(two years but look who came back)

Booth shut the door quietly behind him; set his keys on the table. Brennan didn't glance up from where she was sitting at the table, leafing through some essay. He looked at her for a second, sticking his hand in his pockets, feeling the cold shoulder she was giving him.

She looked up at him as he passed by to get a beer from the fridge, trying hard to make her voice sound indifferent but failing. "Anything new on the case?"

Booth took a swig and inwardly sighed, she didn't have to say "without me?" for it to be clear in her voice. He moved from leaning on the sink to standing across the table in front of her.

"No." Obviously. "Daisy's pretty certain of the cause of death, also found some gunshots. Several shots. We just have to find these guys and nail the bastard. They're not dumb, though. The only lead we have is the blood, and they used it to make their statement, meaning they wanted to be found out. They want to claim responsibility, but not get nailed."

Brennan mulled that over. "But why Hodgins' cousin? Isn't his family in the top one percent? What would they want from him? Money? Ransom?"

Booth shrugged and sat. "The guy's hard to get a background check on. The thing with the top one percent is that they're good at hiding scandals and secrets and shit. Angela's checking out the financial situation to see if their motive is money, but it doesn't make sense. Why the display if the motive is cold blooded cash? It's too personal."

"Perhaps because he is the top one percent. For media attention, their minutes of fame, publicity, the likes."

Booth seemed unconvinced. "I don't know. I don't think so."

"Have you talked to Hodgins?"

Booth rubbed his temples. "The guy's cousin just died, I'll ask him about him soon. For now I'll give him time and space." Booth hesitated. "Besides, the lab's a mess."

He needn't admit it, Brennan could only imagine. Tensions between Angela and Booth for taking Brennan out of it, Hodgins being potentially emotionally compromised, their steadfast rock out of the game replaced with an overly cheerful and annoying intern. Brennan's jaw tightened, it was mostly Booth's fault. She would wait until he realized how desperately they – he – needed her. And then he'd learn. She was the best of the best and he was at a loss without her.

As soon as it appeared the frown was gone, and Brennan rose from her seat. Booth still had his head down when she rounded the table and came up behind him. He was surprised when his seemingly resentful partner wrapped her arms around him.

Brennan lowered her mouth to his ear; her words came out as a purr. "You know what would make you feel good after a long day?"

Feeling a rush of heat and even further mystified, he was too confused by his partner's sudden change in mood to respond. Brennan picked up on his confusion.

"Just because I'm upset with the work side of you doesn't mean I'm upset with some other sides of you." She bit her lip and let her hands wander downwards. "It's hard to be upset when you bring what you being and do what you…do."

Booth's throat suddenly got very dry and he became very quiet. Brennan pulled him up to a standing position and turned him to face her. Knowing very well she had him in a trance, her eyes sparkled with playfulness and seduction. Her hands traced up to his chin, and then one travelled back down and below his belt.

Breathe, Booth. Hard to do with the fast-growing bulge in his pants.

"Besides, now that I'm off the case, I just sit here and think of all the fun ways we could – "

"Stop." About an octave deeper and barely a whisper.

" – in all the fun places – "

He mumbled a few unholy words and then used one hand to grab her face and kiss her and one hand to undo his zipper.

Without Brennan as his partner in the lab, it meant Booth had to get most of his information from the squints in person. He could've just called Cam of course, but felt bad putting her in the middle of the strained situation between the team. Alternately, Sweets would just analyze the tension and make it worse. Especially with Angela – the word hostile did not do justice to the looks she kept giving him.

Such looks were plentiful when he asked about Wesley Hodgins' bank records. He brushed them off, studying the screen in front of him as she pulled them up.

He couldn't hold in his surprise. "Woah. Wait. It's the entire Hodgins family that's rich, right, not just the branch ours came from?" Booth meant Hodgins' father. Angela's lips pursed at the words ours.

"You're not wrong, it was Jack's grandpa who made it big first."

"So then what's with this? This bank account looks like any other John Doe you pull off the street."

