Keep an eye on her, will you Bones?"

The forensic anthropologist nodded before heading toward federal agent's office, Cordelia in tow.

Upon entering, Cordelia scanned the surroundings, a look of disgust on her face. "Honestly, you'd think he'd have some sense of having good flowing energy with all that tai chi stuff. Apparently not." Cordelia snorted.

Brennan took a moment to process her words. Booth did not seem the type for tai chi because it was lengthy and not the typical sort of traditional exercise he liked to do. He preferred lifting weights and jogging if she recalled correctly.

Filing that information away for further pondering in the future, Brennan returned her attention to the task at hand and tried to see what Cordelia was talking about. All she saw was the same cherry wood furniture that had been neatly arranged in a logical manner that utilized the space effectively and kept the office from feeling too cloistered. "Where do we start?" She asked.

"With the couch," Cordelia answered immediately. "If a person wanted to sleep or something, it shouldn't be facing the window where light can come in. Let's flip this first."

Her words made Brennan smile dryly. Cordelia's sudden interest in changing Booth's office was beginning to make sense to her. If she had any doubts about her initial impression on Cordelia and her self-centric focuses, they were quickly laid to rest. No to say that there was any negative connotations with her conclusion. She knew they played their part in society, particularly in the realm of business.

"Are you going to help, or just watch?" Cordelia asked irked. She was waiting on one side of the couch with her hand on her hip.

"Sorry, I was momentarily distracted." Brennan quickly moved to the opposite side and gripped the under section of the couch.

"Alright, one, two three!" On the final count the two heaved the furniture up in the air with dual grunts of effort.

"So, how long have you known Angel," Cordelia asked, her voice a tad strained as they began rotating the couch.

"I suppose it's been about five years now," Brennan answered, "Though that time has had a couple excavations interspersed, and then there's the recovery time for the brain surgery, so with that in mind, I suppose the time we spent together is closer to four or four and half years. Of course then there are a few side matters that required one of us away—"

"I think I get the picture," Cordelia said, cutting off Brennan's lengthy answer, "Sheesh, I'm all for estimated guessing; there's no need to get all technical."

Brennan nodded. "And I suppose you spent a fairly lengthy amount of time with him as a child?"

"Funnily enough I think it was only about five years. It seemed like so much longer" she spoke with a wistful tone as she remembered. The actress paused a moment, "Then again, I did know him before that, but we really didn't spend that much time, so I guess it was more like—" Cordelia caught herself rambling. "Gah! It's contagious!"

Brennan smiled. Inwardly she was trying to figure out the timeline. If it was near five to six years, then it was likely they were friends very young. If she was recalling correctly, his grandfather removed Booth and his brother from their father's custody when he was around ten or eleven years old. So, considering that Booth's grandfather lived in a different state than Booth's parents, it would be safe to assume that he met Cordelia when he was about five, or after he was ten. Would one call a person a childhood friend if they were in their early teens? Brennan didn't know, she admittedly lacked experience in that category.

"Alright, I think that's good," Cordelia said. She seemed satisfied by their work. "I better check it though." With that, the starlet flopped on the couch. "Oh that is much better."

"Is the energy flowing better?" Brennan couldn't help but ask with a small smiled on her face.

"Oh yes," Cordelia sighed. "I think that we could take a break while I reevaluate what needs to be done." The starlet put her forearm over her eyes to block out the bright florescent light.

Of course, Brennan thought, it was apparent to her that the actress was evidently trying to find a place in the lab to sleep. Deciding that she would better spend her time working, Brennan was about to excuse herself. She had gotten an interesting tidbit of information regarding their timeline, and for the moment, that would be enough for her to mull over.

"What exactly is your relationship with Angel?"

The blunt question startled Brennan out of her thoughts. Glancing over to the figure on the couch, she noted the actress peering at her from under her arm. It suddenly struck Brennan that perhaps Cordelia was here for the same reason she was.

