A/N: This was my second multi chap which I was silly enough to post all in one chap. So I am re-posting, separating the chaps. My apologies to those who have me on author alert.

CHAPTER 1

Brennan was typing up a report on one of the unknown soldiers from WWI. The man, no, scratch that, BOY, had only been 19. Randall Hanson had died of a gunshot wound to the chest. His remains had been found in a mass grave on a battlefield in Germany. His family, what was left of them, would now have a skeleton to bury in the empty casket that had been buried all those years ago. They would have closure, they'd finally know for sure what had happened to Randall. She knew that feeling, had felt it when they finally learned what had happened to her mother. The heartache that had come as a result of all the other information surrounding her death coming to light was with her still. Nobody who remembered Randall was still alive these 90 or so years later, so the facts concerning his fate would just become a matter of family history. Brennan envied that family in some ways. If only time would take that pain away from her.

She managed to forget about it for long stretches, then some sound or smell, some fragment of memory would jerk it out of her subconscious, squeezing her heart and reopening wounds she'd thought were healed. Having answers hadn't brought the peace she had hoped for. It had just brought more pain.

Booth strode into her office as she sent the report to the printer. "Bones, we've got a case," he said, his sharp eyes taking in the tears streaks that she hurriedly wiped away, trying to conceal the move by swiping her hair behind both ears. She pulled the report off the printer and put it in the folder and he read the label upside down. Ah, another soldier. The fact that she continued with her work identifying the unknown soldiers in spite of the pain it might bring was one of the things he loved about her.

It had been nearly three weeks since Matt Hines had shot him and he was now completely healed. He and Bones hadn't had a case in all that time and she had been avoiding him, much to his amusement. If she thought he was going to just forget about it, she was wrong. It was almost time.

She stood and removed her lab coat, slipping on her sweater. "Well, hello. How have you been? Fine, just fine, thanks for asking, Booth. And you?" She smiled at his quizzical look and relented. "So, what's the case?"

Booth pulled out his notepad. "Body found in an alley in a really seedy part of town, major decomp, so who knows how long it's been there. C'mon," he urged, grabbing her arm as she picked up her kit.

"There you go abducting me again. Booth, don't you trust me to come along without dragging me? The crime scene isn't going anywhere. I think you need to bring this up at your next therapy session. Maybe it has to do with your control issues."

Booth glanced at her, clearly irritated at her reference to his therapy. "I don't want to talk about my control issues and I really don't want to talk about my sessions with Gordon Gordon. Let's go." He continued to hold her arm as though afraid he'd lose her on the way to the car. Brennan stopped and pulled her arm out of his grasp.

"I don't need to be pulled along like a four year old." She folded her arms and glared at him. Booth stopped and turned to her. He suppressed a grin. She looked like a four year old about to have a tantrum.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Can we go now?" Brennan studied him for a moment, trying to gauge his sincerity. He wore his most sincere expression. Rolling her eyes, she hefted her kit, then turned and headed for the parking garage. Booth strode after her, keeping his hands to himself. Don't forget the martial arts training, Booth. Though he doubted she could kick his a, he sure didn't want to find out.

The body had been dumped in a corner of the alley and covered with a bunch of debris. Brennan crouched by the body, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of the scene.

"Body was found by a vagrant picking through the trash. Any idea how long he/she has been dead?" Booth was hovering, as usual, and Brennan was trying to ignore the hovering. She almost succeeded.

"Judging by the decomp and bug activity, 4 to 6 weeks. We'll know more when we get her to the lab."

"Her?"

"Yeah, she's female, early twenties, probably African-American. It looks like she was wearing some kind of spandex pants and what I think is called a buster?"

"Buster?" he repeated, trying to figure out what Bones might be talking about.

Brennan made a motion toward her chest area and tried to elaborate. "You know, women wear them to emphasize their--"

Comprehension dawned. "You mean bustier? Like what Madonna wears?"

"I don't know who that is. Anyway, that's what she was wearing."

Booth didn't even bother trying to explain Madonna. "I wonder how she ended up in an alley in this part of town."

Brennan glanced up at him, her expression grim. "You know I don't like to speculate until I have evidence. That's your area."

Back at the lab, Booth was hovering again. The squints were working the evidence, rattling off scientific terms that he needed a translator's help with, and generally irritating him by ignoring his presence. He tried to keep his impatience tamped down, but it had already been nearly two hours and they hadn't given him anything to work with yet. He felt pretty useless.

Angela gave him a sympathetic look from where she sat at the computer. Until the skull was macerated, she didn't really have anything to do either. She decided to make Booth her project.

"Hey, Booth, let's go get some coffee. Have you had lunch yet?"

Booth looked at her distractedly from his position next to Brennan, who was examining the torso of the body. "Huh? Oh, no, I missed lunch."

Angela got up and pulled on his sleeve. "C'mon then, let's go get something, give them some room to work." He didn't move and Angela wondered if he was even listening. She pulled harder on his sleeve and he looked at her again, finally focusing on her.

"What? Oh, okay. We'll be back in twenty, Bones."

Brennan didn't look up. "Okay. Zach, what do you think of this?" Booth was impressed by her intense concentration. It was like he wasn't even there.

In the cafeteria, Angela and Booth sat down and started eating. She studied him as she took a bite of her salad. His brow was furrowed and she knew he was going over the case in his head, trying to find an angle he could work. With the little they had so far, she felt there was little chance he'd have any success. She decided a little distraction was in order.

"So, Booth, are you and Brennan dating?" That got his attention. His eyes snapped to hers. She smiled.

"What makes you ask that?" He tried to remember if he and Bones had betrayed the status of their relationship, such as it was, in the last few weeks. Nothing came to mind, but Angela had really sharp instincts when it came to things like that.

Angela smiled wider because he hadn't denied it. "It's okay, I don't think anyone else is aware of it. I'm just very attuned to those kinds of vibes. I just can't figure out if you've made your move yet."

Booth was relieved. "No, we aren't dating. Bones thinks it's a bad idea. I don't agree. I'm trying to change her mind." He took a bite of his sandwich so he wouldn't have to say more. Angela wasn't to be put off.

"Brennan cares about you--a lot--Booth. But she has some growing to do in the relationship department. She's already come a long way in the last couple years since she's been working with you. Maybe she just needs a little push in the right direction."

Booth smiled, appreciating the encouragement.

"A little push, eh?" Booth continued eating, thoughts on his stubborn partner. Angela focused on her salad, trying not to smile too much. Mission accomplished.