The Secret Part 4
All thoughts of Booth flew out of her mind as she noticed something that she hadn't seen before. She leaned closer, trying to confirm what she was seeing. "Zach, do you have the xrays of the victim's hands?" she asked without looking up.
"Yes, Dr. Brennan," he replied, pulling the films from the envelope and attaching them to the light box.
Brennan straightened, a frown between her brows, and walked over to look closely at the xrays. "Can we magnify this section? I think there are hairline fractures of the intermediate and distal phalanges here," she pointed at the image with a pen, "here and here."
Zach stepped close to the light box, a magnifying glass in hand. After a long moment, he nodded. "You're right. They're pretty faint, but there just the same. In the absence of any other apparent wounds, they must have been overlooked. Do you think they are defensive wounds?"
Taking the magnifying glass from him, she took a closer look herself. "They look like they might have been sustained in a fistfight or boxing. Was the victim a boxer?" she asked Booth, who stood behind her, squinting at the xrays. He couldn't see what they were talking about, but then, that was nothing new.
"Extreme fighter," he replied absently. He leaned in closer, squinting harder, his chest coming into contact with her right shoulder. Brennan ignored the sensations radiating from the contact point and turned to ask him what he meant, startled to find his face so close to hers. She took a step away under the pretext of pulling the images off the light box and handing them to Zach.
"See if you can enhance these in the computer. We need to determine if these were old fractures that had healed or if they were fresh." Composed once more, she looked at Booth, who had that infuriating sparkle of amusement in his eyes. "Extreme fighter?" she asked, frowning a warning at him. She was in no mood for his needling.
He took a step back and put his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, you know, no holds barred kinda fighting. Brutal," he finished, as though that said it all.
"Is that legal?" Brennan asked, horrified that a modern industrialized society like theirs might condone that kind of brutality.
Booth shrugged, seeing no problem. "Sure. The fighters know what they're in for and they train extensively for it."
She shook her head. "I can't even watch boxing. I can't imagine there is any entertainment value in watching men beating each other up. Anthropologically speaking, it's a classic example of alpha males battling for supremacy. I just don't understand why a society as advanced as ours still condones it—it's barbaric. Do you watch it?" she asked curiously.
Booth shrugged again. "Now and then, mostly when I'm with my buddy, Chad. It's not really my kind of sport. But I can understand why some men find it entertaining."
Brennan shuddered, but was rescued from further discussion by Zach.
"Dr. Brennan, this is at 200X magnification. Some of the hairline fractures appear to be healed, while others are fresh, within hours of T.O.D. There are also healed oblique and compound fractures of the right tibia and fibula," he finished, indicating xrays of the victim's right leg.
"Why didn't you mention that in your report?" Brennan asked more sharply than she intended. Zach withered a little under her stare.
"Since they were fully healed, I didn't think they had anything to do with cause of death," he explained timidly.
Brennan reined in her temper. "Always report any evidence of past injuries found in examining the remains. Even if they aren't pertinent to the case, they could indicate the victim's occupation or give us some insight into the victim's history. Nothing is insignificant," she stressed. She felt Booth's hand on her sleeve.
"Take it easy, Bones. It was a logical mistake," Booth said, surprised at her bad temper.
Brennan rounded on him, finding a new target. "Don't tell me how to treat my people and don't tell me how to run my lab. If you don't like it, you're free to leave." Utter silence greeted her outburst, and Booth took an involuntary step back. She turned back to Zach, gentling her tone a tad. "I need you to go back over every bone in that body and give me a complete cataloging of every fracture, healed or fresh." Avoiding eye contact with everyone, she turned on her heel and headed for her office. There was a collective sigh at the release of tension her departure provided. Suddenly everyone found things that needed their immediate attention. Booth watched his partner go into her office and debated the wisdom of following her. Straightening his tie and shooting his cuffs, he decided he was up for it.
Brennan sighed as Booth came into her office. "I should have locked the door," she muttered irritably. He made himself at home as she sat in her desk chair, trying to ignore him. He was having none of that.
"What's up, Bones? I've never seen you this irritable." He propped an ankle on the opposite knee and admired his rainbow socks.
Brennan sighed. She really didn't want to do this with him right now, but she knew he wasn't going away until they did. "It was a stupid mistake. Totally unlike Zach. Maybe I could have been more diplomatic in handling it, but that is between me and Zach. I'll talk to him later, make it right."
Booth studied her, shaking his head. "That's not why I'm in here. Something else is going on here." He wiggled his foot, leaning back, hands folded behind his head. "Friday night."
Brennan's lips thinned as her temper rose again. "Of all the egotistical, self important…" she trailed off as Booth grinned, the last response she expected. "Did you come in here for any reason other than to piss me off?" she demanded heatedly.
That wiped the smile off his face. Dropping his hands to his thighs, he sat forward. "That was not my intent," he said softly. He sighed. "Look, Bones, this isn't like you. In the lab, you're the queen of cool logic. What else could be going on with you?"
She stared at him, her rage seeping away. Closing her eyes, she dropped her head forward in defeat. "Okay, I admit it," she confessed at last, looking up to meet his eyes. "I haven't slept more than a few hours at a time since you left Friday night. Happy now? Is that what your ego needed?" she asked harshly, aware she wasn't being fair, but unable to help herself.
Booth leaned forward further, holding her gaze steadily. "You know better than that, Temperance," he said softly. "It seems I'm not the only one who doesn't find limbo comfortable. Is there anything I can do?" he offered far more gently than she deserved.
Closing her eyes, she turned her face away. Tears choked her and all she could do was shake her head. Suddenly he was there beside her, pulling her up out of her chair and into his arms. Leaning her cheek on his chest, she fought the urge to cry until it was gone, replaced by a new feeling of contentment. Pulling back, she looked up at him.
"You call this professional behavior?" she asked with a glimmer of a smile. Booth smiled tenderly.
"Hey, I can't give my partner a 'guy hug'?" he asked, relieved that he seemed to have defused her anger.
"Not when you look at me like that," she retorted softly. "If you even try to kiss me in my office, I'll have you flat on your back before you know what hit you," she threatened, only half kidding. Booth took a step back and put up his hands in mock surrender.
"Hey, you don't have to tell me twice. I've seen you in action," he teased. His smile faded. "You okay now?"
She nodded and sat back down, pulling a file toward her. "I'll be fine. I'll, uh, see you later." And with that he was dismissed. Booth stood there another minute, then left without another word. Some things just needed to be left alone to work themselves out. The fact that Friday night had unbalanced her to this extent gave him hope that things might go his way. He left the Jeffersonian with a lighter step than he'd come in with.
