One more case had just been closed, and Dr. Brennan was making her way to her office to finish a few emails. The poor victim had had no way of anticipating her murder, it was rather sad. She had been targeted by accident, mistaken for someone else.
Booth had handled the situation beautifully, Brennan thought as she entered her office, pulling off her lab coat. She had every intention of going straight to her desk, but paused a few feet into the room, startled. A girl of about seventeen was in her office. Pacing the floor, arms straight out at her sides, the teenager was smiling at her own feet.
"What are you doing in my office?" Brennan asked bluntly. The girl let a short, high-pitched scream escape her as she looked up and clutched her chest, then began to laugh loudly.
"You startled me, Dr. Brennan!" she cried, louder than was necessary. Brennan's eyes widened in confusion at the girl's behavior. "My Aunt Angela works here, I was just pacing your floor."
"Why?"
"I liked the wood."
"That is no reason to intrude into another person's space without that person being present," Brennan replied. "I don't--"
"Did you ever really look at this floor, though?" The girl interrupted, crouching down and stroking the wood. Her eyes were darting around the entire surface of it, taking it in like a painting. "It's gorgeous, the way the grain goes and the way it's..." she rotated her head and moved her hands above the wood's surface, searching for the right word, "...nicely crafted." she finished vaguely, standing again. She put her arms back out by her sides and began walking on one plank of wood like a balance beam. Brennan stared.
"Why are you doing that?" she asked, flabbergasted.
"I feel like it," the girl replied, continuing to place one foot carefully in front of the other and wobbling a little.
"That doesn't make any sense. Why is it that you want to pace my floor?"
"My mind wants to do a lot of things that are not logical or rational, Dr. Brennan," the teenager answered simply, looking up. "I try not to question it."
Brennan's eyes widened at this. Surely all actions made sense somehow. This girl must have been confused.
"Oh my gosh, I bet I'm your absolute worst nightmare." She grinned impishly, dropping her arms and looking at Brennan. "My aunt has told me about you. You like it when people's actions make sense. Argue when they don't."
"That's not true!" Brennan argued. "Please leave my office. I am very busy."
But the girl wasn't listening. She had turned her attention toward the window on the other side of the room. She was standing as if to face Brennan, but had turned the top half of her body more than ninety degrees to stare out the window.
"Did you hear that woodpecker?" she cried before quite literally prancing toward the window.
"No, I didn't, why are you walking like that?"
"I have no idea," the teenager answered absent-mindedly, fumbling with the lock. Brennan was getting frustrated, but was also curious.
"You must have had a reason. You danced across the room."
"Did I? Ha, I did! Didn't notice until you mentioned it. Come here, look at this bird, it's huge!" she said, motioning for the doctor to join her and leaning out the window. Brennan slowly approached the window, but not to look at the bird. She wanted an explanation.
"Your pacing the floor, and...prancing, they don't make any sense."
The girl slowly pulled herself back in through the window and turned to look at Dr. Brennan.
"I know." She spoke with determination.
"I don't understand," Brennan said.
"Neither do I, just go with it," was the cheerful answer. The girl turned to the window again. "I thought you hated psychology," she added, a question in her tone.
"Who said anything about psychology? I just want to know why you were prancing like that."
Her eyes lit up as she assessed Brennan and asked playfully, "why do you think I pranced?"
Brennan stopped to think. "You were in a hurry, afraid the bird would fly away." She decided.
"That would justify speed walking or jogging. Not prancing."
Brennan exhaled thoughtfully. "You were excited to see the bird."
The teenager put a hand to her chin and spoke in a deep, acted voice.
"Yes, but what did I wish to achieve by prancing?" she asked, stroking an imaginary beard.
"I don't know what you're doing."
"Just play along, this is fun!"
"No it isn't. You need to leave now." Brennan went over to her desk and picked up the nearest file. She sat on her couch with it, trying to look busy.
"Oh, come on!"
"This is childish."
A laugh from the door cause the pair to look up.
"Leah, what are you doing?" Angela asked.
"Just discussing prancing with Dr. Brennan."
"Prancing?"
"Yep!" The girl smiled and rushed over to her aunt, speaking very quickly. "Are you done with your hologram thingy? Can I play with you hologram thingy?"
"Oh, that's not a toy," Brennan said. The equipment at the Jeffersonian was very expensive and not a plaything for hyper teenagers. She was sure Angela would agree, but the artist patted her niece on the back and told her to have fun. The girl fluttered out the door without a look back.
Angela sat down next to Brennan looked at her sympathetically.
"Are you okay, sweetie? Leah is quite the free spirit."
"Why does she move like that? She doesn't understand her own actions, that can't be good." Brennan was still confused by what had happened. "Is she going to hurt your equipment? Maybe you should keep an eye on her."
"She's careful, she'll be fine. You could learn from her, you know," Angela told her. "Sometimes it's good to follow your whims and do whatever you feel like doing, even if you don't know why."
"But that's not logical. What if she wants to hurt someone and doesn't know why?"
"Restraint and respect play a role in her whimsy. Leah is an honor student and president of her senior class. She has a very quick mind that is logical when she wants it to be. She's going to go to Yale. She's special. Why does absolutely everything have to be logical to you?"
