Thank you for all the reviews. Eldred was most happy.
The Buffy quote was "spank your inner moppet" from When She Was Bad, season 2, episode 1. It was said by Cordelia. I now need to get some sleep. Hopefully they'll be a load of reviews waiting for me in my inbox when I wake up...
Chapter 13 – Balancing
The rain was transforming from a full storm into a refreshing trickle, the air beginning to heat up without the humidity, leaving the atmosphere dry and pleasant. Everything looked green and lush after the storms, wilted plants now standing tall after being given a good drink and the sky slowly returning to its pure blue state.
The school stood silently alone on the corner of a long road, its style imposing against the generally modern housing. It was three stories tall; the windows old fashioned and slim, looking dark as they reflected the light. The playground was empty, lessons having already begun and the quiet yard emitted an eerie echo of missing children's laughter.
Booth led the way quickly into the school, finding the door unlocked and unattended. He was aware that anyone could have entered and caused havoc, and wondered how to mention this to Mrs Dunn without her sending him a look that could kill. Bones followed him, the silence staying between them that had been continued from the car. He pushed thoughts of her to the other side of his mind, knowing that he needed to be one hundred percent focused on what was happening in the school.
He knocked on the door of the principal's office, waiting patiently for it to be opened. Bones stood beside him, hands in her pockets, a serious expression adorning her features. He ignored the feelings that her presence provoked in him, trying not to look at her, and knocked again, a little harder, on the oak door.
"Are you looking for me?" A voice from behind them asked.
He turned around and saw the principal, wearing a black pant suit with a low buttoned white shirt and high heels that he was surprised that he hadn't heard walk up behind them.
"Mrs Dunn. I wanted to ask you about a boy who used to go here, Patrick Kearney. His remains were found yesterday, a short way from where Thomas Dyer's were found," Booth watched as her face didn't react to the news. It stayed frozen, not a ripple of emotion flickering across it.
"I have only been principal here for two years. I didn't know of a boy with that name. Of course, there are members of staff here who would remember – what did you say his name was?" She responded coldly.
"Patrick Kearney. You see, Mrs. Dunn, I find your manner very strange and unsympathetic. We appear to have a child killer on our hands, who is targeting children from your school. When this information is released there are going to be numerous parents worried and concerned, possibly wishing to remove their children from here. Especially if they knew just how easy it was to enter the building," Booth threatened.
"We were able to just walk in here. There was no one at the entrance and the door was unlocked. I wouldn't want my child to be in a place that was so lacking in security," Bones interjected. The words 'my child' got caught in Booth's ears.
"I remember seeing an interview with you on television, Dr Brennan, and I thought you didn't want children," the head teacher passed Bones a mystified look, then moved her cold gaze back to Booth.
"What I once said is irrelevant," he heard Bones' tone become aggravated. He didn't interrupt. He thought that she was probably the best one to get a reaction from the principal. "The point is that your school, of which you are in charge, is doing absolutely nothing to protect the safety of the children entrusted to your care. Aside from you lack of security you have persistently been unhelpful in this investigation. I doubt the parents would be too impressed with that. And your coldness toward the children in your care makes me wonder exactly why you are doing this job," she practically spat at the other woman.
Booth gave his sarcastic laugh and shrugged. "She's right. Parents are getting worried about this place. We've had twenty four calls already this morning about how we are protecting the children here. Some parents were requesting an armed guard on the doors. And you don't even have them locked," he shook his head, enjoying the look of annoyance that was brewing on the principal's face. She refused to reply. He left the topic. "We need to get into the courtyard. There are several reasons that I want to see in there, Mrs. Dunn, and your reticence to let me in has made me a little curious," Booth smiled, his voice at its most unpleasantly polite.
"Agent Booth. Let me assure you that no one has been in that courtyard for several years. The lock has rusted over, as one of your colleagues has verified," she said, lines showing on apparently smooth skin as her temper began to crack.
