Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

A/N: Some people aren't going to like this turn in the story. I am sure some will see it as out of character, unrealistic, and trite. Suffice to say… this story went off in AU a long time ago… and I don't think that as I've established Brennan's character, it's all that far fetched. Now, whether her actions constitute a smart idea or not can be debated at a later date. For now… readers can see where it goes or not… but, in the words of Shakespeare's MacBeth… "Lay onMacDuff, and damn'd be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough!'"

Chapter 9 – "To Make Life Changes"

Quote: "Listen, you're allowed to make life changes without picking a fight with your old life."

-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-

The decision to reintroduce the person of Andrea 'Andi' Anderson into the world had not been a decision I made lightly. I initially had created Andi as an alternative persona eight years ago when I had returned from Ecuador. I was unable to give testimony or comment publicly on what I had seen at the hands of the death squads who still dominated that nation in so many ways. But, there was still so much there that the public needed to be told. I had first met John Jackson at the White House when I attended a dinner to honor the humanitarians and relief workers, other individuals like me, who had gone to Latin America to help bring peace to the families of the slain. We had hit it off right away… he knew who I was… the gallies for Bred in Bone had just been completed, and while the book had not yet been published, the industry expected great things from it. Even at that point in time, my agent had said, the industry had a buzz about the book. John wanted to know who I was, and so had made it a priority to get to know me. I think what he found surprised him.

We ended up talking about Rwanda… he had been in Kigali during one of the same spans I had worked for the UN peace keeping force identifying bodies, victims of the genocide there. My indignation over what I saw there, and in other places, led me to obliquely referencing my recent work in Ecuador. After the dinner ended, I accepted John's offer to accompany him to a late night reporter's hang out for coffee and more discussion. We ended up talking until 5 o'clock in the morning. At the end of the night, Andi Anderson had been born. Two weeks later, my first piece on what I had seen in Ecuador ran. And, after that, every time I would go abroad, I would usually meet with John upon my return... and Andi would have a new hard-hitting piece come out shortly thereafter.

John had been kind when he said it had been only two years since Andi had had a story published. In reality, I hadn't submitted to him any articles since my last trip to Guatemala after Booth's stint in the hospital with the tumor. What can I say? My focus, I have only come to realize recently, had been shifted and redirected elsewhere. After all, as my mother used to say, there is only so much time in any one given day... and solving murders for the FBI... particularly when Booth is involved... well, it takes time. After the tumor, I didn't go anywhere dig related for almost two years. Trips to the UK to lecture, yes. The trip to Beijing had almost ended my drought… before a murder ended up meaning I couldn't even get off the damn plane. I had been able to pass John a tidbit from "a high ranking source speaking on the condition of anonymity" when the Secret Service made that big deal about disinterring President Kennedy's remains. John had absolutely *loved* the story he had been able to run based on my tips. But, since then, not much.

No one knew about Andi… not even Angela. I guess I never really saw the need to enlighten anyone… and the less people that knew about her, the safer it was for her as a journalist and me as a government employee with a high security clearance. I relished the few times I could step into Andi's proverbial skin. I hadn't imagined, before now, what type of life Andi led… who she was or what she did aside from going after stories that the world *needed* to know about. I did relish being able to write as Andi. The creative writing of my novels has always been something I've struggled with… the anthropological style of the Jeffersonian actually has more in common with the journalistic style favored by the AP. Excepting technical terminology, keep your thoughts clear, concise, and to the point. Don't use words needlessly. Say what you are going to say and be done with it. That was another reason John loved editing my copy. It was very, very well done, from a grammatical point of view.

Now that I had set Andi's reemergence into motion, I now had two main things I need to do. The first was to prepare for Dr. Temperance Brennan's seven week absence with Cam, Sully, and Payton… and Parker. The second was to find out what I would need to do to physically become Andi Anderson. And, unfortunately, the only person that I knew who would definitely know who to send me to to help with that particular task on such short notice... well, it could really only have been someone with a criminal past himself.

"Tempe!" Brennan's father said as he stood with a smile and outstretched arms.

Brennan smiled, and moved to give her father a hug. "Hi, Dad."

Max Keenan gave his daughter an appreciative glance and said, "How are you, sweetie? You're back much earlier than you thought you would be. When did you get back?"

Brennan had expected these questions, and brushed them off quickly by saying, "A while, Dad."

"You didn't find what you were looking for in the jungles of southeast Asia?" Max pressed.

Truthfully, Brennan shook her head as she said, "No, I can honestly say that I did not."

The couple sat down at Brennan and Booth's normal table in the Royal Diner and proceeded to order. They made small talk though the rest of the meal before Brennan got to the point of why she had called her father and asked him to breakfast. "So, Dad."

