Disclaimer: I only own the characters not normally seen on the show…
Previously: A night out to dance has been disrupted by the discovery of another body by the police, breaking up a B&B moment, of course…
(--)
" Hello Dr. Brennan," Agent Wilbur said as Brennan, Booth, and Hawthorne walked up to the crime scene. He was standing beside an area of the beach that was taped off, splashing 'Police Line: Do Not Cross' around the dark in bright yellow.
"Let's not try to act so cheery with another body lying in the sand, please," Hawthorne reprimanded, giving Agent Wilbur a look of disdain.
"Have you inspected the area for footprints?" Booth asked. When Wilbur frowned at him in confusion, Booth continued, "It's a beach, sand often causes footprints."
"Oh, yeah…Charlie, Michaels canvas the area for footprints!" Wilbur yelled to two men standing off on the side. They took out their flashlights and began scanning the sand beneath their feet.
"I hope you or your men haven't touched the body," Brennan said as Booth pushed the tape up so she could move under and followed her.
"We know how to handle a crime scene, Dr. Brennan."
"Sure," Brennan replied, "Just as long as you didn't handle the body, you and I can maintain our friendly relationship." She smiled sarcastically. Booth grinned again before walking over to a women being comforted by two police officers. He pulled out his notepad and pen.
"Ma'am," Booth said, "I'm Special Agent Booth with the FBI; I'm going to ask you a few questions, okay?" The woman nodded, "Did you see the person who did this?"
"It was dark, I only saw a shadow. I came out here to walk my dog and I saw a man standing over something. I didn't really think about it. Then Pepper started barking, the guy got scared, I guess and ran off. Pepper dragged me over here. I called the police as soon as I saw it," the woman explained.
"Do you know the girl?" Booth asked, writing everything down on his notepad. "No, I've never seen her before."
"Thank you for your help, Ms. …?"
"Muldoon," the woman finished.
"Thank you Ms. Muldoon. An officer will drive you home now," Booth closed the notepad and walked back to Brennan who was kneeling in the dirt taking pictures. Booth nodded to one of the cops to take Ms. Muldoon home. "Find anything Bones?"
"It's definitely the same guy," Brennan said looking up at him, "The throat was cut from right to left, just like the other three."
"He must be getting comfortable. This one's only a few feet away from residential housing. The others were farther away."
"He's getting cocky. That's good isn't it? That means he might mess up?"
"Hopefully, Bones, hopefully."
"We can have the body transported back to the morgue for you Dr. Brennan," Agent Orville said.
"Yes, thank you," Brennan replied standing and brushing off her knees.
"Bones…I think that was the waitress," Booth said suddenly.
"What? What waitress?"
"At the restaurant."
"The Hotel restaurant?"
"Yeah, look, she's wearing a badge. Jenny, that was her name," Booth pointed to the tiny gold-painted plate on her black vest.
"Agent Orville," Brenna turned to him, "I need to move this body now."
Booth was already on the phone, "Hello, yes, my name is Special Agent Booth, I was wondering if you had a woman named Jenny on your restaurant staff? You do, okay, could you give me her last name and address? Jenny Wickholm, 23 Chestnut Avenue; thank you."
"Did you find her?" Brennan asked.
"Jenny Wickholm, they said she was 19, still lives with her parents, 23 Chestnut Ave; Hawthorne could you go down there and pick up the parents to make an id?"
"Sure," Hawthorne headed back to the car.
"Dr. Brennan, Agent Orville, we found something!" Agent Michaels said running over to them, "It's a partial footprint."
"Congruent with someone running," Brennan said as she, Booth, Orville and Wilbur followed Michaels. Agent Charles was standing beside the heel of an indent in the sand. His flashlight was pointed at the mark. Brennan kneeled down and inspected it. She traced the outline with her finger.
"There are no indentations which would give us a style. He was wearing a flat-soled shoe," she said, she looked up, "Agent Wilbur, give me your right shoe, please."
Agent Wilbur looked nervous, "Excuse me?"
"I said give me your right shoe, please," Brennan repeated, looking up, and extending her hand.
"Just give her the damn shoe," Orville said, "I don't know why, you can't get much from half a footprint."
Brennan took Wilbur's shoe and placed it inside the footprint. She moved her head from side to side, inspecting and examining as she did so. She pulled the shoe back and dug the bottom half of it into the sand beside the print, creating another indentation.
