A baby was whimpering.

Brennan opened her eyes, slowly and blearily, and rolled off the bed. She was stumbling across the room and had Hadriel rocking gently in her arms before she was fully awake.

Hadriel was wailing freely now. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his mouth was wide open, and he howled. His eyes were red, squinty, and the large, ugly, bleeding jagged cut on his forehead was inflamed and bleeding freely.

She sat down heavily on the bed again, rocking him in her arms. According to the clock on the hotel wall, it was seven AM. The clerk had said that the police station would open at eight, and that it would take an hour to get there, walking. Sighing, Bones changed the infant's diaper, making a new one out of the hotel sheets and nail scissors (Angela had insisted she carry them on her person At All Times) and throwing the old one into a wastepaper basket. She cut some more of the sheet away, and wrapped Hadriel safely inside. Then, to make sure he was warm, she wrapped him into the blanket he'd been in yesterday.

"That should make sure you don't contract any viruses or bacteria, hmm?" She told the boy as she pulled the remains of the sheet over the bed and straightened her rumpled clothes. She pocketed her wallet and her battery-dead cell phone, and gently picked up the quiet child. He didn't make any noise; he looked around, wide emerald green eyes bright and alive with curiosity. Bones had never seen eyes that green; it was probably a reinforced trait, she mused, a family thing.

She took the envelope, the letter still inside, and tucked them into her coat. She pulled the coat on and picked up the infant into her arms. He blinked at her. "Muh, muh, muh," he gibbered. With a surprisingly fast hand, he reached up to tug her hair. "Mama?"

Bones' breath hitched.

Her stomach contracted, a thick, heavy lump rising uncomfortably from her stomach, settling in her throat.

"No, Hadriel," Bones murmured. "I'm not your mama. I'm...I'm Temperance."

The boy's button-nose scrunched up. "Dem-er-uns?"

"No, Hadriel, Temperance."

"Em-er-unce?"

"Temperance, Hadriel."

The little child's bottom lip began to quiver. Bones saw the warning signs of two big green eyes beginning to tear up.

"Oh, no, no, Hadriel, don't cry – um, well, my friends all call me Bones, despite the fact that I've persistently informed them that continuing to do so will lead to dire consequences. It's a rather irritating nickname, I find. Bones."

"Bo'es?" This one was easier to sound out, and his brilliant green eyes peered up at her.

"Yes. Bones." She picked the key up from the desk, picking the small child in her arms as Hadriel quietly chanted away to himself, "Bo'es, Bo'es, Bo'es." Bones walked out of the room and locked the door behind her. The cheap hotel didn't have an elevator; she had to climb down two flights of stairs to reach the first floor. By the looks of things, she was the only guest; a different clerk sat at the desk, a young woman with more metal punched in her face than a grenade victim this time, chewing gum loudly and flicking through a magazine.

After Brennan paid for the night, she asked the girl if she would call a cab. The girl shrugged and in a nasal voice replied that sure, she would.

"And do you know where I would find a good baby store?" asked Bones uncertainly.

The girl glanced at the baby, who was staring right at her with an expression of interest on his face, and said, "Loads in London, I fink. Dunno 'bout spes'fic d'rections, though."

Bones opened her mouth to reply – just as a taxi rolled up outside. Nodding goodbye to the girl, who was already back to reading her magazine, Bones held Hadriel closer to her chest, and strode through the – apparently broken – revolving doors.

"Where'll it be, den, luv?" asked the cabbie with a thick London accent.

"Ah...London. Somewhere in the centre. I'm looking for a baby store...?"

The cabbie looked at her, his eyes flicking down to Hadriel in her arms. His eyes flicked back up again, taking in her expensive handbag, her neat haircut, her well-applied and subtle make-up, the faint American drawl, the expensive (although slightly rumpled) clothes. "Take you to 'yde Park, den, miss?"

"Yes," said Brennan, relieved. "Hyde Park, please."

The streets were...huge. Huge and loud and bustling, filled with honking cars, yelling pedestrians, motorists weaving in and out of traffic, double-decker bright red buses moving forward slowly, ploughing through the street like an elephants through gazelles.

Bones walked through it all, feeling like the only calm person in the entire street – all around her, people were barking loudly into mobile phones, chatting away to people next to them, complaining loudly about one thing or another.

