Chapter 10
Brennan closed her front door behind her and dropped her bag on the floor. She was exhausted. The emotional strain of their discovery out in the field, the painstaking collection of evidence, and the five-hour drive back from Richwood had made for a very long day. She was relieved when Hodgins and Clark had shown up with the FBI Forensics Unit, knowing that any evidence uncovered would be handled properly by her squints.
Squints. Her breath caught as she realized that she had attached Booth's nickname to her own team. His face flashed through her mind like a lightning bolt, vivid and then instantly gone, leaving her weak as her loneliness for him washed over her. She was so appreciative of Doggett and the friendship and understanding that had bloomed between them, but it did not assuage the overwhelming…heartache, for lack of a better way to describe it, that she could not escape when she was home.
She poured herself a glass of wine and flopped onto the couch. She laid her head on the back pillows and closed her eyes. She was tired of running from the intense emotions of fear and hurt that chased her through her days and nights lately. Booth had pushed her for six years into becoming more open. It had been gradual, and his easy vulnerability with her, coupled with her trust of him as her best friend, had produced a change in her. Yet she had continued to cling to the protective habit of keeping people – and him, in particular – at arm's length. It wasn't until the Eames case that she had been ravaged by the startling realization that she very well could end up like Lauren Eames, and the idea shook her to the very core. She took a massive leap of faith and poured out her heart to Booth about what she'd learned. By that time, he was completely unavailable to her, having shut her out of his personal life since he came back from Afghanistan. She hadn't expected him to jump into her arms, necessarily; she knew that he was trying to make things work with Hannah. More than anything, she had needed his understanding and his reassurance. She had needed him to comfort her on a level that only Booth could. While she was telling him that she wanted to let him love her, she had needed him to respond to her in the "old Boothy way." She had needed her best friend back.
And, despite her best efforts to protect her heart from the pain of abandonment, he had abandoned her anyway. Anger at him welled up within her as she suddenly understood that, even though he had pushed and pushed her to open up to him, he himself had been running – it had begun under the guise of "moving on," had taken on the form of a certain blonde reporter, and was now fully manifested in this incredibly dark place he was now in. His hypocrisy was infuriating to her.
It was time to talk to him, whether he wanted to listen or not. She was done playing this game. If he wouldn't accept her phone calls or talk in person, she'd still demand to be heard. Fueled by her anger, she whipped out a sheet of stationery from her desk, sat down, and began to write.
Two hours later, having exhausted her mental and emotional reserves, she folded the paper and tucked it inside an envelope. She would have to figure out how to get it to him; she was unsure of whether or not he'd receive mail at The Farm, and she didn't want to involve Parker, though she knew that Booth would at least be staying in touch with him if no one else.
She yawned and stood, arching her aching back into a deep stretch, and padded to her bedroom. Writing, as always, had been cathartic, and by the time her head hit the pillow, she was peaceful for the first time in months.
##############
She met Doggett at noon, and over lunch, they discussed her meeting with the Handmaidens group that evening. It was decided that she would need to dress and act a bit younger than her age, since all three of the victims had been in their early- to mid-twenties, and it was apparent from the Facebook group that most of the other women were around that same age as well. She sent a quick text to Angela asking her to go on an impromptu shopping trip later that afternoon.
"You sure you're comfortable with this, Dr. Brennan?" Doggett asked her one more time. "It's not standard operating procedure to send a consultant into an undercover situation."
"I will be fine," Brennan assured him. "I plan to do more listening than talking, and I've done undercover work before with Booth. I enjoy it very much."
"Okay. Well, I'm going to wire you up so that we can pull you out if you get in the weeds, and I'll be right outside, posing as your boyfriend. Remember that this is largely a fact-finding mission, and if you can infiltrate, great. If not, at least we've gained more info on them than we had before."
Brennan was silent, her eyes distant. Doggett reached across the table and touched her arm.
"You okay?"
"I went undercover with Booth in Las Vegas a few years ago…" her voice trailed off sadly.