"Why have you stopped volunteers from helping to tidy that area?" Bones asked. "It would be a wonderful area for science experiments to take place. I don't understand why leave it such a mess, and possibly dangerous if a child happened to get in there. It's unsightly."
"It is one of the reasons I am hoping we will be granted enough money to completely rebuild the school. Like you said, Dr Brennan, the area is dangerous, and unsightly. There are also other aspects of the building that are not as a school should be in the twenty first century. This will hopefully be rectified with a new build. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an important phone call to make. A locksmith is on his way this afternoon to open the door," she turned her back to them and went to her office.
"Mrs Dunn," Booth called back sweetly. "I'll be going in your courtyard a lot sooner than this afternoon."
"You do, Agent Booth, and I'll see to it that you are on desk duties for the rest of your career," she said back, voice level and unmoving.
Booth nodded. "And I'm sure that the governors of the school will be very interested to know exactly how this establishment is being run, particularly when they get to speak to your accountant, Mrs Dunn." The door was slammed. Bones looked at him, eyes questioning.
"You're accusing her of ciphering money from the school?" She said. "Booth, she could get you in serious trouble for that accusation."
"She could, if it wasn't true. Look at the state of this place, Bones, and think of the area and the wealth of the parents. I heard Cullen say that the school had had a big donation from one of the local businesses. That money has never been used. I've asked one of the accounts specialists to have a look into what's been going on here," Booth explained as they began to walk around the courtyard, looking at it through large, old windows. The lock had been rusted, and obviously unopened for some time.
Booth stopped still and stared. He was aware of Bones watching him until she realised what had caught his attention. The window that he was looking at wasn't locked and it was large enough for Booth to fit through without having to squeeze.
Bones slipped in front of him and easily flicked the catch and pushed up the window. He noticed that the windowsill outside had been recently rubbed down, obliterating any fingerprints, but also proving that someone had been in the courtyard in the last day or so.
Booth lifted his leg and strode over the sill and stepped into the courtyard. He turned round and offered a hand to Bones, who surprisingly took it without hesitation or argument. He caught her eyes as she came through and resisted the temptation to kiss her, although he badly wanted to.
Keeping hold of her hand he headed straight through bushes and wildflowers, passed the greenhouse which was cleared of all its glass, toward a dilapidated shed that Booth guessed would have once been used for groups of children to pot seedlings and house plants during the winter.
The front of the shed was hidden by a large buddleia, purple cones of flowers pointing off the woody shrub. The path to the shed had become overgrown with weeds, and looking down briefly he saw that it had become home to several types of insects and would probably be like a day in heaven for Hodgins. "Look," he pointed out a large beetle to Bones. "Hodgins could have a mate for Engelbert." He saw Bones give him a soft smile.
"He says sex stops them from performing well on race days," Brennan retorted, her eyes on the insect.
"Not like me then," Booth said, a smug grin fixing itself on his face. "Sex helps me perform." Bones ignored him.
Booth inspected the shed closely. It had a new lock, still shining silver and free of the ivy that had grown around the door. The window had been boarded up, so Booth was unable to see inside. He turned to Bones. "I'm going in," he said. He felt an arm on his shoulder.
"Remember what happened the last time you kicked down one of those? Find the janitor and get a screwdriver. That door will be simple to take off. Do you think the cleaning fluid might be in there?" She asked.
"I just know that we'll find something important inside it. You go find Phil and I'll wait here," he felt reluctant to leave the shed unattended. He had already seen several pairs of eyes looking at him through the windows, the bright sun half hiding facing behind its reflected glare, but he didn't want to give an opportunity for anyone to come in and remove anything from the shed.
He watched as Bones made her way down the path, feet nimbly avoiding weeds that were waiting to trip any unsuspecting person. She had wanted to talk and he had blown her off. He didn't want to hear her say that she didn't want a relationship with him, but he knew that at some point he was going to have to prepare himself to hear those words.
He regained a grasp on his thoughts and returned them to the shed, pacing round it, tapping on the wood, and at one point giving it a little kick. Bones speeded back into the courtyard, the janitor with her, carrying a toolbox. Phil nodded at Booth, kneeling down by the door and began to unscrew the lock.
