She was finally getting used to it. The silence.
Her life had been solitary for a long time, at least since her parents' disappearance (and mother's subsequent death), so being alone was not the thing that brought her this melancholy. Rather, it was the sudden silence from those around her.
Since Angela had her intervention of sorts with her, Brennan could sense an odd tenseness in the air. She hadn't inquired about the strange feeling, although she'd overheard Wendell and Hodgins complaining about the "lack of interesting cases lately."
Since Booth had taken his leave from the FBI and an indefinite leave from the Jeffersonian, murder cases had not been assigned to the team of scientists. In the hopes that Booth would soon return, Cam had also held off on inquiring about the placement of a new agent and informing Brennan she'd done so.
While the identification of stone-age remains interested Brennan, it left something to be desired. These identifications lacked the thrill of chasing suspects and racing against the clock. Not to mention only one in one-thousand sets of remains involved foul play of any kind. The team was getting antsy, and Brennan was no exception.
She learned quickly by trial and error that her interns were not as invested in this work as she. Even Hodgins and Angela were bored by the slow pace history presented. Cam had even busied herself with paperwork and free-lanced for the D.C. Chief Medical Examiner's office due to a deficit of flesh at the Jeffersonian. The usual jovial attitude of the Medico-Legal forensics platform had become one of resentment and boredom.
Brennan burst into Angela's office, visibly and understandably frustrated. "I just don't get it, Ange! Why is everyone so upset that we are identifying bodies? This is... it's what we do! It's what we've always done!" Brennan dropped her hands to her sides, tilting her head and pressing her mouth in a straight line.
Angela recognized the face. It was irritation with a hint of defeat. "Well, sweetie," she said with a grin, "let's be honest, really old dead guys are not as exciting as murders." She poured two cups of tea, handing one to her friend and gestured for her to sit down.
"But we used to only do historical identifications and authentications. Why is it so hard for everyone to just enjoy the uncovering of history?"'
Angela smiled. There were few people in the world that could truly reap joy from examining a dead body, and her twisted genius of a friend was one of them.
"Bren, it's like dating a b ad kisser, then dating a really good kisser. You don't realize the first guy was a bad kisser until you've tasted something much better."
"Kissing is irrelevant here. I'm speaking about our old murder cases compared with the ancient remains cases." She stopped and noticed Angela was giving her a look.
"It was a metaphor, sweetie. Old dead people being the bad kisser and fresh dead people being the good kisser." Angela mentally forbid herself from referring to someone as "freshly dead" again.
"Actually, it's a simile," -another look from Angela- "but I see what you meant."
As if someone had heard their conversation of kisses and the dead, Cam burst through the doorway of Angela's office just as Brennan had only minutes earlier.
"Alright, ladies, we have a case!" Cam tapped her hand on the doorman, seemingly bounding with pure energy and joy. It had been weeks since Brennan came back from her unannounced leave, and longer since anyone in the building had even had contact with anyone at the FBI.
The pair of friends jumped from their seats excitedly. "From this century?" Angela exclaimed.
"Better," Cam responded. "This week." She added a grin that neither Brennan nor Angela had seen before. "Not to mention foul play is suspected." Angela noted that either the month she had been out of the lab with Michael had warped her brain or she had come to enjoy the murder-solving process. Either way, she felt that the gaiety in the room was a tad morbid - yet completely acceptable.
After an initial assessment, the team had discovered that the body was that of a female in her late twenties. The body was found behind an apartment complex, but was determined to be dumped there postmortem.
"Without the FBI's report, we can't determine where to collect soil samples, we can't question any suspects or witnesses... are you going to call them, Dr. Saroyan?" Brennan was gunning to get on the case.
"Dr. Brennan, I assure you, I have talked to the FBI and they are sending us an agent within the hour. Just like thirty minutes ago when I told you the same thing." Cam, although annoyed with the persistent anthropologist, was thankful that the team was happier. Nothing like a murder investigation to liven spirits.
The team headed to the upper platform to break. They discussed Michael's first days, passed around pictures on Angela's tablet, and joked about sleep - and the lack thereof. It was Hodgins that broke the laughter.
"G-man!" The team all turned their heads down to the forensic platform to see Booth smiling up at them. So they thought.
