[A/N: Like many of you, my infatuation with Bones grew exponentially after this week's episode. Wow. Those people who write for that show on TV are geniuses. And Mr. Boreanaz's performance at the end of "Daredevil" blows me away more the more I watch it.
Writing a disclaimer here seems inappropriate—I'd never own anything as good as Bones, but I do adore it!]
Chapter 21—Tragedy in the Timing
2:30 a.m.
The phone in Booth's apartment rang loudly, interrupting the apartment's only occupant's heavy slumber. Sleepy and disoriented, Fallon answered the call. She sat straight up in bed when she heard who was calling. She asked a few questions and received whispered answers in return.
Then, hesitating only briefly, she threw on a pair of jeans and a blouse, grabbed her jacket, and snuck out the window and down the fire escape so as not to alert her security team. She was in a hurry to get across town to meet a co-worker from the ATF task force. He said they'd finally gotten a break in the case about The Taker, and he'd asked her not to bring the troops with her so as not to draw attention to their meeting place.
She'd barely paused to consider doing anything than what he suggested. Danger or not, if there was anything she could do to bring that creep of a kidnapper in, Fallon was damned well going to do it.
6:30 a.m.
Brian Rackley had fallen asleep at his desk—again. He'd been logging so many hours lately that he hardly noticed the difference between day and night. He'd been working double-time to find this serial killer and had started bringing two changes of clothes every time he went to the office just in case he didn't make it home for several days. More often than not, he worked through both sets of clothing before finding his way back to his apartment. He was hoping that he'd end up with commendations and the gratitude of his superiors. He even figured he'd have the respect of one of the bureau's top agents if he brought this guy in and set things back to normal for everyone around there and at the Jeffersonian. This particular morning he had slipped into an awkward slumber upon his crossed arms on the desktop blotter after a night of plotting new strategies for identifying leads until 3:15 a.m. When the chirp of his cell phone roused the man, Rackley wiped spittle from one corner of his mouth and answered the call.
All exhaustion and fatigue vanished as he listened to the lead on Patterson's security detail. They'd gone inside Booth's apartment at 6:15 a.m. when Patterson hadn't come out on time. They'd found the apartment empty and the window to the fire escape unlocked and slightly open.
6:48 a.m.
Uneasy from the enormity of the night's revelations and a bit skittish maneuvering around her apartment with her partner there in the morning for the first time in ages, Brennan flinched when her cell phone rang.
She'd woken earlier that morning to the unfamiliar sound of her shower running for someone else. Booth had gotten up early, put on a pot of coffee, set a travel mug filled with the warm caffeinated beverage on the table beside her sofa, and made his way into her bathroom to get ready for his workday. She'd pretended to be asleep when Booth had returned to her living room. She'd feigned sleep still as he sat on the edge of the sofa and roused her gently. As if he'd been expecting her to be uneasy, Booth smiled at her in a very friendly way and mumbled something about making her breakfast. Rising slowly, she'd stretched and padded toward her room, mumbling a sleepy "Thanks" as she passed her partner who was rifling through her kitchen cabinets for the pans he needed to make breakfast for them.
Her mind still filled with her partner's declarations from the night before, Brennan found that she remained interested in stalling about facing him even after her shower. It would be nothing but awkward to pretend that she hadn't spent the night cradled in his warm embrace, that she hadn't considered turning around and capturing his lips with her own so that she might lay claim to that strong body that had held her attention for years now. She had too much integrity to cheat, and she'd known that Booth wouldn't, but it hadn't been easy to just lie there with him and pretend that she didn't ache for a deeper physical intimacy even though there were so many emotional barriers to keep that from being a real option.
She shook her head as she ruminated on the fact that it was her feelings she wanted to hide more than her attraction to her partner. Booth's words had broken down her carefully crafted defenses. She wasn't sure that she had the energy or the wherewithal to keep a safe distance from him and just be his partner. However, the thought of being closer and more intimate than that terrified her even more than trying to put up a front. Avoiding him was so much easier than either of the other two options.
Afraid to think about what she'd feel if Booth's declarations from the night before didn't withstand the light of day, she took her time packing things in her satchel. She'd been grateful that he seemed almost as shell-shocked and silent as she felt after their tear-filled conversation the night before.
