Chapter Two: Sun down/tide out

A/N: Apologies to my wonderful and very generous reviewers – a totally inconvenient technical glitch meant I couldn't respond to you straight away. I so much appreciate you reading my story and taking the time to review – it's incredibly encouraging to this newbie! I hope you enjoy this instalment, and I've got another chapter on the boil so with luck I'll get it up reasonably soon.


Our heroes are working hard to identify the young victim. Brennan's pushing her physical limits to help speed identification, and Booth's looking out for her (he's so good at that, isn't he?).

Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my soul, and I even lend that out on occasion, but only if you ask nice. Anything that even looks familiar in this story probably belongs to someone else (except the actual story - that's all mine, Mine, MINE [insert maniacal laughter here]!)


Chapter Two: Sun Down/Tide Out

Brennan sat alone in her office, her fingers resting motionless on the keyboard. The light from her desk lamp was the only illumination and there was no sound apart from a background hum of the air conditioning. She was exhausted. She's been battling to keep her eyes open for an hour or so, and just as her lids started to close gain, the phone rang. She looked at the display, it was Booth

"Hi Booth." She tried to keep the fatigue from her voice, but failed.

"Where are you Bones? Did I wake you up?" her partner asked. She had to blink a couple of times to clear her head. With a quick glance at the clock on the screen, she realised it was just after midnight.

"No, no – I was just …" She prevaricated, not wanting to admit that she was tired, "What's up? Has something happened?"

"Nope." Booth paused briefly, "I was expecting you to call – I thought we were meeting at the Diner about four hours ago to get something to eat? I just tried your apartment, but got your service. Whaddaya doing?" Trying to stifle a yawn, Brennan used her free hand to rub her eyes, mussing her hair in the process. She thought Booth was disgustingly chirpy considering the time.

"I'm collating the results from the tests Dr Hodgins and Zack did this afternoon." She sighed, "I'm sorry I didn't call you." Brennan had her back to the door so she didn't notice Booth stepping out of the darkness that shrouded the rest of the lab, into the arc of light radiating from her office. He had his phone to his ear.

"Bones" he said reproachfully, "You know what all work and no play did to Jack?" Confusion furrowed her brow, what was he talking about?

"What has Dr Hodgins got to do with anything?" she demanded crossly. Booth rolled his eyes and severed the connection, leaving her hanging while he stepped quietly up behind her.

"It makes Jack a dull boy." The words were spoken softly, and Brennan was shocked to the core by the sensation of Booths' breath against her neck. She swung her head towards him sharply, their foreheads almost colliding.

"Booth, you startled me! What are you doing here?" He held up a brown paper bag brimming with food containers and for the first time the tantalising smells coming from the bag registered on her senses.

"You gotta eat, right Bones? I bet you haven't eaten anything all day." She flashed him a rueful smile, and realised she was starving. He settled himself on the couch, doling out several containers of steaming food. The office was quickly redolent with spice. Booth looked up at her with a wide grin and patted the couch next to him. She didn't need any more prompting and took her place, elbowing him out of the way so that she had more space. They didn't speak while they each loaded the plastic plates he'd brought with a generous taste of each dish.

"Mmm - Indian? Where did you get Indian?"

"New place." Booth tried to talk around a mouthful of steaming samosa, "Couple of blocks from your apartment, near the whole food place you keep telling me to go to."

"Where were you this afternoon? I thought you would have been here to check on our progress."

"I was in court – the Murchison matter."

"Didn't she plead guilty after we gave you that DNA evidence from her husband's credit card?" Booth nodded confirmation,

"I got called in to give evidence at the sentencing hearing. Her daughter refused to give a victim impact statement so the DA wanted to give the judge a bit more insight into her motives. He seemed to think I had some insight."

"Well, he would be right. You appeared to almost be able to second guess Madeleine Murchison's next move – you have an innate sense regarding human behaviour that at times is astonishing." Brennan ladled another spoonful of tikka masala onto her plate and almost missed the narrow look Booth gave her as she did so, although she misinterpreted his motive.

"Calm down, I've left you plenty." She helped herself to another pastry, "This is really very good."

They ate in companionable silence for a little while until Brennan pushed the plate away and sat back, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin. She waited while Booth emptied the last of the contents of a couple of containers onto his plate, adding some steamed basmati rice to the mix. She raised her eyebrows at the pile of food,

"You may regret consuming that amount of food later – its pretty spicy. You know, terpene oils have local anti-inflammatory and antispasmodic effects upon the mucous lining and the muscle coats of the alimentary canal. Abdominal massage can be therapeutic as well." Booth kept chewing and she went on, "Current research provides further evidence of the curry spices' antioxidant effects on tissue with relatively weak antioxidant defenses, such as the brain."

"Turpentine - what? Are you telling me dinner will give me nightmares? Or that I'll maybe need a tummy rub later?" Booth gave her a comically lecherous look, forking some more food into his mouth, and squeezing his eyes shut in pain as he bit into a particularly potent chilli.

"Booth, there's no evidence that overindulging in spicy food will affect anything other than your alimentary canal." She couldn't help a throaty chuckle at his antics, but her expression abruptly sobered. "The only nightmare you will have is from this case." She said quietly. Booth put his plate aside and half turned to look at her.

