A/N -- This is my first try at writing Bones Fiction, or any fan fiction for that matter. Previously I had stuck to fictional characters created in my head.
Thank you to Di, Jane and ScienceGeek2587 for your thoughts and opinions. Extra thanks for taking the time to Beta for me.
I hope you like it! Please read and review - good or bad, I can handle the criticism!
Disclaimer-- I don't own Bones or any of the characters. This story is strictly for entertainment purposes. Bones is owned by Fox and it's affiliates.
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Brennan sat on the floor, her bent legs pulled against her chest, her head resting on her knees.
So much has changed since Booth's Coma, she thought.
Their first case had been awkward, filled with tension – one she just wanted to forget.
The case itself was an 'office day' type of case.
It was the non-case elements of those days that were circling her thoughts refusing to be silenced. The most prominent being Booth's declaration.
Her heart skipped a beat at the thought – irrational she knew, but she felt it all the same.
When Booth had uttered "I love you", the rational part of her was thinking, Love is transcendent and emotional, but deep down, the young-girl-turned-woman was coming to life – wanting so badly to have someone love her, accept her and never leave her.
THAT part of her had been ready to admit the truth that she had known for some time, but had been unwilling to acknowledge it or allow herself the luxury of believing herself worthy of it.
Temperance Brennan was in Love
With Him
Special Agent Seeley Booth
But stunned as she was, no words had came out.
Then when Booth followed that heart-stopping statement with "In a professional Atta-girl kind of way", that girl-turned-woman shrank back down, subdued once more.
Seeing the expectant look on Booth's face, she had uttered the first thing she could, "Right back at you Booth. I Love you too! Atta Boy". All the while thinking, I AM obviously unworthy.
She had not believed that psychic either – how could she trust a bunch of pictures painted onto cardboard pieces?
Hard facts, irrefutable Science – that was her belief.
However she had no explanation for the fact that the psychic knew of her pregnancy – a pregnancy that was only in her book and Booth's coma dream. It just did not make sense and as a scientist it still baffled her. That and the statement the psychic made before leaving at the end of the case, "Sometimes you have to settle for second best. My cards tell me that all this works out eventually." She had even badgered Booth into an explanation and all he would say was "I've always told you Bones. Everything happens eventually."
Clank!
Brennan shrank back against the wall, pulling at the chains that held her feet to her wrists– wrists rubbed raw and bleeding from her attempts to escape. She ignored the pain that shot through her arms at the motion, instead concentrating on the rational way to deal with her captor. Attempts on her part to rationalize her release to him had, so far, been met with stoic silence.
A crack of light suddenly appeared at Brennan's toes, causing her heart to skip for an entirely different reason – this one totally adrenaline based.
The crack slowly became larger, travelling up her legs and stomach to end on her eyes, requiring Brennan to duck her head – her eyes struggling to handle the light after the pitch black darkness. Forcing her eyes to adjust she noticed her watch out the corner of her eye. A splinter of light shone upon the face of it. Oh my god. Had it really been that long? This is not good. Booth will not be pleased.
Brennan wondered if Booth had actually received the text message she had managed to send before being captured from the ships control room – or Bridge as the Navy calls it.
Brennan did not really believe in faith, but, she believed in Booth, and his ability to rescue her every time.
Brennan could hear her captor moving around; could feel the air brush her cheek every time they passed by her. Judging by the footsteps, heavy and uneven, she deduced the person was male.
The clinking and scrunching noises led Brennan to decide it was a tray of food that was being prepared.
Brennan knew she would not be eating today. I can not guarantee the food has not been tampered with.
She shook off the hunger pains and decided to push one more time for an answer;
"Why am I here?" Brennan demanded, lifting her head slightly to help her eyes adjust quicker.
Silence.
Temperance, think rationally.
"My partner is an FBI Special Agent, and he will not hesitate to shoot first and ask questions later, without any consideration to your cause or the reason you kidnapped and held me hostage. In conclusion it would be beneficial to you and your cause to let me go."
Silence.
Brennan closed her eyes and prepared herself for an assault from her captor as she heard his footsteps stop directly beside her. She could feel his breath near her cheek. He had knelt down. Suddenly her eyes sprung open and glistened with sudden tears as her hair was yanked from behind forcing her to cry out for a split second, then the feeling of his breath just near her ear as her captor leaned closer.
Brennan blinked her eyes rapidly, feeling better as they had now adjusted to the bright light from the doorway. Inwardly she hoped to also rid her eyes of moisture so as not to give her captor any more satisfaction by seeing tears in them.
She tried to turn her head to look at her captor only to find her head forcibly swiveled back towards the light. A hand on her jaw, and another still holding her hair kept her head victim to her captor.
She felt a large blast of hot air to her ear as her captor sighed then spoke.
Definitely male, she concluded.
His voice, gravelly and high-strung, was enough to send chills down her spine.
"Oh yes… Dr Temperance Brennan… World-renowned anthropologist; top selling author… a fine gift to present to—Oh what do we have here…?"
As Brennan felt his hand travel down the side of her body, her natural instinct was to slap his hand away, get up and put him on the floor with a series of karate moves. She had to rein in those instincts. She forced her body to relax, unwilling to let him feel the effect he had on her.
His hand reached into her pocket, pulling out the now illuminated mobile phone.
