(The Light in the Life)

Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.

I really don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

The next four days were busy with another case unfolding, the closing of the Killer Clown case and yet, Booth and Brennan found time to eat dinner with each other. They ate at the Royal Diner since it was neutral territory and yet a comfortable place to dine for both of them.

"I think we might know why Keith Miller was killing those kids. It's psychological stuff and you don't really believe in it, but it makes sense." Booth sipped some coffee and waited to see if Brennan was interested in hearing his theory.

Psychology was a soft science, but she had seen on occasion that it had merits. "What did you find?"

"The Altoona police went through Miller's apartment with two of my agents. They found several diaries that Miller had kept. I've skimmed through some of them and um . . . he was nuts . . . He was abused by both of his parents when he was growing up. They hated kids, so I have no idea why they had Miller except he wrote in his diary that his mother told him he was a mistake . . . anyway, his father was a professional clown. That's some real crazy right there." He stopped and stared at his half full cup of coffee. Miller was so screwed up and it made him grateful that his grandfather had rescued him from his father. He could see how his father could have warped him if he hadn't killed himself first to escape the bastard.

She knew that Booth was probably thinking of his own childhood and it made her feel sad. Brennan placed her hand over his free hand. "He didn't have anyone to rescue him."

Yeah." Booth looked up and smiled at his wife. "I had Pops. I was very lucky . . . Miller hated kids because his parents hated kids. They thought their kid was bad because all kids were bad to them. Talk about messed up. He thought it was his mission to get rid of bad kids to please his parents. The way he picked his victims was just . . . really warped. He decided that kids were bad if they were willing to talk to him as a clown. I can't figure out the logic of that, but that's what he did. He would drive into a town in his clown costume and pick a quiet street or lane and walk around until a child approached him. That was how he knew who his victims were. He considered them to be a sacrifice for his parents, whom he loved. His way of weeding out the evil in this world . . . His words by the way." He paused to sip more coffee. Miller's diaries creeped him out.

Miller's explanation was very confusing to Brennan. "He must have been insane. It's a wonder he could hold a job at all."

Booth shrugged his shoulders. "The bakery owner claimed that Miller suffered from migraines and they lasted for days. It might have been a lie to allow him to travel to various places to kill or it might have been true. He didn't mention the headaches in his diary, so we'll never know."

A quarreling couple entered the diner yelling at each other over a dent in their car. Their shouts got louder as they sat down and threats started to fly between them. Growing angry at the couple's lack of respect for themselves and the other patrons, Booth stood up, walked over to the table they were sitting at and showed them his badge. "Keep it down. No one here wants to hear you two arguing. You're disturbing the peace."

Belligerent, the man stood up and glared at Booth. "This is a free country or at least it used to be before you fairies took over and ruined it for the rest of us."

His eyes now cold, Booth placed his badge back in his jacket pocket and flipped his jacket aside so that the man could see his pistol. "Well this fairy doesn't sprinkle fairy dust if you get my drift."

The menacing look, the sight of the pistol and the stranger wilted. He sat down and stared at the table instead of Booth. "Our argument was done anyway."

"Good." Booth walked back to his table with a scattering of applause thanking him from the other patrons in the diner. Sitting down, Booth shook his head. "I guess I'm a fairy."

Amused, Brennan laughed and shook her head. "You really don't look like the fairies in Christine's books." The thought of someone calling Booth a fairy was just so funny to her. "Clearly he doesn't know you were a sniper while you were in the Rangers and that you still serve that function on occasion for the FBI."

The man overheard Brennan's rather loud statement, turned pale and urged his wife to leave the diner with him. He knew that he had made a mistake and he wanted to leave before the FBI agent took interest in him again. As he left he glanced back at Booth who was staring at him. Relieved to be out the door, he hurried his wife to their car and left. The dent in their car forgotten.

The whole situation was so amusing to Brennan. "I've missed how much fun it is to be with you, Booth." And she meant it. Booth made her happy and her life was never boring around her husband.

Jane had witnessed the incident and wanted to reward her favorite customer for what he had just done. Placing a piece of apple pie in front of Booth then Brennan, the server smiled. "Thanks Agent Booth. I was worried that the argument was going to escalate into something much worse . . . the pie is on the house."

Grateful for free pie, Booth picked up his fork and scooped up a piece. "Thanks Jane, anytime." Chewing his bite of pie, Booth pointed at Brennan's piece. "It's good Bones and you know the little guy might want some."