"This is new," he said, removing it swiftly. "I didn't think anyone had been in here for years, but for all I know the queen could be using it hold some secret rendezvous."
Booth nearly chocked at the thought. "I doubt she would have attempted to get through the window," he replied back. Phil moved away from the door. Booth pushed the bolt and the door swung open.
The shed was small, dark, and cramped; the only light was what was now streaming through the door, bits of dust and pollen catching in the light. An old tin bath sat at one end of the small space, old bags of compost that had now dried up in the sweltering heat of the shed lined the walls. Near the bath were empty plastic eight litre bottles of something that looked like industrial cleaning solution. Insects crawled over the floor, some scurrying once they had seen the light.
In the middle of the floor lay a small boy, feet and arms bound; a gag over his mouth. His skin was dirty, flecks of soil sticking to it and discolouring his short blonde hair. He was dressed in an old school shirt, two buttons missing. The smell around him was of stale urine, but that would not have acted as a deterrent to any sane person.
Booth and Bones immediately entered the shed, Brennan collapsing to the boy's side and pressing two fingers onto the side of his neck, checking for a pulse.
She nodded at Booth. "He's alive. His pulse is weak, but its there."
Booth pulled his cell from his pocket and began to dial for an ambulance. They had found David Matthieson.
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The next few minutes were a blur of people. Brennan stayed by the boy who seemed so small, watching him breathe with difficulty. She imagined he had been given a tranquilizer; none of the compound 1080 looked to have been administered as there was no sign of vomit, and no other physical symptoms were present.
Booth had gone to stand at the window entrance to the courtyard, waiting for his colleagues to appear, cordoning off the school. She imagined the children would be sent home, the staff kept there and questioned once more. It seemed apparent that the killer had worked there, or had at least had something close to do with the school. He would have had to have had keys to access the building and been familiar with the alarm system.
The boy beside her began to stir, his lips twitching and a hand moving slightly, before returning to the almost lifeless inertness. Brennan gently touched his forehead, finding him to be hot and clammy. She wondered how long he had been in this shed. There had been signs that he had been held in the hut by the river – it had been David's t-shirt that they had found. She thought he had probably been here for around thirty six hours, long enough to have come round from whatever he had been previously drugged with to experience the grim surroundings, the insects scuttling across the soiled floor, to have seen the tin bath and to have smelt the stench of decomposing flesh that was now apparent through the strong odour of cleaning fluid.
A paramedic appeared and went immediately to David. He nodded at Brennan in a silent greeting. "We're taking him to West General. I imagine we'll see you there shortly."
She nodded her affirmation. "Did my partner – Agent Booth - give you his card?" She asked. "Please let us know if there's any change in his condition." The paramedic nodded.
Brennan watched as his colleague came and helped him to stretcher out the child. She looked out of the shed and saw faces at the windows, watching the macabre show that was now taking place. She was surprised that the teachers had allowed the children to view this, but she supposed they had seen worse things on television.
She moved back into the shed, and to the bath. Putting on latex gloves that had been in the kit that had accompanied her, she began to lift the empty plastic bottles that were next to it. It had been this bath that had been used to wash the bodies in the bleach. She put her head to see if a drain had been made, and noticed that a pipe had been installed from the plug hole through the wooded floor and under the shed. That would mean that the plant life and insect colonies underneath the shed should have been affected by the cleaning fluid.
A few cups stood on the floor next to where the boy had been, plastic ones, the type that was next to water dispensers. It was likely that David had been given small drinks of water that contained dopamine, or something of that nature.
But they had found him, alive. He would be returned to his parents, although bearing psychological scars that he might never recover from. What tortures he had been put through they didn't yet know, she just hoped that he had been unconscious for most of the time since his kidnapping and would have very little memory of what had happened in the duration of his imprisonment, even if it meant they were no closer to identifying the perpetrator.
