Author's note: With thanks to Mickeyboggs who patiently revises and comments on this story.
9.
"All I'm saying, Booth, is that I think the two victims were planning to engage in sexual intercourse in that car."
"OK, Bones, first of all, you are not getting involved in this." Brennan folded her arms across her chest, clearly feeling aggravated at the comment. Booth decided not to pay attention. "Second... that's pretty obvious. Who the hell goes to a park- at night- as a couple- to do anything else?"
"Could have been a business transaction..." Booth snorted.
"Not likely. Not unless she was a hooker. Which-" he raised his finger to silence her interruption, "I do not see as likely." She leaned her chin against her closed fist and looked out of the window at the road rolling by. He took a deep breath. A sulking Bones. Man, never a break! "OK, what makes you say that?"
"The male victim was aroused"
"Bones, he was dead..." She gave him a near-exasperated look.
"Yes, Booth, but when he died, he was aroused, and as rigor mortis settled in, and because of a variety of factors- the low temperature, the fact that he was sitting- the state of arousal was preserved."
"So what does that tell us that I didn't know before?"
"Well, I don't know what you knew before, because you did not share it with me, but it tells you that if he was not the first victim- and I don't think he was, because of the blood splatter pattern, it was a quick succession between the time of death of the female victim and that of the male and that the first impact killed him instantly, thus implying, a great deal of force- as the most vulnerable part of the skull is the occipital bone, not the frontal bone."
"OK, so the killer was in a hurry"
"That's jumping to a conclusion, which I'm not comfortable with. But if we got Hodgins to analyze the car and the remains, I'm very sure that he could tell us if the killer took his time to clear up any traces of himself that he might have left behind. That would answer your question of the hurry."
"Bones, it's not our case. You and the Jeffersonian are not involved."
"I only told you my preliminary findings. Clearly, I will not be working the case further, but I though I should share with you what I was able to ascertain. Professional courtesy, as Agent Perotta would say." Man! Never a break! The thought throbbed through Booth's mind like a bad headache.
"So they were there to make out, huh, Bones? Whatever happened to a nice romantic bed, a bedroom..."
"Why, because sex is only good in bed?"
"That's not what I said"
"So what did you say?"
Booth sighed heavily.
"I said that it is far more romantic to take your time, to have your own space, and privacy..."
"Hum... I acknowledge that, but I have to say that, sometimes, the excitement lies in the danger, not in the safety of a bed..."
"The operative word being sometimes" right, Bones?"
"Of course...Though from the evidence, I have no way of knowing if this was the sometimes time or the often times kind of thing..."
"Whichever way it played out, it just goes to show that love hurts, huh, Bones?" He was met a blank, studious gaze.
"I don't think it's love that hurts, but third parties"
"That was deep Bones..."
"You're making fun of me..."
"No... Cross my heart... I just didn't think about it. It was more meant like a joke... you know the song, right? Huh, huh, love hurts...? Like that..." He looked at her, trying to access the likelihood of his stupid apology having been accepted. The fact that she was silent was telling. Crap, foot in the mouth all over again... what was it with him these days- and her? Where was the easy companionship they used to have about everything, especially on her part?
"I just meant that I don't think that love hurts anything. I think it is, generally.... quite pleasant... it's what's outside the couple that causes the pain..." And she retreated back into silence, chin propped on her hand, silently observing the road and the white markings on it with the same intensity she devoted to the bones in the lab. Uh? Was the only thought on Booth's mind from that moment onwards, an echo that only subsided around 4 am when he succumbed to exhaustion.
"Is it true what we saw on the news?" Angela came rushing down the steps of the platform to catch up with Booth who had just walked in with a very broody Brennan. Angela studied her for a minute, wasting no time and drawing accurate impressions- that Booth had put his foot in it yet again.
"What did you see on the news, Angela?" Booth seemed to be in a hurry to leave the Jeffersonian and, even more telling, seemed ill at ease. He was never ill at ease, except if he was sitting with a group of women discussing their period or the pill and that was exactly how he seemed to be feeling. Angela composed herself.
"Second hit, couples making out in parks, always with a baseball bat..."
"Congruent with a baseball bat.... we have no way of knowing if it is or not. We are not on the case, Angela" Brennan corrected, her voice sad.
"Angela, I know you guys are used to participating in everything, but this case is not what you do. We have no trouble identifying the victims, which is the reason why you're called. I mean, they had ID on them... This case stays within the Bureau, we are not subcontracting..." Brennan shrunk visibly, just like she had been slapped. Angela could see her train of thought as clearly as it had been written above her head in red neon lights: subcontract, someone he uses when they need it. Angela felt it herself, acutely.
"Well, it sounds like a serial one. And I was trolling the net a bit and I found a few other bits and pieces that fit this guy's MO..."
Booth grunted, more than answered.
"And?"
