Update 21- Shaken, Not Stirred
Harding and Temperance were walking toward the interrogation room together when Harding turned to see the look of raw determination on his partner's face. He could see that she was focused, hard, ready for action, but he couldn't help but wonder how much of this confidence was coming from the other case they were working on. He had called on their way over, and learned that his guys had picked up the suspect at his home along with some evidence that could possibly link him to the crime scenes, and they were searching for more. Though he could practically feel the confidence in the air, he had to stop and make sure she was ready for this, knowing that the man behind that door was not likely to be an easy candidate to keep their cool in front of, he turned without warning, and she nearly smashed into him, she was so concentrated on getting to that door. "Agent Harding?" She said, her voice strong and confident, not nearly as vulnerable as it was the first time they had entered the interrogation room together. She was holding herself together very well, and though just an hour earlier in the cemetery, she looked like she was about to break into a million pieces before him, she was very put together right now. "What is it?" She asked impatiently.
"I was just checking to make sure that you're ready." He said, raising his eyebrows when she gave him an indignant glare. "Don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about."
"I can handle this, Agent Harding. I am not a complete social reject, Harding." She said, being sure to give him a pointed look, when his stare into her eyes became a bit too long for her comfort.
"I'm not asking because I don't think you can do this, Doc. I'm just making sure that you know that I'm ready." He said, lifting the corner of his lip in a charming smile that almost got her to respond in kind.
"Do you think he's the guy?" She asked, straightening her posture, she crossed her arms over his chest.
"That… is why we're here…to find the truth."
"That's right." She said, nodding definitively. "The truth." She paused, turning toward the door. "And by the way..." She said as she grabbed the doorknob and turned it. "Stop calling me Doc."
"Sorry about that, Doc." He said, letting out a nervous laugh as he pushed the door, and the two of them entered the interrogation room together.
Temperance Brennan had turned into a completely different person when she stepped into that interrogation room, a claim that she would vehemently deny if the subject had ever come up. The first interrogation with the janitor had been emotional at best, she had lost her cool, and came back into it with style and grace. The interrogation of the boy's father had gone smoothly, she kept quiet and distinguished, and let Harding do all of the talking. But here, now, with the bus driver staring creepily across the table at them, she did not falter for one moment.
Harding listened to her questions carefully, the inability to get a word in edgewise was remarkable as she stood stiffly and angrily, marking each answer that the man gave on a sheet of paper as she worked through the case in her mind, seemingly putting the pieces together in her head as the man spoke.
He denied it, of course, claiming that he had not come to work those days, though the records had shown that he had showed up each of the three mornings of the three victims to pick up the bus he would be driving that day. He claimed he saw nothing out of the ordinary, claimed that he must have been mistaken about the days, simply because he worked all three jobs around the same time, and he alternated with another bus driver frequently. Temperance showed no mercy for the man, and there was one point where Harding was sure that if the man said one wrong thing, she would pounce across the table and beat him to a bloody pulp.
Then he said it, he said the key words that almost made Harding shout out in a celebratory yelp, knowing that they had found their guy, which the evidence was pointing toward. They had found the man who had murdered those children, he just needed confirmation from the lab, and the longer they talked with him, the more he incriminated himself, and he was smarmy, and not prepared, and he never once asked for a lawyer, claiming that he didn't need one, because he did nothing wrong. And then he slipped up.
"Kind of tickles your funny bone, doesn't it?" The man sneered, his question a simple answer to the question of the coincidental nature of the crimes. "To think that this mistake could be made." He said, grinning at the two of them, oblivious to the slip up he had made, his yellow teeth showing as he smiled almost as if he were actually in pain.
Temperance noticed immediately that Harding was on the scent of something. As soon as the man had said that statement, he sat up in his chair and his eyes turned from brown to nearly black. He had been giving her the floor for the most part, letting her vent her anger and frustration over the case toward this suspect who appeared to believe he was smarter than the people who were hunting him. She hadn't caught the phrase, the meaning behind it, but Harding did, he knew.
"Do you think this is a joke, Mr. Falcone?" He asked, standing up angrily. "Do you think this is something that can be laughed about?" He asked. He grabbed the file from in front of Temperance and flung the three pictures out of the folder in front of the killer. He didn't even flinch. "These were someone's children!" He exclaimed. "These were three innocent children who trusted you! Trusted you to take care of them, to make sure they got to school alright, and you sit here with your goddamned grin, and your cold, emotionless eyes, and you tell us that you find something funny?"
"Not funny… humorous…" He said, letting out a cackling laugh that made Harding want to strangle the man.