Booth appeared in the doorway, his large build blocking the light. She looked at him, her attention automatically caught. "Forensics are here," he told her. "The children are being sent home once their parents have been contacted. The staff are staying here. Cullen's setting up interview rooms in some of the classrooms."
"I want to go to the hospital and check on David," she said.
Booth nodded. "As they were stretchering him out he began to regain consciousness. He's the first person we need to speak to. Cullen will start off here, but I've asked him to save a few people for me. It'll do them good to sweat it out." He moved close to her and she was aware of the heat of his presence; it felt like some intoxicating liquor that she wasn't entirely sure of ho w it would affect her.
Brennan nodded, agreeing wth what he had said. He took hold of her hand, surprising her. She flinched with the shock and he let go. "You startled me," she told him, reaching for him determinedly. He gave her the lopsided smile that reverberated through her, and pulled her into his chest, putting an arm around her. She felt him kiss the top of her head, and whatever voices shouted out to her to stop being so defenselessly female she ignored and enjoyed the fact that she could hear his heart pounding away and smell the scent that was his own.
His grip on her relaxed and she realised that someone was at the door as the light was blocked. "Booth?" She recognised the voice immediately.
"It's been a stressful few days, sir," Booth's voice vibrated through his chest and through her body. She pulled herself together and eased out of his grasp.
"We're just thankful to have found David," she said, wondering why her tone sounded guilty.
Cullen's eyes widened. "I'm going to start with interviewing some of the teachers. If you want to be included in interviewing Mr Phillips, Mrs Dunn, Mrs Sanderson and Mr Wheeler then I suggest you hurry along to the hospital."
Booth nodded. "Yes, sir," he said. Brennan felt a smile forming and tried her best to conceal it, feeling rather like a naughty teenager who had been caught behind the bike sheds when she should have been in class. Cullen eyed them both sternly, and left.
She looked at Booth, trying to ignore the black fear that clouded her. There were so many arguments why these feelings shouldn't be allowed to grow, but so many reasons why she should let them take a hold of her, and feel something that she knew she yearned for.
Whenever he had told her in the past to not talk to suspects, or people in general, hinting that her people skills were not up to the job she had felt hurt. That level of hurt had grown as she had tried to research and learn how to deal with people, trying her best to fit in a little more. Previously she had only dealt with dead bodies and scientists whose interpersonal skills were as bad as her own. She had tried to become better at it, trying to be more understanding and less analytical and clinical, seeking his praise. And as she had learned more about the land of the living, as Angela had put it, she had wanted to become more involved, liking the fact that she did have a kind of family, and people she needed and was needed by, after all this time of hiding in her shell.
And she knew she was wanting to be needed by him, and that feeling, that desire, was winning the battle.
"Come on," he whispered, taking hold of her hand again. She let him, although she knew she had stiffened with the touch. He kept her hand in his while they were hidden by the overgrown bushes and wild weeds, only letting go when they were in view of other people.
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Booth felt a sense of calm quilting him as he weaved his way through the traffic toward the hospital. The tension between him and Bones had settled; the fact that they had found David alive and hopefully as well as he could be had ironed out some of the stress marks on him. He had been half amazed when she had kept hold of his hand. He knew that it had been a big thing for her to do.
His eyes settled on her as they stopped at traffic lights.
"Booth," she said softly. "Why are you looking at me?"
"You have something in your hair," he lied. He lifted a hand and brushed his finger through her hair, removing an imaginary piece of something. "It's gone now," he told her, wondering if he should imagine another imaginary piece of fluff. The car behind him beeped impatiently and he realised that the lights were now on green. Looking in the direction he was meant o be driving he put his foot down and sped over to the hospital.
Cullen had phoned and told him that David was being treated in a private room in the children's wing. Booth knew where to go as Parker had been there once after developing an allergic reaction to seafood. He had been with Rebecca at the time, which had been to Booth's advantage. Had the discovery been made when he had been in Booth's charge then he doubted that he would have seen Parker again until he had been old enough to make the arrangements himself.
