Some things changed when Hannah went off to college. Some things did not.

She still runs about three miles more days than she doesn't, even if, occasionally, she has concede defeat to DC weather or odd hours and run on a treadmill.

She's a little distracted, when she leaves the gym today, thinking about what's due when, and when Sam's likely to call, and the last e-mail from her father, and when she's going to find time to get her laundry done and--

"Hannah Griffith?"

She stops and turns automatically, to find a tape recorder in her face.

"Trent Turner, Channel 14," he says. "I've been trying to reach you. Just a few questions--"

"I have nothing to say to you," Hannah says. "Please leave me alone."

(She doesn't add that he actually did reach her, twice, and she hung up on him both times. And that she received the ten voice mail messages he left after that, though she deleted them all without listening past his name.)

Trent Turner follows her, though, when she starts back down the sidewalk, with his recorder held at arm's length.

"How well did you know Zach Addy?"

"No comment."

"How did you meet Temperance Brennan?"

"No comment."

"Would you say that Dr. Brennan places an unreasonable amount of pressure on her proteges? Is it possible that trying to live up to that standard may have contributed to Addy's breakdown?"

Hannah, stunned and furious, almost answers that one, and then stops herself. He doesn't even get a no comment that time.

She refuses to run away from this creep, but she speeds up a bit. And he keeps up with her.

"Well, Hannah?"

"Ms. Griffith," she corrects. "No comment."

"I'm not saying that Brennan does it intentionally. Just does she make demands that a person who already weak-minded might find to be overwhelming? Don't you think it's at least a possibility?"

It's looking increasingly like he really is going to follow her all the way back to her dorm. And possibly further than that. She's an untapped angle on a story that's still getting enough coverage to be front-page, top-story stuff. But it's also been news long enough that a lot has already been said.

Hannah abruptly turns into the Starbucks on the corner, and isn't surprised when he follows her.

"Come on," the reporter says. "Five minutes. I'll buy you a cup of coffee, you can tell me what you think really happened. Correct all the things you think the press is getting wrong."

You get more flies with honey . . .

"Fine," Hannah says. "Give me a minute."

He takes a seat at an empty table, and she makes her way back to the ladies' room.

Once the door's locked, she pulls her cell phone from her bag, and calls Agent Booth.

After all, once the fly is stuck in the honey, you pretty much whack it with the biggest stick you've got.

Hannah has three missed calls, and a voice mail message, all from Agent Booth, when she turns her phone back on after class. The message is a little ominious in its brevity -- Hey, kiddo, call me when you get this, okay? Whenever that is. Or maybe it's ominious in that for all he's clearly trying to sound light and neutral, Hannah can hear in Agent Booth's voice that whatever he wants her to call him about is going to fall into the category of Not Good.

She doesn't even bother going back to her room to drop her things, just calls him on her way to the Metro station. She's not surprised when he asks her to meet him, as soon as possible, though she is surprised when he asks her to come to his office. And while it's clear he doesn't want to talk about Whatever This Is over the phone, Hannah's starting to genuinely and truly worry.

The last time someone had news they didn't want to give her over the phone, it was that Agent Booth was dead.

It takes an eternity to get to the Hoover Building, and another eternity to get through security even though they've been told to expect her and had she realized where she was coming she SO would have gone back to the dorm to dump her stupid bag.

Eventually someone shows up to escort her up to Agent Booth's office, and she doesn't know if he's an agent or what, because aside from confirming her identity and asking her to come with him, he doesn't say a damn word. Hannah doesn't know if that means he knows what she's there to talk about and it's so bad that he doesn't know what to say, or if he's assuming that she's some sort of suspect or something and therefore not worth talking to, or if he just has the social skills of a cactus.

"Your visitor's here, Booth," the man says, and leaves Hannah standing in the door to Agent Booth's office.

All in all, it's a pretty uneventful graduation ceremony, by Neptune standards. Which is to say, no one is arrested in the middle of it. (Say what you like about Vinnie Van Lowe, but he knows better than to interrupt the big day of the little darlings of Neptune's Who's Who just to arrest a nobody biker.)

The ceremony itself is, of course, only the beginning of things -- there will be a solid week of parties around Neptune, with a great deal of negotiation between parents to determine who gets Saturday night and who gets stuck with Wednesday afternoon. There's a school sponsored please-don't-get-yourself-killed-on-graduation-night party tonight, but it can't compete with the blow out Amber's throwing, and no one who's anyone is going. Hannah's skipping both (not that she was invited to the latter); she's had plans with Em for graduation for years, and they might even let the boys tag along.

She needs to find her parents (who seem to be doing a halfway decent job of getting along today, much to Hannah's utter relief) but right now there's a brief lull in the hugs and congratulations, and Hannah is taking a moment.

She's survived high school. In Neptune. And she has the diploma to prove it.