SPOILER ALERT: Spoilers for the season 7 finale "The Past in the Present". Set the night after Bones ran off with Christine. That's all I will say about this story ;)


He watched. In fact, he had been watching for a while. The sun had slowly set until his living room had turned completely dark. There had been no movement, no noise. That is, until the door had finally opened.

He hadn't expected things to unravel that way. After the all, the man who walked in his home was alone. Intrigued, he leaned in closer.

Slowly, zombie-like, the newcomer had made his way to every room in his house, only stopping to rearrange a cushion or to pour himself a glass of water. His gaze would linger on some objects, most of them uninteresting, like a plate in the sink or a plant in the corner of the room. His eyes were unfocused, like his thoughts were miles away from his body. The light stagger in his footsteps told him the man had been drinking. The thought of the man suffering brought a warm feeling inside of him. A smile twitched at his lips.

He couldn't help but wonder… Where was the woman? Where was the brilliant forensic anthropologist who thought she could beat him at his own game? Why was it that the federal agent had come home alone?

As Booth moved through his house, Pellant typed in some codes and the images on his laptop changed. How he missed the sound of his fingers typing away on a keyboard! As soon as the parole board had granted his freedom, he had fled straight to his provider and had purchased a new laptop. He hadn't picked the best on the market; after all, if the cops were to seize his equipment once again – he scoffed at the thought - , he hadn't wanted to spend all of his money only to lose the machine later.

He watched the federal agent slowly make his way up the stairs. He paused at the top, staring down the hallway on his right. A smile stretched across Pelant's lips: the girl's bedroom.

Getting to his feet, he stretched. He had been staring at the screen for hours, waiting for the family to come home. His limbs felt stiff, yet he felt great. Even after a few days, he could still feel the lightness of his left ankle. Finally, after all those months, thanks to the not-so-brilliant-FBI-agent, who had been duped by a phoney phone call, he was free to do as he pleased. And, what pleased him was to see them suffer.

Booth finally moved from his rooted-spot at the top of the stairs and slowly made his way down the hallway that would lead to his daughter's bedroom. As he flicked on the lights, the pinkish room came into view. Pelant stood still, watching intently, as though waiting for something, when it happened. As though his knees had given out, the tall man fell to the ground. His hands were hiding his face, but the movement of his shoulders gave away his sobs.

Satisfied, Pelant relished in the chaos he had caused. The man's tears were his reward… for now. There was still much more to be done. They had a plan. Soon, that whole crew would know the truth Pelant had known all these years. This time, it was impossible for them to win.

They would get what they deserved. They had finally met their match.