"I can explain why I do everything I do."
"Why would you want to? What's life without spontaneity? Come on," Angela said as she pulled her unwilling friend off the couch by the wrist and dragged her out the door. "Leah is going to teach you something."
Brennan followed her friend into her office where Leah was fiddling with Angela's holographic image simulator. She was creating an image of an electric guitar that suggested that she had Angela's artistic talent. She was highly focused on the computer pad in the crook of her arm as the guitar rotated slowly.
"Leah, that's gorgeous," Angela praised her niece, who smiled without looking up. "Hey, tell Dr. Brennan your motto."
"When all else fails, read the directions?" Leah asked, turning her attention to Angela.
"No, the saying about your mind." Angela clarified. Leah put down the computer pad and looked straight at Brennan.
"My mind is like a beautiful symphony that has foolishly incorporated a chorus of screaming cats," she stated.
Realization dawned on Brennan. She had read about this.
"Oh! You have ADHD."
"There it is! Took you long enough. Angela, I thought you said she was smart." Leah smirked as she taunted.
"It makes sense now, Brennan continued. "People with ADHD often hold on to childish tendencies into adulthood. That's why you were fascinated by my floor and that bird, children are naturally curious. And, you do seem to feel the need to be in constant motion."
"Oh, now you're just offending her," Angela said to Brennan. But Leah bounced on the balls of her feet as she exchanged a meaningful look with her aunt, who smiled.
"We have to do it, Leah." The artist prompted.
The smile that spread across the girl's face rivaled that of a child who had just found out she was going to Disney World. She could hardly contain her excitement.
"Follow me, Dr. Brennan," she blurted out very fast. "I have to show you something!"
With that, she ran out the door. Angela followed her at a walk, smiling, but Brennan didn't move. She was not going to play childish games. She had emails to write and paper work to finish. She had every intention of going to her office instead of following her friend's hyper niece when she exited, but Leah had rushed back into the room and, much to Angela's amusement, grabbed Brennan's hand.
"Come on! Do you want to be boring?"
"I'm not boring," Brennan protested, but allowed herself to be dragged away. Leah's positive energy was beginning an effect on her, and she couldn't help but wonder where they were going.
It was to one of the green lawns at the Jeffersonian that Leah led Brennan and Angela. When she had let go of Brennan, she jogged down the grass in a straight line and looked around, making sure of something. She did a little leap on the way back. The trio was not alone; there were two people sitting on a nearby bench.
"What are we doing here?" Brennan asked.
"You are going to find your inner child," Leah announced. "I've already made Angela do this, and I believe it benefited her," she continued scientifically. Brennan chuckled at her use of language, but looked to her friend for a confirmation. Angela nodded.
"You need this, sweetie." Angela said. "You're too uptight."
Brennan looked once more at Leah, who looked back with pleading eyes.
"You guys planned this!" Brennan realized out loud.
"Yep!" Leah replied. "Do exactly as I do, watch me." Leah closed her eyes and slowly lifted her arms out to her sides like airplane wings. She took a deep breath and began running. It was not a focused run, like a person exercising, but a disorganized, flailing run. After a few yards, she began to swerve off her straight path, consciously zig-zagging across the lawn. With each step, her gait became more erratic.
Brennan was very aware of the strangers sitting on the nearby bench, watching Angela's niece with amused faces. Angela was smiling.
Leah did a little jump toward the end of the lawn and spun around in the air, landing with her feet together facing Brennan and Angela. "Your turn!" She shouted.
"No," Brennan said quietly to Angela, shaking her head. "People are staring."
"Since when do you care what people think?" Angela asked. The artist put her arms out and followed Leah's lead, complete with swerving movements. She high-fived her niece when she got to the other side and they both came running back, pretending to be airplanes.
"This is childish," Brennan said stubbornly, crossing her arms.
"I know," Leah replied. "I'm seventeen, people always tell me when I act like I'm nine. I can tell the difference by this point."
"But why act this way?" Brennan asked, glancing at the strangers, who were watching with curiosity.
"Because it's fun! I can think of no negative consequences to this. Not one. So those people think we're weird, who cares?" She pointed right at the people on the bench. Angela shot her a kind but reproachful look. "Oh, sorry, shouldn't have pointed," she finished.
Brennan had to admit to herself that she could not think of any negative consequences either. She would never see these people again. And though she had no strong desire to return to childhood games, it would be difficult to explain to herself why she shouldn't do it just this once.
As Leah watched, waiting, pleading, Brennan took a step forward and lifted her arms. She closed her eyes and began to move her feet. Soon, she was running full speed, wind whipping her hair around her face. She noticed the smell of grass for the first time. She was flying. She felt herself smile and began to swerve, and the thought of the spectators' watchful eyes was pushed a little to the side. This was exhilarating.
She stopped when she thought she was close to the edge of the lawn. She opened her eyes and turned, looking through strands of hair that had fallen in her face. Angela had her arm around Leah and they were both grinning ear to ear as Brennan extended her arms once more and zoomed back to them.