"You miss him, don't you? Dr. Brennan, I don't mean to pry, and if you don't want to talk about it, I get it, but what happened there? You guys were the star partnership of the Bureau for years, and suddenly, you're split up, not talking, and from what I've heard, he's off the deep end."
"It's…a long story. We had a falling out. I… honestly, Agent Doggett, I don't understand what happened myself."
She realized that she was stammering, but couldn't control it. Voicing all the pain to someone she barely knew was not normal to her, but she felt that she could tell Doggett the truth.
"He was my…he was my best friend. Now he won't even look at me, and I can't seem to rationalize my way past this. It…it just…hurts."
He looked at her, eyes soft. "Hey, look. Don't be ashamed of missing him. You're grieving here. They say that we FBI agents are closer with our partners than we are with our spouses because of all the crap we go through together, and because of the level of trust we have to have with each other. So dissolving a partnership is, in a lot of ways, worse than a divorce. That's no small thing to get over."
She nodded. "Thank you for saying that. It makes me feel slightly less neurotic."
He laughed, and she smiled, grateful for the lightening of the mood.
They turned the conversation back to the task at hand, tied up some other loose details, then they parted ways, and Brennan set out to meet Angela for their shopping excursion.
##############
Brennan arrived at the coffeehouse right at five and parked around the corner, where Doggett was waiting in his SUV.
"Ready?" he asked.
She nodded, and he handed her the mic and transmitter that she would be wearing under her jacket. Doggett taped the mic's wire to her back, then stepped back and appraised her outfit, nodding his approval. "Your friend did good."
Angela had indeed worked her magic - Brennan looked like a much younger, hipper version of herself. Angela had picked out skinny jeans, a pair of Converse kicks, and a wide-striped long sleeve t-shirt. Her makeup was lighter, and she opted for an Audrey Hepburn-style bun with fringe bangs. She easily looked twenty years old.
"Do you think you can turn off the genius talk for awhile?" he said, winking at her.
"Totally," she said with a lopsided smile. "I will just throw in lots of 'likes' and I should be okay."
"I'll be right here listening. Follow my lead. I'll come in and get you when I feel like we've gotten enough out of them. I may make an appearance earlier if we need to get you out of there for any reason, so don't be caught off guard if that happens."
She nodded, took a deep breath, and headed round the corner to the front door of the coffeehouse.
The place was unusually packed for a Sunday afternoon, and she looked around for women who matched the profile of the Handmaidens.
"Joy?" inquired a voice behind her. She turned to see a woman in a bohemian-style dress smiling at her.
"Oh, hi! I'm Joy!" she said. "Are you with..."
"Yes," the other woman said, cutting her off. "I'm Ashley. We're over in the corner. Come on, I'll introduce you to the others."
Brennan followed her over to the back corner, where five other women were seated, heads huddled together in deep conversation.
Ashley touched Brennan's arm and said, "Everyone, this is Joy. She's the one who just joined us on Facebook."
The women all stood and took turns introducing themselves, each hugging her as they told her their name.
"So, have a seat," said Ashley, directing Brennan to a threadbare winged-back chair in the circle. "We were just talking about ideas for our next protest. Brainstorming, if you want to call it that."
Brennan sat, and said, "So… could you tell me about what kinds of protests you do? Because I have done everything from picketing to Operation Rescue, where I got arrested a few times back in my teens. It was awesome! So good to be able to make a difference, you know?"
Ashley laughed. "Oh, yeah, well, good thing you're used to the jail scene. We do that a lot. Our goal is to outdo Code Pink with the shock and awe factor. We figure if the liberals can be obnoxious about their ridiculous causes, it's high time that we step out and show the world what a double standard the media treats us with. We're demonized, and they're celebrated. We're trying to change that – and save the lives of the unborn. So much more important than stupid global warming or saving the blind spotted newt or whatever!"
"So, what do you have coming up that I can plug into?" Brennan asked. "I am new to this area and really don't have any friends. I mean, I have a boyfriend, but it's not serious. I really want to get involved with some like-minded people. I miss 'girl time,' you know?"