The rain had stopped and the sun was doing its best to soak up any remaining puddles that were still on the ground. It was a day that would have perfect to spend at a beach, the dry heat comfortable and almost seductive after the rain and humidity that had enveloped the area.
The hospital was cool and air conditioned, almost a little too chilly. He could see Bones rub her arms, trying to create some warmth and he just about managed to not put his arm round her, sharing his body heat with her.
David's room was the end one on a long corridor. They walked past two lines full of sick kids, each child making him pray that Parker stayed healthy. He could see Bones assess each one as she walked past, a little pain showing in her face.
"How do their parents manage?" She asked him in an undertone.
"They have to. They have to hold it together because of the kid," he told her simply.
"I don't know if I could," she admitted. He wondered what thoughts had been going through her head recently to bring about talk of coping as a parent. He had never expected to her anything to do with coping with kids erupt out of Bones' mouth. He realised the impact of the kiss and found he had a hint at why she was finding it all so difficult.
"You'd manage. You'd have the child's father to lean on. But there's nothing to say that any child you'd have would get sick," they stopped outside David's door. Booth could see both of his parents sat beside him. His mom had obviously been crying. He looked at Bones.
"I guess it's a risk," she said, looking to Booth to open the door. He couldn't answer of divulge into this conversation any more, but he stored it in his head for future discussion.
David was propped up in bed, his face had regained colour although he looked thin and small. "Hi, David," he said quietly, sitting at the end of the bed. "We need to have a few quick words with you just to find out if you can tell us who did all this to you, if that's alright with your mom and dad?" He looked to the parents who both nodded.
"I can't remember anything," David said in a tiny voice. "I was playing soccer and someone grabbed me when I went to get the ball from a bush. I remember waking up a bit and not knowing where I was, but that was it." He explained.
"You didn't see the man who got you?" Booth said. "It doesn't matter if you didn't, there will be plenty of other ways to find out who it was."
David nodded.
"Do you know who drew the picture of the man with no mouth?" Bones asked.
David shrugged, looking a little paler. "Four of us got them in our desks. Me, Jacob, Neil and Seth. We didn't know who'd done them, but they were good so we kept them. I though my parents would think it weird so I hid it"
Booth nodded. "Did you hear the voice of the man who had taken you?"
David shook his head. "He never said anything. Mom, can you bring my PSP in tomorrow?"
Booth realised the conversation had come to an end. He didn't want to press any further as he didn't want to traumatise the boy any more than he had been already, and it was good that he had been oblivious to what had happened. He looked at Bones, she smiled slightly and stood up off the seat where she'd perched.
"Mr, Mrs Matthieson, if David does remember anything, can you please let us know?" He asked.
Mr Matthieson stood up and nodded his head. "Of course. And thank you, Agent Booth, for finding him," he said, giving Booth such a look of gratitude that Booth almost went red.
"That's my job," he replied. He saluted the young boy in the bed and walked outside to where Bones had stood.
"That's probably for the best – that he doesn't remember," she said.
He looked at her, the way her body curved and imagined what it would be like to have her against him every night. "I agree. Still want to talk?" He asked.
She nodded.
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Agent Cullen had spent more years than he cared to count serving his country in the FBI. His levels of observation were still excellent and it had not gone unnoticed by him that Agent Booth and the anthropologist had exited the courtyard hand in hand.
He took his cell phone out of his pocket and scrolled to find a number he rarely dialled.
"Dr Goodman," the voice on the other end of the line responded.
"I'll wager thirty bucks there are by Friday," Cullen said, not exchanging pleasantries.
"By Saturday," Goodman replied.
"Who will judge?"
"I am sure Miss Montenegro will provide some useful information," Goodman said in his usual accent.
"Done."
This chapter is not my best - but hey, its up. Looks like they're off to talk. You know what you need to do if you want to find out what happens - and that includes lurkers! I accept anoymous reviews, just hit Go!
weiver
Sarah x (& Eldred)
