Disclaimer: I still don't own Bones.
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2. Musing
Later that evening, Brennan sat at her desk in her apartment, trying to write a chapter for her upcoming novel, but she couldn't seem to focus on the story.
She wasn't able to get the case of the homeless Beverly Moyer out of her mind.
It had shown during further investigations that Beverly Moyer hadn't had any family and was only reported missing because someone at a shelter for homeless hadn't seen her for a long time. That person started to ask around to find out, that no one knew about her whereabouts nor had seen her for days.
Temperance Brennan was surprised how much the case absorbed her emotionally, even after she had finished with her work. Usually, she kept private and job-related things strictly separate. In case she should describe it, she would probably use data-files to picture it, one for her private emotions and another for what kept her occupied during the investigation of a case.
The only occasion she would open them both at the same time was when she was writing her books. But the 'ghost' of this homeless woman seemed to be like a computer-virus that was intruding her 'mental files' and linking them. The chaos this intrusion caused expressed itself in an untypical outburst of self-pity which, in addition, disturbed Brennan even more.
She must have felt very lonely, Brennan thought. A feeling she was familiar with. Thinking back on her first time in the Foster system, just after her parents' disappearance, she could still feel the sting of loneliness she felt then. Sure, she grew over it through the years and became stronger and more independent that way, but the memory of that time was still present. She also realized during those years that she'd better not rely on anyone but herself.
Working with Booth for almost four years now had shifted that attitude a bit and she knew now, that she could rely on Booth too. But if there'd be a situation where she would be forced to make a quick decision about whom she could depend on, she herself would always be the first choice. Booth would be very close behind, she assured herself.
Brennan got up and went to her kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. Filling a glass, she thought about the past day at the lab. She took a sip and returned to her desk.
On her computer screen the cursor was still blinking reproachful on an empty file. With Beverly Moyer still on her mind she wouldn't be able to write down anything sensible today. Shutting down her computer, she let out a deep sigh.
Being alone hadn't been a problem for her after she became independent, with no need to account for anything, but now, she was thinking that her over sized sense of independence might be one or maybe even the reason that she felt alone sometimes and that she might end up like Beverly Moyer, alone with no family or friends. This thought sent a shiver up her spine and she tried to calm it down with another sip of wine.
Most of the times she rejected offers from Angela to accompany her, when the artist got an invitation to a party or tickets for a Sunday matinee, pretending that she still had work to do or not to be the sociable type. Well, she honestly wasn't that sociable, but she was able to adapt if she wanted to.
And Booth? He mostly came over uninvited. Not that she would mind, but it was a fact that he had visited her more often than vice versa. She emptied her glass of wine and went again to her kitchen.
'What if they would stop their invitations and visits someday? Because no one wanted to give and give when they got nothing in return.' She thought anxiously. What was she giving them back? Most of the times they were got rejections. 'If I keep going on that way,´ Brennan thought, 'I really might end up alone.'
She filled up her glass again, then took the bottle with her, placed it on the coffee table and flopped down on her couch. After she nestled herself up against the cushions she continued her musing.
Recalling her bantering with Booth that day at the lab, she remembered saying to him that no ghost would ever haunt her. Now, she had to admit that the ghost of the homeless lady did. Well, not literally. Booth was wrong when he affirmed that she took everything literally.
'But it's fun to see him rolling his eyes in desperation when I make him think that I do.' Brennan thought.
Beverly Moyer's lonely life and death made her reflect on her own way of living. Being alone might be nice sometimes after a long day at the lab or after a promotion tour through several states after a book release, but she had to admit to herself that most of the times it didn't. Like now.
The silence in her apartment was nearly unbearable. The rustling of her cushions when she moved on her couch and the muted sound of cars passing by her block were the only sounds. She took her glass with her as she went towards the stereo. Maybe some music would help to soothe her whirling thoughts. She searched through her CD's but nothing suited her current mood.
