I do not own Bones.
I also spent some time fixing some old stories where chapters were uploaded to the wrong story. The Sequel to the Story should make more sense now…
This will somewhat follow The Image in the Tierney but if you haven't read that (shame on you!) then I'll bring you up to speed so you can still enjoy this one. (Though you really should real all my stories and when I'm famous I'll buy you a Coke!) Well, I'm a little fussy today aren't I? Okay, so "in our previous episode" Booth tries to kill Sweets in order to protect him but of course Sweets didn't know that at the time and just figured Booth was trying to kill him when he hit him in the head with a shovel a few times and locked him in a box. Like you do! So when Sweets finds out the truth he understands and Booth feels bad, but it's left some tension between the two men. The fact that Sweets was kept in a box has dug up some old memories of traumatic childhood experiences of being beaten & locked in a closet. Instead of facing these issues Sweets has decided to repress them and ignore his own psychological advice to do otherwise. So here we are!
(By the way, I had thought of doing a story where Sweets sort of goes head to head or work with Patrick Jane of the Mentalist since that would be an interesting match but I don't know how many people are familiar with that show and I haven't seen it in a while so I don't know if I could do it justice. But still Sweets going up with a mean spirited psychic seemed interesting so here we go!)
Spoiler alert: I don't own the TV show Bones. If I did, based on my budget, the actors would be very upset with their salaries.
1.
The Heat in the Mercury
"Where at again?" Sweets asked walking thru the parking lot as the hot sun beat down around him.
"Geez Sweets aren't you listening?" Booth asked annoyed but then regretted having done so. It had been a few weeks since the psychologist's head injury, which didn't bother Booth as much as the fact that he was the one who had caused it. Sweets had been getting along just fine physically since the incident but everyone noticed the tension that remained between the two men. They followed Gordon Wyatt's advice that it would take time for that relationship to heal, because it's not every day your friend and part-time partner-in-crime-solving tries to kill you with a shovel and lock you in a box. Sweets was still attempting to get over that particular aspect of the incident as well - being locked in the small space, and reasons he absolutely refused to bring up to anyone, including himself.
"Sorry Sweets, I didn't mean…" Booth began but Sweets had already started talking.
"Yeah sorry it's like 100 degrees out here." Sweets said wishing he had opted for a light gray suit instead of the black one. The heat bearing down from the sun combined with the humidity made even the simplest task of walking and talking difficult.
"It's actually 107." Booth corrected him.
"Yeah, so where's the crime scene…" Sweets said and stopped again. Booth was almost concerned why the psychologist was having such a time until he continued again. "Do you hear that?" Sweets paused again. "What is that? It's like a cat fighting or something. But in the Hoover parking? What….Oh my God." Sweets voice dropped dramatically and Booth became concerned as he could hear Sweets leather soled shoes hitting the pavement as he ran.
"Sweets, what's going on?"
"Booth, there's a baby in the car!" Sweets shouted and looked around, he was alone in the parking lot. Sweets pulled on the door which was locked. "Shit! How do I get it open?" He said perhaps to himself and perhaps to Booth, he was open to fielding any options. In this heat he had to get it open…and fast.
"Sweets, I'm calling for help."
Sweets heard the noise from the phone and tried to bang it on the window but it did nothing. He had no slim Jim or key picking devices nor the time to get one.
"So, Sweets, stay on the line. But you need to get the baby out, is there something to break the window with?" Booth suggested.
Sweets looked around at a lot full of cars. His was at the far end but it would take him a long time to get there and back, too long. He jabbed his elbow into the window several times but besides earning a sore spot that would likely bruise it did little else. The baby was slowly stopping its crying.
"Oh no…no, no, no." Sweets said looking at the small infant inside, strapped into the rear facing seat. He felt helpless though only a thin sheet of glass separated them. Sweets backed up wondering if he could break the window with his feet but in a quick glance saw the car next to it had a window down an inch. Sweets stuck his fingers thru the gap and pushed the window down, unconcerned for the car's now ruined window motor. He removed the headrest from the seat and with the pointed metal ends stuck them in the ridge of the bottom of the driver's side window. He pulled the headrest back towards him. The glass punctured and then fractured and Sweets was glad he spent too much time watching the Learning Channel home alone at night on what to do when you're trapped in a sinking car.
