Ah, I have finally caught up with all my Bones. I watched seasons 4 and have like 2 episodes left on Season 5. I have watched every single episode on Season 6. (HATE HANNAH!) I know my story is not really going with what actually happened, but maybe I'll right another one that has to do with Seasons 5 and 6. I am already planning some more stories, but I want to update this one. I plan to have a sequel to this one too :)
Booth sat at Brennan's kitchen table, gulping down coffee and staring out the window, watching the sun rise in DC.
The nightmares were more frequent for him last night. He could tell Brennan was having a tough time, too. But he didn't dare go in her room. Not after what happened in the Lab. It was too dangerous, their feelings for each other.
They were both running on high emotions. Booth knew what he was feeling was his true feelings. But he wasn't sure about Brennan's…
Bones. His Bones. She confused him so much. But he loved it. He wasn't sure where he would be without her.
He sighed, running a hand over his face. He brought his cup up to his lips, only to find it empty.
He stood up and walked over to the coffee maker to refill it.
Brennan crawled out of bed, hesitant to leave the warm cocoon of covers. Each day was getting colder. Thanksgiving and Christmas would be here in no time at all.
She knew they had an important job to do today, but she just wasn't in the mood.
She wondered what was wrong with herself. Could she be sick? When didn't she want to solve murders? It wasn't that she didn't want to solve the murders, it was just that she wasn't getting enough sleep and she needed her utmost focus on the tasks ahead of her. The smallest mistake could let a murderer go free.
The nightmares had been horrible last night and she wondered what she would do about them. She was reluctant to tell Sweets about them; she didn't think he could help at all.
She had expected…hoped…that Booth would come in and comfort her like he did the night before. But the other half of her bed remained empty all night, resulting in her restless sleep and her cranky mood.
She grabbed a sweatshirt and through it on, shivering.
She wandered into the living room, but found the blankets already folded up. Apparently Booth didn't sleep well either, she thought to herself.
She headed toward the kitchen, where she could hear some clanging. Booth still hadn't gotten the hang of her coffee maker.
She paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of Booth without him noticing. It seemed right to her, having Booth standing there in her kitchen with low slung plaid flannel pajama bottoms and no shirt.
She took a deep breath, keeping her feelings in check. She was just going to pretend like nothing had ever happened between them. They would work together and that was it.
Ah, Booth. How he left her so conflicted.
Booth paused in what he was doing as he felt someone's eyes on him.
He turned around and saw Brennan with rumpled bed hair. It was weird seeing her in a sweatshirt when he usually saw her in a lab coat or dress clothes.
"Morning Bones," he called with extra cheerfulness. He was trying to get things back to normal, for her sake. He could tell he was trying too hard, but she didn't pick up on social cues like that anyway. "I would offer you a cup but…" he gestured helplessly to the coffee maker.
"I'll get it," she said, crossing the kitchen soundlessly in her stocking feet. She had her back to him as she fiddled with some buttons.
"You know, you should really put on more clothes. The temperature is plunging out there, and you don't want to get sick. Then you'll never catch your murderers," Brennan tried to offer helpfully as coffee squirted into the cup.
She handed the mug to him. "Thanks Bones. But I'm fine," he said, half limping back to his seat. The cold was making his leg really act up, though he tried his damndest not to show it.
Brennan filled up her mug with ease. She cradled it in her hands gently, warming them. She leaned against the counter, unwilling to sit down.
"So what time do you think we are going to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Matthews?" Brennan asked.
Booth winced as the hot liquid slid down his throat. "I'm not sure yet. As soon as possible. We can stop at the lab after we talk to them to see what the squints have picked up. "
Brennan nodded, ignoring his comment about the squints. She knew he didn't really mean it in a bad way. He sometimes fondly called her that, even though 'Bones' was his nickname for her. She also never failed to remind him that he would be nowhere without her team. Well not nowhere, but close enough.
They lapsed into an awkward silence.
They both looked out the window, watching as the sun rose higher, bathing everything in a golden glow. They were ticking the minutes away until they could finally go and get some work done.
Brennan felt useless just standing there, so she went over to the table and took Booth's mug with her own and dumped them in the sink. She quickly rinsed them and swept them into the dishwasher.
She reminded herself to put the dishwasher on when she got home. With Booth staying here, she was using twice the amount of dishes she normally did.
She turned around to find Booth staring at her. Even though she felt weak at the knees, she kept her composure and she was sure Booth noticed nothing. She had to work extra hard to keep her feelings from Booth, but it was possible.
