The Head in the Hallow (T for a little smut, mystery, romance, etc.) Story Completed

This is a revised version of an earlier story of mine.

The Head in the Hallow
Part I

"This place sucks," Derek grumbled as he and his two buddies, Brandon and Trevor, hiked across a remote field.

"Tell me about it," Brandon replied. He was a tall boy with dark hair and freckles. "There's never anything to do around here."

Trevor, a taller fair-haired boy with a goofy smile took the lead. "We should shoot something."

Derek eyed Trevor with his penetrating green eyes. "You got the combination to your dad's cabinet?"

Trevor shrugged. "No."

"Then why the heck did you suggest that?"

Trevor ignored him as they walked over a little hill. He spotted a large brick object at the top. A decaying piece of wood covered the top. It looked like it had been there for ages.

Being a boy and with no particular plan in mind, Trevor began to lift the wood from the top of the well. "Help me, man." Derek grabbed the other end. Brandon began to help the guys. Together, the wood budged and finally fell to the side.

Derek leaned over it. "Woah. That thing's wicked deep."

Brandon grabbed a rock almost the size of his head. He walked over and tossed it in. After what seemed like longer than it should have taken, the stone sploonked into the water, which splashed around it. Some splashes reached the top, dampening the bangs of some of the boys.

"Dang. That's gotta be like fifty feet deep." Trevor guessed.

Brandon shook his head. "Nah. Twenty, Trev. Can't be deeper."

With that, Derek grabbed another stone and held it over his head. The other boys waited to see how long it would take to hit the water. The stone was released and fell into the well. After a few seconds, the water sploonked again. Then something dark bobbed to the surface.

"What's that?" Trev asked.

The object turned eerily to one side, revealing rotting flesh and empty eye sockets.

The boys' eyes grew wide. All three lept to their feet, screaming like they were ten years younger. They ran through the field, leaping over tufts of grass, stones, and puddles.

Part II

Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan trudged through high grass in a remote field. They were stepping over clumps of grass and trying not to trip over the uneven ground. They were quickly approaching a tree line and following behind a local police officer.

"A bunch of kids were throwing stones and such in an old abandoned well yesterday. Apparently they knocked something loose because BOY did they get a surprise!"

"An arm?" Booth asked.

"A head. Bobbed to the top. Scared the piss out of them. Ran screaming to their mamas." The officer chuckled at the thought of preteen boys screaming through the fields.

"An abandoned well?" Booth asked.

"Yup. Hasn't been touched in years. There was an old homestead on this property once upon a time." They reached a little stream and the officer hopped over it. Booth jumped over and lent his hand to Bones. She rested her hand in his and hopped over the brook.

"Creepy!" Booth laughed.

"What? Why does death always have to be creepy, Booth?" Bones asked.

"I'm just saying-- Ever hear of The Ring?" The officer laughed and nodded, but Bones was silent in thought for a moment.

"Oh yeah... that's a movie, right?"

Booth smiled. "Yeah! I can't believe you knew that!"

"And it's a book, too."

"What? No, no book. What book?"

"I'm fairly certain that it was a book originally, Booth."

"And I'm fairly certain that it was not."

"You two married?" The officer laughed as he overheard the argument. "My wife and I have been together for six years this fall. You two must be newlyweds. The trick is to let arguments roll off your backs. Never go to bed angry."

"We're just partners, Officer Ramirez." Bones replied.

"Coulda fooled me."

"We'll be partners five years next week." Booth said. Brennan looked at him with a bit of surprise on her face. "Wait, what about the book, Bones?"

"The Ring." The officer corrected.

"No. Bones is... he calls me Bones. It's... a term of endearment."

"A nickname." Booth cut in as he saw the officer's smirk. "Not... not that kind of nickname. It's because she's works with bones."

"The Ring.... the little elves run around, trying to protect a ring with magical powers, then in the end, they throw it into a lake of burning fire. The Ring." Bones explained.

"That's The Lord of the Rings, Bones. Not The Ring. The ring is a horror movie. Not... not..." Booth sighed.

"Not a book."

"Yeah, Bones. Not a book."

"Oh."

"Listen, Bones. Next Saturday and every Saturday from here on out we're having a movie night until you catch up."

"I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Booth, I'm not going to devote an entire night a week to slovenly movie watching and being a potato on a couch. I've got better things to do. Reading, writing, paperwork--"

"Couch potato, Bones. It's a couch potato. How about a movie a month?"

