AN: Beta read by jsq.

Part 10: Statements

The next morning I got called to the Bureau to clarify my statement.

I saw Sweets talking to an agent in one corner, but I had no time to say hi before they ushered me into an interrogation room. Then I was left alone. Luckily I only had two minutes to stare at the black walls and one-way mirror before someone came in.

It was Shaw, the girl Booth had been mentoring. She looked very professional: dark jacket, short hair. No-nonsense attitude.

Why do they want me here? I wondered. Do our stories not match up? Do they think Brennan shot Pelant in cold blood?

Shaw sat down across from me and shuffled papers in a file. "Ms. Montenegro, we have a few follow-up questions for you."

Uh oh. Wasn't that the way they lulled suspects, telling them it was just routine? I had fudged my statement. I'd left things out, like the exact reasons I'd returned to the room, first to kill the cameras and then to eavesdrop on Pelant's final words.

Okay, I told myself. I can do this. Didn't I talk back to the judge at Max's murder trial? And I got tossed in a holding cell for refusing to testify. Protecting Brennan right now should be a piece of cake.

Shaw placed the papers in a neat pile in front of her, and asked me to confirm what I'd said yesterday. We went over the general timeline: how I'd left with Christine, come back to check for sabotage, then left again.

I made it clear that disabling the camera was my decision. "Because I know what kind of havoc Pelant can create with a digital video stream."

Shaw simply nodded. Then she asked, "Leaving the apartment a second time, was that also your decision?"

"Um…" Before I could think of a good lie, she went on.

"Maybe Dr. Brennan asked you to leave, to go for help."

"Yeah, that's it exactly. I mean, Brennan didn't have handcuffs or anything."

Shaw nodded again. Had she just given me that answer?

As we finished looking at my statement, I added the bare minimum of details. Despite her all-business demeanor, Shaw didn't press me the way I knew she could. The way anyone at the Bureau, especially someone trained by Booth, would investigate every detail.

Shaw noted what I said in her file. She wrote to fill in the gaps, but it seemed she put down rather more than I had said.

She looked up and caught me watching.

For a second, the practiced-federal-agent mask dropped, and I saw her face unguarded, sympathetic. Her expression told me it was okay. No one was out to trick me, or punish Brennan. I swear I even saw humor: We're in this together. Have to keep up appearances.

Then her face smoothed back to impassiveness. "Thank you, Ms. Montenegro. If you could just sign here to verify your statement."

I took the pen from her and did it.

When I was free to go, I went looking for Sweets. I found him in the break room at the end of the hall, holding an empty cup and staring at the coffee machines.

"Can't decide between regular and decaf?"

He turned around. "Huh? Oh, yeah. It's just that I've had so much caffeine over the last few days…"

"Haven't we all. Listen." I grabbed his arm. "Is Agent Shaw secretly on our side, or what?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, you know what I'm talking about. Didn't you watch my interview? Didn't someone?"

He shook his head. "I don't know—"

"This," I hissed at him, "is the Federal Bureau of Investigation. They should be crawling up our asses with microscopes. They didn't even believe Pelant was guilty until this week! The last time around, Agent Flynn thought Booth was making it up, and Brennan really had killed her friend Sawyer."

Sweets looked harder at me. Then he held his cup under the decaf machine and pressed the spigot. "You were scared going in there today, weren't you?"

I folded my arms across my chest. "I was not."

"I think you were." Sweets picked up a sugar packet. "You thought they still wouldn't believe Booth and Brennan?"

"Based on past patterns?" I snorted. "It's not like these guys have been supportive."

Sweets pointed his coffee stirrer at me. "But you're forgetting something: Pelant tipped his hand. When he planted those emails in Pesovic's account, they led us to the wrong location, yeah. But he quit trying to hide. He wanted us to know he was behind it. He wanted the credit."

"Because he felt like this unrecognized genius? Because he wanted to cause some big confrontation with Brennan?"