Hodgins, Cam, Wendell, and Angela made their way down the stairs. Angela trailed slightly behind the rest and offered Brennan a glance before descending. Brennan returned a light nod, indicating her friend go without her.
They all took turns hugging the agent, as Brennan looked on. Murmurs of "where have you been?" and "how's Parker?" resounded. The smiling faces and laughs seemed so far away.
This silence, it seemed, she would never get used to.
Booth passed the security clearance and found himself once again in front of the large glass doors. It was a surreal kind of feeling, entering the lab again. After weeks of planning, talking to Rebecca and encouraging visits with Parker's doctor, Booth felt better about returning to service with the FBI.
The doors slid open. A feeling of unease struck him – he wanted this to be alright. For the team to be back in action and for the real purpose of the team to be fulfilled – solving murders. Fortunately, he knew the squints would be all for it. He just needed the queen of them all to agree. Her words from the ice rink floated into the forefront of his mind.
But, uh, you're the only FBI Agent I want to work with.
He believed she was telling the truth; she was always adamant that he be the only agent she dealt with, mainly because other agents would not be able to handle her. Booth only hoped that she would err on the side of trusting him again and not severing the Jeffersonian's ties with the FBI altogether. It was a call that on paper only Cam could make, but realistically was up to the illustrious Dr. Brennan.
He quietly approached the forensic platform, looking for signs of anyone. Booth could tell that the investigation had already begun judging from the disgustingly mangled body parts lying on the table. Sliding his card sent a wave of calm through him. The sound was familiar. Something actually hadn't changed.
Hey, you know what? Forget about Agent Perotta, all right? Nothing's gonna change between me and you.
She saw right through that.
Well entropy is a natural force that pulls everything apart at a subatomic level. Everything changes.
He lied.
Not everything, Bones… I'm never gonna make you fall. I'm always here.
His memory was interrupted when Hodgins saw him.
"G-man!" Booth smiled and looked up to the balcony from the case file in his hands. Like any tense situation, he met eyes with the person eye contact would be most awkward with. Those deep blue eyes. Before he'd seen her eyes for the first time those years ago, Booth scoffed at his pals who'd said they were head over heels and could 'get lost' in a woman's eyes. Now he was living it.
He pulled his unwilling eyes away from her as Hodgins approached him. He hugged the rest of the team. It was strange to him that such an eclectic group of people were his friends. He'd missed them.
"Where have you been, man?" Hodgins inquired.
"I took some time off to be with Parker…" he trailed off. It was no secret that although Parker was a big reason, Brennan's current distaste for him was the real reason he hadn't been around.
"How is my best friend Parker?" Angela reached a hand out and touched Booth's arm. "Better I hope?"
"He's doing great, ah, you know, for being bald and all. Tired all the time, but his counts have been good lately and he's starting to eat and act normally again. Doc says it's a good sign."
Cam could tell he was uncomfortable with the conversation and decided to distract. "We were all just sitting around and thought we might go get something to eat before completely diving into the case – what do you say to the diner?"
"That… that sounds good." He paused and looked up to the balcony, focus detaching from the conversation. "I just need to take care of something first. Meet you all there?"
A string of nods replied. Their faces said more than their words could. Do I look absolutely terrible? Why the pitiful sad-eyed puppy faces? I shaved…
He made his way to the stairs and began his ascension. He had practiced this speech a million times on the way over. I'm sorry, Bones. I won't ever do anything like this to you again. I'm a terrible person. You know I have a guilty conscience and I have to make this right. You mean the world to me and I love you.
The last three words inserted themselves every time he'd rehearsed. Although true, he was unsure if the words would scare her away more or convince her that he did still care. It was a gamble. He hoped that the words would just magically present themselves eloquently and smoothly. Such was not his luck in the past.
He reached the top of the stairs to find Brennan stretched out completely on the sofa. She had one arm wrapped around her stomach and the other draped over her head, with the crook of her elbow covering her eyes.
He approached slowly, as to not disturb her in the event that she had fallen asleep between the eye contact and that moment.
"Bones?" he whispered. Flinch. Her hand gripped her side firmly.
"Bones, are you okay? I…"
Maintaining her position, she tersely responded.
"What do you want?"
AN: You can't possibly understand my relief to finally have these two in the same room. The longing was getting really repetitive to write and I felt that it dragged on long enough. Now for some high-quality groveling on Booth's part. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing! Bones fans are the best.
love.