"So you think that it was funny to kidnap those children? You think it was funny to strangle them, mutilate their bodies? You think it's funny that their parents went home every night hoping, wishing, and praying that their child would come home safe and sound? You think that's funny? You think that's funny?!" Harding exclaimed angrily, his face turning red, the vein in his forehead throbbing as he screamed angrily at the man before him, his temper flaring full force, and after a moment, as he stare furiously into the uncaring, soulless eyes of the man across from them, he felt a cool hand on his, and he didn't have to turn to see why she was doing it, she whispered his name softly and he already knew. The cool touch of Temperance's hand was enough to calm him immediately; her support in his anger was enough to recharge him completely as he stared into the suspect's eyes.
"Doctor Brennan… you're a mother, right?" The suspect sneered.
"That is irrelevant, Mr. Falcone." Harding snapped.
"You look like you've given birth, Doctor Brennan…" he said, his creepy yellow tinted smile in her direction as he moved his focus from Harding. "You look… motherly… is it a little girl, a little boy?"
"Hey… focus here." Harding said, snapping his fingers in front of the man, who continued to stare at Temperance's unwavering stare, and sneered at her.
Suddenly, Temperance stood up, and Harding straightened his posture, feeling the anger coming from his partner's side of the table, he could sense that this was not going to be anything less than explosive. He sat down and pushed his chair back, preparing himself for the ride.
"It doesn't matter whether I have a child or not, Mr. Falcone." She said with a monotone voice that sent chills down Harding's spine. "It doesn't matter what is going on in my life… with my family, because I am a human being." She stated angrily. "I have a beating heart, and a brain in my head that helps me to understand right from wrong. I love my child, Mr. Falcone. I love that child with every fiber of my being, and looking into your face makes me want to kill you, it makes me want to just wrap my fingers around your neck and choke the life out of you just like you choked the life out of those children. You're already linked in the crime, Mr. Falcone. You have no alibi; you've been lying to us since we stepped into this room. You have absolutely nothing… nothing, do you understand that? I have science on my side, Mr. Falcone. I have justice, and the truth… and the evidence… the evidence doesn't lie, Mr. Falcone, the evidence never… ever lies. So I suggest that you think really long, and really hard about what you say to us from now on, because I can guarantee you, that Agent Harding here… he'll pause for a few seconds if I jump across this table to strangle the life out of you."
"You can't threaten me." He sneered angrily at Temperance, who replied with a sneer of her own.
"I'm not making a threat, Mr. Falcone. I'm making a promise." She snapped, the angry stare interrupted by the sound of Harding's phone. She turned her head toward him, sitting down, she continued to glare at the suspect.
"Harding." He said into the phone, nodding, he tried not to smile as he thanked the person on the other line.
"You know what, Mr. Falcone… it looks like we're not going to need a full confession after all…"
"What did they find?" Temperance whispered, watching Harding shake his head and sneer at the man across from him.
"He had a stash of kid's shoes in a loose floorboard… three pairs belong to our victims… there's DNA evidence on the shoes… his, and the kid's." He said, watching Temperance's eyes ignite for a moment before she turned her attention back to the suspect. She thought twice before saying anything more and glanced to Harding.
"Good, because if I had to look at this piece of slime any longer, I was going to lose my lunch." She said as she stood up to leave the room, she swung open the door and stalked out of the interrogation room, disappearing into the hallway.
She entered the observation room quickly, taking several deep breaths; she tried to find her concentration as she attempted to erase the vision of the eyes of their suspect from her mind. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, pacing the room like a wild tiger, she heard the door to the observation room open and latch closed as she continued to try to find her strength. She knew who was standing there, anyone else would have left the room as soon as they saw the state she had been, well, almost anyone else would have. She looked up into his eyes and let out the deep breath that she had just taken. "That was…"
"Exhilarating?" He asked a bright grin on his face as he shook his head. "My God, Temperance, you were amazing in there!" He said, watching the darkness in her eyes lighten just a bit, though she was clearly shaken by the entire ordeal. "Are you okay?"
"I… I think I am…"
"We got our guy, Temperance… we got our guy… and wow…just…. You did a fantastic job!" He said with a smile that he just couldn't get rid of.
"Are you surprised?"
"No… no, I knew you had it in you, but wow… you really pack a punch." He said, breathing heavily as they looked through the window and watched a couple of the officers handcuff the suspect and lead him from the room. "So…" He said, glancing to Temperance, who was watching the door in the interrogation room close with a slightly satisfied smile on her face, her eyes moved to Harding.
"So?" She said, her tone almost humored, she watched him send a charming smile in her direction.
