Nothing Changes Unless Next A Nightmare

(Working Title: Cathartic Release)

By LizD

Winter 2011

Chapter 4

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The club closed at four in the morning. It was busy until then. Between the news that Bren was back and the shooting of Heather Taffet, the rubber-neckers were out in full force. Booth and Bren stayed out of each other's way. Saroyan and company left at four as well. At four fifteen, Booth with Hannah Bee on his arm announced he was leaving. Bren had no reaction. They made eye contact enough to know that Bren was not welcome at home that night. She had already planned on checking into a hotel. That decision was made five seconds after seeing Booth with his blonde. She tried not to be insulted by his choice, but it was hard not to be. Hannah Bee was so much less than Bren in every way. She went to the office to go over the sales for the night.

Sweets, Daisy, Fisher, Zach, Angela, Hodgins and Vincent Nigel Murray convened at the end of bar.

"Well, what do you make of all of that?" Angela asked.

"A pretty WOW night," Daisy bubbled.

"Too bad I won't be around to see how this plays out," Fisher stated with a grin on his face. "I got picked for Top Chef." Without Bren's oversight and with Booth distracted, Fisher was allowed to change the menu quite a bit. The food cost was outrageous and it was no way profitable for the club, but critics were taking notice. Fisher was becoming a contender in the chef world. A round of congratulations was issued by all except Zach.

"Is this Top Chef: Bar Food edition?" Zach jeered and was subsequently booed.

"You can't go now Fisher," Angela pleaded.

"You and Hodgins were on your way to Paris," Fisher pointed out.

With the success of Hodgins last book, the money he was making and the fact that Angela was the undeniable heroine of the book, Angela found Hodgins much more attractive. It wasn't that she was a gold digger, but she had no plan to be a hostess at a night club for the rest of her life, and there was something about the way the scruffy little writer turned a phrase that turned her on. "Well, maybe we won't."

"Angie," Hodgins exclaimed.

"I said maybe," she wrapped her arm around him and kissed his cheek.

"And you are going back to England," Fisher accused Vincent.

Vincent Nigel Murray looked a little caught. He hadn't told anyone but Fisher his plans. "I'm needed at home to help my dad with the pub, but I haven't bought my ticket yet and I have four brothers and two sisters there helping him already."

"Daisy and I were headed to California," Sweets announced. Daisy didn't look so invested in that plan. Sweets ignored it as he had been for weeks. They had fought so many times about it he had given up caring. She would go or not go. It was up to her. "Taffet got the band an audition with some big record producer out there."

"Guess you aren't going to have to pay her a percentage anymore, huh?"

"Taffet said you were shit."

"Taffet said Hannah Bee was shit, too."

"Well, I have to agree with her there."

"Why do you think she's booked her six nights a week?"

"It isn't her talent and it sure isn't bringing in the business."

"She's cheap?"

"She's easy."

"She needs a pole."

"You mean other than the bosses?"

"What does he see in her? Compared to Mrs. B ..."

"Hannah Bee is everything Brennan is not," Hodgins pointed out. "She's a damsel in distress in need of a big strong knight in shining armor to come save her and she rewards him handsomely."

"That's not it," Sweets stated. "Booth is in a self-destruct mode. When Mrs. B walked away he was lost. Everything he built his world around came crumbing down. The only thing left of the life he created was this night club and an ounce of self-respect. To destroy it would be the final act of destroying that life. A life that was denied him. A life he could no longer have."

The group was silenced for a moment then they all burst out laughing. "Stick to bartending, kid."

"Did you take a Psych 101 class or something?"

"I'm actually right," Sweets protested. "He blames himself for Mrs. B having a hysterectomy effectively ending any chance she would ever have of a bearing a child."

"She blames herself for losing the baby," Angela added. "That's why Mrs. B left."

"They both feel responsible for destroying each other's happiness."

"And why Mr. B has been circling the drain for seven months."

"Well that is just dumb," Daisy pronounced innocently. "Why don't they just talk to each other?"

"The sixty-four thousand dollar question."

"It isn't that easy, Daisy."

"Maybe we should lock them in a room together," Zach stated. Zach had been quiet during the discussion of his boss and her husband. Zach had been quiet for the past seven months. Zach was the only one who believed that Bren would be back and tried to keep running things as she would have. He had been belittled and berated for his belief but he was unshaken. He was unshaken by Booth's constant haranguing, and he was unshaken by Bren's absence. He kept his faith and belief that Mr. and Mrs. B had just hit a rough patch and would find their way back to each other regardless of the mountains of debris between them. And he would wait no matter how many times Mr. Booth fired him.