"Fine. But I choose."

"That defeats the purpose. I choose."

"Then once every two months." Bones replied as they approached the well. She took out her flashlight and turned it on.

"How about once a month, but we alternate? You take one month, I take the other."

Bones leaned over the old well. Her light illuminated a decomposing skull. It still had hair that was matted to the flesh.

"Can you tell anything from here?" Booth asked Bones.

"Too far down. Definitely human, though. Lots of debris..."

"So... maybe we need a bucket? A shovel or a scoop or something?" The officer asked.

Bones stood up and breathed in as she gathered her thoughts. "A water pump... Some rope... tools... I'm going to have to be lowered in there, gather the remains. I can't trust anybody to my remains."

"Dr. Brennan, I can't let you do that." The officer looked at the woman who stood in front of him... thin, pretty, intelligent... "It'd be a cryin' shame for a pretty little thing like you to fall to your death in that thing."

"That's statistically improbable." Brennan laughed at him. Wasn't that obvious?

"I have some rope in my truck... I could just--"

"Over my dead body." Brennan remarked. Then she laughed at herself. "It's a--It's a joke. Get it, Booth?"

Booth smiled with raised eyebrows. "I get it, Bones."

The hallow was deep, yet wide enough for Brennan to rest her back on the stone surface on one side of the shaft and touch the other side with her flat feet. Slowly she was lowered until her feet touched the muddy bottom and sunk in almost a foot and a half.

The plan was for Temperance to gather as many remains as she could see, put them into evidence bags, and then have them raised to the surface by way of a hook and cable system. To her delight, most of the body was still decomposing, so many of the bones were attached by cartilage and rotting flesh.

Bones plunged her hand into the muck and searched around for body parts she had missed. They were missing a right femur, tibia, fibula, and all of the carpals, metacarpals, and phalanges of the right foot. Her hand caught something hard and she pulled it out of the gunk. She brushed the mud off gently and raised it into the light.

"Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"Raise me to the surface."

When she reached the top, she blinked hard so her eyes would adjust to the brightness. Then she held out the femur bone. It was much smaller than one might expect.

"Hand me some water." Booth handed her the water bottle from his hand. She grabbed it with a muddy glove.

"Bones! That was mine." He wined.

She poured it over the bone. "Look at this." She held the bone up to Booth.

"What? It's a bone."

"It's a femur bone."

"It's broken."

"Look at the striations on the end. It's been cut."

Booth scrunched his face, picturing a serial killer sawing off the leg of the victim. "That's... nasty."

"So some sicko lopped her leg off?" The officer asked.

"I don't like to jump to conclusions like that. It isn't scientific." Bones replied. "It could have also been medical amputation."

"Which could lead to identification." Booth added.

"Well... lower me down. I've got to get some of this mud pumped out of the bottom. I can't see a thing. And we're still missing several bones." Bones lowered herself slowly back into the well. Booth watched over her.

The officer watched, too, then said, "She ain't--"

"Squeamish? I know. And no, she's not."

It seemed that 'She ain't squeamish, is she?' was always the phrase of the day when it came to Bones plunging head-first into rotting corpses. Was she squeamish? Absolutely not.

___________________________

I'll be editing and bringing back new chapters as I can.

Part III

After three and a half hours, Brennan sat on the SUV's running board. Crime scene investigators were processing the rest of the scene and the skeleton was on its way to the Jeffersonian. She sipped a bottle of water with one mud-caked hand. A cool autumn wind drifted her way, making her shiver.

Booth rounded the corner and sat beside her on the running board. "Cold?"

She made a gesture that said, 'Yes, but I don't want you to have to do anything about it.'

Booth ignored the insinuation, although he well knew what she wanted him to not do. He removed his FBI jacket and put it over her shoulders. They shared a look, then Brennan's eyes went back to the ground.

"Wanna get something to eat?" He asked softly, blinking as he talked. Night had fallen and they were both exhausted.

"All I want is a hot shower. Food can come later, if at all."

He bumped his shoulder against hers. "You gotta eat, Bones."

She lifted a muddy hand up and spread her fingers so he could see. "Not with these hands."

"So, I'll take you home. Feed you."

She lifted a hand and rubbed her forehead with a muddy finger, spreading the dirt over her left eyebrow. "You don't even know what's in my refrigerator."

"I could take you to my place?"

She looked up, half surprised.

"Or I could just figure it out at your place. Order in, maybe."

"That sounds fine, I suppose."