"Yes, Tempe?"

"I need your help," Brennan began.

Immediately, Max frowned, and said, "What's wrong, Tempe? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

Quickly, Brennan waved her hands as she shook her head and said, "No, no. I'm fine. I just need… well, Dad, to be honest, I need to talk to the kind of person that you would be the type of person to know."

Max reached for his coffee cup as he said, "You don't mean, by chance, you need to talk to the type of person an old ex-con like me would know, do you?"

Brennan reluctantly nodded. "Yes."

Max shook his head. "Fair enough. What type of guy do you need to talk to?"

"You lived a completely new life as Arthur MacGregor for over fifteen years, Dad," Brennan began. "I need to talk to the guy who helped you pull that off."

"Off the record? This isn't for a case, is it?" Max asked. He then suddenly turned around and scanned his surroundings as he said, "Booth isn't around somewhere, is he, if I admit that I can help you? It has been a while since he's arrested me, and since I know that's his idea of a fun time—"

This time, Brennan couldn't help but laugh as she said, "No, Dad, Booth's not here. He's still on active duty with the Rangers in the Middle East."

"Oh," Max said. "Well, in that case, do you mean the guy who helped me pull off Art MacGregor's life on paper or Matthew Brennan's transformation into said new persona?"

Brennan's eyes narrowed. "The second, Dad. Definitely the second."

And that was how I met Seth. Dad gave me a number to call. He warned me an appointment with Seth wouldn't come cheap… then again, my dad had never worked with anyone or anything that wasn't the best at what they did. Fortunately, for me, Seth made house calls. Ten thousand dollars and a first class ticket from New York to DC later, Seth stood in the middle of my apartment at 2 o'clock in the morning.

"Dr. Brennan," he said. It was hard to describe the man. He wasn't really tall… or muscular… he had sandy brown hair, and dark eyes… he was really plain. The only thing that caught my attention was his diction. He didn't have an accent per se, but his word choice… diction and syntax… they indicated intelligence and education.

I nodded as I said, "Welcome to Washington, Mr…?" Dad hadn't told me his last name.

Waving a hand off, he said, "Just Seth will do, Dr. Brennan, just Seth."

I nodded.

Seth had brought only one suitcase with him… although I hesitate to describe his rolling train case as a suitcase. He pulled it towards the couch, gestured, and we sat.

He then began, "Now, Dr. Brennan, a mutual friend tells me you'd like my help. Seeing as how you know who I am and what I do, why don't you tell me who you want to be and what links you're willing to go to to help her be born."

I nodded, and decided the direct approach was the best. "Her name is Andrea Anderson. She is a free lance journalist with the Associated Press. She is going to be assigned shortly to be embedded in a military unit in Afghanistan."

Seth nodded. "Tell me about this Andrea."

I paused for a moment, and then reflected on what I had learned from Booth about undercover work. The best cover, he had always told me, was the one that was as close to the truth as possible. The one that has the least amount of lies is the one that is less difficult to trip up on if you forget the minor details.

"Andi is thirty-five. She was born in Chicago. She got a journalism degree from the University of Chicago. She did grad work at Northwestern, but never completed her Masters. She lives in DC. She's single, never married, no kids. She has a brother and a sister. She's the youngest child. She has a very good sense of humor, and has a nasty habit of using curse words when she shouldn't," Brennan said.

"And like you," Seth added. "She is very smart, very cunning, and very sexual."

Brennan raised her eyebrow at the last comment, but said nothing.

Seth nodded and said, "How long does Andi have to be born?"

"Two weeks," I said. "And plastic surgery isn't an option."

Seth harrumph at this. He then said, "The true secret to the art of deception, Dr. Brennan is knowing that the biggest advantage one has is letting people see what the expect to see. When someone looks at Andi, will they have any logical reason whatsoever to see Dr. Temperance Brennan in her place?"

"No," I said. "None whatsoever."

"Then you already have the greatest advantage possible. You just have to make certain that you let people see what, or in this case, whom they think they are seeing," Seth said.

"Even…" I paused for a moment. "Even if someone close to Dr. Temperance Brennan will be in close proximity to Andi Anderson?"

Seth shrugged. "That will pose a slightly more difficult challenge, but nothing someone with your level of acumen shouldn't be able to handle. Recognition is a funny thing. The brain tells us what it thinks we should be seeing. It is only then that secondary tells distract the brain from its original assumption… things like smell and other personal preferences that tip off others to the familiarity of identification."

I nodded.

Seth reached down and opened his case. He then took out a note pad and pen.

