(Season 6)

This story takes place after Booth breaks up his relationship with Hannah Burley. This story is AU.

I really don't own Bones.

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She wanted to scream, but instead stood holding the newspaper in her hands, almost paralyzed with anger and rage. Angela read the article twice hoping that what she had read wasn't really there, but to her horror the words didn't change. There they were, there for all the world to read and she knew the world would avidly read this because the world was nosy and lapped up personal information about the rich and famous.

Hodgins strolled into his wife's office carrying the large decaf latte Angela had requested he get her while he was out buying a coffee for himself. "Here Ange . . . Angela what's wrong? Did . . . did someone . . . die?" The look on her face filled him with dread. He had never really seen that emotion on her face before and it frightened him. "Ange tell me what's wrong. Is the baby okay?"

His words penetrating the red hot rage that clouded her mind, Angela thrust the paper at her husband and tried to make sense when she responded. "The baby's fine . . . Look . . . look at this . . . this . . . this . . ." Words failed her and words never failed her.

Terrified with what he might see, Hodgins took the paper and placed her coffee on the desk next to him. Quickly, he read the article Angela had jabbed with her finger. When at first it didn't register he reread it. Stunned, he crumpled the paper in his hand and turned a wary eye on his wife. "Babe I didn't tell her I promise you. This wasn't me. I would never . . ."

Angela grabbed the paper from Hodgins and skimmed the article once more. "I know you didn't do it, Jack. I know you'd never betray me like this . . . Booth, maybe he told her. I mean how else would she find out?"

"Babe, you know Booth doesn't know about this." Hodgins was sure of one thing and that was Booth was loyal to his friends. "Unless you told him, there is no way he knows and I sure as hell didn't tell him. Babe the only other person that knows about this besides your Dad is Brennan and no way would she tell anyone. She hates gossip. She thinks it's a waste of time plus you told her not to tell anyone."

Her anger cooler now, Angela sighed heavily and tried to think. The byline for the news article was what had drawn her to the story in the first place. Hannah was a television reporter, so Angela hadn't realized that Hannah even wrote stories for newspapers let alone the New York Times. "If Booth didn't tell her and Brennan didn't tell her then how did she find out? How . . . just how?"

"I don't know." Hodgins picked up the cup of coffee and urged her to take it. "Come on Babe, have some coffee while we think." Relieved that she was calm enough to take the drink, Hodgins sat on the chair next to the desk and crossed his legs. "Okay, what can we do? You can call Hannah and ask her about it. You can talk to Dr. B or Booth. We can talk to your Dad . . . Babe, maybe he gave an interview and finally talked about it . . ."

"No . . . no he wouldn't. It was too painful for him and it still is." Angela was certain of one thing, her father would never talk to a reporter about this. "Besides, if he did talk to Hannah he would have called me, so I wouldn't be blindsided. No . . . she found out and I need to know how . . . I will have to call Dad though. He needs to know if he doesn't already." The words were barely spoken when Angela's phone rang. "Dad . . . no Dad I didn't tell her. I wouldn't do that . . . Dad, no Jack didn't tell her. Dad, you know Brennan, she wouldn't tell anyone else either and no one else knows. She found out somehow, but I don't know how . . . Dad, Jack and I are trying to consider our options right now. I think I might go talk to Booth and see if he knows where Hannah is since she used to be his girlfriend . . . they broke up, they don't live together now . . . a week . . . yes, I realize that . . . let me check into this for you . . . Dad, let me . . . Dad . . ." The line went dead and Angela pocketed her phone. "Dad is coming."

"Oh shit." Hodgins crossed his arms against his chest and felt frightened for the world. A pissed off Billy couldn't be a good thing. "Oh shit."

"Exactly." Angela placed her cup of coffee down and turned to face her PC. Quickly doing a search she found the phone number for the New York Times. "I'm going to try to track down Hannah and talk to her before Dad gets here. Maybe I can find out who told her and I can confront that person first. I can warn them to flee for their lives because Dad is really mad right now or . . . or maybe I should just stand-by and watch Dad beat the shit out of them. I haven't made up my mind yet."

"Oh shit." Hodgins shook his head and thanked God that he would not be the object of Billy's wrath or his wife's.

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Booth had had a long day. Cam had taken it in her head that a murder had had to be solved in one day and he'd gone a long with it. Not because he cared about Valentine's Day, but because it was something to do. Right now, at that time in his life, he worried about being alone too much. The urge to gamble was like an itch he dared not scratch. Since Hannah had turned down his proposal, he'd been to a Gamblers Anonymous meeting every night. It helped, but not as much as being around his partner. Brennan was the reason why he'd given up on gambling in the first place and no matter how strained their relationship was, he wanted to be sober for her. He wanted her respect and he knew gambling would ruin that.

Weary, he stepped out of his truck, loosened his tie and turned to lock the SUV. That accomplished, he turned and found himself face to face with Angela's father. "Can I help you?"

"I'm a private man, Agent Booth." Billy stood staring at Booth wondering if he could intimidate the agent at all. "I don't like it when someone sticks their nose in my personal business."

Tired and hungry, Booth decided he was done with the conversation. "Welcome to the club." Moving past the musician, Booth moved across the street towards his apartment building.