He threw the headrest aside and reached in the broken driver's side window to press unlock and quickly opened the back door. He could tell the baby, wrapped in pink was still breathing but the heat of the car was suffocating. The car seat's arm was in the air and Sweets had difficulty between the heat, the panic and the seat design to remove the child. He could hear sounds coming from his pocket.
"Sweets!? Sweets did you get the baby?" Booth shouted, he could hear the shattering of the glass and was hopefully. Sweets picked up the phone.
"Yeah but how the hell do I get her out of the seat?" Sweets asked, his hands jittery and wanting to remove the baby though more air was now at least flowing in.
Booth imagined back to Christine's baby seat in order to instruct Sweets. "On the big arms, there's two releases, probably in red." Booth paused and could hear the 'click' of the arm going in place. "Okay, there's a harness strap across the chest, press in and release that one and another one at the bottom."
"Yeah, yeah, I got it!" Sweets said with relief. He dropped the phone as he took the baby, only a few months old from the seat. Booth was filled with relief as he quickly left the crime scene having assigned it to another agent as he left.
Booth pulled up to the scene fifteen minutes later and found a mass of emergency responders. He quickly made his way past the onlookers and police tape and entered the area. The sun had kept some people away but others were far too curious and tried to ignore the heat.
Booth spotted Sweets as he sat in the back of the ambulance with its open doors and held the baby in his arms. He was nodding as the paramedic spoke and Booth noticed Sweets held the baby tightly. Booth thought of Christine and how he never thought twice of leaving his most valued loved one with Sweets at any time. He wasn't just a free babysitter all those times, he was someone Booth trusted and then, like now, he knew Sweets would do what it took to ensure the safety of someone.
"Agent Booth?" A young agent named Riley asked approaching him upon him seconds after his arrival. "Are you going to be lead on this case?"
Booth was a little confused, he was sure someone was going to be prosecuted for leaving the child behind but that could be left up to the local authorities.
"We have an ID on the car sir. Jon Smith." Agent Riley told Booth and immediately the hairs on his neck stood, that seemed a little suspicious. "The plate suggests the car is stolen but it doesn't match this car and the vehicle identification number has been removed."
Booth knew the suspicion was mounting, who leaves a baby in a hot stolen and retagged car?
"Is the baby okay?" Booth asked eying Sweets holding the child again, slightly more relaxed this time.
"Yeah, Dr. Sweets got her out just in time." Riley answered.
"Good. Any ID yet?" Booth asked.
"No but I haven't finished yet sir, there's a bit more." Riley said moving to the back of the vehicle. Riley opened the trunk.
"Well I'm guessing that's been there a while." Booth said gazing down at the skeletal remains that were in the trunk. "And now we have a case."
Booth backed up and pulled out his phone.
"Who are you calling sir?" Riley asked.
Booth smiled at the young kid who must be new. "Dr. Temperance Brennan, brilliant anthropologist for the Jeffersonian, and consequentially, my wife."
"Agent Booth." Cam said looking up from the examination table.
"Hey Cam, you guys get an ID yet?" Booth asked anxiously as he looked over the remains on the table.
"No, not yet. The remains are female, early thirties, Caucasian." Cam explained.
"Could she be the mother?" Booth asked.
"Well the bones suggest that she has not given birth thru natural child birth but that doesn't rule out cesarean." Cam explained.
She watched as Booth nodded his head, taking in the facts. "How is the baby, and Dr. Sweets?" It was obvious to all the tension that existed between the two men but they continued to work professionally together.
"Good." Booth said as Brennan approached the platform and nodded to her. "He took the baby to a social worker who will place her in a foster home. He went there to check out the foster home."
"Is that protocol?" Cam asked confused.
"I believe that Dr. Sweets has reservations with foster homes." Brennan said. "I would agree with his actions."