"It's a size eleven, dress shoe," Brennan reported getting to her feet and handing Wilbur back his shoe, "Make a note of that. Actually, Agent Orville, you can get a lot from half a footprint, if you know how to look. C'mon Booth, we need to get back to the lab."
"Coming Mom," Booth said sarcastically, offering a grin and eyebrow raise to Orville and Wilbur before walking away.
"I don't like this," Wilbur said softly to his partner.
"Relax, it's one more body; one more thing to lead 'em to the guy," Orville replied, "She'll catch him, don't worry."
"What if she doesn't?"
"Then we will," Orville said reassuringly, "Everything's going to work out in the end."
"I hope you're right."
"I am. Dr. Brennan's the best at what she does, after all," Orville said with a smile as he walked off.
(--)
"Bones it's almost three and I can't see straight anymore," Booth said, stifling a yawn as he leaned back in the chair, reading over the report from Orville and Wilbur. Brennan looked up from Jenny's body and smiled lightly. Booth looked so tired.
"You should go back to the hotel and get some rest," Brennan suggested.
"And leave you here all by your lonesome, I wouldn't want to do that," Booth replied getting up and walking over to her. Brennan looked up at him, turning slightly away from the body.
"I'm serious, you look tired. Besides, I like being alone when I work; it helps me concentrate," Brennan answered.
"Well, if you insist…"
"I do; it won't help the investigation any if neither of us slept the entire night. Go back; get a couple of hours and then you'll be all ready for tomorrow when I can't keep my eyes open."
"Bones, sometimes you surprise me. I didn't know you cared so much," Booth said dramatically placing his hand over his heart.
"Get out of here!" Brennan said smacking him with the back her hand.
"Okay, okay," Booth replied throwing his hands up in surrender, "I'll leave, but don't stay too late--or early--either one--if I wake up and don't find you, I'll be very upset with you Temperance," Booth joked. Brennan glared at him and he shut his mouth.
"Get out before I throw you out," Brennan warned.
"Is that a threat Bones?"
"That depends."
"On what?"
"On whether you leave now or not."
"Right. I'll see ya later, Bones," Booth said, patting her shoulder and walking toward the door, when he reached it he turned on his heel, "If you start talking to her, it's probably time to come home."
Brennan rolled her eyes and smiled. Booth gave her a grin and walked out. Brennan turned back to the body. She shook her head. Booth was so…she couldn't really say what he was….a pain in the ass…yes…endearing…yes…how did you take both of those and make one description of someone?
She shook her head again. There was no point in trying to understand Booth right now; he was way to complex for three in the morning. Besides, she hated psychology. She sighed. Secretly, she hadn't wanted Booth to leave her alone in the morgue--a place that was not very familiar to her--with several faceless bodies. But she knew she shouldn't be selfish--Booth had looked like he might have fallen asleep at any moment if she hadn't sent him back.
She looked down at the body of the waitress. Her parents had been in a few hours before to identify her. Her mother cried and then threw up. Her father had remained stoic but his face was sad. Brennan had felt bad for them. She had almost started crying again, but Booth had kept a comforting hand on the small of her back that calmed her.
She sighed for the third time and rubbed her eyes. She was getting a headache and her eyes ached for sleep. She saw the chair that Booth had vacated out of the corner of her eye. Maybe a few minutes…that won't hurt, Brennan thought as she put down her tools and walked over to the chair.
She sat down--it was still warm from the heat of Booth's body. Brennan smiled--it was calming. It figured, even when Booth wasn't actually there he could still calm her. She leaned back and closed her eyes. She smiled again, feeling warmth envelope her. Her mind wandered to the previous occupant of the chair and she grinned.
Booth. His face floated in her mind. He was giving her his best charm smile and she felt her knees start to melt. It was good thing she was sitting down because she wouldn't have been able to stand. It amazed her how a simple vision of Booth affected her so much. She attributed it to lack of sleep.
Sleep, which was slowly overcoming her; she felt her eyelids get heavy and her breathing slow to a gentle rhythm. She sighed again. This felt nice…
(--)
A chill caused her skin to prickle. She opened her eyes to find herself still in the morgue. She looked at the clock on the wall. She'd been asleep for an hour. So much for a few minutes, she thought miserably, rising from the chair. It was still dark out but there was a faint pinkness peaking over the visible ocean water.