"Wesley and his parents weren't close. They fought a lot, grew apart. But his father – Hodgins' adopted brother – was rich, too."

"Kid rebels against parent, parent doesn't give kid money."

"Exactly."

Booth appeared deep in thought. "Must've been one hell of a rebellion. Was Wesley estranged to the entire Hodgins clan?"

Angela offered a non-committal nod and turned away. "Yeah. But then again, so is our Hodgins."

There was a brief pause. Then, "Do you think Hodgins will be alright to talk to me?"

Angela's hostility increased by a mile. "His cousin just died, but I guess he's not as fragile as Brennan, is he?"

Not fair, Booth thought, but just walked away instead.

He checked in on the bone room, where Daisy was carefully going over the bones again.

"Anything new?"

She looked over and gave him a semi-exasperated shrug. "Even if there was, what use would it be of to you? I'm confident enough to say there's nothing I missed. And you have an ID. What else do you need from me?"

"Good point."

Daisy continued to look at him. "Why is Brennan even gone?"

Booth returned the gaze, but didn't respond.

"Okay, fine. Though I don't agree. Why not bring her back in?"

Booth cocked his head, wondering what the intern was getting at. "Same answer to the first question. I don't like the guys we're playing with – this hits too close to home."

Daisy seemed to absorb that. "So what changed?"

"What?"

Daisy turned to face him. "I understand that you two are now a couple, and that you want to protect her. I get that. But just because you're now a… an item, it doesn't mean you didn't care any less about her before. You've always cared for her, always wanted to keep her safe. Being involved with her didn't change that. So what gives?"

Booth didn't reply, but he had listened.

"Anyway, I should get back to the bones. Oh, and I maintain that you should bring her back. I've done most of the dirty work several times over – if anyone's gonna find your break, it'll be her. In the lab or outside of it."

Brennan was going insane.

So far she had cleaned every surface of both apartments twice over, done the groceries, exercised, wrote another chapter of her novel and gone over several student theses. It had only been a couple of days, but she was bored as hell.

And horny as hell.

The first times they'd had sex had been explosive – the resolution of sexual tension and fantasies years in the making. Then it had started to slow. Perhaps slow wasn't the right word – it was still fiery and some of the best sex she'd had in many, many years – but it had evened out. Steadied. The honeymoon phase had come and passed, and they'd grown used to each other.

Recently, though, Brennan found herself aroused all the time. Booth was pretty good at keeping up but he was a man, after all. And during the day he was only around for a quickie at lunch. She could feel herself going nuts.

Normally she'd call Angela to give her friend a break from a tiring case to grab coffee and vent to her about all the things she and Booth did – Angela was not only interested, but inquiringly so – but that wasn't exactly an option at the moment.

She sighed, picking up her laptop for some more research. She had to fix that, and fix it soon.

We've gotten nowhere and found nothing, Booth thought to himself grimly as he walked to Hodgins' lab. Not even any actual ties between the vic and this cult.

He knocked but entered without waiting for a reply. Rarely did he ever find himself in Jack Hodgins' space, but he oddly liked it. Not for himself, maybe, but the office resembled its owner, and Booth appreciated that. And the fact there was always some different species of critters in the cages along the shelf.

Hodgins himself was face down on the workbench. Booth's heart hurt a little, he must've fallen asleep working on something. Unsure what to do, he poked the scientist lightly on the shoulder with his pen.

"Wha-" Hodgins' blue eyes fluttered open, confused. Slowly, he lifted his head up and sat straight.

Booth's heart clenched again, his eyes visibly softened. Hodgins looked, well, almost dead. Bags under his eyes and eyes that were beyond tired.

"Sorry about that," Booth apologized. Hodgins' eyes finally seemed to focus and click.

"Oh man, did I fall asleep? Don't apologize; I should thank you for waking me up. Better you than someone else finding me." Slightly embarrassed.

We all understand, Booth wanted to say, but stayed quiet instead.

"I was hoping I could ask you some questions, Jack. About your cousin. If you're up to it."

Pain flashed momentarily through the asked man's eyes. "Yeah, of course. What do you want to know?"