Despite her earlier determination to keep her distance, as soon as the phone rang, she wished she had run straight into her partner's arms and told him to damn the consequences—that they'd waited long enough. Stunned hearing Rackley's voice on her line, Brennan listened carefully and followed his instructions to meet Agent Perotta at Booth's apartment. As much as she hated misleading Booth about where she was going, she realized that it was the appropriate course of action since she had no evidence to support her nagging fears. After meeting Booth in the kitchen and getting his reassurance that he was headed straight to the office, she lied and told him she was going to the lab. Trying not to look disappointed that she was clearly avoiding him, he promised to call her later—after he'd had a chance to talk to Fallon.
Booth noticed that Bones looked worried, and he stopped her before she could leave the apartment. "Are you okay, Bones?"
"I'm fine," she said as convincingly as she could. "Just tired. I'm needed for something urgent at the lab. I realize that refusing to eat a breakfast cooked by a friend might be construed as rude. I really appreciate the time you took cooking, but I really must go."
As she turned to leave, a concerned Booth followed her toward the door. He was determined to reassure Bones that he wasn't chickening out or changing his mind—not about them, never again about them. "I've been calling her since quarter to six," he said, placing a hand upon her arm gently. "She must have gone to work early today. I'll try to talk to her tonight. This isn't the kind of thing you can say to someone at the office," he said honestly, his eyes searching hers for understanding. "You can trust me, Bones. I meant what I said last night. I'm ending it with her. I want a chance to earn your trust back."
"I never stopped trusting you, Booth," Brennan replied honestly.
His heart warmed from the simplicity of her statement and the loyalty it conveyed.
"Thanks, Bones. I know this is a lot to think about. But everything will be okay. One thing at a time. I'll talk to Fallon and then you and I can talk some more, okay?"
She surprised him by launching herself into his arms. She clung to him tightly—so much so that he was encouraged by her willingness to do so. She was relieved that he seemed to relax after that embrace. Smiling as best she could, she left the apartment and nodded for her security detail to follow her. Then she drove across town to get what she knew would have to be bad news.
7:26 a.m.
Upon Dr. Brennan's arrival at Booth's apartment, Agent Perotta filled her in on what had happened. Fallon's cell phone had been located outside the parking deck near ATF headquarters. They were pulling up security camera videotapes, but they could only assume that she'd snuck out in the middle of the night to meet someone there and that The Taker had kidnapped her from that location. Fred Sovitch, another ATF agent, was also missing. He and his 8 year-old daughter had disappeared the day before after a soccer game. Fred's cell phone had not been located, but they were beginning to assume that he'd been the one to call her and that the phone had been dumped somewhere afterward.
Agents from both FBI and ATF were swarming around any and all leads, but nobody felt good about this. Everyone was on edge, and nobody wanted to tell Booth that Fallon was missing. Perotta informed Dr. Brennan that Booth had not yet been informed about Patterson's disappearance.
"I'll tell him," Brennan said in an unsteady voice as she reached to pull her cell phone out of her bag.
"Don't. Not over the phone. He'll get in his SUV and drive here, Dr. Brennan. Let him get to headquarters. Sweets will distract him until we can get over there to tell him. He'll tell him if he has no choice but to do so. But for Booth's safety, let him get there before he hears the news."
Obviously shaken, Temperance replaced her phone and turned to the forensic squad to ask them if she could be of any help at the scene. When Perotta asked her to walk through the apartment and note anything that looked out of place, she nodded and walked away. She noted the irony that they would still assume that she had intimate knowledge of Booth's home and his belongings.
She couldn't, wouldn't allow herself to consider anything other than facts in that moment. She couldn't imagine the guilt Booth would feel over choosing to be there with her and professing his feelings for her while his girlfriend had been kidnapped. No, she reminded herself. She had no evidence that Fallon had been kidnapped. She would refuse to leap to conclusions. There was no vise found or a note to indicate that The Taker had Fallon. It didn't require much of an intuitive leap to arrive at that conclusion, but she would refuse to do so for Booth's sake. Something else had to have happened. For this to be real and as horrible as it appeared would be unimaginably difficult for him. Her heart ached even considering what the impact of all of this on her newly restored sense of hope of working things out with her partner might be.
