A/N: we're going to experience a jump in time. Bones time seems to be fluid anyway, so it's easy to manipulate. By the way, I know Parker would be about 3 or 4 instead of 5 or 6, like I've made him in this version, but this story is AU. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it. Thanks. Laura
April, 2004
Discouraged. If Booth had to describe his feelings about his life after moving to DC, he'd have to say he was discouraged. Sure, he got to see his son more often, but it seemed he'd had a bit of trouble adjusting to the subtle differences between life in New York City and in the nation's capital. He was feeling a bit lonely, and the fact that he hadn't been promoted as quickly as he'd hoped within in the Major Crimes Division wasn't helping his disposition, either.
Fortunately, there was one place of solace for Booth...a place where he could always find comfort. That haven was the local pool hall, a nasty little hole in the wall joint called Dusty's. It probably wasn't the best place for an FBI agent to spend his spare time, but he figured that as long as he behaved himself, Director Santana wouldn't find out about his less than ideal hobby. Booth had discreetly hustled pool while he was in the Army, making enough money so that he had a nice bankroll saved up when he decided not to reenlist, and his habit had continued as he embraced civilian life. He knew that to some people it looked like he had a gambling problem, but since he normally won, he didn't see it that way. To him, it was just a way to blow off a little steam, and if he managed to make an extra hundred or two during the evening, so much the better.
Today, however, even though he'd won some cash the night before, he was still feeling discouraged. The office had called to tell him that Jocelyn Arrington was waiting to see him, and as much as he understood her need for closure, he really didn't want to talk to her this morning, especially since he had nothing new to tell her about the case. He tried to figure a way to avoid seeing her, but his conscience finally got the best of him, and he agreed to meet with her.
The poor woman was beside herself with grief. Her daughter's remains were being released for burial by the State of New York, which meant the investigation would close, and they'd never find out the truth of what happened to Gemma...about who had murdered her. Hearing that the New York coroner was in town gave Booth an idea. He'd see what he could do. Maybe they'd find some peace for Mrs. Arrington after all. He promised her that he'd do everything he could to get justice for her daughter.
Oooooooooo
Stopping by one of the restrooms at the Hoover, Booth sighed as he stared at his reflection in the mirror over one of the sinks. Looking at the dark circles under his eyes, the uncombed hair, and the stubble on his chin, it was pretty obvious he'd been up all night. He slapped some cold water on his face and tried to smooth out his wrinkled shirt before he went to find Camille Saroyan.
She wasn't impressed with his appearance. "I can tell you've been up all night, but I guess since you've won, so it doesn't matter, right?" She shrugged as they left the elevator. "I can give you the file on Gemma Arrington, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to get another perspective on the case. There's a scientist here in town that works with the Jeffersonian. She might be able to help you figure things out. From what I hear, she's the best in the field of forensic anthropology."
"No way, Cam. You know I don't partner up. Anyway, I don't need some damn squint sticking her nose in my business. Cops solve crimes, not scientists." Booth stuck out his chin defiantly. "I don't see why you can't give me a few more days before you close this case."
Handing Booth the file, Dr. Saroyan rolled her eyes. "Fine. Take a few more days, but it won't do you any good. The whole thing is at a standstill. There's nothing new to be found. Might as well just give up, Booth. Let me know when you're ready to throw in the towel so I can mark this case as closed." She turned and walked back toward the elevator.
After briefly looking through the file, Booth realized he had nothing new to go on, and he was desperate. He was going to need some help if he hoped to keep his promise to Mrs. Arrington, so he ran to catch the elevator. "Hey, Cam...what was that scientist's name?"
"Temperance Brennan. Call the Jeffersonian, and they'll tell you where to find her." Flashing a smile, Cam winked at her friend. "Good luck."
Temperance Brennan? Booth hesitated for a few seconds. Why does that name sound so familiar? He thought about it as he took the elevator down to the parking garage, but his lack of sleep was doing a number on his memory. I mean, why would I know a famous scientist anyway? I must've heard her name on the news or something…probably on one of the television reality shows…maybe it was Shark Week or something like that...
He called the Jeffersonian, asking for her, and found that she was lecturing at American University that day. After a little bit of searching, he found the lecture hall he'd been looking for and quietly walked in.
After about 30 seconds he realized he was standing in the back of a classroom, staring at the lecturer with his mouth hanging open in surprise. It was her...Temperance Brennan was the woman he'd dreamed about ever since he'd seen her in that Chicago bar several years ago. He wasn't sure how he could've forgotten her name, but he'd never forgotten that face.
She was the picture of confidence as she lectured her students about defleshing techniques that would preserve the evidence on a set of bones. She walked around the room gracefully as she explained the importance of maintaining the pristine condition of the skeleton, and Booth was mesmerized. She was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen...maybe even more so now that she was thoroughly engaged in her presentation instead looking like a shy little deer caught in some scary headlights.
The lecture was intriguing as well. Stripping the body of flesh to look for evidence seemed to go against every law enforcement instinct Booth had, and after the students left, he found himself drawn to the scientist, wanting to ask questions...wanting to know more, not just about her, but about what she did with the bones as she searched for evidence.
"So, Dr. Brennan, you're saying that even poison or drowning would leave evidence on bones? I find that hard to believe…", he began, not really sure what to say so he'd have an excuse to talk to this woman.
