A/N Thank you for all the support folks - the reviews and messages of support for my writing and the situation with my mom's health and hospice has been overwhelming and sustaining in a very difficult time...I feel it, stronger than just words on a screen!
I want to give a special thank you to givesup who continues to be a huge support... my sweet husband, who loved all your feedback for chapter 9 which is one of his favorite chapters, pointed out the other night that while he pushed me to post I never would have without givesup's encouragement :) he knows me well!
Hope you enjoy this chapter...
He woke first this morning, tangled in her, it seemed so comfortable, natural. Yesterday had brought more change and progress in both her and the case than he ever could have guessed. Despite the worry and franticness of trying to find her last night had ended well. This morning he had an idea. All these days he had let her sleep as long as she could in the morning, not this morning. He leaned over gently moving the hair away from her face and whispered her name long and drawn out in her ear, "Bones."
It tickled; she swatted at him and groaned. "Booth," it was whiny, she sounded whiny. He wasn't sure he had ever heard her actually whine like this before. He chuckled.
"Bones, wake up I have plans for this morning."
"Plans? Why? It's early." she complained while rubbing her eyes. His hand, which was resting on her waist, slid along her body as she stretched beneath him. Uuuuugh, he managed to contain his groan. She was so beautiful and strong and right here under his fingertips, so close. He rolled quickly out of bed fighting the urge to chase her stretch and run his hand firmly up the side of her body.
"Come on, get up! We're going to go running! I'm . . . I'm going to the bathroom . . . to change . . . so hurry up, Bones!" she watched as his boxer and t-shirt clad body disappeared.
Pretty soon they were jogging along a familiar path in the park. Her ponytail swayed back and forth, their feet pounding a steady pace, hearts pumping hard, lungs breathing heavy, minds in a constant steady flow of contemplation. It felt good, very good. And when they stopped and cooling down she told him just that. "This was a good idea, Booth." Walking in circles and stretching her legs, her breath still heavy, she was about to tell him all the biological ins and outs of dopamine and serotonin release when his phone rang.
It was Shaw with a case update. Brennan was anxious, pacing back and forth, waiting for him to get off so she could find out the details. It seemed like forever. Like time had slowed down and was getting slower and slower until it was hardly moving at all. Finally he finished, sat down on a planter, rubbing his face with his hands.
"Booth?" she sat down next to him.
No sense in delaying, "Okay, Bones, they have the guy who's DNA was a match at the Hoover for questioning. I told them to wait, I want to be there." His jaw was pulsing again, rapid and hard, she could see the muscles flexing. "They have a list of several woman that filed police reports all of which sounded a lot like yours. They went to meet someone at the club, the person didn't show, they waited for a long time, bar gets busy, nice prospective guy comes along asks to sit at their table, not too long and they are dizzy and nauseous and headed to the bathroom, guy 'helps' them outside and it all becomes a blur at some point until they wake up in the alley. Shaw is trying to reach them now and set up interviews. So, are you –"
"I want to meet with Sweets! If I start meeting with Sweets today will they let me go on those interviews with you, to see the other women. You need a woman there, Booth, with you, correct? Given the sensitive subject matter, it would be appropriate in this situation. Anthropologically speaking woman confide and relate more to other women than to men seeing men as the aggressors as a whole and not trusting them to understand their plight as much as another woman. I can relate to their experience having suffered a similar violent event. I can do that."
This woman, he looked at her almost blankly, such a long and involved explanation, justification, why couldn't she just say I want to go, it's important to me. Really, if he was honest with himself, the problem was he had a hell of a time telling her no, no matter what she asked or how she asked it. "I'll talk to Sweets and Cullen, are you up to going to the Hoover with me?"
The question had barely left his lips before she answered. "Yes."
"Okay, then, we'll swing by my house so I can shower and change and then yours, okay? Then we're off to the Hoover, Bones." He tried to sound cheery and triumphant.
Brennan had been wrapped up in her own world, struggling with the idea of meeting with Sweets but anxious to be with Booth when he interviewed the other possible victims. She was so consumed with her own thoughts that at first she missed the shift in his mood. As they got closer to the Hoover, however her awareness of him became almost overshadowing to everything else around her. He had grown nearly silent but she could feel his intensity, it was loud, almost screaming at her. At first she wondered if he was mad at her, she started thinking back over the morning and what she may have done to upset him. Maybe she had pushed too hard to work with him again, to be there when he interviewed the other victims. As they took the elevator up to Booth's office she became transfixed with the muscles pulsing over his strong mandible and maxillary plates, the pulsing pounded out a steady rhythm. Her attention fell to his hand. He kept clenching it into a tight fist then stretching his fingers out wide then pulling them back into a tight fist again. She felt the pressure of the hand that rested on the small of her back steadily increase until he had slid it around her waist and pulled her tightly to him. She realized that it had to be more than something she did.
