A winding dirt road, a ditch. Corn silk white wheat waving in the breeze, looking like waves on the ocean, a cloudless sunny sky, pale blue.

There is no sound.


A glance up, someone is walking along the road, he glances down, he looks through her. She's invisible. Not a nice looking man. Cold eyes. Cold jaw. Talon like hands.

He goes down a driveway, disappearing into the tall evergreens, she doesn't know what kind they are, Hodgins would know.

Scrambling up the steep ditch, creeping down the driveway, why is she following him?

He glances back furtively and ducks into a shed with a stovepipe.

She sneaks closer, then gasps.

She is inside. She cannot move. She is hanging on a meat hook, watching through lifeless eyes, unable to turn her head. Her peripheral vision shows there are two other women there, beside her, hanging, meat hooks shoved through their skulls.

They are naked


The man turns and smiles at her, opens the door of the handmade wood stove, at least five feet long, two and a half feet wide. The fire within pops.

What does he need such a big heater for? The shed can't be more than a hundred square feet.

He walks over, touches her face gently, says something, but there is still no sound. The look in his eyes….. He's crazy, taking revenge.

Revenge for what?

She's screaming, but nobody hears. She's dead.

He pulls her off the hook and stuffs her legs into the burner, shoving the rest of her into the hot flames.

The last thing she sees…. The door closing, shutting her in, she can't move, she can't scream.

Brennan sat up in bed, shaking, still seeing the man from her dream bending over her, his hands reaching for her throat.. Such talon like hands…

She reaches for the bedside light, and it floods the room. She is alone. It was a dream, a nightmare. Terror quakes through her, and she pulls her gun from the beside table, aiming it at the bedroom door.

She's never felt so scared.

Her mind chides her for being irrational, there is nobody but her in the house.

But the images from her dream, so real, so lifelike. If she ever saw that road, that man… She'd recognize it instantly.

Those hands.

Her closet door is open. Did she leave it like that?

The floor creaks and she stifles a scream.

She needs to calm down.

A few deep breaths, a glance at the clock.

Four AM.

In three hours Booth will be here.

Only three more hours.

Booth opened the door and walked into Brennan's apartment, putting her coffee on the kitchen table. He looked around, frowning. Usually she was awake by now.

He walked down the hall, he was a little early, maybe she was in the shower. "Bones?"

The bathroom door was open, he flicked the light on, then off again, it hadn't been used yet.


"I'm in here Booth, could you come here please?"

He paused for a second, his hand on her bedroom doorknob, his mind racing. He pushed open the door, and peeked inside.

She was sitting bolt upright in bed, her gun on her knees, pointed towards the door.

"Bones? Is that loaded?"

She looked down, seemingly surprised to see she was holding her gun. "Yes. It is. I'll put it away." She reached over and placed in the drawer of her bedside table.

Booth stared at her. She was wearing some kind of silky negligee, hot pink and black lace, but he wasn't getting a 'come hither' vibe from her. In fact, she seemed terrified.

"Are you ok?"

She hugged her knees. "Yes, I had a terrible R.E.M. experience, and I admit I am reacting extremely irrationally, but my body is refusing to accept my brain's assurance that there is nobody under the bed. Or in the closet." She cast a worried glance at the half opened closet door. "Would you mind… What I mean to say is, can you check please?"

Booth shrugged and walked over to the closet throwing it open. "Nothing in here but clothes Bones." He pushed the clothes along the rail, making sure. "And some very nice shoes."

Brennan looked relieved. "And…… under the bed?"

He dropped to his knees and looked under the bed. "A dust bunny or two, and a pair of VERY sexy heels." He sat up, holding one up. "You don't wear these to work!"

"The height of the heel is not conducive to standing on the platform all day, but yes, they are quite alluring." She pursed her lips. "Actually I was looking for those, thank you."

He sat on the side of her bed, turning the shoe over in his hands. "So are you going to tell me about your nightmare?"

She shivered. "No, that is…. No."

He nodded, still looking at the shoe. "Ok, maybe later. Are you gonna get out of bed now?"

