(This takes place a weeks after Change In The Game.)
Prompt: Booth and Brennan are called out to a crime scene at the Lincoln Memorial. The victim is a clown and Booth has to deal with the ramifications of his growing clown phobia.
I don't own Bones.
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Booth had been asleep for about four hours when he got the phone call. Lying in bed with his arms around Brennan, he opened his eyes just wide enough to look at the clock on Brennan's night stand. Seeing the time, Booth closed his eyes and decided that he wasn't answering the phone at three in the morning, no way. He had just finished up a case at 9:30 that evening and he hadn't completed the paper work on that case, yet. The FBI had other agents, let whoever was calling him, call one of them instead.
While Booth was desperately trying to ignore the phone, Brennan decided she had enough. "Either answer the phone, Booth or let me go so I can answer it. Who ever is calling is obviously not going to give up."
Refusing to open his eyes and acknowledge that he was awake, Booth just held Brennan tighter.
Irritated with his obstinance, Brennan reached up and pinched his arm. "Booth, if you're awake enough to tighten your grip on me then you're awake enough to answer the phone."
Resigned, Booth sighed, removed his arms from around his partner and rolled over onto his back. Blindly reaching out to his phone, Booth took the call will ill grace. "This is Booth, you better have a damn good reason for waking me up at three in the morning."
Listening to the agent on the other end, Booth knew that his day was going to be a long one. Agent Penn explained patiently that a body had been found at the Lincoln Memorial about an hour ago. The body was in horrible condition and they definitely needed his partner's expertise.
His hand seeking his partner's hip, Booth patted her while he told Penn that he would be at the crime scene in about an hour, with his partner.
Hearing the last part of Booth's conversation, Brennan pulled her blanket over her head and tried to pretend she hadn't heard. She was so tired and this call was very inconvenient.
Amused, Booth ended his call and laughed at his partner's attempt to ignore their call to duty. Rolling over onto his side, Booth pulled the blanket from her face and leaned over her. "Just remember, you were the one that insisted that I answer the phone, partner. By the way, since you're the reason why I was called at this ungodly hour, I'm supposed to call you and let you know we have a case. Consider this your call." Her eyes closed tightly, Booth smiled at his partners refusal to move. Not to be ignored, he got on his knees and hovering over her, clapped his hands. "Chop chop . . . we've got a case."
Not amused at all, Brennan rolled over onto her back, grabbed Booth's arm and pulled him down next to her.
Laughing, moved his hand so that it covered her stomach. Making small circles on her bare skin, Booth nuzzled her neck. "You know . . . if you'd just tell everyone we're living together it would make our lives a whole lot easier."
She knew he wanted to tell everyone about their relationship change, but right now she was content to have him all to herself. She knew it was selfish, but she didn't care. "Not yet, Booth. We're still trying to get adjusted to our new relationship. I don't want any extra scrutiny from our friends or the FBI. We still have time to make the announcement. We've only been living together for four weeks."
Disappointed, Booth kissed her. "It's up to you, Bones. Whenever you're ready, just let me know."
Nodding her head, Brennan returned his kiss. "I think we'd better get out of bed now or we might end up arriving at the crime scene much later than we're supposed to."
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An hour later, they arrived at the Lincoln Memorial and found that the crime scene was very busy. Booth grabbed Brennan's crime scene kit from the back of his truck and started walking up the steps, eager to get this part of his job over. Brennan annoyed with Booth, walked quickly up the steps, caught up with Booth and made a grab for her bag. "I can carry my own kit, Booth."
After almost dropping the bag, Booth stopped, looked at the steps and then at Brennan. "I can carry it, Bones. The steps are steep and you could fall."
Shaking her head, Brennan protested, "Don't be ridiculous, Booth. I won't fall." Grabbing her kit from his hand, Brennan proceeded to walk up the steps.
Hodgins, who had been waiting for Brennan and Booth, saw the entire exchange and was puzzled about the agent's behavior. He keeps doing that lately. I wonder what's up.
Brennan, arriving at the crime scene first, was a little surprised to see what was lying before her. The dismembered victim was lying on his back. His head had been separated from his body and it was presently lying on his chest. Squatting down next to the body Brennan leaned closer and could see that his teeth had been pulled out. To make matters worse, someone had gone to the trouble of snipping off his fingertips. She had seen worse, but for some reason, she was feeling a little nauseous this time. Standing up and looking back at the top of the steps, Brennan stepped to the side and waited for Booth to finish climbing the steps. She knew he was taking his time because viewing dead bodies wasn't exactly his favorite part of the job.