"Booth, what is wrong?" it was a plain and simple question with no plain or simple answer.
"I'm not sure if the man we have in custody here was the person who approached you at the bar or one of the others." He didn't want to tell her that she was his big concern – that this would all be too much for her.
Her heart started to race, "here?"
"Here, yes," he didn't catch it at first, that she had missed that part of the conversation entirely. "We know for sure he was one of the men who assaulted you. We have DNA in evidence." What Booth was saying seemed to be getting softer and softer, the pounding of her heartbeat louder and louder. "BONES!" she was yanked back to reality. He was sitting her down in a chair and forcibly pushing her head between her knees.
She fought back, "It's okay, Booth, I'm okay. I'm okay." Squatted down by her side, rubbing her back, he wasn't reassured as he looked on her pale, colorless expression. "I'm okay. I can try and ID him. I can do it." Truth was it scared her to death; she had been so focused on getting cleared to work with Booth that her brain had skipped over the part where one of men that raped her was there, in the Hoover. But, she knew she had to do it, she had to get back to working with him so she would meet with Sweets and she would do her best to ID her attackers. She would do anything she had to do. She would push through it.
Booth did that thing he did where he looked straight into her soul searching for the truth in what she was saying and he found it. He moved himself so that he was right in front of her and took both of her hands in his. "Temperance, you are the most amazing woman I know." She didn't feel amazing, she felt weak to all these emotions, batted about by them. In some respects she longed for the days before Booth when she hadn't let people or feelings or emotions in beyond her walls. But then she looked at him, as he continued to tell her how strong she was and brave and how he was here with her and would stand by her. She decided it was better to feel something, even this, than to be alone. She squeezed his hands tightly. Wishing that somehow that would convey how important he was to her since she couldn't find the words.
"Bones, so here is what is going to happen. I have to meet with Cullen and Sweets. I am going to propose to them that they sign off on light duty while you meet with Sweets, until he completely clears you for regular duty, okay?" she nodded showing compliance. "I want you to stay in here, in my office, no wondering around without me today. I will meet with them in the conference room and I promise I will go straight there and straight back here, okay? You won't miss anything. I'll tell you everything. I won't go anywhere or do anything without telling you."
"Booth, I am NOT a child," her indignation flashed, she didn't like the way he was talking to her.
"No, you're not a child, you're right, you're absolutely right. I didn't mean for you to feel that way. But," he paused and readjusted his position, now kneeling on his knees in front of her and gently cradling her face in his hands, "but I don't want you to run into that man alone in the halls while they're transferring him or something. Bones, it's really hard for me not to walk in there right now and beat the living shit out of him. I know what he did, I know he's guilty. He hurt my partner, my friend, the woman I love most in this world. I want him dead. And if he were to say or do something to you today I would, I would kill him. I would not be able to control myself. So, please, not because you're a child but because I need your help, just stay here. I promise I won't make you wonder what's going on or make you wait, okay?"
Her eyes were glassy, she was holding back her tears, but, she couldn't hold back everything she felt for this man kneeling before her. She leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Her lips brushed his hesitantly, then slid to the side of his cheek about half on the edge of his lips, and fell softly into a kiss. She lingered there for a moment. She wanted to give him more, she wanted to give him everything but not here, not yet, she needed to get a little stronger first. He pulled back brushing her lips with his thumb softly. "You're dehydrated, Bones," he smiled and winked at her, "I'll have Charlie bring you some water." Then he pulled himself up off the ground and left her in his office closing the door behind him.
She watched as he leaned down and talked to Charlie at his desk then patted him on the shoulder and walked off – she suspected that he told him to keep an eye on her, though she was sure that Charlie would deny it if she asked and it didn't really matter. She started to feel the nervousness take hold and fought hard to keep it at bay. Yesterday, today, it seemed when she was out she panicked, no longer trusting her ability to take care of herself with the confidence she had before this all happened. She would have to fight the panic, tough it out, build her confidence back up again. In the meantime, she paced in his office, sat in one chair then another trying to calm herself, started to bite one of her fingernails then stopped herself, and tried controlled her breathing. Regardless of her efforts her heart was starting to race, until she saw him, Booth, walking back with Cullen and Sweets. They couldn't have finished a meeting; Booth hadn't been gone long enough to have a meeting. They were followed by Charlie with a bottle of water for her.