"How do you mean?" Brennan asked. "You know," Cordelia said, "What is he to you?"

"In a romantic sense?" Brennan wondered aloud, stalling for time as she carefully considered her answer.

"In whatever sense," Cordelia pressed, "if it's romantic, then in a romantic sense."

Brennan sighed before assembling her reply.

"He is my partner at work and afterhours I consider him to be a . . . close friend." Brennan suddenly realized that that was exactly what Booth was. When had he gotten so close to her? When did he become a permanent fixture in her life? She shook herself out of her thoughts and instead glanced at Cordelia to gauge her response. Would the actress appear glad to know that Booth remained unattached?

The actress sighed, but it was neither in relief nor upset. "That's good to hear."

"You and he still seem close," Brennan observed. "Even after all this time."

Cordelia smiled somewhat crookedly, "Well, when you go through some of the stuff we have together; you sort of bond with a person."

"I see," Brennan said, "It's natural to create such bonds when there is trauma," She murmured the last part to herself. Things were beginning to make sense.

"Did you say trauma?" The actress shot up from the couch, startling Brennan.

"I am referencing his issues with his father," Brennan cleared up, frowning at Cordelia's response.

After a long pause, the other woman sighed. "Of course. That was hard for him." She shook her head, "I'm surprised he told you about it though, he's pretty secretive about his life."

Brennan nodded. Perhaps Cordelia was upset that Booth shared his problems with Brennan.

"It was only recently, really," The forensic anthropologist said.

"Does he seem okay about it now? I mean, after everything that happened . . ." The actress looked distressed, almost teary eyed.

Brennan's smile was soft and genuine. "I think so. He appears to have coped with it appropriately and has not let it interfere with pursuing what he wants in life."

"That sounds like him," Cordelia also smiled before it faded and she frowned, "Well, I just wonder sometimes why stuff like that happens."

"Well," Brennan paused, "Generally it is a cycle of abusers. Those that were abused as children often times grow up and abuse their children. Also child abuse is common for parents that are alcoholics—"

Cordelia let out a strangled cry, startling Brennan. She looked over to see the actresses' pale face. Her knuckled were clenched so tightly one could see the white of her bones.

"Why can't they just leave him alone!?" She demanded furiously, seemingly to no one. Brennan stared at her blank surprise.

"What's going on?" Booth skidded into the room, hand on his gun, having jumped into action the moment he'd heard Cordelia scream. When he didn't see a threat, he dropped his tense stance.

"Cordelia?" He asked tentatively. She was clearly upset. Booth walked over and gripped both of her shoulders as he looked over her with a concerned expression.

"What's wrong?" He asked, searching her face.

"They made your father an alcoholic?!" She asked, her voice climbing pitch, as her eyes watered. "Why you? Why do they keep messing with you? I mean, haven't you already paid your dues? Haven't they messed with you enough?!" She shouted.

It was then that Brennan realized that the actress had tricked her. Clearly Cordelia's performing skills were not only used for the stage. Brennan should have known from her first reaction that Cordelia didn't know what she was taking about. She felt guilt stab at her for accidently revealing Booth's rather personal business to his friend. She should have figured out that Cordelia was leading her on.

The actress' eyes flickered to Brennan who had watched the entire thing unfold. Booth suddenly noticed Brennan was there watching them.

"Ah, do you think you could step out a moment?"

"Yeah sure," Brennan said distractedly.

Booth kept his eyes trained on Cordelia. "Look Cordy, it's alright—" He began.

She cut him off vehemently, "Alright? Alright?! How can any of this be alright! All of its wrong, just so so wrong!" Why would they do that, how could they, after everything you sacrificed and everything we went through to fix their fucking messes and balance the goddamn universe, they do this?! Where's the fucking equivalence in that!" A few tears escaped her eyes and she quickly swiped them away with an angry hand.