"Totally!" said another girl, who had introduced herself as Hilary. "We've got some protests coming up on the mall. But we have a really big one planned for the first part of April. It's only for a select group of us because it's going to be held on the steps of the Supreme Court when the partial birth bill comes up again, and we want that one to be small but loud. We will definitely be noticed." A brief shadow of something – hatred or anger, Brennan thought – passed across Hilary's face. The girl sitting next to her subtly put her hand on Hilary's arm, and suddenly, Hilary was all smiles again.
"Well," said Brennan, turning back to Ashley, "where do I sign up? Seriously, I'll do anything."
Ashley looked around at her friends. "Well, I think the next step is to come to our Bible study and meet our group leader. He's sort of the one who makes all the decisions about who is and isn't allowed in our group. We have to be really careful, because we've had people try to infiltrate us before who have, we'll just say, less than pure motives. Jacob is really strict about who can get involved. You'll see why when you meet him. But anyway, he's a really amazing man, with so much to teach us. Once you hear him, you'll be a different person."
"Joy, you need to count the cost if you're going to be a Handmaiden," Hilary said, her eyes sober. "Jacob demands full devotion to the Lord and to him. You have to be willing to make some sacrifices if you want to be part of our group. It's hard, but it is so worth it. I'd encourage you to end that relationship with your boyfriend if you truly want to follow Jacob's teachings. He will only drag you down and prevent you from your destiny. It's a higher way of living. All of us here," she gestured around the circle, "have left behind our families and friends because we believe so passionately in Jacob's way. If you're ready to give your life for the cause, then you're fit to be a Handmaiden."
Brennan looked at the women in the circle, their faces earnest in devotion.
"I'm ready," she said.
#############
Booth trudged through the door of the Capitol Grounds Coffeehouse and made a beeline for the counter. His head was pounding with the remains of last night's bar hop with his fellow recruits. Then, unexpectedly, he had spent this morning in the hospital with Parker, having received an emergency release to leave base when Rebecca had called to tell him that Parker had broken his arm in that morning's soccer game. Now that the drama of the morning was over and Parker was back home sleeping, he was eager to relax with a cup of coffee, try and stave off his headache, and enjoy a few minutes of solitude before he had to be back at The Farm.
He stood in line and gazed around the room, surprised at how busy it was this late on a Sunday. He noticed a large group of women in the corner who were uncharacteristically quiet, and he gazed at them absentmindedly for a moment, then suddenly realized that the woman whose back was turned to him looked remarkably like Bones. She was not dressed as Bones would, and her hair was different, but as he watched more closely, he realized that her mannerisms were exactly the same.
He quickly turned away, panicking. That couldn't be her. She'd never dress that way, and he knew for a fact that she didn't have that many friends. He snuck another look. She had shifted slightly towards the girl next to her, revealing more of her profile. It sure as hell looked like her. Then she laughed, and he knew it was her.
He whipped his body around so that his back was to her, leaning on the sideways on the counter awkwardly, and quietly ordered his coffee, shoving his money towards the barista. Damn it! Did she have to be everywhere? He had spent the almost-three weeks away from her, purging himself of his anger, and he had finally arrived at the conclusion that they just were not able to be friends. Their moment had passed, and it would be toxic for him to continue in their relationship. He missed her – god, he missed her – but he had decided that he needed to sever those ties permanently.
Seeing her now, though, was a sucker punch to his gut, and he wavered in his resolve. She looked so different, but she looked happy. She was animated in her conversation with the women in the corner, and she seemed uncharacteristically comfortable in their midst. All this time, he had imagined her to be miserable, most likely retreating further into herself as she often did when they had a falling-out, but here she was, looking very much as if she had moved on without a second thought….and looking hot as hell.
This is ridiculous, Seeley, he thought. Walk away. He snatched up his coffee, regretting that it was in a ceramic mug, not a cup he could take to go, and then he rebuked himself. This wasn't high school, for God's sake, and he'd be damned if she was going to ruin his precious alone time. He made the decision to hide out in the opposite corner, shielded by a tall display fixture containing coffee and accessories, and pretend that she wasn't there.