"Not a bad idea, Zach."

"We would need to keep all sharp objects away from them."

"We should do that anyway."

Wendell came in and motioned for a beer.

"Got the boss and his bimbo all tucked in for the night?"

Wendell drained his beer and motioned for another.

"Wendell, what's up?"

"I lost the boss," he confessed.

"What? You lost the boss?"

"What does that mean?"

"Tonight ... between ten thirty and one I don't know where he was."

"And you think he shot Heather Taffet?"

"I don't know ... it was a pretty bad fight they had earlier and not their first. She said she would sue him and take the club."

"Mr. B is not afraid of anybody, including Heather Taffet."

"He used to be; now he's afraid of his shadow."

"Booth would kill if he had to, but not like that."

"Something like a shooting, a sniper shooting would have to have been planned in advance."

"Don't you think those plans would have been blown out of the water when Bren showed up here today?"

"Maybe she was in on it."

"Maybe they planned this together." Fisher realized how stupid that sounded as soon as he said it.

"So who did it?"

"Taffet had a lot of enemies."

"Enemies that would hire a sniper to take her out? Unlikely."

"I lied for him," Wendell confessed.

"We all lied for him ... and Mrs. B," Angela protested.

"I don't want you to do that," Bren said. They all turned and looked at her. "Booth would not want you to do that."

No one heard her come up. No one could remember what they said last that she might have overheard. She had heard all of it, but wouldn't let on.

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She sat down at the other end of the bar and nodded toward the scotch. "I think I'm ready for one of those, Mr. Sweets."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Interesting night," she commented after the scotch had slid down her throat. It was the first drink she had taken in over a year. The burn was familiar, safe and a little dangerous. "So," she forced a smile. "Hello to you all."

They murmured hellos.

"I want to apologize. I do apologize. I was in a very bad place for the past eight months and it took me a while to get my head on straight. But I'm back now. And I want to make this place a success. Bring it back to the way it was ... better for all of us." She held up a stack of invoices. "It won't be easy. In the interest of full disclosure, we are in the red, some pretty dark red, but I promise you we will always make payroll. I realize that I don't know all that has been going on here, or what has been happening with each of you. I want to rectify that. I want us to be ... to be a family again. Yes, even you Mr. Hodgins. The spotlight you put on the club should not have been wasted. I take responsibility for that."

"Well, we have another murder," he smiled. "I smell a sequel."

"Good." She smiled sadly. It wasn't good. It was horrible. A woman was killed. Booth was a suspect. Her employees were lying to protect him. She was lying to protect him. And it was a better than even bet he didn't need protecting. As for Booth and Bren running the club together? A pipe dream at best. It was a pretty deep hole they had to climb out of and with two people are fighting against each other it would make it that much harder. She and Booth were not a team, at least not yet. "Can I count on you?"

Fisher stood up. "I have been invited to appear on the next Top Chef. I would be away for a minimum of ten weeks, but if I win -." There was chuckling. "Even if I don't, it will still bring attention to the club."

"That will help."

"Ange and I were going to Paris to find inspiration for my next book, but I think there is enough inspiration right here."

"Great."

"Lance and his band are going to California to meet with a big record producer," Daisy said snidely.

"Well, I mean," Sweets stumbled over his words. "It hasn't been ... I mean I don't have the actually date for the audition, but ..."

"I wish you much success."

"I'm sure we will be sticking around for a while anyway."

All eyes fell to Vincent Nigel Murray. "What?" he protested. "I'm not going anywhere. Not now, want to see this band get put back together."

Zach should have said something but he didn't. He kept his eyes on Brennan. Of all the people she left she knew Zach would take it the worst - well other than Booth.

"Zach?" she called to him. "I'm sorry Zach. I know you have been shouldering a lot more than you should have had to. Let me take that off your shoulders and we can get back to doing things the way they used to be done."

Zach nodded.

"Now, let's lock up and get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."

The crew disbanded each going home with lifted but guarded spirits. Brennan stayed until the last one was out. She looked around the darkened club. She was home. It had fallen on some pretty hard times, but she was finally home. It was going to need a lot more than a coat of paint to get it back to its glory.

She was just about to turn out the last night and exit. She looked up to the cat walk. Booth was there watching her. Clearly he had been there the whole time. He had no reaction for her. She nodded to him. He nodded back. She clicked off the last light and went out locking the door behind her.