Chapter 29: Passing the Torch

It was nearly ten by the time they made it over to the lab and on the way, Bones managed to negotiate a one o'clock lunch out of him. Judging from the sympathetic looks the couple received as they journeyed to her office, booth would bet his next paycheck that news of the partner's split had preceded them. That was fine with him, in a way, because it meant that they could avoid at least some of the inevitably awkward conversations and a few well-aimed glares from him as they breezed through let people know that this was not the time to ask questions.

Fortunately, Bones was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, she missed the looks; sympathetic and otherwise. When they reached her office she sat down at her desk, gathering a stack of papers around her and acting for all the world as if she'd never been gone.

A furrow creased her brow as she searched her desk and when she didn't find the file she was looking for she got on the phone to Hodgins and asked for it, along with everything else that she'd sent to the lab from Hairston's hideaway. Her computer hummed to life and soon the rapid click of her typing filled the silence.

Taking that as a cue, Booth settled down on the couch with his own paperwork, grimacing at the prospect. Apart from the vehicle requisition forms, there was his incident report to file from the night of the explosion and one for the night of her rescue too. If he managed to finish those, he also had a stack of papers he'd grabbed out of his in-box at the FBI to wade through.

Hodgins popped in shortly after Booth started, bearing the box of original evidence from the Lily Hairston case. The two squints immediately started in on the techno-babble, making it fairly easy for Booth to tune them out and focus on his own work. The bug man, however, was only the first in the long line of squints and squinterns who paraded in and out of her office, making him wonder how she was getting anything done.

With half an ear, he listened as reports on the remains flooded in, along with soil sample results from each of the exhumed coffins. DNA results were still trickling in too and Bones and Angela spent an hour matching the last of the face and remains to their identities. Without even trying, his mind filtered through all of the info, looking for that crucial nugget that would link all of the mail room skeletons together.

"Hairston," the obvious answer came to him as the waited for lunch.

"Hmm?" she looked up from her glass of water, confused.

"The thing that links everyone together is Hairston," he explained.

"But he's not the killer," she pointed out.

"Doesn't matter," he shook his head, "Hairston saw something; something we didn't. Why go to the trouble of digging up those bones and send them otherwise? All we need to do is get him to tell us what attracted him to these specific cases and we've got our first lead."

"All of the original case files and evidence should be at the lab by the end of the day," she reached for his fires almost as soon as the waitress put them down, "Hodgins is hoping to find commonalities there as well."

"That's a lot to go through," he bit into his burger, "The Hairston angle will be quicker, trust me on this."

"I trust you," her smile was so pure he couldn't help but smile back, "I'll be sure to recommend that line of inquiry to Agent Perotta."

Booth tried hard not to let any emotions leak out onto his face at the inadvertent reminder that it wasn't his case to solve with her. It had been so easy to slide into their usual roles and it made him realize just how hard it was going to be not working with her.

For right now, though, their desired for food overcame everything else and the settled into a companionable silence. Around them the diner thrummed with mid-day activity that was so familiar to him it was soothing rather than irritating. No matter what the net six months brough, he decided as he eyed the "Pie of the Day" display, he would make time to do this with Bones as often as possible.

As they bickered lightly back and forth about her sharing his pie, he tried to remember the last time he'd needed to carve out time for her. Sure, back in the early days they'd go their separate ways after work, with the occasional after-case drink at Sid's. The drinks had become meals and the casual chats stretched into long conversations.

Eventually, Sid started kicking them out because they'd get in so late and talk so long. Takeout at her place over case filed had been the next step and had suited their purpose well until they'd finally found the Royal Diner. Oh sure, sometimes they'd go to the Founding Father's for a drink with the squints, or even back to his place if it was just the two of them, but at least one meal a day would be spent at their corner. The time that they spent apart continued to decrease so that when they were married about the only thing that changed in that respect was their sleeping arrangements.

"I need to get back to the lab," Bones laid her hand over his apologetically, bringing him back to the present.

"Sure, of course, Bones," he shoveled his last bite of pie in and dug for his wallet, frowning, "Got any cash on you? I only have a five."

"How is it," she smirked, "That once we were married you stopped always carrying enough money to pay for our meals?"

"I got me a Sugar Momma," he grinned, slipping an arm around her waist as they walked back to the Jeffersonian.

It was hard to tell if she ignored him because she understood what he'd said or didn't have a clue what he was talking about. Either way, she rolled her eyes and leaned into him, her arm snaking around his waist too. He was pleasantly surprised when she stayed that way as they walked into the building.

"If we are no longer bound by the constraints of a professional partnership," she smiled slyly at his unasked question, "then I see no reason to adhere to our former strictures in that regard."

"So does that mean…?" he waggled his eyebrows hopefully, flicking his eyes between her and her office.

"No," she shook her head, "sexual intercourse on the couch is still inadvisable due to the number of security cameras."

"A little louder next time, Bones," he hissed as the whole lab seemed to turn and stare at them, "pretty sure they didn't hear you over at the Egyptian exhibit."

"You were the one who insinuated the concept in the first place," she accused.

"Yes, insinuated," he emphasized, "not blurted out at the top of my lungs."

"I can assure you that my statement was not given in-"

"Okay, okay, you didn't yell," he rolled his eyes, then pointed up to the platform, "You've got company."

Perotta was there, sandwiched with Cam between all of the remains and obviously waiting for Bones.

"Knock 'em dead," he whispered with a quick kiss and a wink before heading to her office.

From the upper level he watched the three women interacting, needing to make sure they'd all play nice. He chuckled as he watched his wife walk up onto the platform and take control of the conversation, body language clear that she wasn't in the mood to fool around. Perotta looked a little defensive when Bones pointed out that she should question Hairston, but to her credit the agent bit her tongue and even offered to let Bones watch from the observation room; which was good because Bones looked like she was going to demand it anyway.

With one last appreciative ogling of Dr. Brennan in her lab coat, Booth turned his back on them, confident as he ever would be that the case was in good hands.