"Angela said he was alienated from the rest of your family. Is that true?"

Hodgins nodded. "Yeah, as he got older he grew apart from us." He hesitated. "He was always… Different, though."

"Different? How so?"

Hodgins leaned back, thought about it. "He was just one of those kids, you know? The ones you know don't quite fit in. Not a full outcast but never fully belonged anywhere. It stayed with him as he grew."

"You didn't see much of your father's brother's family anyway, right?"

Hodgins nodded again. "Yeah. Just for those few holidays a year."

"Anything you could tell us that would help us link him to the Dead of Stones?"

Something stony flashed in Hodgins' eyes. "Not really, believe me, I wish I did. Just… Wes' different was different from my kind of different. I was the smart bug guy, going to leave behind his rich family to pursue his ambition. Wes… Wasn't. He wasn't like that. That wasn't in his future. He was a troubled different."

The rest of the day didn't yield much. Booth had managed to track down Wes' doctor and was going to interview him the following morning. Automatically, he speed dialed Brennan to ask her to accompany him, then remembered as soon as he'd forgotten and flipped his phone off.

He arrived home not too much later, and opened the door to something he never expected to see.

Brennan was sitting on the couch, absentmindedly watching some very un-thrilling documentary on archeology, equally as absentmindedly playing with herself.

"Gosh, Bones. Couldn't wait until I got home?"

At the sound of his voice she stood up to face him, relief over her face. "Took you long enough." She started unbuttoning her shirt.

Booth was slightly taken aback. "Seriously? Right now? I haven't even been home for a minute yet. I haven't even taken off my shoes yet."

She glared, took off her shirt. "I've been waiting for you all day, stop complaining."

Booth watched her approach, taking off her pants on her way, no panties there anyway. She slid up to him in nothing but a bra. He kissed her first, one hand reaching down to cup her bum.

"You're crazy."

"No, I'm sexually aroused." She formally corrected him, taking his hand and sliding it back and forth between the thighs, smirking as his Adam's apple rose and fell. He let himself be pushed onto the couch, and she started riding him through his pants.

"Oh… God, Bones." He groaned.

"How's the case?" She asked nonchalantly as she pulled off his shirt.

"Are you serious? I'd rather not while you're…" He gestured to her movements. Moaned again. "Doing what you're doing."

"Fine." She said, smirked again. "I guess I'll just have to make it impossible for you to talk."

She kissed him, then her mouth slid downwards, and Booth made an unearthly noise in the back of his throat.

Thrice more times they would do it that night, rather, thrice more times Booth would manage to finish. The woman, on the other hand, she just kept going. It seemed to Booth that he would touch her and she would unfold right then and there under his fingers. It was crazy, and crazy hot.

The next morning Booth headed to Harrisburg, where Dr Masson lived and worked. The drive was nice, but he did miss Brennan by his side.

She lived in a quiet neighbourhood, a grey Honda civic in the driveway. As Booth ran the bell he noticed how clean everything was.

A petite woman with dark skin and short curly hair opened the door. Her eyes were soft and her smile, too.

"Dr Masson? I'm Agent Seeley Booth."

The woman nodded, stepped aside to let him in. He followed her to the kitchen – bright and spotless, predictably.

"Would you like some coffee?" The doctor's voice did not suit her appearance. It was deep and husky, almost a purr.

Booth nodded. "Sure, thank you." It had been a long night. He sat down on a stool as she poured a cup. As she placed it in front of him, he started with the questioning.

"How long have you known Wesley Hodgins for?"

"We go way back. There was a few others before me, but he stuck with me the longest."

Booth eyed her. "You seem to know him quite personally."

Dr Masson shrugged. "We were close. His appointments were frequent."

Booth found that odd but chose to keep that to himself for the moment. "When did you last see him?"

Something clouded the woman's eyes. "Half a year ago. Maybe more."

"Did you not just finish saying you saw each other frequently?"

Dr Masson nodded. "He decided to go off his meds."

"His meds?" That one took Booth by surprise.