Hadriel looked around, twisting his head so far that Bones was strongly reminded of a movie she'd seen when she was young, a movie about devils possessing young girls. Complete nonsense, of course – the boy she'd gone to the cinema with had expected her to tremble and shiver and seek comfort from him: in the end, he was the one that walked out of the cinema pale-faced and shaking.

Bones checked the rudimentary map the cabbie had drawn for her on a paper napkin, and ducked into a large, substantially quieter side street. She squinted up at the obscured street name, hidden by a large tree, attached to plaque on a nearby wall. "Clarendon Place," she read aloud; looking up and down the street, she could see it was filled mostly with children's book stores and clothes shops.

"Alright, Hadriel, this looks like the place we're looking for," she murmured. Her arms were getting heavy – the baby was barely that, and more of a toddler. She'd have to let him walk for a while later on, to ensure his development. If she didn't let him be active he would statistically be more likely to lead a sedentary, unhealthy life later on.

Hadriel didn't seem to mind about his carer's plight; his eyes were riveted on a street performer further down the pavement. The man wore a top hat and a long purple cloak, complete with silver fastenings. He caught Bones staring and winked at her, raising a hand to elaborately flourish a black plastic wand at her. Immediately, a large bunch of flowers popped into his hand, replacing the wand; all around him, small children and parents 'ooh'ed.

"Wizz-uhd!" Hadriel cried.

Bones hurried past, her distaste for anything based upon superstition and human stupidity – really, to be so easily fooled by a bunch of collapsible roses? – worming its way to the surface, her face already twisting into a moue of dislike.

Further down Clarendon Place, she saw a large, airy shop with a bright sign in the window proclaiming children's and infant's supplies, all 60% off for closing. Inside, she bought enough toddler's clothes to last her a week – or at least until she dropped him off at the nearest police station.

Bones caught another cab back to her hotel; she had never been so grateful for pastel sheets and walls, with good room service and several rooms instead of the single, tiny room and grungy little bathroom she'd had to suffer through at the little hotel back at Acorn Avenue. She rang for room service and was rewarded ten minutes later with a knock at the door.

Feeding Hadriel was a trial. He didn't want the baby formula she'd bought at the store, insisting to eat "gwown-u' foo'" until Bones finally gave in and gave him her plate of French onion soup (she'd never cared for cheese on soup anyway). Then came the problem of the spoon. Apparently Hadriel found it extremely insulting to be fed – he grappled the spoon from her and insisted on feeding himself, which resulted in about a third of the bowl of soup on the floor, a third over Bones' clothes, about a third all over himself and only a very minimal amount inside Hadriel himself.

Hadriel didn't seem to mind at all. "Yum yum!" He cried gleefully, banging the spoon against the expensive china plate.

After the soup-and-spoon dilemma came dessert. Bones had ordered up some fruit for dessert, as she usually did – but Hadriel did not like the fruit. Bones, however, wasn't about to give in on this one – so Hadriel was almost forcefully fed a banana. He was wriggling and twisting so much that Bones only just managed to feed him about half of it – the rest ended up, almost predictably, in his hair.

By this time, Hadriel was grumpy and annoyed. He also needed a bath and a nappy-change.

By this time, Bones was grumpy, annoyed, and hungry, because she hadn't eaten during the feeding-Hadriel-trails. She needed food and possibly a nap.

Thankfully, bathing him was relatively simple. He sat still while she carefully washed him up, mindful of not scrubbing too hard – Bones could remember what it was like to be scrubbed to rawness when she was a little girl, and she hadn't liked it at all. He also sat quietly while she carefully washed his hair, eyes screwed up tight when Bones told him to.

"Alright, Hadriel, I think you're all nice and un-grubby now," Bones informed him as he sat in the bottom of the bathtub, wet and clean. He yawned at her as she lifted him out of the tub, showing several small milk teeth, and stood still as she towelled him dry. She dressed him in the new clothes and settled him down on her bed for a nap.

In two minutes, Hadriel was fast asleep.

Bones took the time to have her own lunch, call the bellboy back to take the tray, have her own shower, and take out her laptop.

She needed to find out where the nearest police station was. As much as she liked the little boy, she couldn't keep him.