"Which is it?"

"Either. Usually on days like this I just take a long hot bath and fall into bed."

"Hungry?" Booth raised a brow.

"Hungry."

"Well, I gotta fix that." He stood and offered a hand to her. She stood and he led her to the other side of the SUV, setting her inside. He reached over and pulled the seat belt around her.

"Booth--"

"Just let me help."

She did.

Thirty minutes later, he pulled up in front of Brennan's apartment. He glanced over at her. She had fallen asleep with his jacket draped around her shoulders. A tendril of hair had fallen over her left eye. He reached out and tucked it behind her ear. She stirred and looked up at him. "I fell asleep."

He only smiled in reply.

Inside, Brennan went straight for the bathroom where she began to draw a hot bath. She poured in Chamomile and Jasmine bath salts and bubbles, then took off her clothes, careful to lay the FBI jacket on the counter. Then she slid into the bath. The soil from beneath her fingernails and every other possible crease or crevice began to dissolve and turn the bathwater a murky tan color. After a few more minutes, she had drifted off to sleep, letting the steamy water warm every chilled part of her body.

In the kitchen, Booth checked the cabinets where he found a box of spaghetti pasta and a half full box of saltines. In another cabinet, several different spices. In the refrigerator he found a half gallon of milk and some seriously questionable green onions that were no longer green. The freezer was less forgiving than its predecessors, bearing only an ice pack and an opened, half-used bag of peas with a rubber band around it.

"Thai it is," Booth whispered to himself under his breath.

After the delivery was received, Booth walked to the bathroom door and knocked softly. He waited. Knocked again. Still no response. He knocked harder and more ardently. "Bones? Bones?" He knocked again and jiggled the handle. "Bones! Temperance!?"

The door was as solid as ever and the woman within just as silent.

"Bones!" He jiggled, knocked, banged.

Booth tightened his lips and cursed. He backed up several feet, then rammed his shoulder into the door. It splintered, but didn't break.

Brennan woke up from her deep slumber at the crash of her bathroom door. The water sloshed around in the tub, spilling over. She looked up just in time for Booth to back up once again. She jumped out of the tub, stepping onto the tile. "Booth!"

He saw her too late, just as his shoulder crashed into the door, splitting it from its hinge. The door slapped open, smacking against the wall. the other one-eighth of the door stuck steadfastly to the door jamb. Booth froze at the sight of his partner, naked and wet from head to toe, standing in front of him.

She froze.

Booth froze. He may have also let his eyes wander down her milky white torso. Once. No, twice.

He was the first to come to his senses, grabbing the FBI jacket from the counter top and handing it to her. She grabbed it angrily from him and pressed it against her body. "What the heck, Booth?"

"You didn't answer me. I knocked. Lots of times. I knocked and I yelled. I thought something--might have happened....to you."

She tipped her head to the side. "Like what? Someone might have come through the window--" she looked over disbelievingly at the 10 by 15 window above the bath, "And attacked me?"

"I don't know." It sounded more ridiculous now when it was said aloud.

"You've been in my bathroom plenty of times, Booth."

"Yeah. Well... dinner's here, so--I, uh..." He glanced over his partner's body once again, draped in his jacket.

"Booth. I'm up here." She raised a brow.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah... I'll fix this."

"You don't--"

"Bones. I'm here to help. Not break down your door."

They stood with an anxious silence between them. Booth couldn't bring his feet to move. Brennan couldn't bring him from whatever reverie he was stuck in with subtle gestures and glances. Finally, she tossed the jacket at his face. She turned and grabbed her robe. Booth caught the tail end of the robe sliding up her shoulders. She tied it around her waist and walked past him to the kitchen.

Part IV

At around eleven, Booth stood and helped Brennan rinse the silverware and clean up the table. They stood at the sink, side by side. His breath was taken away at how every moment seemed to slow down tenfold when they stood so near to one another. Some times he wondered if she felt it, too. Those moments. Did she feel them? When it seemed like the air got so thick that she could hardly breathe? Did her knees ever get weak? Did it ever seem that if she didn't touch her lips with his that her heart might stop beating altogether?

Their hands met in the sink on a single fork. She quickly moved her hand away and grabbed a bowl from that morning. She scrubbed off little bits of corn flakes with a thumb nail.