She stretched her arms above her head. Booth would be waking up soon and she knew that if she wasn't in bed by that time, he'd have fit. She grabbed her coat. She'd be back in a few hours anyway so she didn't really clean up her things or take her bag. She switched the light off and closed the door.
As she walked down the hallway she felt the prickling again. She sensed that someone was nearby but she couldn't see very well in the dark hallway. She neared the door; she could see the light from the street lamps reflecting on floor of the lobby. She quickened her pace as she got closer. Without warning, a shadow stepped into her path and slammed something into her face.
Brennan felt her eyes start to water as she hit the ground. Her head was swimming painfully as she tried to get up. The figure grabbed at the collar of her shirt and pulled her into a sitting position. She blinked back the tears but she still couldn't make out any facial features.
Despite her head throbbing, Brennan still had use of her legs, so she kicked out violently. Her heel collided with his knee and he hit the ground with a thud. She used the momentary incapacity to crawl toward the exit feverishly. She was almost at the desk when her ankle was caught by the assailant and she was dragged back a few feet.
He took hold of her wrist and swung her into the wall. She tensed in pain but the man didn't let her go. He held her wrist and threw his weight down on her knees, pinning her legs to the floor. She tried to use her free hand to claw at his face but he caught it and held it with her other one. It was at this point she realized he was wearing a mask. He leaned toward her, close enough to whisper into her ear.
"I know who you are, Dr. Brennan; you better stop sniffing around or something unfortunate might happen to one of your friends," he said. Brennan frowned--the voice seemed somehow familiar.
The man let her wrists go as he stood up. With one fluid movement he landed a swift kick to her side. Brennan felt the pain echo throughout her body. She yelled out as the door closed and the man disappeared. Brennan's eyes were watering again as she lay on her side against the wall of the hallway.
She cried quietly, not moving. Her ribs hurt desperately. She wasn't sure if they were broken or not--all she knew was: they hurt like nothing else. Her head was still hurting too. After a moment she moved her hand toward her pocket. Slowly, she procured her cell phone. Shakily, she opened it and pressed 3--Booth's speed dial. She felt blackness begin to wash over her. There was a cold feeling in her toes. She was going to pass out. She could feel it coming but she fought it, she needed to get through to Booth.
After almost an eternity of rings, and Brennan fearing he wouldn't hear the phone, Booth picked up.
"Bones, you're supposed to be in bed already," he said sleepily.
"Booth," she choked out.
"Bones?" his voice was no longer joking but alert and afraid.
"The morgue, hurry…" she cried softly.
"I'll be there in two minutes," he replied, "hold on."
"Please," she felt her voice going fainter.
"Bones, Bones, stay with me. C'mon, I'm getting into the car now, c'mon, Bones…"
"Hurry…"
"Bones!"
The light from the streetlamps was gone. She couldn't see her phone anymore. She felt the pain in her head growing less and less by the second. She could still hear Booth's voice over the phone that she'd dropped but she could no longer understand the words that he said. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Her eyes felt heavy again. Don't give up, she forced herself to think. Oh, but giving up felt so good right now. She let her eyes slide closed as the darkness took over and the world disappeared.
(--)
" Hawthorne! It's Booth, Brennan's hurt. I don't know what's wrong, she called me from the morgue; she said to come over quickly, I lost her a couple of seconds ago. Can you call the EMTs and the cops? Get an ambulance over there as soon as possible!" Booth hung up and threw his phone into the seat next to him. He was lucky there were no other cars on the road; otherwise he would've probably killed someone by now.
He had the siren and light going, even though he didn't need it. He tried to concentrate on driving but all he could think about was getting to Bones as quickly as possible. When a streetlight suddenly appeared out of nowhere making him serve, Booth tried to calm himself, Relax; pay attention to the road, you'll be no use to Bones if you're dead too. His mind jumped, No, she's not dead. Don't think that Seeley. She's still alive and she needs your help.
He took deep breaths and watched the road. As he approached the morgue he saw ambulances and police cars approaching for the other direction. All right Hawthorne, he thought, thankful that the man was so well connected in the town. Booth leapt out of the SUV and dashed across the parking lot. He nearly tore the door off its hinges trying to get in.
