AN: I'm going to be trying something new in regards to what characters I follow in this chapter. And please ignore my typos; I'm typing on a laptop and I suck at it.
Angela sat at her desk the next day with nothing to do. There were a few girls scheduled to come in that day to describe a man who had attempted to kidnap them. She was scheduled to meet with 6 girls who had all been able to describe the man. It was supposed that there were more girls out there who had come in contact with the same man, and two girls were currently missing. The government didn't want to take any chances, so they arranged for Angela to make the composite sketch. She drummed her fingers on her desk distractedly. She let her mind wander. She thought about the twins she had identified just yesterday. The parents knew their girls were dead, and Booth was chasing a serial number. Brennan had received the girls' medical files late last night. She and Zack had been working to reconstruct the bodies of the girls so they could determine the cause of death. She had tried twice the day before and once today to make Brennan tell her about Booth. Brennan continued to say that nothing was happening, yet she still continued to avoid contact with Booth, and she relapsed into using multi-syllabic technical jargon in his presence. Angela was slowly going nuts over this Brennan-Booth thing. She was forming her next line of questioning for her friend when a blonde girl no more than five years old walked slowly into her office followed closely by her worried-looking mother.
"Are you Angela Montenegro?" the other asked of the artist.
"Yes I am. Is this Jessica?" The little girl nodded. "Great. Why don't we go upstairs? It's a slightly better environment," she said, looking around at some of the artwork not quite suitable for five year old eyes. "Miss, if you could, please wait here. It will be easier for Jessica to talk to me if you're not around." The mother nodded reluctantly before dropping behind and watching her child leave with the artist she had just met.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Amy paced back and forth in her kitchen as she did every morning. It was still an hour until her girls would wake up. This had somehow become her morning routine before she realized that it had become her routine. She was always up at least an hour before the girls. This was her designated time to worry. What the hell was she expected to do since Russ had disappeared? He had promised to pay for Hailey's medical bills. She should have known it was too good to be true. They had just started making plans for a new life together when he disappeared. Desperate, she rooted through Russ' things until she found a short list of phone numbers, most belonging to his friends and ex coworkers. One was listed as "Tempe." No way could it be referring to Arizona. It seemed familiar. Why had he gone to DC? To meet his sister. What was her name? Temperance. Was Tempe her nickname? He said she was a world-renown forensic anthropologist and author. He sounded so proud when he spoke of her. Digging further through his things, she had produced a copy of her novel. Now convinced that "Tempe" was his sister, she gathered up the courage and called her. Obediently, she agreed to call back the next morning because Temperance was busy and seemed distracted. The answers she got didn't really help when they came.
Temperance Brennan seemed like a good woman. She, too, had been hurt by the disappearance of Russ. She had not only faced his disappearance once, but twice. She had admitted to the woman that she didn't know some of the details of her family's history- what to believe or who to trust. Russ had been the last member of the family she had trusted, and he had disappeared. Things didn't sound too good in the Brennan family. Maybe the girls were better off without Russ. Amy hoped so, because if things weren't better without Russ, she didn't know how she would react. Her life had already grown more difficult since Russ' disappearance. Her girls were smart, and they'd asked all the questions she had prayed they wouldn't.
- - - - - - - - - - -
Placing the phone back on its cradle, Brennan leaned back into the leather of her office chair. What had Russ done now? Did her seriously think that life on the run would be better than a life with Amy? She seemed nice enough. Was it the financial responsibility? Perhaps. Maybe it was the fact that he would have to be responsible, which he most definitely was not.
She swiveled in her chair to face the dark screen of her computer. While she waited for it to power up she let her mind drift. The first thing that came to mind was Booth. What was it about him? He drove her nuts. She was more than physically attracted to him. He was a truly nice person, but she didn't want to risk getting hurt another time. The rational part of her brain told her that he wouldn't do that. He couldn't. He's Booth. He couldn't leave even if he wanted to, not without Parker. Rebecca would never let him have Parker forever, and he wasn't stupid enough to kidnap him.
The part of her brain that acted like a scared little girl decided to join the conversation. Responsibility? Did it really matter? No. At the deepest part of each person lies a selfish beast. Sometimes the beast takes over an otherwise normal person and makes them act out of character. Booth was just as susceptible to the beast as anyone else; he was capable of hurting her. But was it worth it to create distance for something that may or may not happen in the future?
Rationality kicked in again. Booth made her happy. Nothing seemed to make her happy these days. Didn't she owe it to herself to be happy? Yes, yes she did. She had resolved to not ignore Booth when Zack came in for her. Something about bones, as usual.
She had just put on a fresh pair of gloves as Booth hurried up the steps to the platform.
"Yo, Bones," he called. "Got something to discuss with you. Come on," he indicated that they should take a walk.
"What," she said impatiently. "I was just about to-"
"I know," he interrupted. "Something gross. I traced the serial number on the pump. It's in Washington right now with a Mister Keith Nichols."
"Well, at least it's close."
"Bones, I meant Washington State. I'm having agents check him and his insulin pump out right now. Do you know how out girls died?"
"Well, right now it appears that one of the skulls has evidence of blunt force trauma to the back, and the other needs to be reconstructed."
"And that will be
done…."
"It will be done as soon as I'm done with it. Now,
can I please get on with it?"
"Yes. Go do your
skull thing. I just thought you might like to know about the pump
lead."
"I do want to know about it. Thank you." She turned
and retreated back to the platform, to a table holding several
fragments of skull and bottles of Elmer's glue.
It took her mere minutes to glue the skull together again because it was in several large chunks. Zack walked over to her just as she was sure the glue was dry. In his hands he held two large envelopes.