She moved hesitantly. "Yes. Could you… My suitcase is in the hall closet, could you go get it please? Throw some apparel in it for me? I think I'll stay at the lab tonight."

"You can stay at my place if you want. Parker's room is free." He glanced at her pale face.

She gave him a tight smile and climbed out of the bed, heading for the bathroom. "I'll consider it, thank you."

The bathroom door closed and locked behind her, and he went and grabbed her suitcase, laying it open on the bed.

Must have been some nightmare.

He stared at the clothes in the closet and felt a sudden surge of mischief run through him. If he was going to pack her clothes, he might as well pack his favourites….

He pulled down a few skirts, some slacks, his favourite blouses., throwing in the pair of heels he'd found under the bed, before walking around to the dresser. The top door was full of socks and pantyhose, he threw a few pairs of each in. The next was bras.

He took a deep breath and grabbed a handful, throwing them into the suitcase.

The next drawer was underwear, and used the same tactic, just grabbing a handful. A pair fell to the floor and he picked it up carefully, using only his fingertips.

Whoa….That was definitely going in the suitcase.

He opened the last drawer and stared in surprise. So THAT was where his favourite sweatshirt went. He pulled it out, putting it in the suitcase too.

He zipped it up and smiled, carrying it through to the kitchen.

Not a bad start to the day.

Who knew she had such sexy underwear?

Booth crossed his arms and leaned over the railing, looking down on the forensics platform below. It was almost six o-clock, and Brennan had come up with excuses for him to stick around all day.

Whatever she'd dreamed about really had her freaked out.

Every time the guide brought a tour through, she'd disappeared into her office and locked the door behind her.

She looked up and saw him watching her, and felt minutely calmer. He'd worked from her office today, catching up on paperwork. He'd made motions to go to his own office a few times, but she'd managed to keep him there by requesting his help in translating old FBI transcripts relating to her current Limbo case. It was a poor excuse, she'd never needed his help before, but he had in fact pointed out a few things she'd missed. Apparently the FBI had some code phrases that meant more than what they seemed. If she had to admit it, he had in fact, been a great help.

She studied the bones in front of her, imagining the victim in her mind, the way they would have walked, moved. Danced.

She frowned, and looked again. Yes, there were several markers pointing to a life spent dancing. Hard to spot among the damage, but they were there.

She pulled off her gloves and flipped through the papers on her clipboard, searching, one of the possible identities was a dancer, no, wait, two of them.

She pulled the two bio's from the stack and put them side by side on a tray beside the skeletal remains, cross checking height and weight markers, and medical histories.

Finally she had her answer.

A name.

She smiled.

"Almost done Bones?" He asked from behind her.

She jumped and spun around, her face panicked. "Don't DO that!"

He held his hands up in surrender. "Do what?"

"Sneak up on me!"

"I didn't. You were concentrating, like you usually are, and didn't hear me." He defended himself, his eyes studying her carefully.

"Oh." She turned around and picked up one of the two pieces of paper. "I've identified this person."

"Who is it?" Booth asked, reaching for the paper, after casting a cursory glance at the bones laid out on the table. It always amazed him how she could look at bones and see a whole person, with feelings and thoughts, and yet when she looked at a live person, she seemed to just see a walking skeleton.

"Adriana Reed, age 23, grocery clerk. At least in 1971 she was a grocery clerk. She also taught ballet."

"What happened to her?"

"Strangulation. " Bits of her dream flashed though her head, making her hands shake slightly for a moment until she got herself under control. "I suspect some kind of cord was used, and from the angle of the slice here," She pointed, "I would say by someone around the same height as the victim."

"5'2" Booth said.

"Yes. Probably female."

"A jealous wife?"

Brennan shrugged. "That's conjecture, I really have no opinion."

Booth nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets. "So are you ready to go then?"

She stared at him. "Go where?"

"Dinner. You have to eat Bones. And you have to sleep too."

"Is it dinner time already?" She checked her watch.


She bit her lip. "How about pizza? At your place?"

