A/N: Thank you for all the reviews! I had an amazing number - more than I've ever gotten for a single chapter before. So thank to every one who reviewed, and consider me sharing my chocolate covered Booth with you.
Chapter 7
Booth came by at just after seven, carrying a bottle of wine and a bag of groceries. The lab was empty, except for Brennan; Zack and Hodgins had left an hour ago, and Angela had just gone after spending the last thirty minutes procrastinating over what to wear on a date she had with her new beau. Brennan looked up as he entered, slightly on edge as the last time she had been alone in the lab someone had entered and taken evidence. What had been taken hadn't been crucial – obviously the person who did it hadn't known exactly what they were looking for, but that just made Brennan think that they were likely to make a return visit.
He came straight to her as she sat at her computer, imputing details about the thirteen women whose skeletonized remains had been uncovered. No more, thankfully, had been found; although the soco's had searched using sophisticated geo physics equipment and the woman who had led the search seemed to have a good nose for those sorts of things.
She had faxed what information she had discovered off to Booth's office some time ago, and was now about to begin work on identifying the remains and seeing that they were returned at long last to any relatives that may still be missing them. Booth's arrival meant that he had more than likely finished what he needed to do for the day, and a few mysteries may have been solved.
He sat down next to her at her desk, putting the wine on the table and the bag on the floor. "Any intruders that you've manhandled so far?" He asked in his velvety tones. Brennan found herself reminiscing back to the conversation she had had with Angela earlier, and the confession she had made.
"You're the only intruder I might possibly be maiming tonight," she answered, trying not to look up from her computer.
"I might just look forward to that!" He said, jokingly. She wondered if he was flirting with her. "We have some results." He announced, placing a finger under her chin and making her look up at him. She felt her body react to just a slight touch and surprised herself by not moving away from it. Feeling her heart jump in her chest she wondered if he understood the look she knew was showing in her eyes and felt rather scared at where the evening might end. Scared, but not in a bad way.
"What are they?" She half whispered as he removed his finger.
"William McKenzie served two years in prison at the age of eighteen for attempted murder on a prostitute. He was released in 1930. In 1951, Dean came to live with him in Moreton Street as his mother was unable to cope with him, so her Uncle Willy took him in. They then lived on and off at Moreton Street until 1976 when Uncle Willy died. Dean stayed there until 1981 when the house was officially condemned, and moved in with his cousin, Davey. How is this fitting with your timelines?" He explained, looking rather like the cat that had gotten the cream.
"The first murder I would put in 1926, which would make William 16 when it was committed. There were four more between 1931 and 1945. The three women that were found today died between 1950 and 1955, and then there was a break until 1966. The next five bodies died in a period of the next twenty years, which takes us up to 1986, after the house was emptied. This is a major case, isn't it?" She felt better being able to talk facts with him, like she was more in control.
"It's going to be huge, especially when the media gets hold of it. One thing that you should know is that William McKenzie was arrested on several occasions in relation to reports of assaults on women in and out of the area. One three occasions in 1969, 1971 and 1974 Dean was also taken into questioning with regard to missing women, an assault and a body that was discovered in Ecclesview, ten miles away. How on earth all of these were missed over the years I do not know, but I would imagine that there will be some serious questions asked. We need to get identities for each of these victims, and tomorrow we'll be heading off to Craigon Avenue again and that greenhouse," he grinned. "Spending more time together, Bones."
She rolled her eyes. "What's happening there now – shouldn't we be starting already?"
Booth shook his head. "No. Davey has been taken into custody, so that keeps him out of the equation for a while at least," he eyed her seriously, pausing for a few seconds. "I have a bag of well chosen groceries and a bottle of excellent wine. I'm taking you back to my place."
She looked at him like he'd just suggested that she should run into the street naked. "I have to carry on with these. And my bog man has received no attention at all these past few days…" She was stopped by the look of amusement on his face.
"Temperance, you need to eat, and to have a rest. If after you have eaten you still want to come back and work I will bring you here and help you in what ever way I can. This case is going to be a long one, but it's not urgent. Both people we suspect of murder are dead so they're not going to be hurting anyone else," his tone was gentle. She looked at the bottle of wine on the table and noticed he'd bought the same one they had drank at her house two nights ago. In the bag she could see fresh vegetables and what looked to be duck, one of her favourites. She gave a quick glance at the computer screen and then to where the body of the bog man had been stored, and felt a twinge of guilt.
"I promise you, Tempe, I will bring you back if you still feel the urge to work after you've sampled my cooking," he grinned wickedly and she felt her heart enlarge in her chest. Or it seemed to. She knew that what she was feeling was being caused by pheromones due to her physical, unconscious reaction to him. She debated in her head what to do, the conversation she had with Angela earlier playing back in her mind.
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Booth waited for her to make a decision, noticing the expressions on her face that showed the debate her mind was going through. He had decided, after having a long phone call with a detective in Ecclesview, that he had to finally make a move and attempt to woo her, otherwise he might spend the rest of his life simply watching her and becoming increasingly frustrated.
She looked him directly in the eye and he braced himself for her answer.
"You're right, this is going to be a long case, with a lot of all-nighters. Can you cook?" He exhaled releasing the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. For half a second he felt a little speechless. Bones had agreed to come back to his place with him. She hadn't put up an argument, or tried to insult him. Maybe Angela was right and she did feel a little more for him than friendship. He hoped so.
