Wow! We made it to chapter 10! It seems like ages ago that I began this. Well maybe not for you, but it seems like a year to me. I would have updated earlier, but I have something special for all of you on the 4th of July. Not to mention another thing. What I'm working on is always posted on my Twitter (objectivemiss).
By the way, I realized I lead a love affair with semicolons. Kurt Vonnegut said that "They are transvestite hermaphrodites representing absolutely nothing. All they do is show you've been to college." While I have not yet been to college, I like my semicolons and I hope that does not stop your enjoyment of this fic.
Twitter - objectivemiss
Enjoy!
B&B
Day 160
B&B
It was raining. Suffice to say, Brennan didn't like it. Although logically, she knew that rain was simply liquid precipitation caused by the condensation of atmospheric water vapor, it was simply distracting from the work that needed to be done. She knew that the water was needed for both plant and animal life to flourish; it was simply disruptive to the entire team's schedule. Every time it would rain, she would lay in bed simply allowing the sounded of rhythmic beat of H2O. Whether it was before her parents disappeared or after when she was stuck in abusive foster homes, it was a source of comfort.
So it was in these wee hours of the morning that Brennan hung out her hut's permanently open windows, simply watching the rain fall to the ground and puddle. She hadn't been sleeping well lately; nightmares had always been a reoccurring issue in her sleep, but lately, that had become more prevalent. Taphephobia is the fear of being buried alive. Phobia, from Greek phóbos, meaning "fear" or "morbid fear," is irrational by definition. But when one considers that serial killers like Heather Taffet, the "Gravedigger," exist, the fear of being ensepulchered until death by suffocation.
"Dr. B?" the sleepy voice of Daisy Wick said accented with a yawn.
"Yes?"
"Why are you awake, it's like four AM?"
She debated internally whether or not to open up to the young woman. "I have not been sleeping well."
"I'm been told I'm an extremely adept listener and I would be more than willing to lend an ear."
"I appreciate your offer, but I already have two functioning ears. I have no need for another."
"You're so funny!"
Brennan turned from the rain scene.
"Oh…" Daisy looked down, "you were being serious…"
"I've been told that I can be…austere."
"I don't think that you're that serious…or at least to a bad extent. Like a 'death glare' length or where-"
The senior anthropologist's unhappy glare caused her to stop rambling.
"Sorry, I'm trying to kick the habit of babbling."
"You could learn a polysynthetic language so that you could cram more morphemes in to fewer words, thus allowing you to talk as much as you want," Brennan smiled.
Daisy stared at her blankly.
"That was an attempt at humor," she stated.
Why didn't people get her humor? Booth did…sometimes; but only if she used small and easy to digest words. Digestion occurs faster if surface area is increased with allows a larger area for reaction, thus quickening it. Mentally she shook herself to the present; she was going off on a tangent.
"Dr. B, I hope you don't mind but I'm still really really tired and I'm going to go back to sleep."
"That's perfectly acceptable. I apologize for waking you."
"Oh no, you didn't make me. I wake up periodically, that's all."
"Enjoy your rest."
Brennan turned her attention back out the window to the rain. She rested her head against the windowsill. She noted a shadowy figure off in the heated haze; male judging the hip structure. As the figure neared, the darkness revealed more and more of the jogging man. It was Keith Merrill, the intern. He actually had a decent musculature judging by his silhouette. He was a bit young though.
"Dr. B!" he yelled.
"Quiet Keith," she looked over her shoulder to check on Daisy. "Daisy is sleeping," she said in a hushed tone.
"Sorry," he said quietly. "Any better?"
"Yes, but what can I do for you?"
"Yeah, it's my shift in the comm. hut, and some Sergeant Major," he made skeptical air quote gesticulations in the air, "is calling for you."
With great excitement, Brennan jumped to her feet and ran from the hut.
"Hey! Do you want me to get you an umbrella or something?"
The heavy downpour didn't matter; Booth was on the line. They hadn't talked for twenty-seven days, during Angela and Hodgin's visit. They shared a conference call in which, luckily, no detail of any college frat parties had been shared. Had Booth know what had transpired that night…he would have severely ridiculed her during that case they worked a year or two ago with the frat boy that was found mutilated in a mascot costume.
The rain wet her hair and soaked through her thin tank top. She wasn't even wearing shoes she had rushed out so quickly; the rain drenched ground squished through her toes. Rationally, she should have stopped to slip on a pair of waterproof shoes with ankle support. The water saturated ground had an extremely low friction; it would be all too easy to slip and injure her ankle, even a break to the fibula depending on the fall.
She pushed through the flimsy door into the communications hut, her feet leaving muddy footprints. She would have to pick that up. The phone rested next to the cradle. She picked it up.
B&B
Shit, it was 1:03AM. Shit, it was only 1:03 AM. Booth lay in the barrack looking up at the blank ceiling. Well, empty, except for the giant Megan Fox poster that Corporal Will Austin had stapled to it. She was the Betty Grable of the War in Afghanistan alright, and this new group really made it obvious.