"And I can tell you that the guy is working clockwise across the parks in the periphery of DC. Always federal land too. The other cases fell under your radar as local uniforms got the cases, but yeah, I'll bet you my bottom dollar that it is the same guy." Another grunt. "Well, aren't you cheerful today! When you feel more congenial you can come to my office and I'll show you a little map Hodgins and I came up with... you know, just in case you welcome some input from your regular team. The ones that are like family..." And one more grunt. Booth kept his eyes averted from both Angela and Brennan. Angela prodded a bit more while Brennan made herself scarce and headed into her office. "The ones that always deliver- even when it's about saving your tight ass from maniac murderers with no sense of morality..."
"Angela, knock it off, already. I get your point, but what do you want me to do... It's not like we're glued at the hip..." Angela looked over her shoulder in Brennan's office direction and, deciding it was safe, turned on Booth and in a movement that took him sometime to understand how she'd done it, pressed the agent against one of the metal columns of the lab punctuating each of her words with a finger pointing at his forehead:
"WHAT- THE- HELL- ARE– YOU- DOING?" Booth was a bit more than alarmed. Angela looked like an irked cat ready to gouge his eyes out.
"What are you talking about?" From the corner of his eye he saw Hodgins and Cam approaching, listening intently.
"Don't you try to play dumb with me, Booth. I like you. I really do, but you know where my loyalties are. And you don't want to find out what I'm capable of doing if you keeping acting like an idiot. Go away, think carefully about what you're doing these days and then decide, but don't think you can have your cake and eat it!" And she walked towards her office where she slammed the door hard enough to have Booth feel it as the slap to his face she would not physically give him.
"What cake???" He looked to Cam and Hodgins for some support, maybe even sympathy. He found none. Only Hodgins' probing eyes and Cam's reproaching ones.
"You know, Seeley, for someone so perceptive, you're being incredibly dim..." And she walked away, her dangerously high heels marking the rhythm of her disapproval.
"Don't call me Seeley..." He still called out to her, hoping for the old, comforting 'Don't call me Camille' retort. It did not come. "Hey Bug Man, what the hell is this all about? Is every single one of these females PMSing at the same time?"
"Dude..." Hodgins nodded disapprovingly, "man up already... you're skirting dangerously close to being a bastard..."
"Why? I mean, can someone- and I can't believe I'm about to say this- rationally explain to me what the hell is happening?" Hodgins motioned Booth to an out of the way door frame.
"I'm going to tell you the same as Angela: you know where my loyalties are. But I'll tell you one more thing for your benefit... We're slightly dysfunctional but we're still a family here. And if you walk in with one of us- say a sister- who is looking kicked-puppy pitiful you should expect the rest of the family- the brothers, the sisters, and possibly all other relatives to gang up around her and give you hell for it. We've been your people, as much as Dr B's for the last four years. But make no mistake: she is ours and if it comes a time when someone needs to beat the shit out of you- either as a punishment or as a wake up call, I'll be calling dibs on taking the first hit. Get it?" Hodgins seemed to have grown several inches, almost towering over Booth now. Which, after Angela's maneuver, made twice in a day that he was almost manhandled by two – relatively speaking- squint squirts. And he had more questions now than answers. As Hodgins walked away, Booth was torn between the need put some distance between himself and the lab and the need to check on Brennan. She did not throw hissy fits for no reason but his mind refused to acknowledge what his gut kept on repeating to him: bastard, bastard, bastard.
He decided to walk out, to mull things over, to give himself some time to digest the frogs he had just swallowed, fed to him by Angela and Hodgins.
***********
He thought about paying a visit to Sweets. Maybe ask him for some insight on Bones and what was eating at her lately, all moody and... fragile. That was not his Bones. His Bones kicked ass, hell, she kicked his ass when he stepped out of line. His Bones went after what she wanted. Which was a truth written in stone. If it weren't, he might even have thought that she might, in time, come to want him nearly as much as he wanted her. If only she had given him a sign. Which begged the question: if she didn't go after him that was, obviously, because she didn't want him... Right? After all, she had slept in his bed, with no underwear, when he was at his most... vulnerable and had done nothing, made not a single movement towards him. Hadn't she been the one to initiate things with Sully when he had taken too long to make up his mind on how fast to go with her? Then why oh why had he just been cornered at the lab by Angela- whom he knew had always kept her fingers crossed for Bones to give him an opening? Hey, it's not like he was totally stupid or oblivious to the many conversations between the two women he had interrupted. And Hodgins, whom he had always maintained a balance of respect and mutual admiration with... what was that all about?
Booth considered himself a good character reader- motives, dreams, fears, thoughts, everything about nearly everybody. There had been a couple of things he hadn't seen coming- like Rebecca's reaction to his marriage proposal- but almost nothing of what people did ever surprised him anymore. So what was the deal with Bones and, by extension, her gang? What had changed that the woman he had once read like an open book now needed a whole book of instructions?
He decided to give up on the Sweets visit idea. Some things should be kept out of Sweets' office and his twisted inner workings.