"Hey, Dr. Brennan," Sweets greeted her first with an overabundance of enthusiasm. She acknowledged him, still trying to figure out what was going on.
Cullen spoke next, "Dr. Brennan, you're looking well." She hesitantly thanked him. "We thought it best to have this meeting with you since it concerned you and your work with us here at the FBI. She was anxious before they included her in the meeting, now she wasn't at all sure whether this meant good news or bad. She was likely to misread situations like these on a good day, today was already not a good day, good week, good month. She fought to calm herself and looked to Booth for cues as to whether she had cause to be nervous. She felt his hand at the small of her back leading her to a chair; she let her breath out cautiously, her fingers nervously playing with the wrapper on her water bottle. Booth seemed calm.
"Well, Dr. Brennan, Booth tells me you would like to be with him when he approaches the other possible victims. I've given it some thought, talked to Dr. Sweets here about it and Caroline Julian, and made a decision. Really, we can't let you work your own case, Caroline tells me it could become a problem when we go to trial." She could feel the emotions rising up powerfully in her chest as she tried to remain calm. Booth's hands landed on her shoulders and squeezed lightly, she took it as a show of solidarity and syphoned all the strength she could pull from it. She was holding her eyes open, sure that tears would roll down her face if she blinked. "However, she also told me that if you were to go with Booth as another victim, not in the official capacity as his partner, it could have a positive influence encouraging these other ladies to help with the case." It seemed like forever since she had exhaled. Cullen smiled as he watched the relief wash over her expression. "My one stipulation is that you meet with Dr. Sweets or another doctor here at the FBI at least once a week starting today. I know you are one hell of a woman, very strong, incredibly intelligent, and might want to manage all this on your own. Meeting with Dr. Sweets does not make you any less of a person in our eyes. I expect that you will be back to full duty in no time, we need you to be, Booth needs you to be. I'm sure you know you have the full support of your partner but I want you to know you have to full support of this office behind you as well." She nodded her acknowledgement.
"Okay, next order of business, we have a man here for questioning, his DNA implicates him as one of your attackers and possibly other women. We realize that you were heavily drugged during the assault so while we are asking you to take a look at him and see if you remember him from that night. It's understandable if you don't. We don't want you to feel any pressure to make an ID. We know regardless that he was involved. Are you comfortable with going into the observation room and taking a look at him, seeing if he looks familiar?"
He didn't have to tell her that the man wouldn't be able to see her – she was very familiar with the observation room. She had been in it before, seemed like a million times or more, watching Booth interrogate people or Sweets or other agents for that matter. "Yes, I will do my best, I will be honest, and whatever the truth is that is what you will get from me."
"Are you okay with Dr. Sweets being with you in the observation room agent Booth here would like to sit in on the interrogation?"
She looked at Sweets, felt Booths hands rubbing lightly back and forth over her shoulders, her attention drifted back to Cullen. "Yes, I think I can do that." She would have preferred to have Booth there but she had known Sweets for years now and he knew he'd be in the middle of all her thoughts and reactions to this situation soon enough whether she wanted him there or not. She could do this, she reassured herself, she could.
"Okay then, we're going to head over there in a few minutes." He slapped his thighs as if to say he was done and leave then stopped, looked at Sweets and continued, "Dr. Brennan, being in there identifying an attacker may be a different experience than you have ever had before. If you need to leave the room to get some air you just tell Dr. Sweets and he'll get you out of there, okay?" He gave Dr. Sweets a sharp look of instruction, a warning to watch after her, be aware of her state of mind, and move her out of there if he thought it necessary. She agreed, opened the water, and took a long drink avoiding the need to join in the small talk.
Everything was carefully orchestrated. Charlie came in and told them that things were set in the interrogation room. A representative from Metro police department was there too. She would later learn that Cullen had worked a deal with the Metro Police Chief, they would handle the case with minimal involvement from Metro but Metro would take the credit in the end. They would thank the FBI and Jeffersonian for their help in the investigation. Caroline Julian would assist the district attorney in the prosecution of the case. As the men stood and headed out of Booth's office Booth, himself, hung back. He took her hand loosely in his. His fingers were barely brushing and nervously playing with her fingers. He walked with her.
"So, you're okay with this arrangement then?"
She looked at him carefully, "I'm anxious . . . very anxious, but I will be okay, Booth."
He opened the observation room door for her and turned her over to Sweets. She walked up to the glass and stood by him looking purposely everywhere but at the suspect, then closed her eyes, squared her shoulders, and tried to breathe.
Sweets' voice echoing in her head, "There's no rush, Dr. Brennan, take your time and whenever you're ready . . ." then eventually it trailed off.