The doctor was visibly surprised at his surprise. "You didn't know?"

"Know what?"

"Wesley suffered from brief psychotic disorder."

Booth stood up, put his coffee down. "Brief psychotic disorder?"

The doctor nodded. "Think kind of along the lines of schizophrenia, but only for a month or so at a time. No one told you?"

Booth shook his head. "Not sure anyone knew."

"He did come from a wealthy family. Easy for money to hide those things, even from other family members."

Booth nodded, turned to leave. "Thank you so much for your time, and your coffee."

The woman smiled sadly. "Whatever helps."

Just before Booth opened the door, he looked at her. "One last question. When you said you were close…"

Sadness flooded Dr Masson's eyes. "He fell in love with me."

"And you?"

"I didn't. It was one-sided. I felt bad for him, though. I did care about him, just… Not like that."

Booth nodded. "Alright. I believe you. Nonetheless, I need your schedule from last Thursday. Just to clear you."

Dr Masson nodded. "I understand."

Booth called Brennan as soon as he was back in the car. Got her voicemail. Debated as to whom he should call next, decided on Sweets.

The psychologist listened. "That makes sense, from what you said Hodgins said."

Booth agreed. "Do you think Hodgins knew?"

Sweets thought about it. "No, I don't think he did."

"He should be told."

Sweets agreed. "I'll do it."

"Thanks."

After he hung up with Sweets, he called Cam to fill her in. He could feel Cam's sympathy for Hodgins in her voice, but she agreed that he should be told, and that Sweets should do it.

Just as they clicked off, Booth's cell rang.

"Booth."

"It's me." Brennan sounded excited. And outside.

"Bones? Where are you?"

Brennan brushed him off. "I think I found them."

"Found who?"

"Our guys. The cult. The Dead of Stones."

Booth was in disbelief. "Seriously? How? Where?"

"No time to explain. Meet me at this address."

"Bones!" But the phone line was dead.

Booth pushed the pedal to the floor.

"Wow." Hodgins said as he sat down. "That would… Explain it."

Sweets' heart fell for the guy. "I'm sorry. Not just for that. For everything."

"It's not your fault." Hodgins replied. "If anyone's to blame it's my family, for keeping it a secret. And these bastards for killing him. Do you think…?"

"What?" Sweets prompted.

Pain flashed in Hodgins' eyes. "That he was affiliated with them? Because of this?"

Sweets shrugged. "I'm not sure. Could be. But that's not the case with most."

Hodgins nodded slowly. "I wonder why he went off his meds."

Sweets agreed. "Me too."

Just then Cam hurried in. Both men stood and looked at her clearly agitated face.

"Cam? What is it?"

The pathologist opened her mouth, but too many thoughts seemed to be in her head.

Sweets stepped forward and put a soothing arm on her shoulder. "Breathe, Cam. One word at a time."

Cam nodded, looked at both of them. "First off. I found traces of flunitrazepam."

"Date rape." Hodgins clarified, and then his expression turned to confusion.

"I didn't catch it the first time. Ran it a second time, hoping for something."

"They kidnapped him."

Cam nodded.

Hodgins swore.

"There's more. Brennan thinks she's found our guys – and she's gone there now."

"What? Was Booth with her?"

Cam shook her head. "He just called me, he's on his way there. She went on her own."

"I'll be damned," Hodgins said.

Booth practically jumped out of the van while it was still moving, hand on his gun. He saw Brennan's car, moved towards it. She wasn't there. He continued along down the alleyway, keeping an eye out for her. Or any other living being. Nothing.

"Damn it, Bones," He swore under his breath, knowing she had gone in, or at least attempted to get in, to the old warehouse the address matched. He found a slightly ajar door behind some old trash cans, pushed his way around them and slid into the building.

It was dark, and damp. It took him awhile for his eyes to adjust. He could feel the blood racing through his veins. It smelled like dust, and something sweet. Having nothing else to follow, he decided to trace the scent. It brought him to a back room, a faint glow emanating from the half opened door. Booth's finger rested on the trigger, every muscle in his body tense. If something were to happen to Bones…

He approached the door carefully, quietly. About six feet away he heard something rustle from within. Shit! There's someone in there. It felt like years as he approached, footsteps silent, breathing heavy.