Booth bit his tongue. Clearly he should wait before telling her he'd been a sniper in the war.

"Look, it sucked but I don't hold it against them," Booth began to explain, "I—"

"Why? Why don't you?!" She asked, cutting him off, "How can you just let it all go when Powers screw with you so much!"

Booth sighed before answering in a slow and deliberate manner. "One thing I've learned in my very, very, very, long life, is that people learn and connect through pain sometimes." He spoke softly. "This life had to deal with its own level of hardships. Had to go through its own struggles so that I could be who I am today."

"It still isn't fair," she muttered with angry and teary eyes.

"I gained something through all that pain too," he assured her. "I gained a well," he mulled it over before answering, "a foster family. Bones and Dr. Sweets, ah, he's our psychiatrist, they've both dealt with that same sort of pain . . ." he trailed off, "being able to share and connect with people— well, it soothes it."

She didn't say anything, and he didn't push her. Eventually, after her tears had dried, up, she spoke again.

"I don't like it." The sentence was simple, almost childlike.

"I know."

They stayed like that for a long while, simply standing in front of the other. Eventually, Cordelia took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. For the moment, she supposed she just had to accept his answer. On one level it relieved her to find out that he had such good friends this time around. Ones he could share his troubles with. Especially considering the shitty hands the Powers had, (once again,) dealt him. On another level, it was distressing— She wasn't a part of his newest foster family. And she knew he would have never shared what had happened with her. Maybe that was the line between who Angel was, and who he had become through his life as Booth.

"Do you really see a psychiatrist?" She asked with a half-smirk, breaking the tenseness.

He smiled, "Yeah, Bones and I see Dr. Sweets once a week." He paused, "We didn't always used to get on as well as we do now . . ."

"I would love to see you getting psychoanalyzed," Cordelia grinned.

He rolled his eyes and she fell silent once more. Her brow was still furrowed, and Booth struggled to find a topic to fill the silence.

"They sent me to another one once because I shot a clown," He stated. He saw her mouth fall open.

"WHAT?! You killed a clown?!" Cordelia asked shocked.

"No, I didn't kill I just shot."

"Wounded!" She amended, "Like seriously from the sound of it."

"It wasn't a real clown," he finally clarified, "It was just some dumb mascot on an icecream truck.

"Did it offend you in some way, or was it caught in the crossfire on one of your chases?" She speculated.

"Neither," Booth revealed, "It was just annoying. Besides I hate clowns. They're evil. I don't need probable cause to shoot evil things."

Now Cordelia really laughed.

He smiled eventually and laughed too. For the moment, they could still smile. Cordelia supposed she could let the conversation die . . . For now. If she ever met The Powers though, she was going to kick the shit out of them, corporeal or not— she'd find a way.

Brennan exited Booth's office and stood at the entrance deep in thought. Behind her she heard muffled shouts from Cordelia. Brennan noted the Zack, Hodgins and Angela were seated at the coffee table, which was still covered with Booth's paperwork.

"Is Cordelia okay?" Hodgins asked, "We heard her screaming . . ."

"Is she mad at Booth for some reason?" Zack asked, noting that they could still hear the sounds of yelling.

"Yes, she is alright, she was deeply unsettled by something," Brennan explained. Her brow furrowed in thought.

"Are you alright?" Angela asked slowly.

"I'm fine," Brennan waved her concern away, "Just confused about a few things."

"What is it?" Angela pressed

"I thought I understood something, but it turned out I was wrong."

"Let me guess," Angela said, rubbing her forehead with her fingers, before suddenly snapping "It has something to do with Booth and Cordelia."

Brennan blinked. "How did you know?"

"Honey, I know you well enough to know that when something is really stumping you, it usually involves Booth."

"So what's confusing you," Angela asked.

"The part about his childhood," Brennan said carefully, keeping her sentences vague. "I thought I knew how they bonded but I was mistaken. Now I don't know what it was that created such a strong bond since I have to discard my previous theory."