It was getting harder and harder for him to hide it. He couldn't even hide it from himself anymore. A million things screamed out to him when he was around her. The first and loudest voice said that he should just go for it. But the more logical voice, the voice that he had become quite acquainted with over the past five years, kept him in order. It said, she is completely wrong for him. Completely opposite. Her views on the world were completely off the wall. Their relationship, if they chose to have one, would never work out. He believed in God. She often openly mocked Him. That was the big one in a lot of ways. That one and Love. He believed in love. She said she did not. How could you fall in love with a woman who would never share her affection for you? And yet... he had. And it was frightening. More frightening than he had ever imagined.

Every moment like this. Where she stood beside him in nothing but her old satin robe, scrubbing at dried on cereal, where they shared no words between them, it chiseled at the mortar between the bricks in the wall he had built up. He had his walls, but she had her own. It was a fact, he reminded himself. A fact that was too true.

If only... If only he could stop loving her so much. Life would be easier. Work would be easier. Everything would be...

She shut off the water and smiled up at him, interrupting the thought from being completed.

"Thank you for helping me with the dishes."

"Yeah," he croaked out.

Her smile grew wider, as if she were going to laugh at his cracking voice. He smiled back.

The seconds they smiled at one another grew into a minute, two minutes.

Her smile grew more serious as the intensity of their stare deepened.

Finally, Booth made the second voice in his head scream louder so that the first voice would hear: She is my partner! It wouldn't work out! It would ruin our partnership!

Apparently, Brennan wasn't listening to her voice. There was only one thing that had kept HER from making any sort of move on Booth in the past year. And that was the fact that he never seemed interested in a romantic relationship. Did she feel it? The heat between them when they stood close to each other? That smoldering look in his eyes when his eyes glanced over her body a hundred times a day? Yes. She felt it. And often times, she wondered if Booth ever felt it. Over the past five years she had done some wall building herself. Love did exist in her mind. She had felt it with Sully. And it hurt terribly to see him sail away without a second thought. If she didn't believe in love, then nobody could ever take that part of her heart away from her. Period. End of discussion. Men and family in general had taken pieces from her over the years. Love would never be one of those things she would give away. Therefore, they could never sail off into the sunset with a piece of it. Nobody could make Temperance Brennan feel incomplete any more.

But there was one man who made her feel more complete whenever he was near her. The year before, cases had been thrown in their faces, one after the other, making them face the issues of love in their lives. Soul Mates, Meeting in the Middle, Loving People Because They Love You, etc., etc., etc. And in that year, the fourth year of their partnership, she saw something new in Booth.

He leaned closer instinctually, almost against his will, the gap between their lips closed. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. He could feel it, too.

Finally, she tipped her chin upward. His breath caught in his throat.

She does feel it.

He swallowed and let one hand pull her closer to his body. He held her for several seconds. The intensity of their looks grew. It smoldered. Emotions rolled. Kiss? Don't kiss? Consequences? Screw the consequences!

He brushed his lips with hers softly. The millimeters grew between their lips. He looked questioningly into her eyes.

"What are you thinking?" Booth murmured.

"I'm thinking we should do that again," she whispered.

"That's what I was thinking, too."

Their lips met again. This time, for a bit longer than the last.

They parted slowly.

Again, their lips met, this time they parted when they touched. He drew her close with one hand behind her head. His fingers threaded through her hair.

They parted. Their hearts beat wildly in their ears.

"What are we doing?" He muttered.

"I don't know," she replied, her voice uncharacteristically unsure and shaky. "Can we do it again?"

He nodded and pulled her close again. Their lips met. She invaded his mouth with her tongue, sliding it along his. His head whirled.

He pulled away.

"What?" She breathed hard.

"I--I don't know. It's just--"

"You're worried?"

"Yeah."

"Me, too."

"I mean, what if this doesn't work out?"

"It could mess up everything."

"I don't want to lose you, Bones. You mean too much to me."

She was silent for several seconds. One second, two, three passed. Four, five. Then she spoke. Her face was completely serious. "You can never lose me, Booth."

He considered it a second, then pressed her against the counter with his hips. Another second passed where both did inaudible mental arguing. Then he leaned close and kissed her cheek tenderly. Then he trailed the kisses to her earlobe. The world moved and they both felt dizzy. Adrenaline and passion sped their heartbeats up. The kisses trailed down her neck. He slid his hand under her robe, pulling gently enough to bare her shoulder. Each new kiss was a struggle between good and evil. What was right and wrong, or perceived to be. His lips against her bare skin made her gasp for air. At some point one or both of them would decide that they had crossed whatever line had been drawn. The line of kissing on the lips was moved, the line moved south to the neck, farther south to the shoulder.