"I can actually cook quite well.,"he began to speak rather louder than he usual tone."And I think that after a night of diner food like yesterday, we have the right to eat something healthy and nutritious and tasty," with each adjective he took an item out of the bag and placed it heavily on her desk.
"Booth, are you nervous?" She asked him, brow furrowed.
"Yes, I am," he began to put the groceries back into the bag.
"Why? If you're worried about cooking then we could always eat out," she offered. Her hand touched his slightly and he felt a jolt of electricity whip through him.
"No, Bones, I can cook fine. I'm nervous about you coming back to my house," he admitted, realising that he was still speaking in a rather unnatural manner.
"We could go back to mine if it's untidy…" she managed to look endearing even when she was puzzled. A warm feeling poured over him, he recognised it and gave a silent, inward groan.
"No, I'm not nervous about cooking or my place being a mess as it isn't," he took a deep breath and wondered if to give her a clue, let her know that he felt the same way as he had when he gone on his very first date with a girl called Susie when he was fifteen. He decided not to tell her, it would be more fun, seeing her work it out for herself.
"Well, what are you nervous about?" She asked, standing up after shutting down her computer. Most of the evidence had been locked securely away already, so she just needed to get her things together.
He smiled, feeling a little calmer. "Nothing, Bones."
They left the Jeffersonian, Booth double checking that everything had been locked away safely. It was a quiet night, rather like the quiet before a storm as he knew that tomorrow fuel would be given to the media's fire as all of what had happened at Moreton Street became known. Somehow they had managed to keep what had been discovered out of the headlines, but Booth knew that all of this would change shortly.
They headed to his car, and he opened the door for the doctor, surprising her with his behaviour.
"You don't usually do that!" She said as he let himself in, his hair now slightly dampened by the rain that had begun to fall.
"I'm not usually taking you back to mine for dinner," he said, concentrating on starting up the engine.
"Is this a date, Booth?" The question seemed to come from no where and it caught him by surprise.
"Do you want it to be a date, Bones? If you do, then it's a date," he answered, trying hard to sound nonchalant by pretending he was focusing all of his attention on his car and not even looking at her.
She as silent and he wondered if she thought he had duped her. Did she want it to be a date? Or was she more interested in having a working dinner and talking over the case and the possible identities of these women?
"Do you want it to be a date, Booth?" She asked. "If so, I should probably call you Seeley and you should call me Tempe; although you have been doing that already tonight," she said in her a rather emotionless voice. He wondered if he should take that as being that she wanted it to be a date. She hadn't said no.
"Yes, I would like this to be a date," he answered her flatly, knowing that dealing with this conversation as factually and scientifically as possible would make it easier. Although kissing her would probably have the same effect and would be less painful, possibly, if she didn't slap him first.
She looked at him, hard enough so that he had to turn to her and glance at her before putting his eyes back on the road in front of him. "If this was a normal first date would you have taken me back to your place?" She asked him.
He laughed. "Well, maybe after!" He felt a hand slap his arm lightly.
"Booth!" She reprimanded.
"I thought you were going to call me Seeley," he said, giving her his lopsided, lazy grin.
"If you switch into date mode and stop acting like an arrogant FBI suit then maybe I will," she said harshly. It made him smile.
"Maybe I don't have a date mode and I'm this way all the time," he argued back.
She shrugged. "Then maybe you have been very unsuccessful with women."
"Well, you've agreed to go on a date with me," he argued back. Would they actually manage to have a conversation tonight without bickering? Or were they destined to forever dance around each other like a pair of squabbling hens?
"But it isn't a normal date," she retorted.
"How is it not a normal date?"
"Because you didn't ask me, and I've not had a chance to get changed or do anything with my hair or talk to Angela about it. This isn't how dates are meant to happen," she said, sounding a little perturbed.
"Then do you want me to drive you back to the lab, get soaking wet again walking out of the car, and ask you if you would like to go on a date with me, then wait for you to phone Angela and then take you home so you could change and get ready?" He knew he sounded more frustrated than he actually was.
"No. I wouldn't do that anyway," she said a little quieter. His heart thumped at the tone she had in her voice.
"What happened when you've been on dates in the past?" He asked her, grateful for an easier conversation.
"I've usually gone out with men I've been working with…"
"Like me?" He interrupted.
She shook her head. "No, scientists usually. And, I don't know, Booth, it's different from how Angela does things. I know I'm not the best at things like this." He realised that she was just as nervous as he was.
"You've had boyfriends before," he stated rather than questioned. He had met one of them, unfortunately.
"They haven't been serious," she said a little sadly. "There was never the time for anything serious to develop."
"There's always time," he said, gently. "If it's with the right person then you make the time. Maybe you've just not met the right man yet."
He felt her look at him, wondering if she could read his thoughts and hoped she couldn't.
"Maybe. I never wanted a relationship with them, it was always just a convenience, a mutual thing," she admitted.
He stopped the car on his driveway, taking in what she had said. "Would this be just a convenience?" He asked her, blocking her way to the door as she got out of the car.
She looked at him, eyes full of something he could not define. "I don't know," she answered.
He unlocked the door and let her in.
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