AN:Here is the first multi chapter fic I have done in quite a while. Any suggestions and constructive reviews are appreciated.

I do not own Bones. Is that enough of a disclaimer?

Enjoy!


Screams…Men…Ropes…Anger…Hurt…Panic…Hurt…Water…Walking…Tired…Sleep

As she wakes up again in the dark and dirty alley, she raises her hand to the tender baseball sized lump on the back of her head. Try as hard as she might, she still can't remember where she is, how she got here, and worst of all, her name. She once again takes in her bleak surroundings and looks down at the gown she is wearing. It's damp, dirty, and torn, but at one point it looks to have been a very fine dress indeed. Having a fine dress doesn't get answers so, with a huff, she stands up and makes her way out of the alley.

As she emerges, she sees a busy street before her and takes in her surroundings. She sees mostly men in fine attire and a few women with bodices that are too low for decency. The buildings look clean and neat from the outside but one never knows, so as she turned right onto the street, she kept close to the shadows.

After only one block, she felt a shiver and a feeling of dread came over her. She had no proof, but she felt as though someone was following her. She picked up her pace and then darted across the street, through the alley, and out to the next street over. As she quickly walked, she repeatedly turned to look behind her but found no evidence of anyone following. Panic rose again and she ran, this time right into a solid body.

"Oh my!" she yelps as her bottom slams into the cold sidewalk. She looks up and sees the outline of a man, with his hand extended, frantically apologizing.

"Ma'am, please forgive me for any discomfort you are now feeling! It was surely not my intention to knock you down." As he said the words, he gave her a quick once over and noticed she looked like a street urchin. As he helped her up though, he saw more, more than the dirt on the surface. He saw what used to be a very fine dress, and a very pretty face behind the grit and grime that covered it.

"Don't be absurd sir, you did not knock me down, I ran into you. You are absolved of any wrong doing." As she spoke, she did not make eye contact, and pretended to smooth out her dress, although that was an obvious waste of time.

"Well then, won't you allow me to present myself to you properly. I am Lord Seeley Booth, Earl of Havlow." After his introduction, he gently brought her small hand to his lips. Her cheeks flushed red, embarrassed at the scandalous way she must look. As he lowered her hand, he asked "May I have the pleasure of your name?"

Her answer was a blank stare. Her name? She didn't even remember. What was she to do? Lie? Make up a name and then run? It all became too much and she did what ladies do…she swooned, right into the arms of Lord Booth. With one hand about her waist, he raised the other to the back of her head to help her stand on her own. When he did, he felt the lump on the back of her head and became fiercely protective of her.

"My lady, please tell me your name so we can get you to your family and contact a physician!" He knew he sounded panicked, but he felt the sudden urge to protect this woman from anyone and anything.

He felt her start to shake and then heard the sobs. They were sad, heart crushing sobs and all he could do was hold her until she was done. After another minute or so, she backed away, wiped her tears, and looked up. "I am sorry Lord Booth, but I can not give you my name. Not because I wish for you to not know who I am, but because I do not remember it." With the end of that reveal, she hung her head in desperation. Where does she go? Who will help her? As if he was reading her mind, Lord Booth grabbed her hand and spoke. "You will come with me to my townhouse. There I will call for a physician and we will see about getting you in perfect health."Without a chance for her to object, they were on the way to his waiting carriage, which was just around the corner. He assisted her inside, but as he was about to get inside himself, he remembered. This was a young lady without a chaperon, he may not exactly know her standing in society, but he knew the repercussions if they were to be discovered in a carriage late at night alone. He then opted to ride atop with the driver, all the way thinking of the mysterious, disheveled, beautiful lady behind him.