"About last night," she started at the same time he said, "I wanted to talk to you about…"
She paused. She had learned from Booth that it was the proper thing to do to let someone else speak first. But Booth didn't seem to be finishing his sentence so she hurriedly went on to finish.
"Last night should not have happened," she said brusquely. "Especially since we were in a working environment. I believe we decided that this wouldn't work and that we should stick to a working relationship. I thought you felt the same way. So you agree with my conclusion, right?"
Booth's face crumpled. He bit his tongue, shoving his question that he was going to ask her in the back of his mind. He hated that when Brennan got scared; she hid behind her cold façade and colorful vocabulary.
But he wasn't going to push her today, not when they had things they needed to get done. Still, he couldn't help but say something on the matter.
"This is just like what happened in the hospital," he said, shaking his head. "You know, you're not making this easy at all."
"Me?" she bit her lip, not quite understanding. She opened her mouth but he cut her off.
He was already in a bad mood from not sleeping last night, and this was killing him. "You're right, Bones, as usual. We don't work at all. Nothing should have ever happened between us. Nothing ever will. Never," he spit out.
He saw her eyes widen. He never talked with her in such a tone; he was usually the most patient with her, but he was sick of the mixed feelings.
"Well, I'm glad we agree on something," she said back just as coldly.
They glared at each other, neither of them happy with the decision, but neither was willing to back down.
Booth was the first to crack a smile, instantly lightening the mood. Brennan let the tension roll out of her shoulders, glad they could avoid a real altercation.
Booth glanced at the digital clock on the kitchen stove. "Well, I have just enough time to take a shower before we need to get going."
"Wait, who said you get to take a shower first?" Brennan protested, considering she needed a shower, too.
"Bones, its common courtesy, you let the guest take a shower first," Booth said, moving into the living room to get his overnight bag.
"What kind of rules are those? You just made them up like any other male would. Besides, it's my house," she said, inching her way in her room to get some of her clothes.
They eyed each other, sizing each other up and Booth resisted the urge to start laughing. He could just as easily take a shower after Bones, but this was just way too much fun.
He looked directly behind her, which distracted her and made her look behind her as if there was something there.
Booth saw his chance. He dashed to the bathroom, bag in hand, and clicked the lock satisfyingly behind him.
"Booth!" Brennan screamed from the other side, pounding her hands on the door. "That was not right in any way. You will definitely pay for that," she promised.
"What sorry, can't hear you!" he called, turning on the shower.
He heard her growl and stomp away.
He gave a low chuckle and snagged a towel out of the bathroom closet.
"And make sure you don't use up all the hot water!" she called.
He stepped in the shower.
"Thanks for letting us in," Booth said to the middle aged woman who answered the door. She only let them in after he showed her his badge. She vaguely reminded him of Carly Matthews. "You are Mrs. Matthews right?"
"Yes, that's me," she said, leading them into the kitchen. "What's the FBI need at my house?" she asked curiously. Then realization hit. "Have you found anything on Carly?" she squealed.
Booth and Brennan looked at each other.
"Robert, get in here! The FBI found something on Carly!" Mrs. Matthews yelled.
They heard some banging, a loud crash and a curse, and then Robert Matthews made his appearance.
He was an older man, with the start of a beer belly. He was balding on the top of his head, but the hair that was left was a light brown.
Brennan noticed his facial structures strongly resembled Carly's photo. There was no question on who her father was.
"You can call me Rob," Mr. Matthews said politely, shaking each of their hands. "So you guys have news on Carly?"
Mrs. Matthews was wringing her hands, looking so hopeful with tears in her eyes. "Please tell me you've found her." The pain in her voice was palpable; even Brennan noticed.
"Just let them talk Sue," Robert said, not quote snapping, but he made his point clear.
Booth pulled the folded picture that Angela had supplied out of his pocket. Smoothing it out a little, he handed it over to the Matthews. "Is this your daughter?" he asked.
They studied it for a few minutes and they both nodded solemnly.
"Does this mean you've found her?" Sue's face wrinkled with expectancy of his answer. It made her look years older then she probably was.
Booth sighed; it never got easier telling a family their son or daughter had passed away. Not only that, they had been murdered.
"We did find your daughter…"Booth started, and they both gasped.
"But she was dead. Most likely murdered," Brennan supplied.