Temperance walked through the apartment carefully, trying to focus on details of the décor instead of allowing her mind to speculate or her heart to break for her partner. She tried to smile remembering Booth's conversations about hockey pucks and sports jerseys and other popular culture paraphernalia he collected. She tried not to ache as she noticed Fallon's belongings interspersed with Booth's so casually—as if they'd been there forever. Even though her nerves were frayed and she felt uncomfortably emotional, she simply refused to allow herself to consider the pain this whole situation might bring to her. Her breathing was unsteady, but her steps and her eyes were sure. She needed to do this, to help find Fallon.
As she turned and walked into the bedroom, she froze. She watched Agent Perotta reading something.
THE HEART IN THE VISE… THE HEART IN THE VISE… THE HEART IN THE VISE…
Dear Seeley,
I don't want you to feel guilty about going to be with Dr. Brennan instead of staying here with me tonight. I know that you were upset and needed some space. I wanted you to stay here with me, but I understand why you didn't.
It's not like me to write to you like this, but after you left tonight, I remembered the love letters you wrote to me years ago and thought that I'd try to leave one for you. I'm not half as good at the mushy stuff as you can be when you're determined to try it, but I'll try to apologize as honestly as I can—hoping that you'll take the gesture the way I mean it.
I'm sorry I put you on the spot tonight and said all those things out of jealousy. I know none of this has been easy for you and that you've got enough pressure on you already without me adding to it.
Strong and capable as Dr. Brennan is, she's the civilian. She's the one you swore an oath to protect. I'm not naïve enough to think you're just doing your job, but I also know that you don't have a choice not to protect her. I know that you need to be there and be the one to make sure nothing happens to her - because anything happening to her because of this case would kill you. Even though we've been getting closer, I know that she's someone you simply can't risk losing, and you know that I'm okay with that. I also know that I can take care of myself.
Another reason for writing this down is that I can't see us actually talking about that argument we just had any time soon. You'll need some time to cool off, and I'll need some time to stitch my ego back together. I know that this is complicated, but I know that you haven't made any promises to me, and I understand why you're not here. I hate how insecure and vulnerable I feel about this relationship, but I know that I'm mostly to blame for the distance that still looms between us because of things with Pete and because of the way I surprised you by showing up here unannounced.
I know that you'll be honest with me once you figure out your feelings. It's just harder some days than others to wait for that to happen. I only wish your feelings for your partner weren't as strong as they are. I worry that they'll pull us apart. Maybe if I'd been nicer to her. Maybe if I'd gone more out of my way to win her approval. Maybe then we could have gone over there to watch over her together and grown closer together instead of bickering the way we did.
Or maybe none of those things would have been happened. I think she loves you too much to share you with anyone else. You may doubt that, but my women's intuition tells me that it's true.
I want to fight for you, and I won't apologize for doing so. Unless you give me a reason to do otherwise, I'm going to make peace with things as they are and wait for you to settle your own feelings. I'm grateful for this chance, and I'm going to stand beside you until we get through this—no matter who will be there to hold you when this is over.
If I know you, you'll take one look at this letter and drag me to your bedroom to show me how you feel about me instead of talking about this. Trust me, I won't mind at all—that's my favorite solution to any problem. Making love with you makes me forget that I even have problems.
I love you, Seeley. I don't think I ever stopped. I'm glad to have this chance to win your heart back, and I'm damned determined to do so. You know how driven and stubborn I am. You'll need all the luck of the Irish to keep your heart from falling for me again. I hope you won't try to fight it. Because I like the woman I am when I'm with you, and I want to be the woman who earns the right to share that loyal, adoring, amazing heart of yours if that's still possible.
Even if it's not, you're still worth the effort.
Love,
Fallon
Swallowing hard imagining how hard reading that letter will be for Booth and how much he'd hate having his privacy infringed upon that deeply, Perotta bagged the letter and put it in her purse to take to Rackley. She decided right then that she'd ask him not to add the letter to the evidence files and to plan to discuss it with Booth after they found Patterson.
8:36 a.m.
What Perotta had not anticipated was that Dr. Brennan would see hear reading the note and demand to read it. When she refused, the scientist argued loudly with her about needing to see it. She even accused her of tampering with evidence and even of kidnapping Patterson.