Booth smiled that while she and Sweets hardly agreed on psychology and its place in crime solving, or its very existence, they did however have an unspoken agreement on the horrors of the foster care system. He felt badly for them both, for himself and the childhoods they all had, though strove to make different for those they came in contact with, like this baby.
Cam noticed the solemn reflective expressions on both Brennan & Booth's faces and while it interested her, she chose not to implore more.
"I've got it!" Angela announced while approaching them, paper raised in her hand thru the air like torch. She stood with them on the platform and began to read. "The facial reconstruction got a hit. Isabella Karaet, 32."
"How come she didn't pop up in missing persons?" Booth asked.
"Yes, I would say the decay here is over a week old." Cam said.
"Might have to ask her husband, Phillip Karaet." Angela suggested. "And yes, the baby is hers, Anna Karaet, born six months ago."
"Do we have cause of death?" Booth asked.
"No, I'm working on that now." Brennan said stepping forward towards the remains.
"Well I'll go and question the husband." Booth said turning to leave.
"You might want to take Sweets with you." Angela suggested causing Booth to pause.
Booth wondered if this was another attempt to get them to spend time together, move past the whole 'almost killing him' thing.
"Phillip Karaet is a noted psychic." Angela added with a smile.
Great. Booth said to himself. Yep, definitely taking Sweets.
The temperature was over a hundred but it was feeling a bit icy in the SUV. Booth cleared his throat.
"So the baby, uh, Anna, you got her to the foster home, it checked out okay?" Booth asked hoping to start a conversation that might include something other than a profile or a corpse.
"Yeah, it went fine." Sweets said looking out the window. He hadn't been out in the field with Booth for a while. The call this morning would have involved him meeting him there but the baby in the car changed that. Now he was back, having to face time alone with Booth again. He wondered if it were engineered by another one of the team or if it were fate. Oh fate he laughed to himself. Probably something this so called psychic would play on pretty heavily. He had a distaste for psychics, probably the same way Brennan had a distaste for psychology. The thought soured in his mind.
"Well I'm glad you checked the place out." Booth said trying to elongate the conversation.
"Of course!" Sweets said sharply. Rationally he knew Booth was trying to start a conversation but Sweets was busy thinking how to handle the clairvoyant and also repress angry feelings about the view of his profession by his peers. Unfortunately Booth would bear the brunt of his mood at the moment. Booth wasn't pleased.
"Well I think it's a good thing is all." Booth said narrowing his eyes at the young doctor but instead he opted for tact. "Bones, she was glad you did too."
"Well aren't I glad that Dr. Brennan finally approves of the things that I do." Sweets said sarcastically. He could tell Booth wasn't going to give up on a conversation so he changed the subject to the one thing he knew they were comfortable with and could handle discussing- cases.
"So this guy, what did you say his name was?" Sweets asked. He was sure he knew the name but it made for a good segway.
Booth welcomed it. "Phillip Karaet. He didn't report his wife missing and as of yet hasn't even questioned where his baby is."
"Hopefully the child can stay with foster care until he proves he can take care of the baby." Sweets said thinking about the innocent child he held.
"He seems pretty into his career." Booth said taking the next left. "He's performing on whatever he wants to call it at the Liberty Theater. I figured he would be more than happy to have us drop in." Booth added sarcastically.
"I'm sure he will. These types are all ridiculous." Sweets said thinking of Karaet and his 'profession.' "They prey on people for their money and then with false hopes and unrealistic expectations they come to realize it too late."
"Well sure." Booth said. He was glad a conversation was going. "Hopefully we can find something to at least make the guy look bad."
Sweets laughed and Booth asked why. "Oh, I was just thinking that Dr. Brennan would equate me to being the same charlatan. Taking people's money and giving them false hopes in return."
"No, you know that's not true, you help people because you want to and besides you don't charge." Booth rationalized.
"If I had a private practice it would be the same." Sweets thought of the parallels.
"You have an honest intention to help people, it's different."
"Maybe." Sweets mulled it over, maybe he was really just a charlatan in sheep's clothing. "Anyway, I'll guess we'll find out what his intentions are. Looks like we're here."