"Do you want to celebrate?" He asked, a hopeful look in his eyes as she shook her head, her eyes flashing to the floor before resting on his tie for a moment.
"I probably shouldn't." She said, trying to remain composed in the wake of the interrogation. She was still trembling from the whole ordeal, and wasn't exactly sure how to react.
"You probably shouldn't? Come on, Doc… we'll go out for some drinks… toast good conquering evil, and you can be home before Nightline…"
"I don't know what that means." She said, shaking her head with a slight smile appearing on her lips, she looked at him curiously.
"It doesn't matter what it means… we caught the bad guy… I owe you a drink…"
"You don't owe me a drink."
"Fine then, you owe me a drink." He said, shrugging his shoulders. "Come on, Doc…" He whispered.
"I have… I… Lola is with Ant, and I should… I should probably get home to her…" Temperance mumbled to herself as she weighed her options, the anxiety of what this would mean to her starting to creep up into her heart, she was thinking of her daughter, right?
"Come on, Temperance… just one drink… you can call Antonia on the way, we'll go out for one drink to celebrate, and you can go if you want… what do you say?" He asked, tipping his head. "Please?"
She stared into his eyes for a moment, the innocence that resided there, and she couldn't help but feel a warm, friendly feeling from her friend, her coworker, her… partner. He was proving to her that she could trust him, and all he was asking for was one drink, one drink to celebrate the camaraderie of partners. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, giving him a slight cringe as she gave in. "Fine… fine, I'll go with you… but… only one drink, and I have to call Lola before I go." She said, watching Harding nod his head.
"Naturally… just let me run over to my office and get my things, and we'll be off." He said, smiling brightly as he disappeared out the door.
Temperance stood for a moment, watching the closing door, her hand moving to the St. Christopher medal around her neck, she pressed the pendant between her fingers and sighed, feeling a cool chill run through her body as her eyes passed to the interrogation room. She swallowed hard as she thought about celebrating with someone other than Booth, toasting a case with someone other than him. She felt the lump growing in her throat, and her hand clenched the medal tightly as she took a deep, cleansing breath, and stepped out of the observation room in search of Agent Harding.
"Wow, look at this place," Harding commented as they stepped into the Founding Father's pub, his eyes scanning the dimly lit room. "Very nice," he said, listening as the constant chatter of the other patrons mingled with the clanking of glasses and muted music. He nodded towards a couple of empty barstools. "Should we just sit at the bar, or would you rather get a table?" He raised his eyebrows at her, watching her eyes scan the room as well, a slight sense of melancholy in her movements. He nudged her slightly with his arm, pulling her attention toward him, she gave him a playful glare that he narrowed his eyes at with a knowing glare.
"The bar is fine," Temperance replied with a slight nod.
"After you," Harding said, motioning for her to walk ahead of him.
They slid onto their barstools and Harding motioned for the bartender to tend to them.
"I know I said you owe me, but this one is on me. What are you having?" Harding glanced at Temperance, waiting for her reply.
She smiled slightly. "I'll have a beer."
Harding nodded and turned his attention back to the bartender who was patiently waiting. "Beer for the pretty lady, and I'll have a martini... straight up. Shaken, not stirred. And make it dirty."
"A martini?" Temperance laughed as the bartender began to make their drinks.
"Yes," Harding replied. "What's wrong with that?" He raised an eyebrow at her, and watched her laughter, trying to pretend to be offended by her reaction.
Temperance shrugged, pressing her lips together to suppress another giggle. "Kind of girlie, isn't it?'
"Excuse me? Girlie?" Harding's jaw dropped. "James Bond drinks martinis, Doc. Martinis can be very manly."
The giggle in Temperance's chest finally broke the surface. "Booth used to say... 'if it has a straw or an umbrella, it's a girlie drink... if it comes in a glass with a stem, it's a girlie drink... if it tastes like fruit, it's a girlie drink'."
"Yeah, that sounds like him," Harding agreed with a nod.
The smile slid from Temperance's face at the memory of her friend, her partner. Her eyes left Harding's and focused on the empty space of bar in front of her and a short silence fell between them until a cold mug of beer entered her line of vision. She took a quick breath and mentally shook the memories away as she wrapped her hand around the icy mug.
"Thank you for the drink," she said softly, her eyes once again connecting with her new partner.
"My pleasure, Doc. You can get the next round," Harding teased with a wink in an effort to lighten the mood.
"You know," Temperance began, "most men don't usually let the woman buy the drinks. Boo-" she stopped herself from saying his name again. "It's just very uncommon to me."
"Hey, it's a new age, Doc. Times have changed. I embrace that," he smiled jovially. "Does that make me a rude person?"