It was Hodgins who replied with a shrug. "Kids live hectic lives, who knows what kind of trouble they got into."

"I know, you're probably right," Brennan said, though the niggling feeling would not leave her. "It's just that yesterday when she was saying goodbye . . ."

" . . It was like she though he was dead or something." Zack finished.

"Yeah."

"Maybe they were friends before he went to the army and she thought he was killed in action or something," Hodgins hypothesized.

Bones frowned, "That's a long time to let someone think you were dead for."

"Maybe he thought she wouldn't care because he saw she was some fancy movie star?" Angela suggested

"That could be," Brennan admitted grudgingly. There was still something that didn't sit right with her about the conclusion. She decided to ask the other question on her mind.

"I was wondering," Brennan began again, "If you were friends with someone when you were in your early teens, would you still call them a childhood friend?"

"What?" Hodgins uttered, confused by the sudden change in subject.

"I'm just wondering," Brennan asked.

"Well, what ages are we talking about specifically?" Angela asked, humoring her friend. Something about the way Brennan asked told Angela she was serious.

"The ages ten through fifteen or sixteen."

"Well," Hodgins began slowly. He'd never thought of that before. "I mean I think I would. You aren't really an adult until you're eighteen. Everything before that is childhood, I'd say."

Zack snorted, "I disagree. Teenagedom is a time in which you break away from the childish things. I'd say one would not call them a childhood friend. Those are the bonds you make in grade school."

"Well," Angela smiled at Zack, "It may have something to do with your 'teenagedom,'" She put little air quotations over the word, "being a lot more recent than most of ours."

Hodgins laughed and Brennan and Angela both smiled at his surly expression.

"Cordelia!"

Booth's sudden panicked cry drew the scientist back towards the office. Brennan realized that she hadn't heard any yelling from the room in some time. After entering the office, she saw Booth was bent over holding the starlet who was collapsed on the ground in his hands. Her pretty face was scrunched up in pain.

Hodgins, Zack, and Angela filed in after Brennan and the etymologist exhaled.

"Woah, what's going on?"

"I need a glass of water and tylenol?" Booth asked urgently, ignoring the question.

"Um I think I might have some in my purse," Angela replied, quickly leaving the room.

"Can you get me some water Zack?" He demanded more than asked, and Zack leapt into action. Brennan and Hodgins hovered awkwardly. It was then that Camille entered the office and looked over the situation with a frown.

"What's going on? Is Miss Chase alright?" She asked concernedly. Her gaze turned to Hodgins and Brennan looking for answers.

"We don't know. She was already like this when we got here," Hodgins quickly explained.

"Cor," Booth said shaking her gently, "Cordy, are you alright?"

Her breath came in short bursts and there was a light sheen of sweat on her face.

"Is she going to be okay?" Hodgins asked nervously.

"She'll be fine," Booth said distractedly as he lifted her off the ground and over to the couch that she and Brennan had so recently moved.

Zack came puttering back into the room, a glass of water held tightly in his hands.

"Thanks," Booth murmured taking the glass.

"Ugh," Cordelia uttered, finally seeming to break through her pain.

"Cordy?" Booth asked.

"Angel?" She murmured, still a little distant.

"Have some water; Angela is getting some Tylenol right now." He soothed her before passing the the glass and helping her sit up.

"Thanks," she murmured, sipping on the water. Her brow was still stressed from the pain.

"That's one thing I didn't miss about this," she said vaguely and he gave her a wan smile.

"Here! I got the Tylenol right here!" Angela said as she reentered the room. She knelt next to the couch Cordelia was on and began tipping two pills out.

"Oh no, she'll need more that that," Booth said, taking the bottle. He shook the bottle until there were five pills in his hand.

"Wow, are you going to fix her headache by killing her liver?" Hodgins asked sarcastically.

"Angel . . ." she dragged out.