Realizing that the woman would not back off easily, Perotta tried to reason with her, "Dr. Brennan, you know I have no reason to harm Agent Patterson."
As the woman replied, Perotta observed that Brennan in Booth protection mode was an absolute force of nature. The woman's composure clearly not complete, she gritted her teeth and growled at her, "Professional jealousy, jealousy about her boyfriend. Don't pretend that you're not attracted to Booth. That would be reason enough to suspect you might have done this."
As determined as the genius before her, Perotta shot back, "I'm going to overlook your ridiculous accusations because I respect you, and I know that you're just worried about your partner. But you need to knock it off, or I'll be forced to have you pulled off this case."
Brennan took a step closer, as if considering whether to remove the letter from her bag forcibly, "That would be convenient. Then you could hide more evidence."
Realizing that their conversation was becoming loud and would draw unwelcomed attention, Perotta moved over to close the door and turned to face her angry accuser, "I'm not hiding evidence! This is just something very personal and private that Agent Booth won't want broadcast everywhere. We'll scan it for fingerprints and trace evidence, but the content of this letter is not critical to the case."
Brennan would not be convinced, "How do I know that you won't destroy the letter?" Perotta had to admire the woman's fierce loyalty to her partner.
"You can watch me hand it over to Rackley, Dr. Brennan. Trust me here. I'm the one who suggested that you be called over here this morning. And Booth trusts me to work with you when he can't. I respect and admire him even though I don't know him as well as you do. I'm thinking of him here. Do you really think he needs a painful, private letter shared with the whole team after everything he's been through with this case? Do you want to be the one to air his most private matters with the team? Can you stomach the idea of doing that to him?"
When Brennan paused momentarily, Perotta accepted her brief silence as a "no." "Good," she replied. She watched as Brennan wrestled between her need to know what was in that letter and the need to protect her partner from further pain.
"But why not show the letter to Booth?" Dr. Brennan asked, her voice quavering slightly as she said her partner's name.
"Booth doesn't need to see this until after we've found Patterson."
When Brennan got angry again and stepped closer to her to intimidate her, Perotta stared her down and told her that seeing the note now would only bring Booth pain. "This letter is intensely personal and private, Dr. Brennan. There are things in this letter that simply don't need to be discussed in front of rooms full of agents."
Temperance stood there for a moment understanding exactly how upset Booth would be about having more of his own personal pain and frustration revealed to his colleagues. Knowing that the woman was right but feeling a stronger drive than ever to help her partner, Temperance pled with her again, "But what if there's something relevant that will help us find the killer? I need to see this letter." In her mind, she was not among those people Booth would want any information kept from. But thoughts like that stirred emotions she just couldn't face right now.
Watching the flicker of emotion on the woman's face, Perotta reacted more empathetically, appealing to the woman's trust in her partner, "If Booth decides to show it to you later, he'll be the one making that decision. I'm doing this for him, Dr. Brennan. I need your assurance that you will respect my decision to protect your partner from unnecessary pain."
Looking away for a moment, Brennan glanced back up as if to demand the trust from this woman, "There's no evidence inside…?"
Relieved that she seemed to be making headway, Perotta tried to be honest with the woman before her, "Not of anything relevant to the crime." Perotta's heart went out to this woman. She knew she'd withstand the rumors and the embarrassment of having her own connection to her partner exposed and made public. But she wanted to save her that grief so that she'd be fully able to help her focus on helping solve this case to help her partner.
Not really surprising her, a more soft spoken Brennan shifted gears and tried to reason with her from a different perspective, "I don't understand why I can't see it. I know that Agent Patterson loves Booth. I know that they're intimate. I can't imagine anything in that letter that would surprise me. He needs me to find her alive, Agent Perotta. If the letter would help…."
Perotta saw clearly the love the woman before her tried so hard to pretend wasn't there overpowering her. She decided to make that work for her in this situation, "Dr. Brennan, I'd like to think that I have earned a measure of respect from you working cases with you. Do this as a personal favor for me. If there were anything in this letter that made a material difference in the case, I'd be the first one to screw Booth's privacy and post it publicly. There's not."
Temperance sensed that the woman was being honest with her. As always, the truth gave her a strong measure of peace. But then her concern for her partner kicked in again, "Why not give it to Booth now?" Her voice cracked as she voiced the unimaginable, "It… it might be his last communication from her."