Sweets shrugged. "If that's what he wanted, he got it."

I dropped down on the old couch next to the coffee bar. "Oh, he got it, all right. Got what he deserved."

Sweets sat next to me. He blew on his coffee, then said, "Did you know Agent Shaw has a son? He's a little older than Michael."

"I think Booth did mention… but he told me not to say anything. She wants to stay under the radar, I guess."

He nodded. "A lot of agents have kids. And when they heard about Christine… they were really mad. Really torn up. They knew it could've been their own kid who was abducted. You probably didn't see, because you've been at the lab this whole time. But I was here, I saw how everyone reacted."

"They were on our side all along?"

"Angela, there shouldn't be sides. This is the FBI. We find out the truth."

"Okay, Agent Boy. You want me to start calling you Mulder?"

He ignored that. "What I'm saying is, Pelant was the clear suspect. And what he did was inexcusable. Especially when he came after one of their own. Causing Booth's car accident, going after his child… those are unpardonable actions. And even if Dr. Brennan's not a cop, in this crisis, they'll consider her one of their own." Sweets sipped his coffee. "Shaw and her colleagues are smart. They know if we're not telling a hundred percent of the story. But as long as they don't find any serious holes or contradictions…"

I thought of that street corner outside the apartment, when Brennan gave her statement. I couldn't hear much of what was said. But for an instant, her eyes had darted to me. Did she know I'd waited outside the door? Was she glad I'd stopped her? The FBI had accepted her actions as self-defense. Smashing Pelant's face with her boot… that would've been a little harder to explain.

Then I recalled Shaw's eyes, in that moment she wasn't being a cop. Was she thinking of her own child in Christine's place? "You know…" I looked at Sweets. "I bet they wanted Pelant dead too."

He sat in silence, while a pair of stern-looking agents walked by. "Just try getting any of them to admit it."

-.-.-

Cam had given us all time off this week, and I was glad of it.

I went to a yoga class after the Bureau. Unrolling my mat, I said hi to a couple people I knew. Then I tried to let my mind drift as the instructor took us through the poses. Stretch, hold, gently twist. I could feel the stresses and kinks from the past week starting to unfurl and dissolve into the air.

I returned home to Hodgins with, if not a blissed-out smile, a more content expression.

We ate lunch with Michael, and a bit later, put him down for a nap. Standing in his room, we watched him sleep. Hodgins glanced up and spoke softly. "Still no word?"

"Not yet." He was asking about Booth and Brennan. The plan had been, Cam would accompany them to the pediatrician this morning. Then Sweets would meet them at the psychologist's office. With Christine so young, it would be hard to find out just what had happened. But they could observe her and make recommendations.

Hodgins and I wandered back to the kitchen. We were at a loss for what to do. Talking about grocery shopping or seeing a movie seemed wrong. It was too normal.

I leaned against the window overlooking the yard, and sighed. "I am so glad Brennan has her family back. And I'm so tired from this whole ordeal, I could sleep for five days straight."

"I hear you," Hodgins said.

But I was wired, too. One yoga class didn't cut it; I needed some closure to all this. Some catharsis. I needed to hurl a bunch of black and red paint onto a canvas. I needed to run up the side of a big hill and yell at the top of my lungs. I needed to have marathon sex with Hodgins.

Instead, I called Cam.

At first she praised the part I'd played in catching Pelant, but I waved it off. "What did the doctor say?"

"Christine is fine. Physically, she's just fine. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"And aside from physically? Did you hear…?"

"You'll have to ask Booth and Brennan about that. I would have, but I was needed back at the lab. We've been neglecting our jobs recently, for obvious reasons. But once I get through this meeting today…"

"You'll have some time off yourself, won't you? You've worked just as hard as any of us."

"Yeah, well… Sorry I missed the action. But you could have picked me up on the way, you know, not just called. I would've liked to shoot Pelant myself."