"No, take the first five and if you still need more you can have another one. Hodgins is right about your kidney," Booth spoke firmly.

"If They kill me through kidney poisoning, I will NOT be happy," she said angrily.

Booth shared a weak smile with her.

"Um, 'they?'" Angela asked, her voice laced with confusion.

"Uhm, the medicine companies?" Cordelia tried.

"It's an inside joke," Booth covered quickly.

"I'll say," Cordelia grumbled. "And you really, really don't want to be in on it," she said as she took another Tylenol from the bottle, despite Booth's disapproving look.

The squints exchanged puzzled glances.

"Cordy," Booth hesitated, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, she said at length, "It wasn't as bad as it used to be, it's just been so long since I've had one, I'm a bit out of practice."

"One what?" Zack finally asked the question that was on all of their minds.

"Uhm, I used to get these really painful, and sudden migraines—" she paused and said softer, "Well, I guess now it's 'I get' again."

"It looks as though you've made it through the worst of it," Camille commented before glancing around the room. "You all need to return to work soon," the director warned, "Do take care, Miss Chase." And with that, she stepped out of the room.

"Cordy," Booth said hesitantly, "Was there anything you . . ." he trailed off.

"Oh yeah! Wow it hurt so much I almost forgot." Her face turned serious. "Fred, I saw Fred."

"Fred?!" Booth asked with surprise. "I thought you said Fred was working on the space station.

"She is—well, she was, or I guess she won't be soonish . . . Gah, I don't know Angel!"

"Right Sorry, just tell me—"

"Did you say space station?" Zack asked in surprise.

He paused, remembering their audience.

"Uhm, would you guys mind giving us a moment to ourselves?"

The four of them exchanged glances, and reluctantly left the duo alone, questions swirling around their heads.

"Right, so what do you remember?" He asked.

"Right, okay, focus Cordelia," she said to herself.

"I saw Fred. She's back in the city, wait, I saw the capitol building . . .and I think she's in D.C!" Cordelia's eyes popped open in surprise.

"Is that all? Did you see anything else?"

Cordelia shook her head. "That's all I saw."

"Okay, right, well, I suppose we should try and find her. There must be a reason you saw her in your vision."

Cordelia nodded in agreement. "Uhm, do you think I could rest for a while first?" she asked, "It doesn't seem terribly urgent, not like the visions I usually get anyways. It was also nighttime, so I think we have a little time . . ."

"Of course!" he said, remembering how tired she used to be after a vision.

"You can lie down here for a bit. I'll finish up my work and you can come back to my apartment and have a proper rest there before we look for Fred."

"I have a hotel room" she said with a light frown.

"I'd feel better if you were with me," he said honestly, "If you have another vision, I'd rather be nearby."

Cordelia's eyes narrowed, "You're not going to babysit me 24/7 Angel," She hissed, "I can take care of myself."

"Look, Cordy," Booth said with a sigh, "What if it happens while you were in the elevator or the lobby? What if it happens while you were alone? What if it happens on the stairs?!"

She bit her lip unhappily. In the past, they had many friends who were always around, always ready to help, never too far away . . . it wasn't such a problem. She also had her heavy duty medication that allowed her to pull herself together relatively quickly. But now, she had neither.

"I know I can't be there all the time," Booth admitted, "but at least let me be there part of the time."

She sighed, "I guess there's no getting out of this, is there?" She asked sarcastically.

Booth gave her a wry smile, happy that he had gotten his way. "Not at all."

"Fine, we'll drive by the hotel later and get my stuff." She decided, "For now I'll just lie down for a bit, okay?" She winced as she moved a little too quickly in lowering herself down.

"Ah, actually, that would work out well; Bones and I have therapy in a little bit," He said, studying her face to see if she would need more medicine.

She managed a weak smile, "You have to go to that. For the sake of all the clowns out there, you need to be as mentally balanced as possible."