"Booth."

"Hmm?" He muttered as he kissed back north toward her lips.

"We shouldn't--do this, right?"

"We shouldn't." He kissed her lips, their tongues tangled. The cabinets behind Brennan's hips rattled.

"That's what I thought." She wrapped her legs around his hips. The protrusion in his pants pressed against her.

While Booth ignored the guy in the white sheet and coat-hanger wings who kept yelling at him, he let his lips stray to uncharted territory. He trailed his tongue between her breasts and up toward her mouth.

Brennan's cell phone began to ring.

He ignored it. So did she.

It rang again.

Finally, they both came back to their senses at the same time when Booth's phone began to buzz in his back pocket.

"I should get that," he whispered, out of breath. "Booth here."

"Booth? You sound out of breath," Cam replied.

Booth mouthed "Cam" at Brennan. "Yeah, I--uh, just ran up the stairs."

"Huh. Sounded more like you were gettin' some." Booth paled. "Just kidding. I tried calling Dr. Brennan's phone, but she didn't pick up. I just received a call from the head honcho and it seems a leg has turned up. Thought you and Brennan might want to check that out. I'm already here." Cam held up her flashlight and shined it at a couple of skeletonized toes sticking up from beneath dirt. The dirt had been carefully brushed away, showing that it was only a lone leg. "Seems to have been amputated above the knee. Seems to fit our vic. Freedom Park. How long should it take you?"

Brennan was quickly growing aware of the situation. Hormones had really gotten the best of her, apparently. A warm blush crept onto her cheek. Booth still had her pinned up against the counter with one hand on her left butt cheek and her robe half-open. Her body was still pressed against his.

"Ten, fifteen minutes."

"I'm seeing a lot of bones here. Might wanna pick up Dr. Brennan on your way. Do you know where to find her?"

Booth glanced at Brennan. "Yup."

"Good. Just tell her that I'll leave everything for her. I won't touch her remains. Goodness knows how much of a hard ass she can be."

Booth grinned, knowing where his right hand was. "Yeah, she can be."

Cam hung up.

"They found a leg in Freedom Park."

"Cam needs me?"

"Yeah."

Awkward silence.

Brennan lowered her legs to the floor, then walked off toward the bedroom. Booth watched as she walked away. He forced his heart to return to a normal pace.

How evil can you be?? Stop in the middle... Mama, oh mama...

I hope you will continue soon, because I am so loving your stories...

I'll go get the next chappie. Just for you.

yey! You know i love your stories..

Part V

Brennan shined the flashlight on the leg. "Forensics already go over the scene?" she asked as she squinted at the leg.

"Yes, Dr. Brennan," Cam replied as she stood next to Booth several feet away.

"Let's just bag it then. I'll look at it in the morning."

"Male? Female?" Booth asked.

"I can't tell for sure, but I'd say that from the painted toenails," she poked at a toe. "That it's female. Red nail polish. But that's not definitive, of course. Age and race are impossible to tell without further analysis." She stood and took off her blue gloves. "I'll examine it farther in the morning."

Cam, Booth, and Brennan walked toward the vehicle. "I tried to call you on your cell. I hope that Booth found you OK."

Brennan and Booth met eyes for a second. Cam noticed the second. Her eyes gaped.

"Uh... yeah, he found me just fine."

Cam tried her hardest not to look amused. "Oh... Kay. I'll see you two tomorrow then." She took two steps.

"Uh, Cam!" Brennan jogged up to her. "I was hoping you could give me a ride. My place is on the way, anyway."

Booth tried to act cool. Cam knew him better than that. An unspoken communication ran between them.

Are you OK with this, Booth?

I don't know what you're talking about, Cam. *Shrug*

Oh, give me a break. I wasn't born last year, Seeley. *Eye Roll*

Booth turned on his heel and walked toward his SUV. The two women watched as he hopped in and backed out of the parking space.

"Come along. I'm this way," Cam picked up her case and they walked toward the little red sports car.

Hehee... Thank you...
I guess i have to wait till tomorrow for more? Heheee...

Part VI

The next morning, Brennan walked stealthily into the Jeffersonian. Angela looked up from her work and watched her friend with a bemused expression on her face. When Brennan was sure that the coast was clear, she ran as lightly as one can do in high heeled boots from the entrance to the safety of her office and shut the door behind her.

