Nothing Belongs To Me, Grr.

After her meeting with Doctor Jack Hodgins and Angela Montenegro, Amber began exiting the large building, only to find herself being drawn toward a mass of papers, files, photos and such on her way out that were laid out across a large glass and wood table inside some unknown to her's office. After checking behind her a time or two, she entered, peeked around, then slowly made her way to the desk, sifting through the contents until she found what she seemed to be looking for.

With a sigh, the private investigator grabbed at a large glossy photo and stumbled her way into the dark and rather comfortable chair that rested behind the other side of the table. Closing her eyes, her fingertips brushed across the face of the handsome FBI agent and she sucked in a breath as a staggering amount of memories of another time, another life flooded her.

Swallowing loudly, her eyes re-opened many moments later. With a shaky hand, Amber held the photo up, closer to her face and tilted her head as she read the name "Seeley Booth" under it, along with a bit of information about the special agent. She smiled, softly, then shook her head.

Getting into her car, Amber reached around until she found a small notepad and began to write. A poem. Something much more cheerful than what she'd last left the world with, something that hinted at another time, another life. She made a mental note to send that FBI agent a copy.