Chapter 1

Dr. Temperance Brennan stood over the hundred year old bones, examining every detail to refine her conclusions as to the identity of the man lying before her. The lab was buzzing with activity, despite the lack of having a current case with the FBI for the last few days. Hodgins and Wendell were holed up in his office, likely planning their next experiment. Cam was at a conference for medical examiners for the next few days, and Angela was painting, with echoes of rock music filtering from her office, clearly enjoying the break from the brutality and morbidity of murder.

It was hard to complain about life at present. She and Booth had the highest success rate of anyone in the bureau. She relished in the lull between cases to go back to identifying those nameless victims she had often been neglecting, relaxing in the silence of her own work. She had a few more hours to discover the identity of this civil war soldier until Booth picked her up for their appointment with Sweets.

Booth. Ever since he revealed his desire to attempt a personal relationship between them, things had not quite been the same. She saw how hard he was trying, but she was ever the more aware of every look, every movement. She had begged him in her refusal of his offer that things go back to normal; that they stay friends, in an effort to save him from the inevitable consequence a relationship with her would have. It wasn't that she didn't want it; it was that she couldn't – for his sake. She was determined to keep things platonic between them, yet somehow keep the bond of trust they had worked five hard years to build. After all, they were the center.

Brennan finished with her findings and made her way towards her office. Just as she began typing up her findings, she heard a knock on her door. Looking up and expecting to see Booth, ready to drag her off for some lunch before their appointment, she was surprised to see her father instead. He looked unexpectedly solemn, for a man who was usually rather laid back about life.

"Max." Temperance said, as she watched her father shuffle his way into her office. She wasn't great at reading people, but his demeanor was so different than normal, it wasn't hard to detect that something was not right. "What are you doing here?" He took a deep breath.

"Hi, Sweetheart. I just wanted to see how you're doing." Max replied.

"I'm doing fine, thank you." She replied. "I just finished my assessment of a civil war soldier and am in the process of identifying him." Max just gave her a half-hearted smile.

Silence permeated her office for several minutes, as Max took a seat on her couch. Temperance decided to break the silence.

"While I have been assured by many people that I lack social skills, I am detecting that something is on your mind, and you have undoubtedly come here with some purpose." Max just sighed.

"You're right. There is something we need to talk about. It's important." Temperance waited, as her father stood up. He continued. "Come with me. Let's walk to the diner. I could use a coffee right about now." Temperance just nodded, and reached for her coat and purse. Max hesitated for a second at her office door.

"Is Booth coming by soon?" Temperance looked at him quizzically.

"Yes. He will be by in about an hour to pick me up for an appointment with our psychologist." Max just nodded.

"Good. We can talk to him then." Temperance was baffled. Nothing her father was saying was making much sense. Max must have picked up on her confusion.

"I know I'm not making much sense right now." Temperance nodded. "I'll explain everything as we go." Max replied, with the same worried look on his face. He made his way out of her office, towards the front doors of the lab, waiting for his daughter as she peeked into Angela's office to let her know she was going to lunch with her father and would be back shortly. The two left, each occupied with their own thoughts, making their way out into the warm May sun.

Booth sat at his desk, staring at his clock. He had nothing but paperwork stacked on his desk. There had been no new cases in several days, and thus he had not seen her. She was expecting him in about 45 minutes, but he didn't want to wait that long.

He had noticed the strain his little "declaration" had had on their relationship. It seemed that having released the words he had longed to say for so long, he was ever more aware of her. Although things were going well with Catherine, it wasn't the same. He knew his gut feelings, and while he liked the marine biologist, he knew that it was a relationship that wouldn't last.

For her sake, however, he would continue the façade. He would continue to try and act as though everything was normal, try to move on from her, although deep down inside, he knew it wasn't that simple.

He knew it was still early, but Booth decided to head towards the Jeffersonian anyways. Perhaps he could convince Bones to coffee and pie at the diner. Booth hopped into his SUV and drove the short ride to the lab.

He entered the lab, expecting to see her up on the platform, which was strangely empty. Instead, Booth made his way towards her office, pausing as he noticed it was dark. He turned when he heard his name being called, seeing the beautiful artist make her way towards him.

"She's not here." Angela explained. "Max was by earlier and asked if she wanted to walk to the diner with him." Booth sighed. Max had beaten him to it.

"That's alright." Booth replied to Angela. "I'll just wait here until she gets back, so we can head to our appointment with Sweets." Angela just smiled and nodded.

"She said she won't be too long." Angela turned, and walked away to resume her painting, as Booth made his way into Bones' office. He lay back on her couch, putting his feet up on the armrest, closing his eyes and deciding to enjoy a few moments of solitude. He groaned as a few minutes later, his phone went off. Contemplating ignoring it, his sense of duty overtook his desire to nap, and he grabbed the vibrating black object from the side table.

"Booth." He answered, his voice not masking his slight annoyance. He had no idea what information he was about to receive.