"Gone, But Not Given In"
She ignored the gazes of the agents as she walked briskly toward his old office. A few agents at the copy machine gathered in a circle, gossiping and staring. She never noticed, her eyes looking directly in front of her, but not seeing anything.
The new agent in his office, Special Agent Leroy McCain, knew nothing of what Temperance Brennan was doing.
She charged, shoving open the door, and turner furiously to face where she had just come out of. She walked quickly to the table next to the exit. Pulling out the drawer, she discarded the contents onto the floor, and wiped everything from the top. "What are you doing?" McCain said, regaining his thoughts after the makeshift attack.
When Brennan had entered the room, furious, he had jumped back, his chair hitting the small table behind him.
Brennan hit the small end table with force, only to see one of the legs crack, accompanied by a loud banging. She proceeded to run behind McCain, smacking the table behind him. "I'm looking. Looking for something!" She mumbled, mostly to herself as she shoved the agent aside.
"What the hell could you be looking for in my desk?" Agent McCain asked, not exactly happy about a scientist banging his tables.
With a swift motion of her right wrist, and two loud cracking noises, the table split, and a tube protruded from the leg. It was a thin, metal tube used usually to carry large papers, as not to wrinkle them. Instead of paper inside, there was an envelope with 'Brennan' written on the front, and a small key was taped to the side.
Opening the envelope, she saw a map. Just what she was looking for. "This is Booth's stuff. It's his." She said, turning around so the map made more sense.
"Booth is dead! All due respect, Dr. Brennan, but he died. Four years ago. You know that." Agent McCain said angrily, looking down at the paper in her hands. "Is that a map of my office?" He asked.
"Booth's office. It's Booth's office, Booth's tables," She began, running to the chair in the corner, kicking it. Nothing happened. The chair didn't even move. Reaching a hand under the arm, she pulled a small cord. Then, when she kicked the chair, it moved, "Booth's chair." She said triumphantly. Her wrist shook, beginning, already, to bruise. She hit her heel on the floorboards until one of them opened with a 'pop.' Brennan bent down, ignoring McCain's voice telling her he was calling security, and put her hand in the hole in the floor. What she pulled out made McCain drop the phone from his hand.
Seeley Temperance Angela Jack Zack Camille
A box. Simple. A small metal box, like one used in the 90's to hold money. Taped with duct tape on the top was a small handgun. 'Temperance' was scrawled messily on the side of the package in permanent marker. This is what he meant for her to have.
"See this?" She yelled to the Agent. "See this, McCain? This is a box!" Brennan shoved the box in his face, beyond furious. Ripping the duct tape off the box, she grabbed the gun, discarding the tape. Opening the box, she grabbed the bullets, and loaded the gun. "This means he's still alive!" She screamed. "Got that?" She pulled a small black box out of the larger metal one, and opened it carefully. Inside was a small Verizon cell phone. She opened the flip phone and pressed the power button.
"Dr. Brennan!" Agent McCain said sternly, "Leave! Now."
The phone powered up, and tears came to her eyes when she saw the background. It was him, Seeley Booth. It was a picture of him before she had met him. He was tied up, to a chair, she guessed, being tortured by some long lost guy probably on the FBI's Most Wanted list. A blinking box on the bottom of the screen stopped her flood of memories. "1 New TXT MSG." She opened the TXT box, and read the message.
'TB-
Check My Music. Speed Dial 3 will know what to do with it. Luck.
SB'
Speed Dial 3 was a number in Boston. A morgue. Garrett Macy.
In My Music was a recording from four years prior, probably the day Special Agent Seeley Booth was announced dead. And what that recording was of, was even more bitter than that. It was of him. Last wishes and hopes, in a way. Then a shot. But the words were stressed and she knew that he was in on some heinous scheme that either left him dead, as she heard on the recording, or fighting for life.
"I'm gone." She said quietly, turning on her heel, leaving the office. Her wrist ached as she flipped the phone shut. The picture on the outer display, she noticed, was of the two of them. His arm was wrapped protectively around her shoulder. "I love you." was written simply as the banner, and she knew; She knew that she would get that back, no matter what. That thought brought tears to her eyes.
And for once in four years, she let them by. They spilled down her face so all she could do was finally slump in a haze in the front seat of her SUV. Letting every emotion spill onto the steering wheel in the form of tears was her way of saying she loved him too. And that was why she was going to Happy Children Daycare.
A/N: Okay, I'm going to really try to update this one. I think I really like this. But I'll only continue if you guys like it.
Any Spelling/Grammar mistakes are all me, I've no beta. If you want to leave flames, or anything of that sort, be my guest. Happy review are welcomed too. :)
Lots of Love,
Zooey
