Ok, so just a quick little one shot to give my insight into Cam, enjoy : )

They told me she was broken

They told me she was broken. When I'd heard of the position at the Jeffersonian through a colleague I knew immediately I had to have it but I was warned, warned of the infamous Dr. Temperance Brennan and the reins she held over 'her' lab.

'I've heard she's a right ice queen. Messed up.'

That was Jennifer, cynical as ever.

'Have you met her?'

As sceptical as I was about anything that exited the lips of my friend and fellow pathologist Jennifer Collings, who was known for her thirst for gossip and other peoples business, I couldn't help but want to know more about the anthropologist who was all that way away in DC.

'Not personally but you only have to step foot inside a forensics conference to hear her name. Her jobs her life.'

'So she's focused? That's a good thing.'

Jennifer laughed and took another sip of her espresso.

'I wouldn't call it focussed as much as obsessed. That woman has issues. My friend Helen who works in Florida went to a seminar where she was speaking once and told me all about it. By all account the woman doesn't have an ounce of humour in her.'

I smiled and shook my head but Jen wasn't done.

'You wanna be careful. She doesn't sound like the kind of woman who'll bend to your rule.'

I smiled again.

'Oh, don't worry about me. There hasn't been a person yet who I haven't been able to 'bend to my rule'.'

Jennifer laughed.

'Oh I believe it Camille, I believe it.'

I had shaken off Jennifer's warnings and bid farewell to New York. The Jeffersonian with its larger than average budgets and better than usual equipment awaited and I wasn't about to let scare stories about a woman who's boss I was about to become keep me from it. Then I met her.

She certainly was a pretty thing and brilliant too, there was no denying her skill and insight, I had to give her that but everything Jennifer had said was true. She came off as cold, calculating, insensitive and about a million other adjectives that would usually be used to describe a serial killer or an eighty year old loner with an over-fondness for cats not a beautiful thirty year old woman in her prime who was at the top of her field.

Our first meeting did not go well. The woman annoyed me, it was as simple as that and I knew from the off that in truth we were more alike than either of us were willing to admit, that was the real problem. She irritated me, unwilling to follow orders or recognise my position and I resented the natural respect other members of the lab had for her.

'You should give her a break you know'

I whipped round from the body I was examining to face Angela.

'I should give her a break?'

The irrefutable Dr. Brennan had just stormed from the autopsy room after yet another argument, this time about the usage of lab funds. The anthropologist seemed to have forgotten just who was in charge of the funds, in short she had forgotten her place in the grand scheme of things. Now her best friend was looking at me like I was the bad guy.

'She's the one that never backs down.'

'Is it surprising, experience has taught her that its usually the only way to get what you want. What was the fight about this time anyway?'

I reached for the scalpel I had previously placed on the metal table beside me and continued to work as I spoke.

'She wants us to employ an extra lab technician and she wants approval for funding to go ahead with a research project into the relationship between bone density and related fracture patterns.'

The words meant nothing to Angela, she was a crayon and paint girl but she knew her friend.

'Like I said, you should give her a break. Bren's problem is…her problem is she cares to much.'

I scoffed but I knew in some ways she was right. Stubborn she may be but Temperance Brennan did care and her passion for her job was clear for all to see.

'She's uptight all the time. That woman has issues.'

Angela shrugged.

'Who doesn't? I'm not going to lie, she's flawed, maybe more than most but it isn't her fault.'

There it was again, the allusion to the fact that something wasn't quite right with Temperance Brennan. To Jennifer she was 'messed up' with Angela she was flawed. It wasn't just other women either. By now I had the measure of Miss Brennan's track record with men. She fascinated them and willing partners and dates were never far away. She seemed to like men, or sex at least and men like her. None of them ever stayed around too long so I concluded that commitment phobic could be added to her list of faults.

Then I starting sleeping with Booth.

I knew she knew, and more importantly I knew it bothered her. She had feelings for Seeley, any idiot could see that, any idiot that was except for Booth and Brennan herself. I was well aware that even if the good doctor was aware of her feelings she wouldn't act on it, she couldn't and finally I knew, I had something she could never have, not whilst she and Seeley maintained their stubborn personalities and their admirable work ethics. I encouraged the relationship as much as possible and on occasions flaunted it outright. I knew it was mean and underhanded but I couldn't help it in places. I couldn't have the proper respect of my new colleagues or the support of those subordinate to me so I took what I could and my opinion of Temperance Brennan became cemented. They were right, she was broken, broken and dysfunctional and defective. That opinion all changed one night in late August.

