This will be a multi-chapter fic that encompasses an entire "episode" of Bones, with an actual case being solved and exploration of how the characters interact while working on the case. I'm not sure how many chapters there will be, so stay tuned. I'm kind of a detail fanatic, so chapters will be long.

Pairing: B/B - but the whole gang will appear

Rating: Up to M

Timing: After Season 6 season finale

I own no one and nothing but a wild imagination and a trusty keyboard.

The Cradle Will Rock - Chapter 1

The cold drizzle of the early November night hung as a mist in the air. There was no sound in the dense stand of trees except for the sharp tip of the shovel cutting into the ground. The soil had not yet frozen, which made the digging easier, but the rain was slowing the process and the damp leaves created a slimy surface underfoot.

A single figure dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans turned to look into the vacant eyes of the woman lying on the ground. There were twigs and dried grass in her hair, and her skin was so pale as to be nearly translucent. She had been heavy to drag into the woods, but the deed was done and soon she would be covered in dirt, left for the insects and rodents to feed upon over the coming winter. No one would find her until it was far too late to determine her identity.

Finally the hole was deep enough and once the woman was lying at the bottom, the job of shoveling the dirt back in was undertaken. When it was done and a layer of wet leaves covered the disturbed ground, the woods were silent once more. As the sunrise struggled to break through the thick cloud cover, the rain turned to snow and within hours the place where the woman lay cold and still was indistinguishable from the woods around it.

[BOOTH'S APARTMENT - WASHINGTON, DC]

Dr. Temperance Brennan stood in her stocking feet and skirt, her arms bent behind her back in an effort to fasten her bra.

"Damn!" she swore under her breath. There was no way the bra was going to close, thanks to her swollen breasts. It looked like she was going to have to make a shopping trip very soon.

"What's wrong?" Booth asked. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom, wearing only a towel and an irresistible grin. His hair was still damp from the shower.

"My bra doesn't fit anymore."

His smile widened as he walked toward her. He cupped her full breasts in his hands and kissed her softly on the lips.

"Somehow, that doesn't seem like such a problem to me," he said mischievously.

She playfully slapped his hands away.

"Booth, come on. I have to get to the lab. Help me with this." She slipped the straps of the bra over her shoulders and turned her back to him.

"What? You want me to fasten it? That's just wrong," he joked as he hooked the bra closed. "After all the years I spent learning how to unfasten one of these."

She turned and gave him a sly smile. "There will be plenty of time for that later."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

She hummed under her breath while she buttoned her blouse. She was still getting used to the fact that they were together. Really together - not just as partners. The night after Mr. Nigel-Murray had died she had finally given in to desire for Booth. She had been so afraid that once they slept together things between them would change forever that for days after that she had avoided him. Things had changed, but in a good way. Once she accepted her feelings for him, they were again able to work together. The comfort they felt around one another was still there, enhanced by an undercurrent of the love that had been there all along. There were still doubts in the back of her mind about whether they could make a relationship work long term, but there was a baby on the way and for that reason they had to give it a try.

She finished dressing and went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

"Booth?" she called. "Do you have any crackers?" Her stomach was growling and she was again surprised at how much more hungry she seemed to be since becoming pregnant. She opened a few cupboard doors but found only canned goods, bottles of wine, and some drinking glasses. The refrigerator held leftovers from their Chinese dinner the night before and beer. Didn't he keep any food at his place?

"In the cabinet next to the stove," he called back. A moment later he came into the kitchen dressed in his suit pants and shirt, his tie hanging loose around his neck.

"Don't you want something more than that to eat?" he asked.

"No, thank you. I'm not able to eat anything else in the morning due to the nausea caused by the increase in human chorionic gonadotropin produced by my body at this point in my pregnancy."

Booth grinned. He loved it when she talked technical. "I heard that having morning sickness means the baby is healthy, so the more of that gonada-tropic stuff the better.

"Gonadotropin," Brennan corrected, as she took a tea bag from a canister on the counter. It was her favorite kind and she knew he kept it there just for her. "And hopefully, the nausea will subside by the end of my first trimester."

"That's coming up quick, isn't it?" Booth put his hand on her slightly rounded belly, rubbing it gently.

"Yes. I'm eleven weeks now. I can't believe how fast the time seems to be passing. Our child is nearly two inches long now and likely has fingernails."

"Wow, fingernails. So…everyone at the Jeffersonian is going to figure it out pretty soon, don't you think?"

Brennan poured hot water into her cup and shook her head. "My colleagues don't possess observational skills as advanced as mine. I doubt anyone will be aware of my condition until we choose to announce it."

"And when will that be?"

There was a glint in his eyes like that of child on Christmas morning. He had been pestering her to tell her friends so that he did not have to keep the secret any longer. It had been only three weeks since she had broken the news to him that he was going to be a father for the second time, and he couldn't be more excited. He almost spilled the beans when he was at the lab last week, but he managed to change the subject quickly and no one was the wiser.

"I told you before; I want to wait until all of the prenatal test results are back. I just want to make sure everything is fine." Her brow furrowed with concern.

"Everything is fine," he insisted.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do, Bones. Yes, I do. And at least you'll be well equipped to feed the kid when she gets here," he said, dropping his gaze to her breasts.

"Very funny. How do you know it's a she?"

He leaned in and kissed her. "I told you - I just know."

She put down her teacup and hugged him close.

"I just want the baby to be healthy," she whispered.

He held her tightly, hardly believing even now that she was in his arms.

"And smart?" he countered.

She pulled back a bit and looked at him seriously.

"The probability of our child being intelligent is quite high."

"Well, Bones, if she's as smart and as beautiful as you, she's not going to date until she's thirty."

The sudden sound of Booth's phone interrupted their playful mood. He let her go and reached for the offending object.

"Booth," he answered with what she thought of as his 'FBI voice.' When he finished talking he snapped the phone shut.

"We've got a case."

[A WOODED AREA OUTSIDE BETHESDA, MARYLAND]

Booth parked the SUV along the side of a two lane rural road. The coroner's van and multiple police vehicles were already there, and a uniformed officer was stretching yellow crime scene tape between the trees. The air was cool, but the first leaves of spring turned the woods a brilliant green.

Brennan pulled a pair of latex gloves over her hands as they walked toward where a number of police were gathered. She had tucked her hair into a bun and the loose blue jumpsuit masked her expanding abdomen. Booth held her elbow as they walked.

"Booth," she said under her breath, "let go of me. I can walk by myself."

"The ground is slippery here. I just don't want you to fall."

"I'm pregnant," she hissed, "not an invalid."

"Okay, okay." He took his hand from her arm. "What do we have here?" he asked a cop who appeared to be in charge.

"Bones," the man replied. "Lots of bones. A couple of bird watchers tripped over them. Looks like they were buried in a shallow grave."

"Good thing I'm here, then," Brennan said, and she began to investigate the remains. "The subject is female, approximately 25-30 years old. There are still some clothing fragments present. Hodgins will check for fibers, and insect activity to help determine date of death." She picked up a skull with one gloved hand. "Features suggest Caucasian."

Her gaze traveled to the bones of the arms. "Multiple phalanges and the left ulna show what appear to be defensive wounds."

She brushed decaying leaves and dirt away from the lower half of the skeleton.

"Booth?" she called to him, her voice strained. "She was pregnant."

He met her eyes and held them. He knew she tried to distance herself from the victims whose remains she investigated, but this one hit close to home. He walked to where she was bent over the bones of what had once been a woman and her unborn child.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah...yes. Just... let's get these back to the lab." She stood up and began to remove her gloves.

"Doc?" called one of the detectives from several yards away. "We've got another one."