She found it amusing that he called her fetus the little guy, but it was a male fetus and she loved apple pie, so his statement was acceptable. After swallowing a bite, Brennan placed her fork down. "It is interesting that I love pie now when I used to hate it."

Booth had a theory about that too, but he kept it to himself. "Pie is good for you. It's fruit."

Rolling her eyes, Brennan decided not to correct him. It would just spoil their happy moment anyway. "I have a body being brought in by the Army tomorrow. If I must work late, can you watch Christine for me?"

"Of course I can." Booth was happy that Brennan trusted him with their daughter. He had been caring for her whenever Brennan had to work late for a few weeks now and he enjoyed every bit of it. "I'll go to an early meeting and then be over to the house around six. Is that okay?"

"Yes, Max can only watch Christine until seven, so six is fine. Thank you." Christine had a new book she wanted her father to read to her, so Brennan knew her child would be excited when she told her that her father would be staying with her tomorrow night.

The last four days had been rather nice for both of them. They were becoming more relaxed around each other and their dinner dates were getting longer and longer. Brennan had a decision to make in the very near future and she had a lot of thinking to do. She just hoped she came to the right decision since it affected many people and not just her.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

With the Stanbow case closed and the Killer Clown case finished, Booth was working hard to fix himself. He went to GA meetings every night right after work and attended church three days a week. Father Hebert was counseling him and encouraging him to attend mass as often as he could. He knew that Booth was a spiritual man and the priest hoped that the church could help him in his struggle to control his gambling addiction. He had known Booth since he had moved to the D.C. area and he wanted to help him return home to his family as soon as possible. With Booth, his family meant everything to him and Father Hebert knew that if Booth could return home, he would make sure he never gambled again. The Agent was aware of how much he had to lose if he did.

Brennan had used her time away from her husband to think about what she wanted from Booth. He was going to his GA meetings, he took good care of their daughter when he could and he was attending church. He had neglected his faith after he was released from prison and it had taken his fall from the gambling wagon to send him back to the church he used to love. Since her husband was a man of faith, she knew that the church would be a help to him. He had always relied on his faith when things were going badly for him and the fact that he was now open to going back to church told her that Booth might be finally recovering from his betrayal by the FBI and the death of their friend, Sweets. All of these things were signs that she might be able to trust him once more.

Ooooooooooooo

He was sitting in their living room, Christine was in bed and Booth was enjoying just being with his wife. "I'd like to talk about something serious, if it's okay with you."

Not sure what he planned to talk about, Brennan suddenly felt nervous. "Yes, of course."

His eyes on his clasped hands, Booth tried to martial his thoughts. He didn't want her to misunderstand what he was about to talk about. "You know I'm afraid of clowns." He had denied that fear for many years, but he knew he hadn't fooled anyone, least of all his wife. "When we confronted Keith Miller, he was dressed as a clown . . . green wig, red and yellow clothes, makeup." He paused, the memory of Miller was still fresh in his mind and it made his heart beat faster. "Um. The State Police and a Westmoreland Sheriff's deputy had him in a stand-off. Miller didn't want to get out of his car . . . When we got there, I talked to Miller and talked him out of the car." He stopped talking, the hairs on his arms were standing up just thinking about the sight of Miller standing next to his car.

Brennan noticed how much Booth was struggling to tell his story and she wanted him to understand that she was on his side. She moved from the chair to the couch, sat down next to her husband and grasped one of his hands in her hand. "I'm listening Booth."

The feel of her hand in his hand seemed to steady him. "Miller got out of the car and I . . . I knew I couldn't get closer to him than I was. I just couldn't do it. Some of the others approached Miller and before they got too close, he pulled a gun and he fired at the Sheriff's deputy and then the State Trooper. The asshole was a terrible shot. If he had been any good, he would have killed those men . . . Aubrey dropped to his knee to shoot back and for just a second I stood there. Miller was my worst nightmare come true, but I shook it off and I shot over Aubrey's head and killed Miller. Even after the man was dead, I couldn't go near him . . . I was afraid to go near him and he was dead . . . I hate that I'm so afraid of clowns. It doesn't make any sense, but I am . . . If I hadn't hesitated for that second, I think I would have killed him before Hannah was shot, but . . . but I did and now she's in the hospital. It was my fault that she was hurt."