"Tell me what Andi Anderson looks like, Dr. Brennan," Seth said.

I paused, uncertain how to answer the question. All I really knew about Andi was that she couldn't look like me. After a moment, I shrugged and said, "I'm not certain."

At this, Seth smiled. "Ahh, then, at last, I can inject a bit of my creativity into this consultation."

He nodded and said, "Did you get the photographs of yourself that I asked for?"

Nodding, I handed my cell phone over to him where I had stored a number of recent photographs from the past two years. Seth began to flip through them with a critical eye. At last, he said, "If the only thing we have to keep in mind is that we need to make people believe that Temperance Brennan isn't Andi Anderson, that means making Andi as different from Temperance as possible while not going so far as to make you see odd, out of place, attention grabbing..."

He began to scribble something, continued flicking through the photos, and said, "What I am about to say is said as merely a critical assessment, of course."

I nodded. "And, as such, no offense will be taken."

"Temperance Brennan has a certain style. It is eclectic. But conservative. You dress to reinforce your individuality as a person first, your status as a female second. You favor accentuating your legs… it makes you seem taller than you actually are. Your clothing here does little to focus the eye on your bone structure or breasts… both well endowed points that Andi should emphasize to differentiate herself from Temperance. You tend to favor no consistent style with your hair… sometimes curly, sometimes wavy, rarely styled for style's sake. From this point on, Andi will be vain about her hair. Temperance's length is too practical. Andi's, given it is her primary vanity, will be impractical. I can see you have already let it grow out so that your hair is longer than in any of these photos, yes?"

I nodded again.

Seth nodded in return. "Good… a good start… but you will need extensions… and bangs I think. Bangs will draw attention to your cheek bones. We will use a straightener… Andi has woefully straight hair despite how much she hates it. And, obviously the color must be changed."

Looking up at me over his the tip of the phone, Seth assessed me with a curious eye. He said, "Sometimes in these photos I see a light brown hair like your father, and sometimes I see an auburn tint. Do you color your hair now?"

I shook my head. "No, the color changes depending on how much time I am in the sun."

"Then you will not be a brunette or a redhead," Seth said. "The right shade of blonde hair, however, might be an interesting choice."

"No!" I said, in a loud voice. Seth was momentarily taken aback by my outburst. I smiled, and said in a quieter voice. "I am not dying my hair blonde."

Seth frowned. He then shrugged, and said, "Then it will have to be black… brown hair so dark, it is almost black, like your mother's."

It was at this point that I suddenly had a realization. Seth hadn't just helped Matthew Brennan become Art MacGregor. He had helped Christine Brennan become another woman too. At this, I felt a lump form in my throat, but I swallowed it and focused on the matter at hand. I nodded. "That's fine."

Seth nodded at my agreement, and then continued murmuring as he scribbled. "Colored contacts, of course… brown, I think, will help off reinforce the shift in your coloring. Now, there is dye we can use to alter your skin tone… much like a spray on tan… as long as you reapply when you get where you are going, until the sun naturally darkens you, it should change your pale skin tone to a gradient at least two shades darker. A healthy tan, no?

Seth continued to scribble. He then stopped, set the pen down, and said, "Of course, there are other details. You will have to chose all new cosmetics…deodorants, soaps, perfumes, laundry detergents. Scent is very important. I will select your new clothing for you, and have it sent here. Of course, that will need to be covered as a part of my expense account. I will need your sizes. The clothing Andi wears will be her own style. She is practical, like you, but more flashy in some ways… less conservative. We will downplay your height… accentuate your curves."

Seth wrote down something once more. He then put the pen and the pad back in his bag and took out a business card. He handed it to me, and said, "You leave when?"

"Two weeks from tomorrow," I said.

Seth nodded. "Then I will see you in twelve days. Andi's wardrobe will be here by then. My last meeting with you will be for the fitting. At that point we will go over makeup and hair styles and posture. How you carry yourself is almost as important as how you dress. Ideally, I would have liked more time for you to be able to get used to being Andi, but we've only got to work with what we've got to work with…. In the meantime, you must decide on voice and diction. I suggest no accents too different from your own. Making something too elaborate is often the greatest blunder people make in trying to master the art of disguise. Once Andi is Andi, just let her be Andi. Then, the rest will fall into place."

I had my doubts… but I had to try. As soon as I got off the plane, would Booth know me? Would he truly see me? Or someone else?

In either case, my plan would ensure one thing. Andi Anderson would be getting off the same plane and beginning her tour with Booth's regiment at the same time I had confirmed, in reality, that another reporter from CNN news, the television department, was slated to begin her own tour… and that woman's name was Hannah Burley.

-DELETE-

-TBC-