He smiled. "Ok. Should I get your bag from your office?" She wanted to say yes, he could see her warring with herself. "We have an early morning session with Sweets tomorrow, it would save a lot of time if I didn't have to come pick you up here first." He offered her a rational out.

"True, it would. In that case yes, I accept your offer. You're sure Parker won't mind?"

He turned her towards her office. "He won't mind a bit Bones. Now let's go, I'm starving!"

They stepped in the door of Booth's apartment, feeling the warmth cover them like a blanket.

"Chilly tonight." Booth said, setting her suitcase down on the floor and shutting the door behind them. He took off his coat and hung it on a hook by the door as he kicked off his shoes and headed for the kitchen to find the phone. "What kind of pizza do you want?"

"Um. The vegetarian pepperoni one please." She said, looking around as she unbuttoned her coat. His apartment was always so much homier than hers. A fuzzy blanket with a hockey logo on it covered the back of the couch, a Lego castle sat, a work in progress, on the coffee table, next to the remote and an empty beer can.

She hung up her coat beside his and placed her shoes by the door before going closer to inspect the castle. A diagram sat on the other side, instructions on how the castle was supposed to look. She sat down and studied the chart carefully. "Are you making this for Parker?" She called out, reaching for a corner piece and pressing it carefully into place.

Booth popped his head around the corner, phone to his ear. "What? Oh, yeah, Part of Parker's Christmas present. I'm going to build the castle and then let him assemble the rest. What? Hello? I'd like to order delivery please…" He disappeared back into the kitchen.

Brennan scanned the table for the next piece, following the directions carefully.

A beer bottle landed in front of her a short time later, and she looked up at Booth. "My brother used to have Lego's when we were kids. Nothing like this though." She put another piece on and sat back, picking up the beer.

Booth sat down beside her and flicked the TV on. "Lego's come a long way since we were young Bones. It's kind of addicting though isn't it?"

"Relaxing." Brennan replied. "How long for the pizza?"

"Half an hour. What do you want to watch, hockey, or football?"

"National Geographic channel."

He rolled his eyes. "Hockey it is."

She leaned forward and started working on the castle again. "Pass me that piece please."

Booth stood up and stretched. "Well, I'm going to go to bed. Sweets is expecting us at eight tomorrow." He picked up her suitcase, "I'll go put this in Parker's room, okay?"

She nodded, standing up. "I should attempt sleep as well."

He led the way down the hallway, flipping the light on in Parker's room as he entered it, placing the suitcase at the foot of the bed.

"There you go."

She paused in the doorway, surveying the room. There was no closet, that was good considering her current state of mind. The bed was a single, with a bunch of drawers underneath, also good.

"Thank you Booth. For letting me stay here, I mean." She picked up a stuffed monkey that was on the dresser next to the door. "This primate is not anatomically correct." She studied it.

Booth turned around to face her. "His name is Bananas."


"Yes." He walked over to her and paused. "And he's very good at keeping nightmares at bay. Feel free to snuggle him, Parker won't mind." He smiled then brushed past her, heading for his own room. "Goodnight Bones!"

She turned and watched him stride down the hall then looked down at the monkey in her hands. "I guess we'll find out."

She placed the stuffed animal on the bed and opened the suitcase, searching for pyjamas.


Lots of everything else, but no pyjamas.

She felt something at the bottom of the suitcase and blushed, pulling it out.

Booth's sweatshirt.

Holding it in her hands, she shrugged. So what? He'd left it at her house, why shouldn't she wear it? Especially since he had neglected to pack her anything to wear to sleep.

She shut the door and pulled off her clothes, putting them in a neat stack on the floor before pulling the sweatshirt over her head. It hung halfway down her thighs, and the sleeves completely enveloped her hands, but it was indescribably soft.

She grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste from her purse, and opened the door, slipping out to the bathroom.

Booth opened his bedroom door and headed for the bathroom, he'd almost forgot to brush his teeth, he walked in and stopped suddenly. "Nice shirt Bones!"

She looked at him, her eyes wide, but continued to brush her teeth. He was clad only in boxers.

He stood beside her at the sink and reached for his toothbrush, giving her a grin.

