That's Why I'm Here
By LizD
Written July 2011
Chapter Ten
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They were back, baby!
Booth and Brennan were back - only better!
Almost literally overnight they fell back into the routine of partners now that the cloud that had hung over them was dissipated. Once again they were easy with each other like they were two or three years ago before they started slipping down that slippery slope from which they almost didn't recover. Booth looked at her, talked to her, listened to her as he used to. He joked with her and played with her. He felt free to touch her in a platonic, 'she's my partner' kind of way. Brennan too was back to her old self but better. Her tentativeness was gone and the ease with which she complimented Booth was a complete turnaround from a few days ago. It was undoubtedly had a lot to do with the task at hand. They were working as partners again, not Booth in the field and Brennan in the lab, but as partners, together, in sync, working the evidence, looking for the truth, eeking out the modicum of justice that could be found for the poor victims. Booth was convinced that Scott Angel was their man, but he kept an open mind. As always Brennan was convinced that the evidence would stand on its own and reveal the murderer but would not leap to conclusions.
From the moment the decision was made that they were going through the first hour of the flight they were in full work mode and it felt good. They discussed the evidence and they talked through the history of Scott Angel. Booth posited many scenarios and Brennan itemized the evidence they had and would need to find to prove any or all of them. It felt good. It felt better than good. They had years of history between them and now they had a new closeness which enhanced that history.
Booth took the window and slept for most of the flight. Brennan worked on some reports and then on her next book - an idea had come to her and she wanted to get some stuff down so she wouldn't forget. That's what she was working on when Booth woke up and looked over at her monitor. It was a mess of an outline. It was probably supposed to be a version of a murder board but it was very hard to follow. He reviewed the screen without letting her know that he was awake. He had several questions but would start with a comment.
"How can you get a cohesive story out of that mess?" he asked with a light playful tone. "Do all your books start this way?"
She would normally shut her laptop after a comment like that – she hated criticism on a work in process - but this time from him she was OK with it. In fact she was gratified that he was interested.
"I normally work from index cards, post-it notes and a glass board," she said. "But I couldn't fit it in my carry-on bag."
Booth looked over at her and smiled. "You made a joke ... and it was funny."
She shook her head and went back to work but a smile not edged her lips.
"Will you let me consult on this one as you're working on it?"
"Consult?"
"Yeah." He shifted his position slightly and turned the screen toward him a little bit more. "I have a little bit of experience with this kind of thing." He shot her a playful glance. "So what is this one about?"
"It involves the death of an FBI agent who was killed in his sleep," she said flatly.
"Oooh, snap," he joked and sat up. "Another joke or did someone get up on the wrong side of the special agent this morning?"
"I slept on my usual side." She turned the laptop back toward her.
"Look Bones, if I snore or hog all the covers, I'll do better. You don't need to kill me ... or even fantasize about killing me."
"My ... fantasies as concern you are not about death and murder." She shot him a glace quickly. "They are much more enjoyable."
"So you fantasize about me, huh?"
"Yes." There was a lot more she had to say on the subject, but chose to keep reveal little at that point.
He was intrigued by her comment and when they were alone he would question her more about her fantasies. He made a mental note. He leaned back and rang for the attendant. When she came he asked for coffee. The attendant looked at Brennan who shook her head to indicate that she didn't want anything. The attendant smiled broadly at Booth and left. Brennan noticed his return smile and went back to work.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing," she denied. They had had this discussion recently. It was Booth's way to be charming to women. She could deal with it. It didn't mean anything. On the other hand, she had been on the receiving end of that charmed smile more than once and look at them now. She had always liked that about Booth; that he was so charming.
"Come on Bones, let me be your technical advisor on this one ... you don't need to give me credit or anything."
"Credit?"
"Yeah ... and maybe this time you won't need Angela for the juicy parts."
"I never needed Angela, but she is a good collaborator and she knows people."
"I can be a good collaborator," he said playfully. "And I know people."
She finally looked over at him; she couldn't hide her smile. "Yes, you can and yes, you do."
"So?"