Hodgins walked over to Angela, his eyes also on Brennan's door. He sat a silver tray containing a water-stained library card in front of her. The clink made Angela jump and look up at Hodgins.

"What do you think that was all about?" Hodgins asked.

"Beats me."

They watched through the glass windows as Brennan sat down at her desk. Then she jumped up and pulled the shades on every window and the door. The door then opened and Brennan peeked out.

"If you see Booth, tell him I'm not here. That I'm out to breakfast or something. Just tell him to call my cell. NO! Don't tell him to call my cell. Tell him I'm sick... NO! Not sick. Tell him I'm at the gynecologist. Tell him they make me turn off my cell phone there. That I'll just give him a call later."

The door closed.

Hodgins and Angela exchanged looks. Cam had also been looking on. She walked up to Angela and Hodgins who stared at the office door.

"Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?" Angela mused.

"Worse than that," Cam muttered.

Angela and Hodgins looked up at her. "What do you mean by that?"

Cam looked around, then pulled up a chair, sitting beside Angela.

"Far be it from me to be the spreader of gossip, but last night when they came to the park for the leg, Brennan asked me to drop her off."

"Oh!" Angela's eyes widened.

"What? What 'Oh'?" Hodgins asked.

Angela smirked. "Bren and Booth are fighting."

Cam looked around. "Worse."

"Worse?' Angela asked.

"Worse! I called Dr. Brennan's phone first. No reply. Then I called Booth's. He picks up, sounds out of breath--" Angela's eyes grew wider, if that was at all possible, at Cam's tale. "They show up together, they leave separately. What does that tell you?"

Angela racked her brain. "A fight?"

Cam shook her head. "Doesn't fit. Why sound out of breath one second and angry the next? Besides, they didn't seem angry at each other. Booth seemed surprised at Brennan's reaction, although he tried to hide it... poorly."

Angela slung an arm over the shoulder of her seat just as the NotZack of the day, Mr. Nigel-Murray found his way up to the podium. She grinned at Hodgins. "You're the conspiracy theorist, Jack. What's your take?"

"I theorize about secret societies, not Brennan and Booth's sex lives. I'm not some THING that you can utilize whenever you need to know the latest Cosmo gossip."

Angela rolled her eyes. "Just tell me what you're thinking already."

Hodgins looked around and took the back of a chair, rolling it between his legs so he was sitting backwards at it. "They got too close. Hot and heavy. They wanted to do the deed, they would've done the deed, had Cam not called. Now they're avoiding each other until the fire burns over. Backdraft, baby." He raised a brow for emphasis.

"Backdraft received three Academy Award Nominations and two nominations at the First Annual MTV Movie Awards, although it won neither commendation," Vincent noted. He received three scornful looks in return. "Quite right. I shall be working on the femur of our victim, then." He walked away.

They all waited until he was out of earshot before continuing.

"I knew this was going to happen," Angela muttered.

"What?" Cam asked.

"Jeez, they've been dancing around each other since they first became partners. Even I barked up that tree a time or two."

Cam looked with an amused look at Angela. "Did you?"

"Honey, who hasn't?"

Hodgins grinned and stood up. "Girl talk time. I'm outta here." He walked away whistling, trying not to hear Angela's comments about Booth.

"Couldn't agree more," Cam replied. She smiled thoughtfully, then the smile disappeared.

"Why did you and Booth break up?"

Cam hitched one cheek in a half-smile. A dimple dotted her left cheek in response. "After Epps tried to kill me, Booth said he didn't want me to be on the receiving end of any more death threats."

"Honorable."

"Yeah, but that wasn't the real reason."

Angela raised her eyebrow again.

"He loves Dr. Brennan." She nodded at her office. "Even when we were together, I knew it."

Angela looked concerned and looked Cam over. "And you're OK with you guys breaking it off?"

She shrugged. "Doesn't matter what I want. When you find your soul mate, you thank God that you found them and you don't give up until they're yours. I stepped away because I knew that they were good together. If she's his soul mate, then he should search for her, right?"

Angela didn't reply. She just looked concernedly at Cam. After a few seconds, Cam rose and sighed. "We should get back to work. Maybe you should go talk to Brennan?"

Angela stood up and walked toward Brennan's office.

Last one for tonight.

Hahaa..How perfectly captured Cam I loved it

And i knew... Last for tonight. I am looking forward for tomorrow...
*does tha happy dance*

I'm glad you loved it!

I love it too!
Can't wait for more!

oh more more!