"Pamela and Erin's medical records. Maybe now we can sort the bodies definitely," he said by way of greeting.
The sorting would normally take several hours, but Brennan and Zack worked together, quickly and silently. Though they worked quickly, they were careful not to ignore any detail. The process was also made easier by the fact that the girls had both suffered many bone injuries as children. Compared to other cases Brennan had worked in her career, this one was simple. That, combined with Zack's efforts and Brennan's determination had made the process go considerably faster. Several hours later the two anthropologists were searching the completed skeletons for any indicators that would lead them to the cause of death. One anthropologist per skeleton made the work faster.
"The apparent cause of death on Pamela is blunt force trauma. I see no other recent injuries that would be indicative of a struggle. She was struck from behind. She never saw the attack coming," Zack concluded.
"Yes. Erin's death seems to be caused by blunt force trauma as well. She also has multiple fractures to the ulnae and to the ribs. Erin saw the attacker. I'll call Booth," Brennan concluded.
"There's no need to call Booth," Zack said. Brennan looked around the platform and her eyes caught Booth swiping his Jeffersonian ID to enter the platform.
"What are we calling Booth for?" the agent asked, a smile plastered to his features.
"We've identified the causes of death," Dr. Brennan said matter-of-factly. "Both were killed by blows to the back of the head. Pamela never saw it coming, but Erin did."
"That's great, " Booth said. "But all of that comes to nothing until I find a suspect. I have the guys over at the FBI lab searching through the girls' computer. Checking emails, chat logs, every text that's saved on the thing. Maybe we'll get somewhere. I hope so." As if on cue, Booth's cell began shrilling. Brennan listened to a series of short noises came from Booth. When the call concluded, she looked at him expectantly.
"Well?" She questioned.
"What makes you assume that every call I receive is your business?"
"Well, I just figured that since you didn't lapse into a conversational tone, that it was business related. Seeing as your business often crosses paths with my business, I made the assumption that it was something you'd share with me eventually. Was I incorrect?"
"No. My boys found a chat log that indicated that at least one of the Parker girls went to meet up with a group of friends. It took some persuading to get her out, but she went. Right now it's just a list of screen names, but the lab guys are working to get real names from the messenger service. It shouldn't take too long. It looks like we're finally getting somewhere." He glanced down at his watch. "In the mean time, it's lunch time. What do you say we hit the diner? My treat."
"I don't know, Booth."
"Come on, what else are you going to do? You've already identified the cause of death for both girls."
"Reexamine them. Make sure I haven't missed anything. Zack and I ran a quick scan for anything huge that stood out. Fractures, breaks, cuts, we were looking for anything. But I haven't really had a close look."
"Later. Come to lunch now."
"Later. I don't know what's going to happen later. You could get a call with the identities of the online chatters. Then what? We'd be going after them. I need to do this now, while I have the time."
"When are you going to eat?"
"When it's convenient. I'd just feel better if I could examine them more thoroughly."
"I'll take you back here after lunch, regardless of who does or does not call me."
"Fine. All of this back and forth is wasting time anyway. Your treat." The two left the lab side by side, walking at a comfortable pace. Within minutes they were at the diner. It was close to the lab. It was a comfortable spot. It was the site of their first glimpse into the world of life beyond mere partnership.
They seated themselves across from each other at a small table. Before either of them had said a word, a girl by the name of Dana came to the table and took their orders. After she left, the pair sighed in unison.
"So," they both started.
"So," Brennan repeated.
"Go ahead," Booth coaxed.
"Booth, I want to know what's going on with us."
"Now you bring it up," he joked.
"Yeah. Where do we stand? Friends, more that friends, or are we somewhere in between? I mean, the other night," she trailed off. "I know you feel that sex is usually about more than the sex, so…" again she trailed off.
"How do you feel about it?"
"How do I feel? Honestly, I have feelings for you, Booth." For the first time, she admitted her feelings about him. Neither of them spoke for ten seconds, twenty seconds. To Brennan the time seemed to stretch for eternity.
"Yeah. I have feelings for you too. I have for a long time."
"Wow. It's been so long since I've actually had feelings for someone. I've been with men, but I've never truly felt anything."
"Then why have you been avoiding me like a disease?"
"I don't know." At that moment Dana reappeared with their orders. As booth was finishing his pie, his phone began its familiar tune from his pocket. He shifted and extracted the small device. Brennan watched him answer with short words and conclude with a request to have the information sent to his phone. He paid the bill and indicated that they should leave.
"My boys found the real identities to the messenger names. Names and information is being sent to my phone. Time to get you back to the lab."
"I told you this was going to happen. Now I really don't want to go back to the lab, but I have a responsibility to work further."
"You can relax, Bones. By the time I work things out, it will probably be too late to go knocking on people's doors. So I'll take you back to your lab so I can stay true to my word. I'll go through every detail of these people. We'll go out tomorrow to see some of these creeps."
"Fine. As long as we catch this person, this thing, that thinks it's alright to kill and that they'll get away with it."
"I know, Bones. I know." The vehicle rolled to a stop outside the Jeffersonian and Brennan got out. She wished Booth a good evening before entering the building. As she worked silently through the twin skeletons, Brennan found herself missing Booth standing behind her. She actually missed his incessant questioning and lame jokes. She found herself vaguely wondering what would unfold between herself and the FBI agent. She wondered what would happen the next day as they questioned the list of online friends.
A/N: Again, short. But you see, I needed to post something. I'm feeling guilty. For future reference, I'm ignoring all new episodes in this story. So as it stands, this is still right after Judas on a Pole. I appreciate any and all reviews. Oh, and more of everything (investigation, B&B stuff) in the next chapter. Really. I promise it will be longer and better. Still, review please.
