Why Wicked Witch Wick Was Whacked
or
Ding Dong Daisy's a Dead Duck
"Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn't."
Mark Twain
In retrospect, everything was obvious. Well, not obvious but there had been clear indications. Perhaps not indications so much as hints. Maybe not actually hints but certainly inklings. Okay, okay…what happened came out of the clear blue sky…literally.
Brennan and Booth were having a light lunch at the diner. She observed that Booth definitely had something on his mind and inwardly smirked that she could "read him like a manuscript", metaphorically.
"Booth, what's bothering you? You look very pensive."
"I was just thinking about Sweets and Daisy. Their relationship and…"
"I really don't want to talk about them, her, that!"
"Its really a bit creepy, if you ask me."
"And I didn't and won't, ever! Ask about them that is."
"Don't you think that their relationship is a bit weird?"
"And the talk just keeps on coming. Booth, let's just have a nice, quiet, lunch and erase Sweets and Daisy from your cerebral cortex. They have entered into a social contract, as unlikely as that would seem between two people with such disparate backgrounds."
Booth just looked at her (You know that look he gets. That "I know you're a genius and all but my gut is telling me something is wrong". That look when his eyes get just a hint of a squint and he purses his lips, just a little bit, cocks his head to one side and shifts in his seat, sort of squares his shoulders…where was I?)
Booth dropped it, sort of. They finished their lunch; Brennan went back to work and Booth returned to The Hoover, but not to his office. Instead he dropped by Sweets' office.
Over the years, Booth had come to think of Sweets as a little brother. Sort of Jared lite. (A case could be made that that made Sweets "Booth extra lite", but not in this universe.) Anyway, Booth had made a habit of dropping by to say "Hey!" almost every day. He wasn't quite sure why but somehow he felt that Sweets was his "responsibility" and Booth was really big on responsibility.
When he poked his head into Sweets office, Daisy was there (quelle surprise)! She was, without a doubt, the most annoying, irritating, infuriating, exasperating, maddening, get your blood pressure up into the ionosphere human he had ever met. That Sweets found any redeemable quality in her was beyond belief. It was as though he was under a spell of some type. That's when the light bulb went off, his gut gave a little twitch and something clicked into place.
"You need me for something Agent Booth?"
"Nope. Just popped into say 'Hey'."
"I was just leaving. Lunch is over and I have to get back to work at the lab. See you tonight my Lancelot." Daisy gave Sweets a quick peck on the cheek and beat a hasty retreat.
Booth's spidey sense kicked in to high gear. "I make her nervous, don't I?" asked Booth.
"No, no. Not at all. She is just so diligent regarding…well, maybe, just a little."
"Sorry about that. Say, Sweets, you still have that pendent thingy that Daisy brought back from Maluku?"
"Sure" answered Sweets, pulling it out from under his shirt where he wore it on a thin chain. "Its not really my style, but Daisy was so excited about it and well, you know how her face just lights up and her eyes get all…" Sweets drifted off into another dimension.
Booth snapped his fingers if front of Sweets' face, clapped his hands and finally got his attention.
"Sorry. What were we talking about?"
"Bones likes old things. I thought I might get her something like that for her birthday. Let me take a good look." Booth took a really good look. It was about the size of a silver dollar, made of some metal he could not identify and had some faint runic symbols.
Back in his office, Booth went to work. First he made a detailed drawing of the "thingy" (he had an uncanny knack for free hand sketching), scanned it, attached the scan to an e-mail to an e-mail asking: "Is this what I think it is?" It didn't take long to get a response.
"Well hello! Been awhile. If you think this is a talisman used to direct spells to a specific target, then you're right. This is very old, dawn of time type thing. Where did you run across it?"
Booth responded" "Found it around the neck of a friend of mine. What kind of spell?"
An IM popped up. "Not sure. Your friend acting strange?"
"That's an understatement. How can the spell be broken? Just remove the talisman?"
"Not that easy. The simple explanation is that to break the spell you have to break the spellcaster."
"Break as in….what?"
"Erase, eliminate, eradicate, exterminate…I'm out of 'Es', but you get the idea."