When Booth finally reached the top of the steps, he got his first look at the victim and froze in place. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Brennan had known that Booth would probably have just this reaction, so when he stopped and stared at the body, she walked over to where he was standing. "Booth." Not getting any response, she stepped in between Booth and the body so he was no longer able to see it.
Startled, Booth looked up at Brennan and gave her a weak smile. "Seriously? . . . A clown?"
Afraid that someone would notice reaction, Brennan tried to assure him, to make him comfortable with the crime scene. "But he's dead, Booth. There isn't anything to worry about . . . He's dead and that's all you need to know."
Grateful that she was giving him time to collect himself, Booth nodded his head, his eyes on her lovely blue eyes. "Yeah, you're right . . . I wasn't really worried though. I was just caught off guard . . . just . . . that's all."
Hodgins knew that Booth hated, if not feared clowns, so he had made sure that he had a good view when Booth finally saw the body. Booth had reacted just like he thought he would. He also didn't want to embarrass the agent so he remained silent and tried not to show any emotion on his face.
Since Booth was now collected and he appeared to be alright, Brennan turned around, walked back over to the victim and started to examine the body once more.
Looking up at Booth, Brennan kept her tone professional. "This obviously is not the initial crime scene. Just a quick glance at the victim tells me that he's been moved."
Once Brennan started to examine the body, Hodgins turned towards Booth and pointed at the body. "Why would anyone dump a body here? It's seems like a pretty dumb place to do that. Whoever did it took a big risk that someone would see them . . . I mean it's a tourist site, for crying out loud."
Tearing his eyes from the mutilated corpse, Booth turned his attention on to Hodgins. "Not at one or two in the morning. Whoever did it probably did it to make a statement. Remember the time that body was dumped at the Washington Monument . . on the scaffolding? The killer did it because he considered his brother-in-law to be a world class liar and he wanted people to know that. He figured that George Washington's reputation for telling the truth would point out just how bad his brother-in-law really was and that he had done the world a favor. There is always a reason why."
Not sure he understood the criminal mind, Hodgins leaned over the body with Brennan and studied it. He knew he would have to wait for Brennan to finish before doing his part of the examination, but he was in no hurry. He had already looked around the body, for several yards and had collected every bit of trash and particulates he could find.
Not used to Booth being silent at crime scenes, Hodgins turned his gaze towards the agent and saw him staring at the victim. "What's wrong, Booth?"
Shaking his head, Booth seemed to be unable to keep his eyes off of the specter before him. "Nothing . . . I was just thinking."
Her initial examination over, Brennan looked at her partner. "We'll have to take the body back to the lab. We should be able to identify the victim even though someone did go through a lot of effort to try to make that harder for us."
Stunned, Hodgins realized that he knew who the victim was. Standing he looked at Booth and then at Brennan. "Wait a minute. Don't you know who this is?"
Shaking their heads, Booth and Brennan stared at Hodgins wondering what was going on.
With a look of horror on his face, Hodgins slowly shook his head. "This is Uncle Billy Bob . . . Come on, don't you recognize him?"
Confused, Brennan shook her head. "Why would I know what your uncle looks like? I didn't even know you had an uncle."
Just as confused as Brennan was, Booth shrugged his shoulders. "Just because you say you know him doesn't mean I know him, Bug Boy."
Patiently, Hodgins stared at the head sitting on top of the torso and felt a little ill. "He's not my uncle, Dr. B. He's Uncle Billy Bob . . . You know, from the Uncle Billy Bob TV show."
Seeing blank looks, Hodgins continued, "Come on, the guy was almost as famous as Captain Kangaroo. He had a kid's show on TV for over fifteen years at 3:30 p.m., every weekday afternoon. I watched his show, every day, when I got home from school."
Brennan looked at the victim and sighed. "I didn't watch children's television when I was growing up. My parents thought it would affect my intelligence. My Dad said it would lower my IQ by at least twenty points."
Booth could care less if the clown was famous or not. He was a fucking clown. "Why the hell would I watch a clown on TV? That's not my idea of a good show."
A piece of his childhood now gone, Hodgin shook his head and moved his gaze toward the statue of Lincoln. "OKay, just take my word for it. This guy is famous. This is going to be big news when the press finds out . . . I mean it's Uncle Billy Bob."
Not happy with that bit of new, Booth glared at the dead clown. "Terrific."
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