"You'd have to get in line for that." We laughed darkly, and it felt good.

Then Cam said, "About that remote device Pelant had…"

"Yeah?"

"The techs finished analyzing it. It was rigged to set off a bomb. Maybe a small one, but—"

"What bomb? Where?"

"The alarm clock in Booth and Brennan's bedroom."

"Oh, my God. But Booth told me—he saw Pelant on their security tape last year, and he searched the whole house afterward. Hodgins helped him. They replaced anything Pelant could have tampered with, like—"

"Like alarm clocks and baby monitors. I know. Those items have been sitting in an FBI evidence locker for the last year. When Booth couldn't convince anyone to examine them for sabotage, they were just filed away."

"But that clock…"

"It had a small explosive inside it this whole time. If Pelant had set it off," Cam said, "he wouldn't have hurt Booth or Brennan, like he might have wanted, but he could have caused the FBI some real damage and embarrassment. And it could have badly burned anyone standing within a few feet of it."

"Oh, my God." It was all I could think to say. "So he wasn't bluffing. He was going to set off a mini bomb in their bedroom! Even if he didn't know Booth had moved it…" I shook my head. "Pelant is just… sick."

"Pelant was," Cam corrected, and I liked the vicious tone of her voice.

"Yes," I said. "Was. Well, Sweets is going to love this. I saw him this morning but he must not have heard."

"What's he going to love?"

"This. Pelant's final plan? His obsession with power and schemes? It's like he's a terrorist, the way he instills fear. I mean, here we are just going about our lives, and he could have crashed a car or exploded an alarm clock any time that he wanted."

"But he didn't. Not all of it. He underestimated us." Cam and I spent a few minutes verbally abusing him, to reassure ourselves, before my brain diverted to another topic.

"Hey, isn't Michelle home from school soon, for summer break?"

"Not for another month. But she's promised to come home for a weekend before that."

"That's good. Maybe she could come to Christine's birthday party. Don't worry, I won't make it anything crazy. I think we all just want to hunker down with family and appreciate what we have."

-.-.-

Later, I called Brennan. "Hi, Sweetie. Is this a bad time?"

"No, it's fine. I just got back from a run, while Christine and Booth were napping."

"So, how are you all doing?"

"Well… Booth was put on leave for four weeks. That's the time he would need anyway, to recover. But he says it's a slap on the wrist for not following protocol."

"You mean for going rogue, pursuing Pelant on our own?"

"That's one way to put it, yes."

I was curled up in a corner of my art studio, watching the light fade between neighboring houses. "And Christine? How is she doing?"

"She's, um…" I wished I was there, so I could see Brennan's face. "Just a minute." I heard her say something to Booth, then it sounded like she'd moved into another room. "Sweets and the other doctor, they thought the effects would last for some time, but…"

"Effects, honey?"

"Christine is… She startles easily, cries more often, and gets very upset if one of us leaves. But children are resilient, and with time…"

"She'll be fine, right?"

"Yes." Brennan sounded determined. "She will."

I asked about Booth, next. "He needs to get more rest," she said, "but he feels better after the professional opinions we got today. And after questioning the kidnappers."

"Wait, what? The FBI let him do that?"

"I got the impression it was unofficial, off the record. I didn't see it; I was with Christine. But one of his colleagues said…" She sounded proud. "He interrogated them within an inch of their lives."

"I can believe that. Scaring them is the next best thing, since he can't beat them to a pulp."

"Not until he heals more, and gets his doctor's permission to resume boxing workouts."

"Brennan… Did you just make a joke?"

"No, I'm being serious. But it's unlikely he could hurt them without repercussions."

She did sound serious. And kind of bitter, which worried me.

We talked some more, and I found out Max and Russ were coming there for dinner. "They're bringing groceries and cooking, so we don't have to do anything."

"That'll be nice, honey." As we said goodbye I told her, "You enjoy your family time, Brennan. And call me soon, okay?"