She nodded slightly. "Let me get this mapped out in my mind and on paper and we'll talk about it."
"Talk about it?" He wondered if they were going to talk about him consulting or talk about the book.
"You can ... consult."
Booth grinned. "Nice … one point for my side."
"Are we keeping score?"
"Nope." He stretched. "But I'm winning. How long until we land?"
"Thirty minutes."
"First class is nice." He looked around. "I can get used to this." He leaned very close to her and whispered in her ear. "I bet there are a lot of things I'm going to enjoy getting used to."
"Agreed."
He looked down at a note she was making describing of the state of the remains. "Bones ... yuck! Seriously, how do you come up with this stuff?"
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Booth and Brennan deplaned at the Palm Springs Airport at two PM Pacific time. It was a small - smallish - airport; only twenty gates all on one level. Both had been in smaller airports, both had been to airstrips with no gate at all. It was a welcome change from Dulles and LAX with the throngs of people and tight security; which was not to imply that Palm Springs Airport was not secure there was just less to secure. They were lead through a security check point directly from the gate to wait in a holding room. They were both anxious to get to work. Booth was on the phone with the FBI and Brennan was webcasting with Clark Edison, Angela, Hodgins and Cam. There wasn't much new to report but once the car and the samples of Scott Angel's DNA arrived they could start running their comparisons.
"SEELEY BOOTH! Well I'll be a son-of-a-bitch!"
Booth and Brennan turned to see who was there. He was a younger man, younger than Booth by about five or six years. He was big, blonde, blue eyed and very pale considering he was in southern California. Booth couldn't place his name but clearly this guy knew him. The man came over to shake Booth's hand vigorously and he clapped him on the shoulder a little more roughly than Booth's generally liked. The big man turned his attention to Brennan.
"And this vision must be Dr. Temperance Brennan," he took her hand in both of his and shook it warmly. "Not sure how Seeley wound up with a partner of your caliber." He leaned in and lowered his voice. "Booth here barely made it through the forensic science class at the academy."
Booth finally realized who this larger than life man was. He went through the academy with him years ago and didn't like him much back then. He was loud, rude and too familiar. "Bones, this is Jan Svendsen."
"People call me Sven," he corrected releasing Brennan's hand. "Bones, huh?"
"People call me Dr. Brennan," she said evenly.
"Dr. Brennan it is," he agreed but was a little put off. "So Seeley ... how's it hanging, huh? Heard about the big take down with Broadsky - too bad you didn't put a bullet in him where it counted. Thought you were some crack shot, huh? Must have been having an off day."
"You're working out of Los Angeles, these days?" Booth was freshly reminded of all the reasons why he didn't like Sven. "The last I heard you were in Denver."
"That was years ago. Been here in L.A. for the past three. When I heard you were coming, I took the case from Waterson."
"Great ... well, we better get started." Booth stepped back to let Sven lead the way.
"You bet," he agreed leading them out. "We've got about an hour out to Joshua Tree."
"Where's Angel?"
"In jail … cooling his heels … we've got him on a carrying a concealed weapon so he's not going anywhere, anytime soon."
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The car ride was nearly unbearable for Booth. Brennan sat in the back and was able to ignore much of the conversation even though a lot of it was for her benefit from Sven's point of view. He talked non-stop about the people they knew at the academy and Sven had some little anecdote about Booth concerning each person it usually involved drinking and a woman or two.
"Booth was quite a dog in his day," Sven reached across and slapped him on the shoulder. "And by the looks of him I'd say he isn't about to change that any time soon. No one's gonna put her hooks into you, eh Seeley ol' boy. You're too smart for that. Look at you man … you look like you're in better shape now than you were at the academy; bet you got the ladies lining up for tickets. You still running?"
"When I have time." Booth wanted to shut Sven up. It was true that when Booth was younger, when he was in the academy and knew Sven he was a bit of a womanizer – more like serial monogamy. The women he would meet would last a few months, six weeks or the span of a weekend. And he did like to hoist a few with friends after work and he did like the company of women, but he didn't need to be reminded of that time nor did he think Brennan needed that kind of information. He hoped that she had tuned Sven out. The truth was Brennan was listening to every word but was able to work and listen at the same time. Sven's comments gave her a bad impression of Sven and had no bearing on her feelings about Booth.