"What have your squints turned up?"

"As I already concluded, the body is of a Caucasian pre-pubescent female. However epiphysial fusion puts the age at around 10 to 13 years old, although the size suggests younger. It appears that she was protein energy malnourished as there is significant thinning and low density of the diaphyses – the shaft of the long bones. It's unusual in someone who was raised in the United States, although I've seen it many times in so-called third world countries. Cam found very little in the stomach contents, a partially digested chocolate bar, as well as bacterial proliferation in the portion of the upper intestine that was still intact. The victim was suffering from malnutrition.

"The lower body was burned through all layers of the dermis, with momentous burns to the head and left arm. Patterning suggests the use of an accelerant. Hodgins will confirm. As well, there was significant wear on the patellae and bilateral epicondylitis – tennis elbow - which could imply that the victim was accustomed to repetitive physical labour. There are slight changes at the lumbar spine that support that conclusion. I'm not able to give you a better picture than that at the moment. I believe Angela will be able to give us some ideas as to the cause or causes tomorrow when she's had a chance to enter all the variables into the computer."

"Do you think maybe she was brought up on a farm, Bones? There are lot of smallholdings in the area where she was found, and kids often muck in and help, particularly when there are no other alternatives. A lot of farms have gone under in recent times, families have to pull together sometimes to make ends meet."

"That makes sense, although this was more than just "mucking in". The wear and tear visible on the x-rays speaks to a consistent level of heavy physical work. As well, there was some evidence of bruising in the soft tissue on her back and sides, although Cam says it was healing and could have been incurred up to a week prior to death. There is no obvious evidence that she put up a struggle, so it's possible she may have been drugged. We'll have the tox results in the morning.

"Booth, there are kerf marks on the C5 vertebra which suggests – "

" – her throat was cut?" Booth finished for her. Brennan nodded and continued.

"There is no evidence that the victim was alive when that occurred."

"Thank God for that. So what was the cause of death?"

"Cam has hypothesised that death was a result of myocardial infarction."

"A heart attack?" Booth was surprised. He got up from the couch and started to pace along the glass wall of the office, needing an outlet for his emotions.

"More specifically a clot. I will of course need to rule out any other cause of death that may be revealed on my examination of the skeletal remains in the morning. Dr Hodgins still has a stack of particulate evidence to identify, but he's been able to confirm the time of death: no more than 24 to 36 hours before the remains were discovered."

"Any sign of sexual assault?" Booth's stance reflected his tension as he braced himself for her answer.

"None. No bruising, no semen present. Clothes were intact and in place where undamaged by fire. There was a pattern of singeing on the clothes that hasn't yet been identified." The partners fell silent, each occupied with their own thoughts. Booth threw himself back down on the couch and when he finally spoke, his tone was edged with self-disgust,

"Poor kid, she dies hungry and terrified, and I've just eaten enough to feed several kids."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Booth." Brennan instinctively moved towards him, her hand reaching out to him, "Humans obey a survival imperative to store energy when we have the opportunity – you would never knowingly deprive a child of a meal, or anything else for that matter. It's coded into our DNA to be protective of the young. Rationally speaking, as an alpha male, your need to remain stronger and fitter than your competitors is exigent."

"I wish you'd quit calling me an alpha male – it makes me sound like some sort of hunting dog." he said curtly. Brennan screwed up her mouth in a moue of regret, but didn't take it any further. She let her hand drop, and moved back to take a seat at her desk.

"I won't know conclusively until I've examined the bones further but I suspect the victim suffered abuse over a substantial period of time, and there's further evidence that strongly suggests that she was also subjected to several forms of torture at the time of her death. But there are some things that don't add up in a logical sense and I'm not willing to make any firm ruling on the cause of death at the moment." She fell silent, her brow furrowing in frustration. Booth abruptly jumped up and got her coat off the rack,

"C'mon Bones, time to get you to bed. You haven't slept for over 36 hours and maybe things will be a bit clearer in the morning after you get some rest – "

"I had a couple of hours on the couch – "

"Some proper sleep. In your own bed. In your jammies with your teddy bear for company."

"I don't own a teddy bear."

"Well, I'll get you one some time." Brennan shot him a look, but let him help her into her coat, binning the remnants of their meal on the way out. Their footsteps echoed along the hall, bringing one of the security guards still on duty out to see who was there. Booth acknowledged him, but Brennan didn't even see him; she was still wrestling with her thoughts.

They got to her car, and Brennan turned to her partner.

"What does your gut say about this case, Booth? I trust your instincts." Booth pressed his lips together and exhaled on a sigh,

"My gut is completely silent on this one so far, Bones. I don't have a feel for anything yet." His tone was regretful.

Brennan half smiled, "Well, after that meal I can pretty much guarantee your gut might be communicating with you sometime in the next few hours, although maybe not in any way related to this case." Booth groaned dramatically at her bad joke, appreciating her effort to lighten his mood, and handed her into the driver's seat of her car. He closed the door and took a step back. He saw the quick frown that crossed her features as though something was still bothering her and he waited for her to go on.

"I don't actually wear pyjamas, Booth. Goodnight." Satisfied that she'd clarified the facts she pulled away and didn't hear Booth groan again, a reaction that had nothing to do with amusement.


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