I really should have turned that off...
"Interesting, as to your last sent message Dr Brennan. All will be revealed shortly."
Brennan resisted the urge to snatch back the phone and check to see if the message had indeed gone through and, more importantly, if she had received anything back.
BANG!
BANG!
Her captor started to chuckle, "Oh, oh. You stay here my pretty; I think the big bad FBI agent is awake and angry…" and with a final tug on her hair, released it and stalked to the door. "Oh, and don't bother trying to yell for Agent Booth – he won't hear you. You are all alone Dr. Brennan… or shall I call you Bones..." Then with a resounding clunk and scrape of the lock being activated, he was gone.
As he was leaving Brennan noticed he was of a slim build and had light long hair. She was frustratingly unable to ascertain more details due to the light creating a silhouette only.
Brennan felt physically sick at the thought of this person having Booth.
Arrrgh! Booth is my partner and I can't do anything to help him! She wondered if Booth had been captured after receiving her message and coming after her.
Her stomach turning at the thought of the drugs needed to knock out a large, physically fit man like Booth and, more worryingly, if they would have any effect on his recent brain operation.
Brennan made up her mind.
While her captor was busy with Booth, although she had yet to see proof that it actually was Booth, Brennan was going to find any means necessary to get free.
Vaguely she remembered what Booth had taught her about picking locks. She had her hair tied back today with the few errant strands being secured by some pins.
Pins she could use to try and pick the lock!
Grateful for something to occupy her thoughts, rather than dwelling on Booth possibly being chained like her, she set about trying the pins as fast as she could.
CHINK!
Yes! Success!
Pulling the shackles off her ankles, Brennan made quick work of the ones around her wrists as well. Standing up, she could feel the weight of the shackles literally fall away.
Brennan had to think of a plan, and fast.
The moans and shouts were fading away as Brennan crept towards the door to gauge if her door was watched or not. Holding the shackles in one hand and her ear pressed up to the door, she gave a short sharp pull on the shackles and dropped them on the floor.
The small section of the door opened.
A curse-like was spoken 'Vittu!'– A language Brennan had no knowledge in.
CLANK!
Brennan's body subconsciously took on the fighter's stance that comes from years of disciplined karate classes. Her mind cleared automatically. Primary goal – eliminate the threat.
The door swung open, causing Brennan to breathe in to avoid being squashed behind the door.
Brennan tensed as she heard footsteps enter the room, a beam of light flickering here and there as the holder of the torch searched for her. Suddenly they cried out – 'Hän on poissa! Löytää Hänet!'
The light beam went dark; footsteps started closing in on where she is hiding.
The door swung away from her and the beam was suddenly flashed in her direction.
Temporarily blinded by the light she kicked towards the source, triumphant when her foot connected with hard flesh.
Brennan heard the pained groan and saw the beam stumble backwards – enough room for her to slip out and run towards the door.
Brennan fell as her foot was gripped and pulled down. She kicked her other foot down parallel to the captured one – hitting what she presumed was a face – judging by the exclamation from her target. She got up and ran towards the open door, adrenaline pumping through her body.
Brennan grabbed the door and swung it shut behind her, pulling the latch across to lock it and trapping whom she presumed to be the captor in the room.
As she took off around the corner, she could hear her Captor banging on the door hatch.
Satisfied she had taken care of the threat, she started towards the other end of the ship and possibly Booth.
There.
Brennan headed towards the moans, anticipating her reunion with Booth.
She rounded the corner into what looked like the ship's galley, searching for the source of the moans, not wanting them to be Booth. Seeing the large, walk-in fridge door ajar, she dashed over, pulling the door wide - her heart pounding.
Stunned, she stumbled backwards.
I can't breathe…
Booth…
Brennan struggled to breathe as she took in the fridge contents; from the blood on the floor leading to the source – Booth's head, to the still form of Booth, to the fake moans coming from the figure standing beside Booth.
Brennan looked down and took in the crimson stain now spreading across her shirtfront and looked back up at the female figure. At the gun in her hand that had just shot her.
She would recognize Booth's weapon anywhere.
Brennan collapsed onto the floor, watching the shooter wipe the gun and place it in Booth's still fingers, then walk out laughing.
Struggling against the pain in her middle, she tried to formulate a plan to show the authorities Booth himself, did not discharge his weapon at her. She did not want Parker to remember Booth that way. She couldn't think clearly and it was frustrating her – the pain was excruciating.
As Brennan lay there feeling the coldness seeping throughout her body, thoughts were running rampant in her mind. If only I had told all those I care about that I do believe in love and that it wasn't transcendent - it was real and I consider all those people my family.
Brennan remembered that missed opportunity she had had to tell Booth her real feelings. All those other chances she had had flashed through her mind like a movie clip, ending with the feeling she had experienced when Booth had held her and told her "I got you, baby".
She berated herself for not seeing that the clues in this case had been staring them in the face two days earlier. Looking back now how did I miss them? She recalled the odd feeling she had at the start of this case, somewhat similar to Booth's 'gut instinct' - one feeling she should have listened to.
Brennan looked over towards Booth, noting his still body. Many times she had guarded her heart against hurt, but this time she couldn't – didn't want to – stop the feeling that her heart was shredding apart.
Oh, Booth…
It had all started with Booth's early morning phone call two days earlier…