He laughed lightly at what she said before he quickly gathered some of the paperwork he still had to do. He turned off the lights as he left. He clicked the doors shut softly and turned around. He jumped with surprise as he saw four very suspicious squints staring at him.

"Thanks for the Tylenol Angela," Booth said slowly as he passed the bottle back, looking at the four as he did.

"No problem," she replied, her eyes never leaving his face. He tried to ignore them and returned back to the coffee table and reclaimed his seat. They followed and hovered around. Finally he turned to face them.

"What?" he asked, uncomfortable from their intense focus.

"What's with you having friends on the space station?" Hodgins asked with squinted eyes.

"I honestly didn't know until recently," he said defensively, "and besides that, it really isn't any of your business."

"How could you not know you had a friend up there?" Zack asked incredulously, "Do you know the kind of people they choose to go up there?"

"She and I haven't talked much recently," he rebuffed.

"Wait she? Fred's a girl?" Angela asked curiously.

"Yeah, so?"

"That name is particularly unusual for a female to have," Brennan put in.

"Well, it's short for Winifred," he said as he shuffled his papers.

"Wait," Zack said, his face blank, "Are you talking about Winifred Burkle?"

"Yeah, that's her last name," Booth said, pulling out the most important documents he needed to finish today.

"You're friends with THE Winifred Burkle, the one with three PHD's in astrophysics, biochemical engineering and microbiology? The scientist who writes the textbooks for Harvard?!" His voice climbed in pitch to impressive heights.

Booth blinked "She has been busy," he said in amazement. Cordelia had left a lot of stuff out. Fred was in one word, resilient. She had recovered from Pylea and then from what happened with Illyria and the loss of . . . He shook himself. "Good for her." She deserved success.

"Good for— what?! I can't—"

"I don't believe it," Hodgins said stubbornly. "You're messing with us."

"Yep, that's me," Booth said sarcastically, "I would look up someone on the space shuttle, convince my best friend to play along with it, just so I could mess with you all."

"Sounds about right."

"Are we in middle school?" Booth rolled his eyes and began to studiously ignore them. He was getting sick of all their questions. Couldn't they all just let him be? They didn't need to know everything about his life . . . They really didn't want to know everything about his life.

He sighed and worked on finishing his paperwork. Brennan and Angela left, though the curious expressions had yet to leave their faces. Hodgins and Zack, on the other hand, continued to attempt to probe him for answers but he resolutely remained silent. Camille came by a few minutes later and snapped them into action, much to Booth's delight. After about half an hour, he and Brennan needed to leave for therapy.

"Make sure to call me if she gets another headache," Booth said seriously to Hodgins, Angela and Zack.

"Yes, yes, we heard you the first five times," Angela rolled her eyes at his blatantly overprotective behavior.

"I'm serious."

"Go on, or you'll be late!" Angela urged.

Reluctantly, Booth did as she suggested and left the building, Brennan in tow, and headed for the office of one Dr. Sweets.

So? Do we like the hints of Fred? I made up Fred's silly credentials because she probably is that awesome, and using connections at wolfram and hart, anything is possible, really. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I liked thinking like Brennan, and I tried to be creative about how I began introducing details of Booth's past.

I also tried to stay in character, but I really struggled with this one. Damn. Julianna brought up a very good point in the last fic about how I left out the detail of Angel's obsessive period with Darla, in which he drew plenty. (I need to go and fix that . . .) I'm really glad she pointed it out though. If Y'all find something wrong, please message me!

Also, to the first anon guest that reviewed on chapter four on May 26th; If you're reading this, be aware that I have not given up on my lotr Kenshin crossover story. It isn't abandoned. I update this one because a lot of the beginning is written out. I also read every review, so while I'm delighted you like the story so much, I think it would be better if that review went in my crossover fic section, instead of this one. :} Again, I'm grateful for your enthusiasm.

Anyways, thanks for reading y'all

REview?