"Yep. Can you handle that?"
"Need you even ask? I'll be there is a jiffy."
Before Booth could even reply there was this glowy, swirly, holey thingy in his office and his correspondent appeared.
"Wow. That was fast."
"Just a little astral projection. No big whoop. You're looking good. Less 'broody' and haven't aged a bit. Still helping the helpless?"
"As best I can. What do you need to know?"
Who is the spellee and who's the speller?"
"Huh? Oh, you mean who had the whammy put on them and who is the whammer?"
Booth filled his old friend in with all the information he had along with a great deal of speculation and gut feelings. "It just doesn't make any sense. There is just no way that anyone could be that mesmerized by Daisy (now known as 'The Whammer') without some supernatural intervention."
"Sounds like both a 'binding' and 'lusting' spell; very powerful. Just how far are you willing to go to unwhammy your friend?"
"What ever it takes."
"We just have to get her somewhere outside. If you can handle that, then I can take it from there."
"I don't know if I can get her anywhere alone. If she isn't working, she is with Sweets."
"Sweets?"
"The whammee."
"She doesn't have to be alone, just outside."
"Okay then. Tomorrow at 1 PM on The Mall by the Reflecting Pool."
"Just leave the rest to me."
Booth trotted back to Sweets' office and hatched the plot. "Hey Sweets. How about lunch tomorrow? You, me, Bones and Daisy. A picnic on The Mall by the Reflecting Pool. I'll bring lunch."
"Agent Booth. That is so unlike you. What's going on?"
"Me? Nothing. Nothing at all. It just seems that the four of us never get together, outside of work that is. It should be fun."
"But Doctor Brennan doesn't seem to like Daisy all that much. Socially I mean."
"Don't say that! Bones is really quite fond of her. She just keeps her feelings under wraps".
"More like locked in a safe and buried in cement. But if you say so we'll be there!"
"Its concrete Sweets."
The next day was perfect for a picnic. Not too hot, slight breeze, bright blue cloudless sky. Booth, Brennan, Sweets and The Whammer, er Daisy, were enjoying both the lunch and the weather. They were just finishing dessert, fresh peaches and Brie, when, with no warning, there was a loud clap of what sounded like a sonic boom and a bolt of something came crashing down. 'The Whammer' lit up like the Eiffel Tower at Christmas. There was the glimpse of something with green scales, tentacles and claws. Then she (it?) just crumbled into a pile of smoldering dust. Booth looked up in time to see a red headed figure disappear into a glowy, swirly, holey thingy. Sweets looked dazed and confused. Not so different than his normal expression. Brennan was, for once, speechless. It was later determined there was a spontaneous release of static electricity cause by an anomalous accumulation of (please insert meteorological/atmospheric jibber jabber of your choice). The cause was not important; it was the effect that mattered.
The effect was that Sweets didn't mourn for long. There was a small and sparsely attended memorial service after which every thing, and every one, returned to normal. Especially Sweets (formerly The Whammee). Sweets said that he must have had someone watching over him that day. "I was sitting right next to her and didn't get a scratch; or a scorch. It was like a guardian angel was protecting me." Booth just smiled that little smile of his (the one where his eyes twinkle just a little bit more, that dimple gets more pronounced and the corners of his mouth just…excuse me for a moment...I'll be right back. Okay…I'm back) Booth sent a short note of thanks to his old friend. "Everything worked great. Thanks for your help. It there is ever anything I can do for you just let me know."
The reply: "Just keep fighting the good fight, and congrats on finding a cure for your sun burn 'situation'." Your friend, Salix
Epilogue
It was Saturday, three days after the memorial service. Booth made an early morning trip to the local Orange Apron store and came back with a tree to plant in the back yard of the new house. Bones thought it looked more like a twig than a tree.
"Don't worry, I'll grow and be beautiful. Lots of shade. We can have backyard picnics under it."
Bones looked at the tag attached to the bucket that held the tree: Saliceae, Salix. "What made you choose this particular arboreal specimen, Booth?"
"I've always been fond of Willow."