"Right time … how's that kid of yours? How old is he now? Ten, Eleven?"
"Parker is eleven."
"And the mother? You never made and honest woman of her, huh?"
At this Brennan spoke. "Honest? How is Booth responsible for Parker's mother's state of honesty?"
"He should have married her," Sven said a little confused. He was not used to Brennan's literal nature.
Booth wanted to stop this discussion because there was no telling what would come out of Brennan's mouth. She could defend him by saying that he asked and was refused - Booth didn't really want that out there either.
"Bones -."
"From your question," Brennan said ignoring Booth. "You are implying that Rebecca is not honest because she was unmarried at the time of her son's conception and birth. The institution of marriage is hardly yard stick for honesty. It's an archaic notion. How is an agreement between two people to raise a child any more valid if it is sanctioned by the state? What does honesty have to do with marriage and children? The divorce rate is fifty percent in the United States and fifty percent of those were due to infidelity - a lie between two people. There are thirteen million single parent households in the United States alone. Many women in their twenties, thirties and forties are deciding to have a child on their own foregoing the need for a husband and opting just for a donor only. Four out of every ten births are to unmarried women. Are all of these women dishonest?"
"What I mean -." Sven tried to defend himself but he had stepped into it with Brennan and there was no way out.
"Not too long ago, I considered having a child on my own and if it had worked out, I would have been no less honest than I am today." She paused. "I am very honest."
Sven was stunned. He was scolded and he knew it but didn't quite know how to respond. Booth didn't say anything he was loving Brennan putting Sven back on his heels.
"How long have you two been partners?" Sven asked desperately trying to change the subject.
"My partnership with Booth has little to do with this conversation," she stated. "But I agree that a chance of topic is needed. Why don't you tell us what you have found at the crime scene and why you believe Mr. Angel was involved in this murder?"
Then came the second part of Booth's nightmare. The remainder of the drive was spent discussing the case. Brennan was relentless with Sven about the assumptions he was making, conclusions he was drawing. In the end all that they were able to glean was that the CSU team had reported that the victim was between twenty-five and thirty, female and the ID found with the body indicates that she was from Tucson Arizona and owned the car found in Angel's possession. She had been dead for more than a few hours and that was it.
"Of course the victim has been dead for more than a few hours. It took us five hours to fly here," she stated with an annoyance level off the charts. "Are you certain that the ID belongs to the remains?"
Booth turned and shot her a look and a smile. "That's why you're here, Bones." He probably should have been embarrassed by her harshness to a fellow agent, but Sven was a bit of a dolt and needed to be taken down a peg or two. "How long until we get there?" Booth asked.
"Ten minutes," Sven said hoping that there was nothing to prevent them from getting there in ten minutes.
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They arrived at the crime scene at quarter to four - none too soon for Sven. His gregariousness had been squashed. He was silent for the rest of the drive. It was a lonely stretch of highway that no one would have noticed a dead body. It was luck that a truck had broken down not a hundred yards from where her body had been dumped. Brennan was out of the vehicle first and grabbed her bag. Sven caught Booth by the front of the SUV.
"How long have you two been partners?"
"On and off - but for most of eight years."
"Really? Is she like that all the time?"
"Like what? Literal? Opinionated? Vocal?" Booth smiled. "Every day since I've known her," he said proudly.
Sven looked at her walking away. "Man she better be good ... to have to put up with that crap day in and day out -."
Booth shoved him back into the SUV and got very close to him. "She's my partner. Show some respect." He started to walk away but turned back to glare at Sven. "For the record ... she is amazing. It would do you good to shut your mouth, watch, listen and learn."
Sven was still not impressed. "Come on Booth ... you must be tapping that or you would never put up with -."
Booth shoved him again back into the SUV harder this time. "I won't tell you again. Respect! I can get you transferred to Anchorage, understand?"