Not surprised that Booth hadn't folded like his son-in-law would have, Billy silently followed the agent across the street and into the building. Booth was aware that he was being followed and decided to be a pain in the ass. Instead of taking the elevator, he bypassed it, entered the stairwell and climbed the steps rapidly. His feet were tired and hurting, but at that point he didn't care. He didn't like it when someone tried to scare him and he was damned if he was going to let a rock God make him look weak. Once he was on the second floor, he moved down the hallway, Billy following casually behind him. Once the door was open to his apartment, Booth left the door open to see if Billy would follow him in. He had no idea what the man wanted, but he realized he might as well get it over with, whatever it was. He wanted to eat and go to bed.

Billy entered the apartment and closed the door behind him. Moving down the hallway, he quickly entered a cluttered, but neat living room and spotted Booth standing in front of a cabinet, opening a bottle of Scotch. "Did you talk to Hannah Burley about me or my personal business?"

Surprised at the question, Booth took the time to pour himself a glass of Scotch and sip some of the amber liquid. "And what the hell would I know about your personal business? I don't belong to your fan club and I don't read gossip rags. Why don't you tell me what the fuck you want?" Moving over towards his recliner, Booth sat down and removed his shoes. Leaning back, he felt some relief to finally be off of his feet.

Not used to people not quaking when he put pressure on them, Billy removed his sunglasses and placed them in his jacket pocket. Moving over to the Scotch decanter, he picked up a glass and pointed at the Scotch. After Booth nodded, Billy poured himself a couple of fingers of the liquor and moved over to the couch. "You dated Hannah Burley."

"And now you're in my private business." Booth sipped some of his Scotch and wished the older man would get down to business. "We broke up, if it's any of your business and it really isn't."

Billy shrugged his shoulders and sipped some of the Scotch. "Not bad." Placing the glass on the coffee table, he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "She wrote a newspaper article in the New York Times about a tragic time in my past . . . Very few people know about that time. Dr. Brennan was told about it a long time ago by my daughter and you're friends with Dr. Brennan. I figured she told you about it and you told that reporter . . . to impress her maybe?"

His glass now empty, Booth placed it on the floor next to his chair and leaned back. "One, Bones doesn't gossip. She hates that shit and so do I. Two, I don't need to impress anyone. Three, if I did know something about you and your tragic past, why the hell would I tell Hannah? She's a war correspondent not a gossip columnist. Four, this tragic past you're talking about can't be too much of a secret since you're famous and famous people's lives are under a microscope with the press and the fans. I should know, Bones had some freaks for fans and they seem to know everything about her and last but not least, five, I like your music, but I'm not a fucking fan . . . anything else?"

Truly impressed with Booth's return use of intimidation, Billy picked up the glass again and emptied it. "I like you Agent Booth . . . How would Hannah Burley find about something that happened in my past over thirty years ago? It happened in Texas not here. Like I said only a few people know about it and none of them would talk to a reporter about it."

Booth shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know . . . Hannah and I aren't on speaking terms right now. I'm not really on speaking terms with anyone right now except maybe Bones and my grandfather and I'm not really sure about them either."

"So she didn't mention anything about me when you and Hannah were still together?" Billy was starting to feel frustrated. Booth had been the one person that he thought might have had a hand in the newspaper article and now he wasn't so sure. "She had to have been working on this for a while."

Slowly shaking his head, Booth realized that he needed to get a copy of the New York Times and find out what the musician was so upset about. "She's been working as a political correspondent ever since she arrived in the District. Whatever she wrote about, maybe she ran into someone that knew about it and they told her. She didn't tell me about it. The last thing I heard that she'd got wind about was that some congressman from Texas had taken some kickbacks from a major pharmaceutical company and then sponsored a bill to increase the length of time a patent can be held before other companies can start selling drugs as generics."

A chill running down his back, Billy sat up straight. "What congressman?"

"I don't know." Booth really wanted Billy to go away. "Um, maybe Congressman Barlow. I wasn't that interested at the time when Hannah was telling me about it. Congressman Barlow is a pretty rotten piece of shit and nothing the man does surprises me. What I can't figure out is how he keeps getting elected, the sorry bastard."

The cold darkness of the past pressed hard against him and Billy was now sure he knew who had betrayed him. "Agent Booth, I'd like your help if you have the time."

"Look, I'm tired, I'm hungry and I want to go to bed." Booth was certain he didn't want to be involved in whatever Billy was upset about, not if Hannah was involved too. "Why don't you just go back to Texas or where ever the hell you were and just leave me alone? Whatever Hannah wrote about, there are no take backs. Millions of people have seen whatever it is by now. Just get your publicist or manager or whatever to give a press conference and explain your side of whatever the hell it's about and in a few days it will blow over when some other musician or actor does something stupid and gets caught."

Glumly, Billy stared at Booth and debated what he should do next. "Let me tell you a story. It's isn't a long story, but maybe you'll see that this thing that has been done to me and my daughter needs to be revenged. Not necessarily by blood, but a good old fashioned ass whipping might be in order." Since Booth didn't say anything, Billy continued. "It started thirty five years ago . . . "

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