He rolled to his side, trying to fall asleep. But just his luck, whatever schmuck had the bed next to him was snoring, and loudly at that. Damn it! All he wanted to do was jump out of bed and flip the neighboring mattress off its frame and shut that stupid snorer up. Usually, he would just threaten to shoot the person in question, but everyone in the Army had a gun; so it didn't carry as much weight as threatening a poor little scientist.
Deciding that he wasn't going to get any sleep, he slid out of bed, and quickly yet quietly pulled his boots on, not even bothering to lace them up. He stealthily left the barrack, meeting the dry desert air. The days on base were terribly hot, but the evenings could be surprisingly cold. Ignoring the little amount of protection that his wife-beater offered, he hustled over to the recreation building. The place was open 24-7; plenty of guys felt tremendous stress and dealt with it any way they could. While the Army offered mental health specialists, many soldiers didn't want to deal with that crap. Plenty were restless like him; so the center had TV and games all night.
The center wasn't buzzing, but there certainly were people there. Two guys were zoned out in front of some reality TV show. One guy played ping pong alone against a half propped up table Forest Gump style. Otherwise, a few lounged on a few overstuffed chairs and couches.
Booth plopped down in front of the TV with nothing else to do.
"You want to change it to something decent?" one of the watchers complained.
"Nah man, I like this crap."
"Why don't we just find some news," Booth suggested.
"Too depressin'. I don't want to hear about our war."
"Come on," he pointed at the small TV, "just look at this crap. They're shooting water guns."
"Yeah," one of the guys crossed his arms. "Those girls aren't even close to being hot."
Finally, the couch potato pair changed it to CNN.
"Tonight, more news of Predator Drone strikes in Pakistan. It is reported that major Al Queda leaders were killed or injured in the strike. We also hear that three American soldiers were killed in a reported helicopter malfunction in the Khost providence. Three more soldiers are MIA as of tonight."
Frustrated, one of the guys threw the remote at the TV, somehow managing to shut it off. They were right; no wonder no one liked to watch the news around here. It was just painful.
"See man, I told ya. No news for me."
"You said it bro. You said it…"
He hadn't left the barracks to hear more crap. He stood up suddenly, moving for a quiet corner.
Is it really that hard to find decent company?
Now he really missed Bones. It was really too bad that she was probably sleeping. When they were back in D.C., they would talk at all hours of the night.
It wouldn't hurt to try to call her…
Guessing that if anything, it would take some time off his hands, Booth slunk over to the pay phones, whipping out his calling card. Luckily, he took to keeping it handy; he never knew when he would get the guts up to call Bones.
"Hello, Keith Merrill speaking…" a sleepy kid answered the phone.
"Yeah, is this still the Maluku site?"
"Yeah, no way it could change. Dude, you know it's like 4 AM here right?"
"Don't dude me buddy. I'm lookin' for Dr. Temperance Brennan, know her?"
"Of course I know her. How could I not?"
"Well…could I speak to her?"
"She's probably sleeping."
"You don't know that."
"It's pouring. Do you seriously want me to go check?"
"If she's awake and wants to talk, then I'd like to."
"Can I get your name at least?"
Booth debated whether to yank the kid around a bit. Nah. If he was one of Bones' guys, he couldn't be that bad. "I'm Sergeant Major Booth. We're very good friends."
"You're that guy she talks about!"
"Oh really?" he couldn't hid a smile that she found him worth mentioning. Well, how could she not; they were partners after all.
"Yeah yeah. Hey, it may take me a bit to get down to her hut. Give me like ten minutes, I'll be back I promise."
"Thanks man." Booth drummed his fingers against the wall. It was going to be a long ten minutes.
All he knew about the dig site was that it was big. Wait, she lived in a hut? Bones said that she shared a room with Daisy…but a hut? That was worse than he was off! Man, he thought the barracks could be bad!
Suddenly tired he rested his head against the wall, allowing his eyes to close.
"Hello?"
B&B
"Hello? Booth? Are you there?"
"Bones!"
"Why did you call at such an hour?"
"Why are you awake at such an hour?"
"Touché. Is something wrong? Are you okay?"
"Yeah everything is fine…I just wanted to talk."
"By my calculations it's 1 AM in Kabul. Are you suffering from insomnia?"
"Bones. I'm fine. Trust me. Okay?"
"I trust you."
"Good. How's the dig going?"
"Quite satisfactorily. Adi is revealing quite a bit on the development of the homo genus.
"Is Adi the skeleton? Or some sort of new intern you got on your hands."
"Booth. The majority of my team is not comprised of interns. Rather, highly acclaimed anthropologists, all except Daisy and Keith with doctorates."
"I need you to remind me of something."
"Sure."
"Something happened over here. I don't want to tell you about it over the phone…"
"Why not? It's just a medium of communication."
"I want to tell you in person okay? Remind me."
"I will. I-I need to tell you something."
"Go ahead Bones."
"I-I think that after quite a bit of thought, that I feel…"
"Bones? Is your connection crummy? You were breaking up."
"Yes, it must be the connection or something like that…"
"What were you saying?"
"I-It's nothing. I'll tell you when you tell me what you wanted to tell me."
"It's a deal Bones. That sounds good to me."
"So anything else worth noting?"
"Hey, my calling card is running out of time. I used most if it calling Parker the other day."
"I can send you a new one. Did you get my care package?"
"No not yet. Where the heck did you send it from?" "Where else could I send it from? The locals said that it had to be sent by courier to Jakarta before being sent anywhere."
"I had better go Bones…"
"Bye…stay safe okay?" "You got it."
B&B
She hadn't said it. She had almost said it, but she turkeyed out. Or was it "chickened out"…
Brennan couldn't help but feel embarrassed; she was stronger than that. As she had told Angela, she wanted to say that she could…possibly have feelings for him. She was angry at herself; that didn't happen also
Great, now she was emotionally distressed, without shoes, soaked, and muddy.
She felt like hitting something. It would be an efficient way to dissipate her anger. It wasn't like she had much experience with these sorts of feeling.
She picked up a towel lying on the counter, using it to first dry herself off, then to wipe the mud off her feet. Why had she run out without putting shoes on again? Brennan dropped heavily to the room's couch, running a shaky hand through her hair. The phone call had affected her more than she would care to admit. Nothing had really transpired of note in the call, but she was too weak to even tell him how she felt.
"Dr. B?" Keith timidly stepped into the communications hut brandishing a pair of shoes. "I kinda figured that you didn't want to walk back…or anywhere, without shoes," he shrugged.
Brennan smiled, "Thanks."
"Was the call really that exciting that you ran off without these?" he placed the shoes on the floor in front of her.
"You'd be surprised."
"Well considering you, it must have been uber important. Like 'world is going to end' important. Or 'I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you' important. Or-"
"I think I get the idea."
"No problem. I'm great at exaggerating," the intern grinned.
She pulled on the shoes; he hadn't brought socks. "You're use of hyperbole is notable."
"What a compliment," Keith laughed. "Hey look, I'm gonna grab some shut eye before I work. Are you good?"
Brennan debated whether or not to mention the lack of socks. In the end, she decided against it. "I'm good."
All she could do is wait to see what Booth had to say to her.
Just 200 more days to wait to hear what Booth has to say…
B&B
He hadn't said it. He just couldn't bring himself to tell her about the whole sniper deal. Booth knew she would be upset; more than upset. He had promised her that he would be just doing training. Booth didn't break his promises. It just wasn't something that he did. But when the Army tells you to do something, you can't exactly say no.
"What are you doing up you lug," someone said from behind him.
Booth turned, it was Moore. "Just can't sleep. You?"
"I had the late shift. I usually drop by here and grab something from the vending machine. They stock the medical vending machine with the crap. They only have baked chips over there! Here, they got the real stuff."
He laughed, following the surgeon to the vending machine.
"There we go…" he inserted a few quarters into the machine, pressing a few buttons. Much to the Major's joy, a bag of cheddar and sour cream chips dropped. "My favorite!" he ripped the bag open with his teeth. "Want one?"
"Sure, hit me," Booth made a grab for the bag.
"Hey man, don't get greedy."
"Fine," the Sergeant Major settled for a few of the chips.
"So who were you talking with? Before we start this conversation I have to warn you, I have to get the minimum required sleep so I can be ready to fix up anyone that comes in tomorrow."
"Wait, isn't there another guy to do that?"
"Yes, but no offence to him, I'm better. No getting out of that question though," Moore munched on his chips.
"I was talking to Bones."
"Ah, the lady friend anthropologist," he put air quotes around "lady friend."
"The one and only."
"She get me that signed book yet?"
"I emailed it, but she said she doesn't have any copies on her. She said she would send you one when she gets home. Will you still be on base then?"
The Major shook his head, "I leave a month before you do."
"Getting moved?"
"No, getting done."
"If that was supposed to be sexual…"
"No Booth. I'm done with the Army. All I want to do is take a trauma surgeon position. I was thinking Johns Hopkins."
"Well…it's near D.C., I approve."
"Oh, you approve," Moore smiled. "I have to go sleep now. Not that I really want to. You should catch some shuteye too," he laid a hand on his shoulder.
With Moore gone and nothing else to do, Booth wandered back to the barrack. He slid back into bed, hopefully unnoticed. He forced his eyes shut, falling into sleep.
Just 200 more days to figure out what Bones wanted to tell him…
B&B
For those of you who said that avoiding telling that special something was very Brennan like, you win the Bones prize. I was so Brennan like it had to happen.
Send me a review and thanks for your support. Sorry if I missed replying to anyone's review; if I plan on writing more back I typically save it to write at my computer instead of my phone. Hope you enjoyed!
Twitter - objectivemiss