"Nonsense, Booth." It infuriated her that her husband would think Hannah being hurt was his fault. "She was told to stay in the car. Common sense should have told her to remain in the car where it was safer, but what did she do? Bullets started flying in the area she was in and she got out of her car to take pictures. She was grossly negligent. You can't save people from stupidity. Hannah was shot because she failed to use sense. You didn't fail her. You didn't fail anyone. That one second wouldn't have meant anything if Hannah had hidden in her car. You actually saved lives by killing Miller as soon as you could. I'm proud of you Booth. As far as I am concerned you are a hero. You saved lives when you killed Miller and not just the law enforcement officers at the scene. You saved a child's life by keeping him from getting to Bethlehem, West Virginia."

A weight seemed to leave his shoulders. A weight he hadn't known was there. "You really think so?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't believe it, Booth. You know I don't lie." Brennan raised his hand to her lips and kissed the back of it. "You are a hero and I will not let you think otherwise."

Her lips on his hand sent a tingle up his arm and he felt like there was hope that someday he could come home again. "Thank you." He watched as she lowered his hand to her breasts and rested it there. He was afraid to move, not sure what she was expecting from him.

"Booth, I know that you being out of the house is working. It's what motivates you to fix your gambling problem." She was struggling, trying to find the right words. She had something to say and she needed Booth to understand. "What's going to keep you going when you move back here?"

He had an answer for her. "I know that if I screw up a second time, you won't give me a second chance." And he knew that. He knew that Brennan would only give him one chance and this was it. It was all she had in her since trust was such a valuable thing to her. "I know that I can never gamble again, ever."

She believed him. She believed he knew that she could only let him betray her once and never again. "I know that there is no guarantee how this will turn out. Life is uncertain. There are so many variables that you and I have no control over, so I cannot rely on certainties."

Not sure what she was saying, Booth was afraid that she was telling him that they had no future together and that made him want to cry, but he didn't. He sat there and hoped he was wrong. "I don't understand, Bones."

"I'm ready for you to come home, Booth." Brennan smiled. "You have proved to me that I can trust you . . . Hannah came back and you didn't move on from me back to her. You remained loyal to me . . . you've gone to your meetings. You've been honest about what you are doing to fix your problem and Booth, you went back to church."

That seemed an odd thing to impress Brennan with. "You don't believe in God."

"But you do." Brennan saw the look of confusion on his face. "When you were released from prison, you stopped going to church. That was so unlike you Booth. Many things you did was so unlike the Booth I knew . . . you were distrustful of everyone including God and you had told me many times in the past that you loved God and he loved you . . . It was unnerving." She clutched his hand harder in her clasp. "Since you quit gambling, you have gone back to your meetings. You have gone back to church. You have done everything you could to show me that I can trust you again and I do trust you Booth."

Booth closed his eyes and felt a sense of relief wash through him. He had been so afraid that he would never get his family back.

"Look at me Booth." She didn't know what he was thinking, but she needed to see his eyes. "I want you to come back home."

She had said it once more and Booth was starting to believe his nightmare was coming to an end. His mouth opened and he stared at her as if he was having trouble accepting what she had said. "Really? . . . I mean yeah, I think I should move back home too."

Shifting her body, Brennan leaned over and waited for Booth to lean towards her. When he did, she placed her hands on the collar of his shirt and pressed her lips against his lips. It had been such a long time and at one time she had feared she would never kiss him again.

Booth shifted his body and placed his hands on his wife's sides under her arms and returned her kiss with a mixture of desperation, love and lust. Once they were both breathless, they separated and they both laughed. The last several weeks had been hard for both of them, but they now were back together and they knew that they would never be parted again.

"Welcome home, Booth." She stood up and reached her hand down for Booth's hand.

Glad to be home again, Booth stood up and took her hand in his hand. "I have missed you so much, Bones. All I did was dream about you while I was gone. Every night. My dreams were all about you."

She thought that was so romantic and it made her blush with thoughts of the things she had dreamed about when Booth had been gone. "I think we should move into the bedroom. I think we should turn some of those dreams into reality, don't you?"

A grin on his face, Booth followed Brennan to their bedroom and knew that they would both be calling in sick the next day. He was with his family again and he wanted to enjoy that moment for as long as he could.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Okay, the end. I hope you liked it. Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.

A/N: I have a new story starting next week, 'Eternity'.