Due to people alerting this story, I felt bad for not continuing, plus I think I have found it again.
She was missing, the bitch was gone. This was bad, very bad. He had always wanted a toy like her therefore, he had to find her. He had no ID. No way of knowing who she was. Other than the FBI had caught her back this meant she must be important. He could not return to his warehouse though, the CSIs would be all over it. He had watched enough TV to know that. Oh yes, he was going to have to be smart about this one. Lure her back. Send some breadcrumbs or a cake that says 'eat me'.
Play the game.
If you lose something- you will usually find it in the oddest of places. So he had checked the mall, the wedding parade and his mother's embroidery cupboard. There had been no sign. Why would there be?
The other one had been no fun. He had wanted the two of them. One to fetch, one to carry. But he had slipped, fired too far south. Shooting them up is not the way to go, it can become way too messy. But it could not be helped. Everything for a reason.
He would find her; they were after all, meant for each other. He had even named her, for he had gagged her up too well for such pleasantries like introductions. He had named her Bee, because her hair was brown. Brown began with a B. He should get a gold star for that.
"Bones, if you ever want to get out of here you have to eat."
"If they gave me edible food, Booth I would eat it, but this is like rubber." Brennan said, poking about her plate and looking down what miserable.
"Hey when I got blown up by your fridge and was stuck here the food was fine." Booth plucked at his tie as if it enforced winning the point.
"What does that have to with this?" Her voice rose as she jabbed her fork at the man sitting on a chair beside her.
"Stop complaining, build up your strength and get back to work! Now, I have to go and investigate some really tough cases, go see Zach- you see Bones- he has an extremely interesting case at the moment. Pity." Charm smile time, Seeley.
Booth had a plan to goad her back into work. Tease her with what she couldn't do.
"Booth, just talk to Cam and get her to bring the work here." She tried to sound persuasive but it came out a bit whiney, which was not the desired effect.
Booth shook his head and strode out, trying to keep the upper hand. He was late, late, late for a very important date. Check the clock. Oh dear.
"Bye Bones. I gotta meet with a Doc."
"Booth, come back. Booth!" She shouted after him, but he was gone. "Damn him."
Brennan was still inwardly moaning about her "partner" and tugging at the plaster on her left hand absently, when suddenly something in her head broke. She remembered seeing Christy fall to the floor. Images. Sounds. Panic. Blood slowing forming on Christy's pale, blue shirt. Then the next moment, Brennan had rushed toward her. All thoughts on the stopping the bleeding. Visible blood is never good. As she had tried in vain to save the woman's life, feel for a heartbeat. Was there one? She couldn't remember. One, two, three, four. Silence.
"Need a hand Darling?" A man had said, standing calmly next to her, holding the proverbial smoking gun to her head.
"She ain't going to last much longer. Sorry I didn't aim too good with that one, but you. With you I am going to have some fun." He had said with a maniacal grin.
Brennan sat staring at the wall painted a pathetic pink. Tears rolling silently down her cheeks. Flash backs are not good, she thought to herself. She was suddenly scared about what else she did not remember. How much was missing?
She wanted Booth back, to have him hold her again. But that had become one of their, 'let's forget it could mean something and move on' moments. Then the memories began again.
She had fought of course; she had the injuries to prove it. But somehow, he had won. He had out manoeuvred her. Clubbed her in the back of the head with his shiny gun. She had fallen; hit the ground splattered with mud and blood. The tall, dark and insane stranger had beaten Dr Temperance Brennan.
She really was starting to regret being so stubborn when Booth was around. Brennan decided to blame Booth for all her problems, at least until the new headache had subsided.
She glanced over at the help button and wondered whether having flashes inside her head constituted an emergency. They didn't. The button stayed unpressed but the tears continued.
I know it's short, but I was itching to write something.
