It had been a day since Eliot had lost the ability to read minds. Somewhere between the beginning and end of a session with the punching bag in the gym, it had just gone. Good riddance. The last thing he needed was thoughts that were not his own and that he couldn't keep out in his head. He was just fine without, the ability and the headaches it had caused.
After a few hours of sleep to catch up on what he hadn't been getting, he ran to the auto parts store to pick up the brake pads for the old truck he'd bought. After getting the first two on, he headed inside to take a break, heading for the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.
Entering the kitchen, he hesitated when he saw Booth. It wasn't that someone else was in the kitchen, but given a quick read on the guy, he seemed almost agitated or bothered by something. The FBI agent, Booth, if he was remembering right. Eliot headed for the refrigerator. "You're going to wear a path in the floor."