She spit out her toothpaste and rinsed her mouth. "You didn't pack me any pyjamas." She frowned.

Booth's mind went blank, and his eyes lowered to the waistband of his shirt. "huh."

"Yeah. Well, Goodnight Booth!" She hurried out of the bathroom and into Parker's room shutting the door behind her, turning off the light and getting into bed.

The first thing she noticed was that there was glow in the dark stars all over the ceiling. She hugged bananas to her and stared at them.

Booth was still standing in the bathroom, toothbrush in mouth. He hadn't packed her any pyjamas?


Mental head slap.

How was he supposed to sleep, knowing that the only thing she was wearing was HIS sweatshirt?

Though it looked really, really good on her. And she probably had underwear on.

NOT HELPFUL SEELEY. He glared at himself in the mirror.

He put his toothbrush away and headed for his bedroom, and his bed.

He was going to get some sleep.

Because he said so.

And no one was more stubborn than him.

Except maybe the woman sleeping in his shirt, in his son's bed.

It was going to be a long night.

Booth rolled over, looking at the clock next to the bed, it's glowing numbers stating the fact that is was, still, 2:00 AM.

He buried his head in his pillow in frustration. He really needed to get to sleep, but his mind just would not shut up it kept saying he should go check on her, just once, make sure she was tucked in. Give her a kiss.

He turned on the bed sight light and sat up, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. A kiss. Yeah, right, like he'd be able to stop at a kiss.

An ear splitting shriek sliced through the air, and he heard Parker's bedroom door slam open, and then she was in his room, jumping onto his bed, scrambling to get under the covers, pulling them up over her head.

He'd just had time to notice two things. She had Bananas the monkey clutched in one arm, and she was, in fact, wearing underwear. And judging by the fact that Dr. Temperance Brennan, the strongest woman he'd ever met, was now a shivering lump under his duvet, she was terrified.

Luckily, he knew how to handle this.

He slid down, pulling the covers over his head as well, holding one corner up to let the light into their little cave.

"Fancy meeting you here."

Wide blue eyes stared at him.


A tiny nod.

"Same one?"

Another nod.

"Well, I can hold you if you want, but you're gonna have to tell me about this nightmare, in the morning."

She blinked, considered, then gave another small nod.

He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her, pulling the blanket down so their faces were exposed, and turned off the light.

Every once in a while, she would shudder, and he would make a soothing noise, and then finally, they both fell asleep.

The alarm clock clicked on, blaring Sex and Candy.

Booth rolled over, turning it off, instantly awake. The warm form next to him shifted closer, mumbling.

"What's that Bones?"

Her eyes popped open and she stared up at the roof curiously. "I like that song. Your ceiling has a swirly pattern."

"Yes, it does. It's horrible when I'm hung-over."

She nodded, and sat up, climbing out of the bed.

He reached out and grabbed her arm. "Where are you going?"

"Shower." She shook his hand off. "We have an early morning meeting with Sweets, remember?"

He eyed her knowingly. "Bones. You ARE going to tell me about the nightmare right?"

She flushed and avoided his gaze. "Yes, but not right now. How about after our appointment with Sweets?"

He sat up, running his hand through his hair, blowing a deep breath out of his mouth. "Fine. After we talk to Sweets. Though it would make more sense to talk about it now, rationally speaking, while it's fresh in your mind."

She stared him. He was using her own arguments against her. And he would be right, if the thing most fresh in her memory wasn't the feel of being in his arms, his naked legs against her own, his palm against her stomach, his breath on the back of her neck.

She blushed and backed towards the door. "I.. need to sort it out. After we talk to Sweets, I promise."

"You really promise?"

She nodded.

"Fine." He pushed back the blankets and got out of bed, ignoring his morning erection, and opened the blinds, looking out at the street below. "I'll make coffee."

She nodded, her pulse racing. It had been a long time since she was with a man intimately, and her body was letting her feel exactly how long it had been.

She walked to the bathroom and shut the door behind her, leaning against it, listening for his footsteps to go past. When they did, she ran her fingers through her hair and turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the air with a cloudy mist.

She needed to shave her legs.