It had been a quiet day in the lab. Zach had already left for his pre-Iraq training and Angela and Hodgins were on what should have been their honeymoon leaving just me and Temperance in the lab. We'd had a case, a young girl beaten to death by her father. As usual Temperance had simply breezed through the case, not a grain of emotion working its way onto the cool face of the doctor. We'd travelled through the day mostly avoiding each other, part revelling, part resenting the calmness of the lab. It was late and as I prepared to leave my opinion of Dr. Temperance Brennan changed forever.

I stepped past her office and was halted by a noise from within. A quick glance at my watch told me it was gone eight. The day had been trying and I wanted nothing more that to take a hot bath, drink a large glass of wine and slip into bed for an early night but my curiosity was piqued and I leant closer to the door. I stifled my gasp of shock as I saw through the crack in the door that Temperance was crying. She was sat on the floor of her office, great wrenching sobs racking her body so much that she shook with the force of them. She looked up and saw me and suddenly a streak of guilt flashed through me for watching her. She stared up at me, mascara smudged, eyes slightly puffy with her usually neat hair sticking to her face. My better judgement told me to leave but I ignored it and entered the office. She seemed surprised and watched as I placed my bag on top of her desk. When I turned back she was crying again but softer this time. I felt uncomfortable. How could I comfort her? I didn't know how to help, I didn't even really like her that much. I knelt on the floor beside her awkwardly but didn't offer any other comfort, she didn't come across as the kind of woman who was overly fond of hugs.

'Are you ok?'

I knew it was a stupid question, of course she wasn't ok.

'She was just so small.'

Her voice was empty and pained and it was only then I really noticed that the floor around her was littered with notes from our case. A picture of four year old Emmiline Saunders took pride of place in front of her.

'She was just so small.'

She repeated herself with even greater conviction before collapsing completely and most surprisingly turning towards me and leaning into me. Gingerly I placed and arm around her and attempted to sooth her with gentle words as I reassessed my opinion of her. The woman in my arms, who gave everyone the outward appearance of being so strong, so cold, so untouchable, was crying like a baby. She seemed to realise that this wasn't her normal behaviour and soon regained her composure. She sniffed before muffling an apology, collecting the papers from the floor and leaving the office.

That was a week ago and as I stand here now watching over the busy lab from the balcony I think about her once more, her and the rest of the team. I've come to a momentous conclusion: we're all damaged. I've decided you have to be to do what we do. The only laughable thing is that as I watch the team down on the lab floor I'm well aware that she's the only one of them that knows it.

Angela, who would be the first to boast her normality, is hiding in a world of numbers and science and things she doesn't understand because beneath her perky exterior is an insecure woman who sees this as her way to contribute to society, her way to atone for sins she hasn't committed.

Jack is determined to be the best in his field, enjoying the eccentricity of being the 'bug and slime guy' and using it as an escape root from the stifling world of wealth and social correctness he was born into.

Zach is twice as eager as any other new doctor because he feels the need to prove himself. The childhood instinct to try to shine within his large family has stayed with him into adulthood.

Booth is one of the worst, the demons from his army days still haunting him as he tries to police his way to heaven, using his job to prove to himself as much as anyone else that he's a good man.

And me…I fight for the best, push myself to be the best I can in an attempt to show that where you are born and you're family status doesn't hold you back, to prove that even a rough kid for the wrong side of the track can come good, can make a difference.

Temperance Brennan.

I exhale as I watch her now and compare the rational, logical woman before me with the weeping mess she'd been in her office a week earlier. Broken? I don't think so. Angela was right after all. She cares too much, the passion for her work, for the cause, pushes her to fight for the things she believes in and to protect herself from outside damage, emotions included. Her compassion and empathy with both victims and relatives puts the rest of us to shame. Now I've realised the truth I smile and resist the urge to place a long distance call to Jennifer. Things will be easier between myself and Temperance now, now I understand her and the next time I hear someone accuse her of being heartless, even if its Angela trying to lead her friend into a more flamboyant social life away from the things she has deemed morbid, it wont matter because I know the truth.

She isn't broken. She simply believes too much in the innocence and good nature of the world and of people in general even though her life experiences and her work everyday tells her otherwise. That's her real fault.

No, Temperance Brennan isn't broken, far from it. In fact Temperance Brennan may just be the best of us all.