Sven held up his hands in surrender. He didn't believe that Booth could do any such thing, but he had heard that Brennan was the darling of the department - a bit of an odd duck, but she got results so the FBI gave her leeway to get the job done. As Booth walked away, Sven shook his head. Sven touched a sore spot alright but it was pretty clear, they were more than partners.
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Brennan was crouching over the remains when Booth joined her notebook in hand. The CSU team was standing back per Brennan's request. It actually was a request this time, not a demand. She was in a pretty good mood. She had also gotten the cursory information from the unit before she started her examination and was impressed with their findings.
"What've you got, Bones?"
"Female. Twenty-five to thirty. She has given birth in the two years. She's been dead for at least two days not more than a week. Hodgins will give us a better timeline based on insect activity. Given the temperature and the scavenging a field examination is an estimate at best."
"Cause of death?" Booth said as he wrote.
"Not willing to say at the moment ... but she was shot ... entry wound consistent with a .45." She pointed to a wound above the left breast. It was more than likely the kill show, but Brennan was not about to make snap decisions until all the facts were in.
"Anything else?"
"Yes, she was restrained - ankles and wrists with duct tape." She pointed to the tape around the ankles. "There is some residue around the mouth that is consistent with glue or tape. Hodgins will be able to identify that for us. I'm sure there is more, but -."
"You need to get her back to the Jeffersonian. On it." He snapped his notebook closed. "Is that it?"
Brennan stood up. "We didn't fly out here for me to look at the remains and send them back to the Jeffersonian."
"What? The desert's not hot enough for you?"
"Booth."
"We are here to talk to Scott Angel. And you need to collect DNA from him before we decide to transfer him back to Washington." He stepped toward her and lowered his voice. "We are here because we are partners working this case … the case of a senator's daughter who was killed. I know you hate the politics, but appreciate the need for justice. At least five women have been killed, possibly by this man – Scott Angel – it is our job to either find the evidence that convicts him or the evidence that points to someone else. Either way we have to solve this case, yes?"
"Yes." Brennan nodded to the CSU team allowing them to process, collect and remove the remains. She would supervise and assist. Booth watched and continued to make notes.
Booth and Brennan started back toward the car later. Sven was standing near it talking to a sheriff's officer.
"I don't like your friend," Brennan said.
"First, he is not my friend and second, he doesn't like you much either." Booth stopped their progress to the car with a touch to her forearm. "About what he was saying -."
"Booth."
"About what he was saying," he repeated. "He knew me a long time ago."
"He was acquainted with you a long time ago," she corrected. "He never knew you from what I could determine." She kept walking.
"Right." As he followed her he wondered if he was too forceful with Sven. He wanted to knock him out but knew that Brennan didn't need her honor defended and he didn't want to cause a scene that would put their partnership and new status in a bad light or any light at all for that matter.
"Hey," Sven said. "Sheriff's Deputy Dawes is going to take you down to Indio. That's where we're holding Angel. They have a vehicle down there for you as well."
"Good. Thanks." Booth said turning his attention to Dawes. Hands were shaken and introductions made.
"Angel has lawyered up," Deputy Dawes said. "And won't talk until he gets there. That should be in the morning. You can try to talk to him, but I wouldn't expect much tonight. And he won't submit to a DNA sample being taken until his lawyer has arrived."
"Don't we have a court order?" Brennan asked.
"We can wait until morning," Booth suggested. "He's not going anywhere. We are not going to let this guy walk on a technicality."
Brennan was a little annoyed. If they were going to interrogate Angel, she would have preferred to have been at the lab and working the remains. There was no need for her to have flown all the way to California.
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Angel refused to speak with them and they had done all they could there. Booth had found out more about the possible victim. Her name was Penny Lange. She had been missing from her home in Tucson for five days. She was a bank teller and had a two year old son named Matthew. Her husband was consulting in Afghanistan. Before the remains were sent to the Jeffersonian, Brennan examined them again in the coroner's office with the information they had gotten for Ms. Lange. By the end of the examination Brennan was comfortable saying that there was a seventy-five percent probability that those remains were that of Penny Lange. Her family needed to be notified.