'Didn't Booth say that he's able to make ghosts disappear earlier on? Maybe I should call him and ask him to chase Beverly Moyer's ghost away.' She thought after emptying her glass once more. Pouring down the wine that was making her feel dizzy fast, she decided to slow down a bit.
She sat down on the floor and continued the absent-minded search through the CD-rack.
Even in her tipsy condition she realized that such a request might sound very silly out of her mouth.
'I, the rational logical thinking anthropologist, asking him, the FBI agent who probably got his ghost-chasing skills from watching "Ghostbusters" several times, to chase away ghosts that I'd affirmed I wouldn't believe in. He would laugh his ass off, for sure.'
She snorted at her own foolishness and poured herself a third glass of wine.
No way would she ask him. Looking at her glass she thought: 'Forget about slowing down!' and emptied half of it.
She was just about to sit back down again when a box with old vinyl-records caught her eye.
Her brother had left the box behind when he went away to find a job and had left Temperance behind to the foster care. Even though she had thought of it as a kind of betrayal, she had kept his records. They'd been the only thing with at least some little value – not to mention the emotional one – she'd owned in those years. She squatted on her heels in front of the box and started searching for a certain record. A little smile spread on her face when she found what she'd been looking for. She'd tried to coax her brother towards giving that record to her when she'd been a little girl, but had always failed.
Now, she placed the record on the turntable, started the record-player and balanced the pick-up over the chosen song.
Her smile grew wider, while the first notes of 'Man on the corner' by Genesis filled her living-room.
"See the lonely man there on the corner
What he's waiting for, I don't know
But he waits every day now
He's just waiting for something to show."
The smile changed into a musing expression again. What exactly was she been waiting for?
Brennan never thought of herself as someone who needed to be saved by knights or a prince. She never had problems to find someone to keep her company, even in bed, but lately those kinds of relationships felt somehow trivial and unsatisfying.
Maybe, she should simply try her luck, call Booth and tell him that she felt alone and just wanted to talk with someone. Then again, he might pour out all of that over-protective alpha-maleness over her and that wasn't what she looked for tonight. She didn't want someone to comfort her just someone who would keep her company. Didn't she?
Probably Angela would be the better choice to ask. Angela was someone who could simply listen without judging. Something she really appreciated.
Brennan refilled her glass for the fourth time and took a long swig of it.
Could she really expect her friend to jump in every time Brennan called her?
'But probably I've rebuffed her already too much yet…' Brennan thought, but thinking had become extra difficult.
The record continued playing and Phil Collins' voice interrupted her desperate try to think straight:
"Like it or not
You have done it this time
And like it or not, I have enough
Like it or not
There's a lot I could say
'Cause I've got a lot on my mind.
It won't be very long
You're just another face
That I once used to know
And I gave you everything
But what have I got to show?
Like it or not
You are out on the street.
Like it or not
That's where you'll stay."
"You see, Bones? Even Collins thinks that you'll end up alone someday."She heard Booth's ironic voice in her mind.
"Why are you sticking your nose in again? It's just a question of interpretation!" She berated Booth imaginary voice in her head.
"Thinking rational isn't that easy when you just emptied a bottle of wine in a short time". Brennan pondered. But berating with an imaginary Booth was easier than musing without any result, if her attitude wouldn't let her end like Beverly Moyer. Alone, without friends....
"Great! Back to 'Start,' again." She muttered and flopped back on the couch. If the only success in chasing ghosts out of her mind would be by eliminating of a bottle of wine, she'd better call some specialist, even if he'd be just a self-proclaimed one.
Without further thought, she grabbed her cell-phone and pressed "1" on speed-dial.
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A/N: As you are reading this I have to assume that you went trough both chapter. Thank you for that!!
So would you mind to leave a little comment?? I would really appreciate it ;)
The quoted lyrics are from "Man On The Corner" and "Like It Or Not" by Genesis; Both released on
the album "Abacab"