Author's note: " If Agent Booth was murdered, wouldn't you do anything in your powers to make sure that you found the killer?" That line from "Yanks In The U.K." is what inspired this story.

References to season 5 story lines.

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters or rights, and DEFINTELY not profitting, ha ha.

"Come on, Bones. Just one drink. Then I'll leave you alone the rest of the weekend, I swear."

Dr. Temperance Brennan looked up from her desk at the face speaking to her. FBI Agent Seeley Booth was nearly bouncing in place with energy. His brown eyes were alight with a mischievous glow. She couldn't hold back a smile from him. "I have a lot of work to do, Booth."

"On Friday night? C'mon! Live a little."

Brennan glanced back down at the case report she was writing. She was almost tempted to take his invitation. Almost. "I've been putting this off for weeks. There's emails I've never answered. Bones that need examining. I do investigate other remains here besides murder victims."

"I know that."

Booth and Brennan had been partners for quite some time. Brennan was a brilliant forensic anthropologist who assisted the FBI, specifically Booth, on cases. Before Booth and the world of crime solving had come into her life Brennan worked at the prestigious Jeffersonian Institute identifying victims from centuries ago.

But the two of them had accomplished more working together than they ever could have alone. It was a partnership and a deep friendship. Sometimes Brennan had a hard time remembering what life was like before. It seemed her memories always surrounded Booth and the strange family of fellow doctors and assistants who provided help with their cases. There had been a time in which she'd been annoyed when Booth had seemed to sweep in out of nowhere with a murder for them to solve. In fact, she'd even complained to her boss. Now she couldn't imagine her life without him.

"Why don't you take Natalie?"

Brennan and Booth shared everything with one another. Which was why she had been shocked to discover a few months ago that Booth had a girlfriend. It was something he'd never mentioned to her. She'd only learned of it by walking in on the two of them kissing in his office at the FBI. Booth had been mortified. For some reason he always kept his love life private from her. Natalie had nearly broken her hand shaking it while Booth had introduced them. The two rarely came into contact. But when they did, Natalie glared icily at Brennan as though she were a bug that needed to be squashed.

Brennan never understood why. She and Booth had never been sexual. Not that Brennan didn't think of him in that way. She did, often. Booth was a strong, handsome man. But they were partners. The idea of being in a relationship with him seemed inappropriate.

Booth made a face.

"Why not? I thought you were experiencing love for her."

"Experiencing? Bones," he laughed, taking a step closer to her desk. "You don't experience love. You feel it. And I do. It's just, you know," he seemed suddenly timid. "We just finished our case. Going for a drink is… you know… our thing."

She sighed. This time her eyes wandered to her computer monitor. Over seventy emails were waiting for her. Damn him for being so convincing.

Sensing he was close to changing her mind, he gave her his puppy eyed charm look. The look he used to get his way.

Brennan had to look away. Her resolve needed to be firm. Friday night or not, tradition or not, she absolutely needed to work. "Booth. I'm sorry."

He shrugged, trying to hide disappointment. "Worth a shot. I'll see you Monday."

She said goodbye, watching him go before turning back to her work. With a deep breath she clicked on the first email awaiting her attention.


For the most part she spent the entire weekend in that same manner. Most people enjoyed the weekends to get away from it all. Not Brennan. Work kept her intelligent mind active. Besides, none of her coworkers ventured into work on their down time. The silence she had was utilized and appreciated. The Jeffersonian lab was all hers.

By Monday she was completely caught up and relaxed. She strode in at the usual appointed hour. She walked into her office expecting to find Booth reclining with his feet kicked up on her couch and their latest case file waiting in his lap. Surprisingly, he wasn't there.

Brennan waited ten minutes. She shrugged off her coat. She turned on her computer. Still there was no sign of Booth. Puzzled, she walked back out onto the main stage of the lab. "Cam?" She called as her boss walked past her. "Has Booth been here this morning?"

Cam was an old friend of Booth's. She shook her head no. "I haven't seen him. Come to think of it," she paused. "He should be here by now, shouldn't he?"

Brennan didn't think her question really warranted an answer. And so she moved on. Back in her office from her phone she tried his cell. No answer. Next she tried his office phone. Voice mail. In desperation she at last tried his home phone number. It rang and rang without even an answering machine to pick up. It was all highly abnormal.

After turning her cell phone off she sat completely still, pondering. Booth was never unreachable. She could count on one hand the number of times he didn't answer his phone in the years they'd been together. Perhaps he and Natalie were playing hooky? A fire of jealousy ignited in her belly. No. Booth wouldn't do that. Would he?

There was just no settling it. No doubt he was perfectly fine. But Brennan needed to see him. Something was telling her to be suspicious. Normally Brennan didn't trust her gut. By default she was a woman of science, of rational thinking. But looking at the situation rationally gave her the same feeling. Booth's behavior wasn't typical for him. She had to find him.

The first place she went was to his apartment. Knocking on the door proved pointless. No one answered. Brennan fished in her purse for the spare keys Booth had given her to his place. Shyly she let herself inside. "Booth?" She called as she did. A part of her was afraid of what she might come across. What if he and Natalie were "having a moment?" Brennan wasn't sure what feelings she'd develop if she'd stumbled into something of that sort.

Luckily neither of them were there. Nothing was out of place, except Booth's house phone had been knocked off the hook. Brennan hung it back up. She poked all around his place until she was satisfied with herself. Next she decided she'd try his office.

There she found the same results. Only it appeared as though Booth had never come in for the day. The door had been closed. The lights were off inside. That didn't stop her from entering. Maybe he had been there and left. While she investigated she tried again fruitlessly to call his cell.

On his desk on top of his day planner she found a silver cd-rom. The disc was unmarked. Brennan picked it up gently. Was this something Booth had been working on? Could it have been a clue as to his where abouts?


Brennan turned around to find Booth's boss, A.D. Hacker, standing in the doorway. "Andrew," she forced a smile she didn't feel. "Hi."

"What are you doing here? Where's Booth?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing." Discreetly she slipped the disc into her purse. "I can't find him. Has he been in today?"

Hacker took a moment to think about it. "No. Can't say that I've seen him."

Brennan did not like the idea that was forming. Either he was with Natalie, or something had happened. As furious as it would make her she hoped for the first option.

"Is he in trouble?" Hacker pressed.

"I don't know." She excused herself. "If you see him, please call me."



Over and over again Brennan phoned his cell on her drive back to the Jeffersonian. Each and every time it rang directly to his voice mail. Frustration caused her to drop her phone into the passenger seat. Where on earth was Booth?

Back in the lab she rushed to her office, saying little to nothing to anyone. Shutting the door behind her, she removed the disc from her purse and popped it into her computer. Brennan could only hope she'd gain some insight while it loaded.

A video flashed onto the screen. It appeared to be taken from a lousy security camera. The sound was distorted. The picture quality was grainy. Booth was tied to a chair. His back was to the camera. He was struggling while a shadow just out of the camera's range paced back and forth.

The sound of a gun shot sent shivers of panic through Brennan. On screen Booth slumped and was still.

Suddenly it was as though Brennan couldn't breathe. No. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be. She replayed the video over and over again. Each time the result was the same.

Booth had been murdered.