He hunched down in an overstuffed chair and buried himself in his iPhone. He tried to distract himself with games, news - anything, but he couldn't stop himself from peering between the shelves at what little he could see of her. At one point, she turned almost completely around, and he thought he'd been spotted, but she turned back after a few seconds and resumed her conversation, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
A few minutes later, a man he recognized to be an agent walked in, scanned the room, and approached Bones, bending down and kissing her fondly on the cheek. Booth nearly dropped his coffee, and watched them interact, his blood pressure rising by the second as he saw her smile at him flirtatiously, talk with him briefly, and then stand and hug him as he turned to go.
Booth couldn't take it any longer, and he launched himself from his seat, threw his mug on the table, and followed the agent outside. The agent disappeared down the sidewalk and around the corner, and Booth quickened his pace and followed, rounding the corner to suddenly find himself nearly nose to nose with the man.
"Agent Booth. What the hell are you doing here?" The agent stood his ground, clearly perturbed.
"Who the hell are you?" Booth countered angrily.
"Special Agent John Doggett. I'm Dr. Brennan's new partner. We are in the middle of an undercover investigation of a very dangerous group, and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't cause a scene here, Agent Booth. You're going to blow our cover."
Booth nearly exploded with anger at this revelation. "You put Bones undercover? What the hell were you thinking? She sucks at this stuff. She can't act her way out of a paper bag!"
"That's not been my experience with her, Agent Booth. She's gotten more information out of them than any of my people, and I trust her."
"Yeah, well, it looks to me like you're using this opportunity to put the moves on her," Booth growled.
"I promise you, Agent Booth, my motives are pure. We are undercover. I have the utmost respect for her, and I would never take advantage of her. She's pretty wrecked right now, anyway," he said, pausing to give Booth an incriminating look. "There's no way in hell would I cross that line."
"Whatever," mumbled Booth angrily. "Just…don't put her in harm's way, okay? She can be a renegade. Who's this group she's with, anyway?"
"You know I can't give you that information, Booth. You're no longer with the FBI. And since she's no longer your responsibility, and since you're going to make it very difficult for her to maintain her cover if she sees you, I'm going to need you to leave now."
Booth stared daggers through Doggett, hating him for filling the role that had been his, even though he didn't want it anymore.
"Booth. I need you to walk away. Now." Doggett held his ground firmly, unintimidated.
Booth's jaw clenched, but he backed down, realizing it was futile to press the issue. He angrily pushed past Doggett and headed down the sidewalk in search of his car.
Asshole, thought Doggett, shaking his head, climbed back into the SUV to wait for Brennan.
#############
Five minutes later, Brennan rounded the corner and climbed into the passenger seat of Doggett's SUV.
"Did you hear all that?" she asked eagerly. "I was good! They want me to come to their next meeting. They're going to introduce me to their…" she trailed off when she realized that Doggett was lost in thought.
He looked at her after a moment, realizing that she had stopped mid-sentence. "Yes, I heard that. That's great. I lost the audio after I came back outside, though. Did I miss anything?"
"No, not really. It sounds like they are planning a fairly large-scale demonstration soon. I just cannot figure out how this all fits together. They are a little odd, but how they are connected to the victims is still unclear. I would like to go to their meeting on Wednesday to meet with their leader."
"We'll talk about it later," said Doggett. "I'm not sure that's such a great idea. It stands to reason that, if anyone in the group is responsible for the deaths of our three victims, it's the leader."
"We don't know that," countered Brennan. "It could easily be someone who opposes their views and is murdering them because of it."
"True, but if you're posing as one of them, then that puts you in harm's way."
"Agent Doggett, they seem to trust me. You can't send another agent in without having to put her through the vetting process with them that I just went through."
"You have a good point," Doggett said. "But if we do this, it'll take some arm-twisting before Hacker lets you go."
Just then, his phone rang, and he answered quickly. He listened for a few minutes with a scowl, then hung up and looked at Brennan.
"That was one of my guys. Remember Stacy White's roommate, Katie Lopez? She's missing."