"Arms up where I can see them!" He busted in. His eyes swept the room; it was smaller than he'd anticipated, the light came from candles on the ground. Likewise on the ground was the body of a freshly slain goat, eyes open and listless, blood pooled around it in the shape of a sun.

And kneeling beside that was none other than a Temperance Brennan. Unharmed, absorbed by the scene in front of her.

Booth's heart flipped several times over in his chest as she stared back at him. He lowered his gun.

"Bones, you scared me half to death. Twice."

"That means you'd be fully dead. Clearly, you're still very much alive."

Booth looked over his shoulder. "They could still be around."

Brennan shook her head, rose to a stand. "No. I watched them leave."

Booth gestured to the carcass. "It's definitely our guys."

Brennan nodded. "Call in forensics."

A few days later, Brennan rang the doorbell at the Montenegro-Hodgins residence, a little anxious. She was fixing her hair as Angela swung open the door. Surprise crossed the artist's face, and then her eyes became guarded.

Brennan offered a tight smile. "May I come in?"

Angela dipped her head and stepped aside to let her friend in, crossing her arms. The air was awkward and tense.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry. Truly. For everything."

Angela did not respond, and Brennan continued.

"My being off the case was a bad call. Booth's poor decision."

"You had the final say." The first words Angela had spoken, her voice distrustful.

Brennan nodded. "Yes. I did. I apologize for that. But I took that as an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone."

Angela seemed unconvinced.

"It gave me the chance to prove to Booth he was wrong, and to prove to you how much I value our friendship. I found the guys, after all."

Something in Angela relented a bit. "It's true."

"How are you doing, all of you?"

"It's been rough, to be perfectly honest. But I'm glad it's over."

Brennan nodded. Through a series of old articles in ancient anthropology magazines that no one else in the world kept, a newspaper clipping she had by chance, research, and cyber-stalking, she had managed to find crucial information that piece-by-piece led her to the Dead of Stones. Booth and the FBI had stepped in and done the rest, but it appeared that either Wesley had totally by accident started to call out on the cult enough to threaten them through his brief psychotic episodes or actually attempted at bringing them down. Dr Masson seconded that he hated the stereotypes associated with his mental illness, and was afraid that they would try to lure in kids with similar disorders as his. No one knew why he'd gone off his meds, and they probably never would. Booth suspected he needed to get away from the woman he fell for, and all that reminded him of her.

"Could this be over, too?" Brennan attempted.

"What?"

"Whatever strife we have between us. Whatever elephant in the room. Could we put it in the past, lock it up where it belongs, too?"

Angela seemed to consider the offer for several years. Finally, she nodded. "Yeah, I think we can. Hodgins says we should. You nailed the assholes. It is thanks to you."

Brennan smiled. "Thank you."

After an afternoon tea and playing with Michael Vincent, Brennan headed home to Booth. He was watching the hockey game, smiled at her as she came in.

"I got you something." He gestured to the kitchen table. Curious, Brennan walked over. He watched as she smirked, picked up the surprise and brought it over.

"A vibrator. You do know I own a couple already, right?"

He shrugged mischievously. "I wouldn't actually, not with the sight I walked into a few nights ago."

She sat down beside him. "That was your own fault. You weren't there to do the job."

He kissed her. "Mmmmm. Right. I'll try to be there from now on whenever you need me."

She pulled away from his kiss. "Yes. No more lonely days for me, because you aren't doing what you did again."

Booth looked in her familiar eyes. "I won't. I learned my lesson, with the heart attack you gave me. How were things with Angela?"

Brennan smiled and kissed him again. "Alright, I believe."

He smiled. "That's great."

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Should I try that thing out?" She nodded towards the vibrator.

"I'm insulted. Do I not do a good enough job?"

"I don't know, maybe you should remind me."

He growled, reached for her zipper. "I think I will."