He flicked the lights on; as his eyes adjusted he saw the most horrifying thing. Brennan was slumped over against the wall. Booth ran to her side. His mind roared again, fearing that he'd arrived too late and she was dead. He calmed down considerably when he felt her pulse was strong. She was only passed out.
She had a painful looking cut on her forehead, along with a bruise that was already turning black and blue. He let his fingers slide over the bruise and Brennan flinched beneath him. His fingers fell to her cheek. His thumb ran over her jaw as he attempted to wake her.
"Bones," he said softly, "Bones, c'mon, wake up; Bones, it's me, it's Booth. C'mon kid, open your eyes."
"Booth?" Brennan asked faintly, her hand moving to his.
"Yours truly," Booth said, smiling when Brennan's eyes fluttered open.
"That was fast," Brennan croaked lightly.
"That's why they don't like giving me a license," Booth joked, helping Brennan sit up and leaning her back against the wall.
"Agent Booth!" Hawthorne said rushing into the room, followed by about fifteen police officers and a couple of EMTs.
"Dr. Brennan," one the EMTs said, kneeling down next to her.
"I'm fine," Brennan said coolly.
"All the same Dr. we need to check you out," the young man said.
"Ugh…if you must," Brennan replied letting herself be checked out by the young EMT.
"Bones, what the hell happened to you?" Booth asked.
"I don't know. I took a nap after you left, when I woke up I decided to go back to the hotel; I was leaving when someone hit me," Brennan explained.
"I hope you kicked the shit out of him," Booth said.
"I definitely kicked him," Brennan answered. Booth grinned.
"Do you remember anything else?" Hawthorne inquired, taking notes.
"Yeah, he told me to back off on the case. He said if I didn't 'something unfortunate' would happen to one of my friends. He knew my name," Brennan said. Booth glanced at Hawthorne, who caught his eye, they shared a worried look. Booth put his arm around Brennan's shoulders and pulled her closer to him.
"Did you see what he looked like?" Hawthorne asked.
"No, he was wearing a mask, and my eyes were watering so it was blurry anyway," Brennan replied.
"Anything else, anything specific about him? Height, weight?"
"He was tall. Taller than me, maybe about 6'1", 6'2". Maybe, like, 220, 230 pounds," Brennan said frowning, trying to remember, "and I think I knew him. His voice sounded familiar."
"Familiar? How?"
"He--I don't know. It was just familiar," Brennan answered, "Sorry; I know I'm not helping."
"No, Bones," Booth assured her, "this is the first real description of the killer we've had. This could be a break."
"Well, then I'm glad I wasn't paying attention and got attacked," Brennan said with a smile. She looked like she was joking but there something in her eyes that made Booth a little more worried. It was because she was worried.
"Dr. Brennan," the EMT said, "I would suggest we take you to the hospital for further observation."
"No! No hospitals," Brennan said forcefully.
"I had a feeling you'd say that," the young man said with a grin, "so, I am instead advising you to go back to your hotel and get some rest. Your head wound was bad but it's only a bruise. And you've bruised a couple ribs but other than that, you're fighting fit."
"Okay, I don't know what that means."
"Never mind, Bones," Booth said, "C'mon let's get you back to bed." He got to his feet and pulled her up with him. The sudden movement caused her head spin again. Booth pulled her into his shoulder and supported her weight against him.
He led her out to the SUV and helped into the passenger seat. When she was safely in, he closed the door and turned to Hawthorne.
"I want a complete work up of that entire building; do you think you can have that done as soon as possible?" Booth asked.
"Sure thing. I'll have my guys work the rest of the morning, you just take care of Dr. Brennan," Hawthorne assured him.
"Thanks," Booth said extending his hand.
Hawthorne shook it and smiled. "No problem." He waved to Brennan in the front seat as Booth climbed in beside her and started the engine. They drove away leaving Hawthorne standing in the parking lot.
"All right boys, you heard Agent Booth. I want a full work-up of this morgue. Top to bottom! We'll be burning the midnight oil on this one!" Hawthorne announced.
"Boss, it's already four," one young officer said.
"Shut up," Hawthorne snapped, "Get to work!"
(--)
TBC…in Chapter 9: "I'm Florence Nightingale Here…"
A/N: This is only the second chapter I'm adding today, I still have one more that I've finished. Please enjoy the presents I give you for making you wait so long…