Watching the woman banish unbidden tears motivated Perotta to reach out and put her hand upon the woman's arm, "If it's not, she might decide that she doesn't want him to read the letter. If it is, he deserves to read it knowing that it's the last letter he'll have from her."
The fight virtually knocked out of her, Brennan tried once more to find a way to win this argument, "I really don't see how keeping evidence a secret will help anyone."
Noting how anxious the scientist appeared to be and knowing how completely mortified she'd be if she knew what was in that letter, Perotta moved to reassure her, "Once this case is over, I'll explain if you want me to do so. For now, let's just keep this bit of evidence under wraps. Rackley and I will be the only two people to read the letter. If he deems it pertinent to the investigation, I'll hand it over to Booth and the rest of the team."
"If I find out your purposes in this matter are deceitful or hurtful to Booth in any way, I will see to the demise of your career, Agent Perotta," Brennan stated, a determined expression on her face.
8:59 a.m.
"I'd expect nothing less from you, Dr. Brennan. You can trust me. I want to find this killer, too. We're all on Booth's side here. Let's get this letter to Rackley and head on over to the Hoover Building. I'm not sure how long Sweets will be able to keep Booth occupied. I think you need to be there when he gets the news that Patterson's missing, don't you?"
"Certainly," Temperance said in her typically crisp manner, but even she could hear the tinge of dread in her voice. Tamping back her own dread, she followed the female agent across the room.
THE HEART IN THE VISE… THE HEART IN THE VISE… THE HEART IN THE VISE…
9:17 a.m.
As she slipped into her car, Temperance reassured herself that she was doing the right thing. She could compartmentalize. She could handle this happening the way they'd planned—the way she'd demanded for Booth's sake. This was the best course of action, and she'd stick to it because it might make things easier for her partner.
As she followed Agent Perotta's car down the street, Temperance swallowed hard and collected her thoughts for a moment before pressing the button to dial Dr. Sweets' office.
He picked up on the second ring. "Dr. Lance Sweets."
"Have you told him?"
"No. But the matter is becoming more urgent," Sweets tried to reveal the situation to her without allowing Booth know that he was doing so.
"Tell him that we have evidence at the lab that he needs to see immediately."
"Do you?"
"No. But I think that hearing this news in the relative privacy of the lab will make it a bit easier for Booth, don't you?"
"I agree."
"I'm on my way there now. Bring him to my office," she said quickly before the line went dead.
Sweets slipped his phone into his pocket and turned to look at Booth. The man had grown increasingly agitated by his phony attempts to keep him in his office and away from the news about his girlfriend. He was trying to figure out a way to tell Booth that they needed to go over to the lab without making him suspicious about how he'd found out when Booth's cell phone rang. He should have known that Dr. Brennan was at least two steps ahead of him in all matters related to taking care of her partner. She was calling him herself so that Sweets wouldn't slip up and give him any idea what was going on.
"Booth!" he barked enthusiastically, clearly happy to receive a call that might get him away from his 12-year-old shrink. The kid had been all over the place this morning with questions and suggestions. Booth had sensed that he was poking and prodding to try to get him to admit something or to identify a way he might convince the man to talk to him about things he wasn't going to discuss with him now or ever. He'd deflected and ignored him and barked at him and tried a half-dozen other diversionary tactics.
Sure, he had enough issues going on with the women in his life at the moment to keep an army of shrinks busy and well paid, but Booth wasn't crazy. He felt completely sane for the first time in his life. He was going to set things straight so that he could move forward with Bones. And that thought alone had made him endure Sweets' nagging all morning—Bones was worth it. He was finally going to do the right thing.
"I'll be right there. Thanks, Bones," Booth added tenderly as he hung up the phone.
"Sorry, Sweets, but I have to get to the lab. We'll have to postpone the rest of our chat. Duty calls!"
9:24 a.m.
The man's relief and his eagerness to head to the lab where he was going to learn the devastating truth nearly broke Lance Sweets' heart. Swallowing hard and putting on his professional mask to hide his emotions, he asked the man if he could have a ride so that he might find some time to talk to Daisy.
Not seeing through his lie, Booth nodded and strode purposefully out of the office with Sweets unusually quiet beside him.