The gasps turned to frowns and hysterical tears. Rob went over to comfort his wife, while Booth glared at Brennan, who just looked at him blankly, wondering what she said wrong. She had just said the facts. It wasn't right of Booth to lead them on with false hope. They had found their daughter dead, end of story.
Sue was inconsolable, hysterically crying and no amount of soothing words could calm her down. Robert himself was having a hard time digesting the news. But he knew the FBI was here for some other reason than to tell them his daughter had been murdered.
He excused himself for a moment, dragging his wife upstairs. They had no clue what he did, but she went quiet and he came back down a haggard look on his face.
"Are you sure it's her?" he asked quietly, collapsing onto a kitchen chair.
"Positive," Brennan confirmed.
"We are so sorry for your loss," Booth said, patting him on the back consolably. He glared at Brennan until she murmured a small condolence.
"Screw your sorry, what is it you want?" he looked up at them with red rimmed eyes.
Booth didn't get mad or lose his temper. He understood that people handled loss differently. He promised to make this quick.
"I need the details on your daughter. When did you first know her to be missing?" Booth said, taking out a notepad and prepared to write.
"Just the other day. She didn't show up to have dinner with us, and when we called she didn't answer. We went up to check her apartment, but it was empty."
"Could you give me the address of that apartment please," Booth said, and copied down the address as Mr. Matthews spouted it off.
Booth asked the other standard questions. He ended with the famous, "Do you know anyone who would want to hurt you daughter? Any boyfriends, exes, anything like that?"
Rob shook his head vigorously. "No, no way. Not my Carly. She was an angel, just got out of college and was ready to start making a living all by herself. She didn't have a boyfriend that I know of…But there was this one guy she introduced us to at the house. He seemed kind of shady." He gave Booth the name who scribbled it down.
Rob showed them to the door. Brennan lagged behind a little, taking in everything at the house in her photographic memory.
"Thanks for the information Mr. Matthews, and if you remember anything else, just give me a call," Booth said, handing over the card.
"Just find out who did this to my daughter please," Robert said.
"We will do our best, sir," Booth said, knowing not to make any promises.
"Good morning Dr. Hodgins, have you found anything of importance?" Brennan asked as she stuck her arm in her lab coat, watching out for the cast. Booth had dropped her off and reluctantly went to his office to get some work done. He had only let her out of his sight because she promised not to go anywhere, but to stay there and work at the Lab until he got back.
Hodgins looked up from the microscope he was inspecting carefully. "Nope, not yet. There isn't much to work with. Everything, skin included, got burned off in the fire. It kind of ticked Cam off."
"Does that mean the bones are clean?" she asked, excited that she would actually get to contribute to the case.
"I think so. Zack's already there," Hodgins said, but Brennan was almost out of earshot before he could finish.
Brennan practically flew to one of many examination rooms. There, she saw Zack hovering over the pristine white bones that had once been a glowing young woman. It was too sad to fathom. Brennan went into the place she had in her mind that made her distant from the world. It was the only way she handled doing these cases.
"Alright Zack, what have you got?"
Zack jumped; he had been so focused on the bones that he hadn't heard Dr. Brennan come in.
He instantly went into a full body report. "There is trauma to the head, and a nick to the C5 rib. It looks like some sort of puncture wound. The knee caps are cracked in a lot of places. It seems that she got hit with something heavy enough to make her immobile. It definitely happened pre-mortem, so she wasn't able to run away from her presumed attacker. It is unclear at this point in time which injury caused death."
"Excellent work Zack," Dr. Brennan said, and Zack swelled with pride.
She leaned over the bones herself, confirming Zack's findings.
Brennan fell silent as she examined the bones, staring so intensely that it sometime made her vision go blurry. She just kept going over the bones in her head, trying to find something that they could go on. But the bones were not being very helpful in this case. At least not yet.
Zack had left at some point, presumably to do some work for Cam.
She grunted in frustration, just as Booth came waltzing in the door.
"Everything okay?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
"No, it is not okay. I haven't found anything the least bit helpful in the bones to solving this case," Brennan said, shoulders sagging.
"Hey Bones don't worry about it. It's only the early stage. You'll find something, you always do." He gave her a crooked smile.
"Thanks Booth. So what have you got?"
"Well, I think we should go to her apartment, see if there is anything there. If we don't find anything useful, we can check out this Andrew McKenna guy. He was her ex boyfriend. But I don't think it was him."
"That is based on pure speculation," Brennan said, finding it annoying when he didn't use facts to back up his hypothesis.
"No Bones, it is based on years of experience. So you ready to check out this apartment or what?"
