Thanks for all the support. I'm sorry I haven't replied to the reviews for the last fic. Crazy life, you know? I'll be away until late Sunday night, and I have no idea if I'll have internet access, so I'll update 'Time Will Tell' next week and reply to the reviews.

For Julia, who's been dealt a nasty blow of FML. Feel better soon!

Anything aired up to this point is fair game, though this is a missing scene from 'The Death of the Queen Bee.' It takes place after Booth and Sweets have their little web chat. Enjoy!


"Yo, Bones, open up!" Booth pounded on the motel door. "Bones!"

Eventually she opened the door, eyebrows crinkled. "What's wrong, Booth? You're not supposed to be here for ten more minutes."

"We need to talk," he told her, a tiny smirk on his lips.

"Oh…kay," she said, stepping aside and letting him in.

Booth clapped his hands and walked across the room, flopping ungracefully on the bed. "Ooh, Magic Fingers!" he exclaimed as he caught a glimpse of the box on the bedside table. "Hey, Bones, got any quarters?"

Brennan quirked an eyebrow at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "Booth, what are you doing here?"

"I just talked to Sweets. Going over the case stuff, you know."

"Yeah, I've spoken with Cam, Angela, Hodgins, and Mr. Bray regarding the remains, though Hodgins' focus appeared to be divided between the case and it's similarities to teenage slasher movies."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Booth replied, interlocking his fingers behind his head and leaning against the bed's headboard. "We'll have plenty of time to talk about Hodgins' slasher-conspiracy stuff later. Right now we've got to work out a cover."

"A cover?"

"Sweets thinks it would be best to not go flashing my badge around. Might send everyone into a panic again. And you're already invited to the reunion…"

"They know me, Booth. It's not like I can pretend to be someone else at my own reunion."

"That's fine, Bones. You be you, the wealthy author and successful scientist that you are, and I'll be…your husband."

"My husband?"

"Yeah, you know, pretend we've said 'I do.'"

"I know what a husband is," she sighed as she leaned against the dresser. "Are you sure that's wise?"

"Come on, we've been undercover before: Tony and Roxie, Buck and Wanda Moosejaw…"

"Those were before you confessed your feelings toward me."

"It's the only way, Bones," Booth tried as he slid to the edge of the bed.

"You could be my publicist," Brennan suggested.

"Why would your publicist attend your class reunion?" Booth pointed out, standing and making his way to Brennan. "We've got to be together for this to work. It's the only way."

Brennan scrutinized Booth for a few moments, mentally weighing the pros and cons.

Booth shifted a half-step closer to her and held her gaze. "That stuff about my feelings--it's in the past, Bones. It's not going to affect our partnership, okay?"

Eventually--almost reluctantly--she gave in, sighing and sending an exaggerated eye-roll in his direction. "Fine."

"Great," Booth grinned and clapped his hands together. "Okay, we don't have time to bang out a full cover, so we'll just work on the basics for now. First, I'll need a new name…"

"What about Walter?" Brennan suggested.

"Walter?" Booth questioned, making a face. "Walter?!"

"What's wrong with that name?"

"Makes me sound like a…Squint," he grinned, hoping it would come across as a joke rather than an insult. "Not that there's anything wrong with being a Squint. I'm just saying that one look at me, and it should be fairly obvious that I am not a Squint."

"Okay, then you come up with a name."

Booth thought for a moment. "Robert. Robert Kent," he said definitively.

"How is Robert any better than Walter?" Brennan scoffed.

"It just is, Bones," Booth replied, mildly irritated that they were arguing over something as menial as a fake name. "Now what do I do for a living?" He thought for second then snapped his fingers. "I'm a writer."

"You can't be a novelist, Booth. People will ask about why you're not published, which I'm assuming you're not."

She was frustrating, but she had a point.

"Okay," he sighed, "I'll be a writer for the newspaper back home. Sports."

"That will be satisfactory," Brennan nodded in acceptance.

"Good," Booth agreed. "The rest of the details will fall into place, but now it seems we've got a custodian to check on."

Brennan picked up her coat from the back of the nearby chair, and Booth helped her into it.

"You look nice in purple," he told her, affection evident in his voice.

She glanced over her shoulder at him but didn't reply.

"Just getting into character," Booth responded upon seeing her odd look. "I'm allowed to compliment my…wife, right?"

"Yeah…" she sighed, sliding her hands to the back of her neck and flipping her hair out from under her collar.

Booth grinned and his hand landed on the small of Brennan's back as he escorted her from the room. He told himself it was because of their cover. Even he didn't believe that, and, grudgingly, his hand dropped away from her as he fell into step beside her.

"I don't look like a 'Robert,'" he mused, catching a glimpse of himself in one of the motel room windows as they passed by.

"What?" Brennan half-laughed.

"I look like a 'Bobby,'" Booth nodded as they passed another window. "Yeah, definitely a 'Bobby.'"


Thanks for reading!

Did anyone else find it odd that Brennan had a pet snake, yet she was terrified of them in 'The Mummy in the Maze?' I think she just wanted a piggyback ride from Booth. :D