Around eight that night Booth and Brennan were checking into the Marriot Desert Springs. There were cheaper hotels in Indio, but neither wanted to stay in them. She went to the bar to get them a couple of drinks as he checked them in. It felt very clandestine – and was kind of sexy. She knew all about keeping sex on the down low from when she was in college sleeping with her professor, but she had hoped that part of her life was over. She was an adult consenting woman and Booth was an adult consenting man. There were no other people involved. There was no reason why they need to hide their new relationship. She understood Booth's point about PDAs and accepted it enough. She wasn't an exhibitionist; she just felt that nothing should be hidden from prying eyes.
She ordered him a beer and herself a glass of Pinot Noir, but when it arrived she had no taste for it. She returned it for a vodka tonic and again, it didn't go down well. She settled on sparkling water. All of a sudden she didn't feel sexy or like she was having some illicit assignation. She actually felt sick.
Booth slipped into the chair next to hers and slid a key card across to her. "Three-Oh-Six," he said. "I'm next door in Three-Oh-Eight." He waved the other card at her before sticking it in his pocket.
"Next door?" She was more than confused; she was disappointed.
"Working weekend, Bones." He had no intention of sleeping in his room, but they needed to look above reproach. "I gave you the room with the view."
"Fine," she was not going to debate him. "I'm tired anyway. The heat has taken a toll on me today." She picked up her card and stood up.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to shower and change into something a little cooler."
"Dinner?"
"I'm not hungry."
"You need to eat, Bones."
"Maybe later. I'll order room service." She started to walk away.
"Bones?"
"I need to lie down. I'm not feeling well. Queasy stomach. Must be the heat."
"One hundred and five will do it to you," he agreed. "You've been working pretty hard this last week or more. Not surprised that you need to crash." He stood up and pressed her hand. "I'll call you in an hour or two?"
"Sure." She walked away. She had no thought in her head but that she wanted to lie down.
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Booth finished his beer. Went to his room, changed into something he could swim in and did several laps in the pool. But ten o'clock he was back in his room, wide awake and hungry. He picked up the house phone and dialed Brennan's room. She answered on the third ring.
"Hey, were you sleeping?" he asked.
"No, in the shower," she explained. "Have you eaten? I was about to order something. I'm actually very hungry now."
"Nap sounds like it did you a world of good."
"It did. So? Dinner?"
"Sure."
They sat on her balcony overlooking the ground and ate dinner. It was nice. It was a very pretty hotel. They talked a little about work and a little about their friends back home. Around eleven thirty it was time to go to bed. They had an early morning interview with Scott Angel and a flight to catch.
"So," he hedged.
"So?"
"You aren't really going to make me sleep in my own room are you?" Again he hit her with his charmed smile.
"Seems like a waste of money if you don't."
"Seems like money well spent if it keeps anyone from intruding."
"I'm sure the locks on the door work, Booth."
He pulled her into his arms. "Not that kind of intrusion." He kissed her. "So?"
"So? Yeah. Stay."
His smiled broadened. "It's great working with you all day, and knowing I can be with you all night," he said.
"You're going to get sick of me … or I'm going to get on your nerves."
"Maybe … but you aren't right now." He kissed her again and walked her back toward the bed. He pulled her down next to him.
She pulled out her Roxie voice. "Hey Tony, Remember the last time we were in the desert?"
"How could I forget, Roxie? What did you do with that dress?"
"It's in the closet."
"Well, I say you dust it off for our date."
"The date we keep pushing because of work?"
"It'll happen, Bones. Trust me. It will happen."
She kissed him and rolled him over on top of her. "I trust you – but to be honest… room service on the balcony looking over the lake was better than a date."
"You're easy to please … but that won't sway me. We're going out on the town."
"And paint it blue?"
"Red, Bones." He corrected. "We are going to paint the town red."
"Why would it be red? The origin of that phrase is about a riotous mob running rampant in the town and the red is blood."
He would have asked how blue would have been different, but this was another time when he chose not to debate her and stopped the discussion with a kiss and more.