He tried to keep his eyes averted as his partner exited the tiny hotel's bathroom wearing nothing but a puffy robe and too much for the imagination. She dried her hair with a white towel as they continued the conversation started earlier when they were on opposite sides of the door.
She walked to the book she had been reading in the coffee shop, picked it up, and sat beside Booth. Without a word, she handed it to him. They knew one another well enough that elaboration was not needed. He flipped through until a photo slipped to his lap.
"The eldest daughter was my mother. Her sisters were named Temperance and Anna."
His lips parted as the pieces fell together. He smiled. "She looks like you."
"My mother probably saw the resemblance and named me after my aunt when she changed my name."
"Bones--"
She stood and quickly changed the subject from her mother. She stood, picked up her hair brush at the counter and began to roughly brush her hair and gesture with it as she spoke. "There's a wedding this weekend and I'm invited. My grandfather is going to be there."
"What about your aunts?"
"They're deceased."
"Bones, I'm sorry--"
"Don't be, Booth. Death is inevitable."
"But you lost the chance to meet them, Bones. It's OK for me to say I'm sorry."
"No, Booth, it's not OK because I'm already fine with it. It's a needless apology. I've never been emotionally attached to either of those women, so there's no loss." Her face said otherwise. It said more. It said that being close to someone had a risk of pain and loss. And Booth knew it all. He stood up and hugged her gently.
But there was something... odd... about that hug. He pulled back long enough to look her in the eyes.
She pushed him away. "It's time for you to go, Booth. It's late."
He made some nervous movements, gathered his jacket and umbrella, then walked to the door where he paused. "Good night, Bones."
"Good night, Booth."
"Hey, I was--" The look she gave him stopped him in his tracks. "Night."
And that was it.
But it was the first clue that he had that somehow he was on the outside of a gigantic secret. Brennan was known for throwing up walls, but whenever she was around him, the walls crumbled--they had no chance. The mortar was weakened by a closeness that was unmatched by any other relationship either had experienced before. But what was it now that kept those walls so firmly held together? When he looked into her eyes for that moment, the levees held tight all of the deep blue secrets and openness that were welled up behind them.
And it hurt to know that that trust they had built was now gone. So he closed the door and silently walked to his hotel room.
---
The room was warm and muggy. An old fashioned metal fan whirred and tried pathetically to cool the small room.
"Nervous?" It was the only thing Hodgins could think to ask his on-again off-again girlfriend.
"No." Short. Succinct. Perhaps a tad bit perturbed.
She tapped her toe. She made a pen tumble between her manicured fingertips. She even began to count the holes in the ceiling tiles.
After a minute more, the door reopened and a short, red headed woman walked in, eyes glued to a standard green file. She took a seat. Folded her hands. Cleared her throat.
And just when Angela was going to say something she would regret, the woman spoke. "There's really nothing we can do, Miss Montenegro."
"Nothing?"
She flipped through the file once again, looked up once to eyeball Hodgins suspiciously, then said, "Ms--uh,--Thien is complying with the state's requests for her to find a home--"
"Have you even seen it? No child should live like that."
"Bimonthly a social worker does check in and everything has been fine so far, otherwise there would be a report sitting right here in this file, Miss Montenegro." Her tone was snippy.
"When was the last checkup?"
"As long as guardians are complying, there's really nothing that we can do. There's a shortage in foster parents, sometimes children sleep in our offices for days before we can find emergency care for them. Taking a child who has a home out of his home is simply foolhardy."
"But I would be his foster parent, Ms Willis. I'm here. I love him--"
"If you loved him, then you'd be creating a relationship with him and your mother and not stirring up a bunch of trouble, Miss Montenegro. Our hands are tied. I don't mean to be rude, but the law is the law and your mother has abode by all regulations set on her by the state. I'm sorry that they don't meet your standards, but sometimes it's the best we can do and it's the better alternative than having another child stuck in an over crowded, under funded system."
Angela simply stared at her coldly.
The woman sighed. "I'll tell you what, Miss Montenegro. I'll put your name in his file and if there are any issues concerning his guardianship or safety, then you'll be the first we call. In the meantime, you can work on becoming a licensed foster parent. Do we have a deal?"
Again, she stared at her.
Hodgins broke the silent stare-off by whispering, "C'mon, Angie."
"Fine," Angela relented. She stood and together they left the office. "Something terrible's going to happen to him," she told Hodgins as they walked through the parking lot.
"It's not our place."
"You're right, Jack. It's not our place. It's my place. Brayden belongs to me by blood. I happen to believe in love at first sight. Sometimes it only lasts a few weeks or years, but sometimes it's meant to be forever. He's my brother. This is forever."
He nodded, his hands in his pockets. "Alright then. I'll help you do whatever you need to do."
"I need to get that license."
"And I'll be by your side, Angela. Every step of the way."
"Thank you." She smiled, not knowing that she would be needing that license a lot sooner than she thought.
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Thank you so dearly for the comment love! I have a rough outline and I think this story is going to be pretty amazing. :) And educational. lol. But mostly amazing. Lots of love, family, and good vibes. ;)