"I know that it's hard for the average person to believe, but it's true. A world class forensic anthropologist such as myself would be able to see changes in the structure of the bone matrix if the poison was administered over a long period of time. Nicks on the bones can indicate where injections might have occurred. Staining on the bone can indicate where a person was injured. For example, hemorrhagic staining indicates whether an artery or vein has been compromised. Drowning can leave microscopic evidence in bone marrow. It's actually quite simple if one knows what to look for…"
"Yeah, okay." Booth nodded slowly, stunned as he realized the brilliance of the anthropologist. He wondered if someone of average intelligence like him even deserved to have a discussion with her. "From what I understand, these techniques can be applied to old skeletons as well. I heard that you solved a 4000 year old cold case just by looking at the bones."
Brennan was clearly surprised at that the man in front of her knew this, but by the way he was able to follow her explanations, he was much more than just a handsome face. "That's true...he'd been stabbed multiple times. There was evidence of wounds made by a crude stone implement on the dorsal aspect of his ribs and thoracic spine." She eyed him suspiciously. "Are you some sort of reporter? I don't give interviews without prior appointments…"
"Oh, no. Sorry." He smiled as he pulled out his badge. "I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth. I work for the FBI…" He nervously shifted from one foot to another. "...and I need some help with a case…"
Studying the man carefully, Brennan's eidetic memory kicked in, and she smiled. "I think we've met before, haven't we, Agent Booth? It was many years ago, in a bar in Chicago…"
"Yeah. I literally bumped into you at the Green Mill Lounge. You were coming out of the ladies' room as I was heading for the mens' room." Hesitating a bit, he chuckled softly. "I'm surprised you remember me...I thought you told those girls you were with that you'd had too much to drink. If you were buzzed, it'd be hard to remember something like bumping into me."
She smiled shyly. "It would be difficult to forget a face that is as symmetrical as yours, Agent Booth, especially since you bear a striking resemblance to your ancestor, John Wilkes Booth…"
"I really don't want to talk about him, okay?", Booth interrupted. "It bothers me too much…you know, because of what he did..."
"Oh, I see. Well, we can't help who our ancestors are, so there's really no reason to be ashamed of having comparable bone structure." Brennan moved to her podium to pick up her notes. "Anyway, I had told my companions that I was intoxicated because I no longer wanted to spend time with them. I found those girls to be shallow, inane, and quite immature. They weren't at the bar to spend time with me so they could get to know me better. They just needed someone older to buy their drinks for them, even though it would still be illegal for them to imbibe. Their goal was to get drunk enough so they would lose their inhibitions in order to seek sexual gratification with someone they didn't know. That's why I called someone to come pick me up."
"Your boyfriend?" Booth cringed, hating the sound of that word, but he couldn't believe this remarkable woman would still be single after all this time.
"Dr. Stires was my romantic interest at the time, but we are no longer involved since I've taken the position at the Jeffersonian." She put her papers in her briefcase and picked up her purse. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"
"Wait a minute, Doc. I said I needed some help, remember?" Booth tried to move in front of the scientist so she couldn't leave, but she was too quick for him, and she walked away quickly so that he practically had to chase her down the aisle between the rows of seats. "I'm at a dead end on a cold case, and I thought maybe you could help me with it."
"What kind of cold case?" Brennan turned around to look at the agent. "Is it a missing person, or is it unidentified remains? I've helped close many of those cases."
"No, I actually know who this person is, and I know she was murdered, but I'm having a hard time proving who the perp is. I've got a pretty good idea that it was a federal judge, but there isn't much concrete evidence against him, so we can't even get a warrant to search his car."
"I won't manufacture evidence just so some special agent can get a conviction under his belt." Brennan glared at him, shaking her head as she continued to walk away. "I only work with facts...things that can actually be seen or measured."
"Oh, I completely understand, and I would never ask you to fake anything like that." Booth sensed that the scientist might be interested, so he pushed a bit harder, upping the ante by adding a bit of angst. "The victim's mother is still looking for justice for her daughter, even though everyone else has given up on finding the murderer." He sighed softly as he shrugged at Brennan. "I'm just not ready to give up yet. I want to make sure I've done everything I can to help that woman find some peace. I promised her I'd do my best to find out who killed her daughter. I was told that you might be able to help me, but if you don't want to, that's okay." He shoved his hands in his pocket, trying to act nonchalant. "Thanks for talking to me. It was really interesting, learning about bones and all."
Brennan hesitated, turning to look at the special agent. "I never said I didn't want to help you. What I said was I wouldn't twist the truth to make the evidence fit into some preconceived notion you might have about who committed the crime. We would have to conduct the investigation as if you had no idea about the identity of the perpetrator."
Booth thought over Brennan's demands for a few seconds, realizing how hard that would be for him, especially since he knew in his heart who had committed the murder. However, he also realized he'd be willing to do almost anything to spend more time with this beautiful, brilliant woman. "Okay, you've got a deal."
"Excellent. Please have the file delivered to my office first thing in the morning." Brennan turned to leave, but Booth wasn't willing to let her go quite yet.
"If you have time, why don't we just go to my office and look over it there? That way you can look at all the evidence we've gathered as well."
She glanced at her watch. "That will be acceptable."
"Good." He grinned at her as they left the lecture hall together. "It's weird, right? Whoever thought that running into you outside of a restroom so many years ago might lead to us working together one day, trying to solve a murder together."
Brennan nodded in agreement. "It is quite a coincidence."
"Coincidence? Does that mean you still don't believe in fate?"
"Of course not. The concept of fate is ludicrous. It was just random chance that brought us back together after all these years." She rolled her eyes at his silly grin. "What?"
He laughed as they walked toward his car. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's random chance, or maybe it's fate, but either way, I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship."