A/N: "Superhero in the Alley". I have the feeling that most people consider it a "fill-in" episode. For me, it was a deeply interesting voyage into a certain Temperance Brennan inner workings. For once, we get to see her imperfect. She gets nervous whilst doing a procedure, her coworkers call on her writer's block, she finds herself not being able to empathize with a group of outsiders and she lets her passion for human kind boil to the surface. What's NOT to like about it?
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You chided me with a smile and told me not to "use your charm smile on you", but you were smiling yourself, so I knew you weren't really bothered by it. I told you that "it was a mark of respect" and you accepted my explanation / apology graciously, and for that I was thankful.
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These had to be the geekiest group of geeky losers I've seen in a long time. But geeky or not, they were ogling at you, and I didn't like it. I acknowledge the fact that you were "actually a real live woman". I also added that you were "something you don't see often".
Maybe you didn't see a point in saying that, but they did. It was a matter of stating property. They don't get to have you. I do. Simple as that.
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You didn't agree with Dr. Goodman's appreciation of the comic. I suspect it had to do with the fact that he was using a good dose of psychology in his analysis. You were quick to try to prove him wrong, and declared that "your writing, for example, is pure fiction". But we all saw right through it. We had read your book after all. So Goodman pointed out that "you reveal much more of your worldview in your writing than you realize."
Anyone else would have taken a hint and leave it at that, but your stubborn nature wouldn't have it. You demanded specific examples, thinking you'd be able to debunk them or that we wouldn't be able to come with any good one. Unfortunately for you, we all could.
Dr. Goodman remembered that "Archaeologists make good administrators because they enjoy tedium". Angela added that "Artists are doomed to a life of loneliness because they aren't able to think beyond instant gratification." My own contribution, "FBI agents are hot, and Angela here wants to have sex with me", brought an enthusiastic "Yeah" from Angela and a nod from Dr. Goodman.
You should have seen the expression in your face. It was priceless. I got a glimpse of a very young Bones trying to prove she was better than everyone else and second guessing herself every step of the way.
But you're too damn stubborn to admit defeat. So you chose misdirection. You mumbled something about "Dr. Goodman going through Warren's writing" while "we concentrated on the hypotheses that were congruent with forensic evidence". Your parting words, "I'm going to take another look at Warren Granger's remains" were the clearest indicative that you didn't know how to get out of this mess you've created unwillingly. It was so endearing…
Maybe you're human, after all.
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Wishful thinking. The part about you being human. Anyone with your brains could have put 2 and 2 together and figure out that, if I have a bowling ball and a uniform with my name on it, I enjoy bowling. More than enjoy, actually.
But you had to go ahead and declare that "This is not a sport." Even after I gave you a sarcastic retort ("How do you figure?") you didn't get the hint.
No. You had to go on and on about how "There's no physical benefit. So it's really like golf. It's not a sport, it's an activity". It pissed me off. Big time. So I was harsh with you.
"You know; could you please Bones, maybe just for once, try not to piss off everyone around you." I apologize. But you deserved it. Doesn't' mean I don't care about you.
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Why is it that you have such a hard time empathizing with human suffering? Your accusing tone when you said "You told her that her son didn't tell her about being sick to make her feel better" made me feel as if I had committed a crime. You just didn't get it.
"You don't really believe that", you said, and I conceded by telling you that "People don't actually do that".
And then, it seemed as though you had seen the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. "So you just told her to make her feel better?" you asked. I agreed, hoping it would have cleared the obvious.
Wishful thinking on my part once more. Your damn logic kicked in: "So you just did what you just said people don't do". Fucking Spock would have been so proud of you. Wait. I take that back. You don't have a bleeping clue as to who is Spock and what is "Star Trek". Maybe you knew what a Vulcan is, but I sincerely doubt it.
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I came into the lab and found you bent over something or the other. All I noticed was that you were blowing on something. What an erotic sight that was! Trying to get myself focused back on the case, I asked you what you were doing. Your explanation was all seriousness. You told me that "Breathing on the sample dissipates static electricity and makes it easier to cut". I could see that you were nervous and pointed it out.
You told me then that "If you got this right, you'd be able to tell me the age, sex and race of Warren Granger's killer."
I let you work while I give you a short update on the case. I mention Abby and you seem surprised. I explain to you that "for a recluse, Warren Granger had his thumb in a lot of pies", and miraculously, you seem to get the idea. But I can see that something else is troubling you, so I keep quiet and let you work it on your own.
Finally you speak, and it breaks my heart to see you so vulnerable. "You said before that Warren reminded you of me. You think I'm just like him, that he hid from life by immersing himself in a fantasy world where he fought crime. And I do the same thing, only I don't have superpowers. I... I have science". You gaze down at your hands, but not before I see your eyes watering up.
I can't help it. I stand up and gather you in my arms. You stiffen for a second, but then you allow yourself to be held.
"No, Bones. You do fight crime. It's not a fantasy. As far as any normal person is concerned, you do have superpowers." I said that meaning to lighten the mood, but I had forgotten your stubborn streak.
"You're just saying that to me". The doubt in your voice makes my heart ache. If I could find those responsible for damaging you so badly I'd gladly kill them with my own hands, if that made you whole again.
"No, I don't do that". Please say you believe me. I would never lie to you, Temperance. I want you to know that.
"Yes, you do. You lied to Warren Granger's mother to make her feel better. That seems to be your superpower…"
Before I fully realize what it is that I'm doing, I've tilted your face and have softly kissed your lips. If you truly believe I have special powers, I want you to believe that I'll always use them to make you feel better. And when words won't do, there'll always be my arms and my lips. My whole body, should you need it.
You sighed against my lips and I let you go. You looked at me with a half smile, and went back to what makes you feel safe: your science. And while you chat about victims and bones and what not, I can notice how your mood has improved and I feel momentarily happy.
You asked me if I had seen "anyone on this case that had been favoring her arm?" and I had to admit that I hadn't noticed. That got me the biggest smile of them all. And a joke. And a taste of what heaven must feel like.
"That's because you're not an anthropologist with superpowers."
I chuckled. "That's good", I tell you. What goes unsaid is that you've made me a very happy man.
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Your anger was boiling close to the surface and it surprised me. Don't get me wrong, I know you're a passionate woman and that you feel things deeply, but I didn't expect this outburst.
You're indignant. "Her husband beats her", you plead in anger with me. I tried to keep things calmed by slightly joking about "multiple hypotheses". You admit that "It's a leap, yes, but it was bound to happen, with you spending so much time with me". And then you added quickly that you "meant that as a compliment".
You amaze me Bones. Have I told you that? You can be so oblivious to everything but your own scientific focus and yet, you're willing to walk the extra mile to make people feel better, even if you don't quite understand it yourself.
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But you're still pretty much ruled by logic and science and facts. That's why I was a tad surprised when you commented about how "in books you could find the real-world version".
I should have known better. But I decided, against my better judgment, to try and poke a bit more fun regarding how transparent your writing is. So I made a smartass comment along the lines of "if you know you, it's pretty obvious". I couldn't help but smile when you demanded, yet again, to be given an example.
"Okay. Well, in your book, your partner's a former Olympic boxer who graduated from Harvard and spoke six different languages. In real life, you got me."
I looked at you, a smug grin on my face, expecting some quick backpedaling on your part, endearing mumblings trying to work your way out of yet another hole dug by yourself. Instead of that, I got a not so nice: "So what you're saying is that reality falls far, far short of the fictional."
"Thanks a lot, Bones." I'll be in your office, licking my wounded pride.
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Once all the pieces of the puzzle fell together, we had enough evidence to confront the guilty part. Thus, we rode our black steed and headed to help the damsel in distress. We were out to play the superhero role. I mentioned that "it wasn't about the sex or the romance and that it never was." I could feel Warren Granger's motivations, even if I couldn't quite put a name to it. I felt that categorizing it would diminish it somehow.
But once more you surprise me. You managed to put my ideas into words in such a poetic fashion when you said that "he wanted to make a difference in the world before he died" and I couldn't agree more. But it is your last sentence, the "I told you he was more like you than me" that got me.
This case was a rollercoaster ride from beginning to end. WE went form sinners to saint, from mere mortals to superheroes. From work colleges to something much more deeper. I thought it was going to be one of those simple, almost boring cases, a stepping stone in our partnership, but nothing more.
In the end, it turned out to be a foundation stone.
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A/N: I hadn't meant for this to be so long, but I thought I'd give this style a try and the muse got pretty carried away! Please let me know what you think and if you saw the "new and improved" scene coming or if it got you by surprise.
