4
It was late, they had been at the hospital for hours. Booth's entire arm was numb from the weight of his wife's body pressed up against him. His son slept peacefully, balanced on her chest. All they knew was that Angela was stable and she was asleep. There was no idea about when she would wake up or what had caused her manic episode. To make matters worse as the day had trickled on the entire lab had made it's way to the small waiting room, taking up chairs, forming a sizable group.
"Want some coffee?" Perotta stood over him, her long hair floating around her shoulders and her right hand extending a cup of steaming Joe out to him. She looked like an angelic waitress about to give him much needed fuel.
"Thank you. When did you get here?" He took the cup and took a sip, careful so as not to disturb his family.
" A little while ago. I am anxious to see what is so scary about this facial reconstruction that is sent her into a manic episode." And just like that the cattiness returned and Booth was once more annoyed.
" You know the reason they do not like you is because you say things like that." He said taking another sip.
" Yeah, Yeah, Color me surprised. They should not be so sensitive." She said taking the seat oh his other side, the one Cam had just recently vacated. She was sitting a few seats over whispering quietly to Lance Sweets, Booth and Brennan's FBI assigned shrink and the official profiler in their pocket.
" Booth, something smells good." Brennan's voice drew his attention from his surly partner and back to his waking wife. Things had been so much easier when the only woman in his life was Brennan. He missed the good old days.
" Perotta brought me some coffee, would you like some?" He asked as she carefully sat up, adjusting Michael so he would not do the same. As soon as her weight left his arm the tingles were there. The bloods rushing back through his sleeping limb felt like pins and needles and he clenched and unclenched his fist. Neither one noticing the look his offer evoked from Perotta.
" No, I need to stand up, maybe walk around." She remained in her seat through, under the weight of her slumbering son.
" Tell me about it." Perotta piped up, not so silently. This time Brennan was aware of the agent to Booth's left and she was not amused at all but her comments.
"What was that?" Brennan said, her tone was authoritative and direct.
" I assume that you should be getting that child home." Perotta said with icy sweetness. Brennan's eyes narrowed, her murderous gaze fixated on the pretty woman next to her husband. Booth and the baby being the only things stopping her from going off, she suddenly remembered why Booth was the only person she could work with from the FBI. The other agents were clearly not competent.
"His name is Michael." It was Booth who swept in, defending his wife, drawing surprise from her.
"Right, he's adorable. Is it really the wisest thing though , to have him around all of these sick people? Have a nice night Dr. Brennan." Perotta said, her gaze fixated on Booth, her hand dismissing Brennan with a wave.
" I will decide what is and is not safe for my son. If you have a problem with that, Agent Perotta, then you can take that up with someone who gives a damn." Brennan said shaking her head and rolling her eyes. Perotta had been thorn in her side for to long. The women had not seen eye to eye in almost two years. In fact the only thing they agreed on was how attractive Booth was, a topic that did not encourage a friendly atmosphere.
" Dr. Brennan?" Luckily a nurse pulled her attention away, stopping the argument that was surly brewing. She sighed in relief and re-positioned her son so that he would not be disturbed when she stood. Booth handed Perotta his cup and reached for the sleeping toddler. At least Brennan would always have the satisfaction of Booth choosing her over Perotta, as well as the amusing memory if the death glare the blonde woman shot her way.
"Yes? Is she awake?" Brennan was at the nurse's side in a heartbeat.
" She is asking for you, and you only. Come with me." The nurse said looking the disheveled woman up and down. It was hard to equate the person in front of her, with her favorite crime novelist, it was almost funny in some small way.
The corridor that led back to Angela's room was long and bathed in yellow light. All around her doctors rushed past and people tried to get her attention. It seemed like forever until she reached a little room at the end with the light on. Angela sat in the center of a bed waiting nervously, looking rapidly from the door to the window.
"Angela?" Brennan called, gaining her full attention.
"Brennan, I am so sorry." Her hands were still shaking, her movements still quick and nervous.
" You are safe, Angela. Can you tell me what happened?" Brennan took a seat on the bed looking at her friend with concern and fear.
" You can not tell anyone. They can not know." She made no sense, her words came out jumbled together.
"Who?" Brennan asked, trying to pin down her darting eyes.
"Cam, Booth, all of them. They will take me off the case, and if it is true, I need to know. I have to find out what happened." She looked to Brennan with tears in her eyes again.
"Angela, Calm down. Tell me what is wrong. What happened?"
" It's my father. My father is the body in the mud." Her resolve snapped and the tears fell down her cheeks. Brennan reached out and pulled her into a hug, not sure what to do, or how to respond. It was Angela who had once taught her the value of a friendly touch when words were too difficult. Ironic that she would be able to use to advice on the person who had dispensed it.