A/N: Thank you to all of those who have reviewed, an oversized clone of Seeley Booth/Angela Montengro is on its way to you. Thank you for all the Danny Messers; they are currently lined up in my house awaiting attention. My other half is being very supportive about this.
This is the penultimate chapter, by the way. It was going to be 21 chapters, but it seems to be fitting itself nicely into 20.
Usual disclaimer applies. (See previous chapters.)
Chapter 19 – Talk
Booth saw Bones sat on a chair waiting for him to come out of the interview room, a look on her face than told him she still wasn't happy that she hadn't gotten to do a preliminary interview with Wheeler. Cullen had insisted that he went in with Booth, as he had been present at the interview of Valerie Sanderson and wanted to see how the two stories matched up, and after taking one look at Bones' face, Booth had thought it best that she go home and rest, but she hadn't. The stubborn woman had stayed there waiting for him, although he must admit, it had given him a reason to get through the interview.
Sanderson had broken down once she heard that Wheeler had been arrested, confessing that she had hoped he would get away. She had implicated Wheeler in assisting her, but claimed quite proudly that it had been her idea and her motive behind it. She had shown, from what he had heard from the taped interview, that she was remorseful for getting caught, but not for what she had done.
Booth didn't doubt that she had provided the motive, and even the brains behind the scheme, but he was certain that Wheeler had needed no encouragement in carrying out their plans.
Wheeler had been a difficult suspect to interview. He had begun with congratulating them on having caught him, then went into a polite mode that had made Booth wish he could have gone back a few years and punched him one.
However, Booth had sat there, composed, arms folded against his chest, sharing the questioning with Cullen. Wheeler, so far, had not given them a straight answer, merely referring to the evidence he knew that they had, which had actually mounted up; the boys' clothes having been discovered in Valerie Sanderson's house, put in a bin sack and badly hidden under the bed, a fact that Booth had been informed of just before entering the interview room. Wheeler had tried to suggest that the clothes had been there as Valerie was washing them as they had been in lost property for some time, and she was going to give them to one of the poorer families. The excuse had been torn apart by both Booth and Cullen. It had seemed that Wheeler and Sabderson had never expected to have come under suspicion, and had taken very few measure to actually cover their tracks.
He had asked Wheeler about the drawings, curious as to why he had given them to the boys before they took them.
"Don't read too much into things, Agent Booth," Wheeler had laughed, knowing that there was no way out for him now and becoming willing to give more information. "It scared them; it was a mystery to them. Thomas Dyer actually brought the picture to me after I had left it for him and asked me to help him find who did it," Wheeler had smiled, almost as if he was recalling happy memories. Booth felt slightly sick at how Wheeler had abused his position of trust.
"Why did you help her?" Cullen had inquired, once Wheeler's and Valerie's stories had begun to tally.
"Why not?" He smiled. "Why would I not want to help someone who I had worked with and grown fond of over the course of years. Valerie was a good friend. She was in pain. I wanted to help absolve her of that pain. It's what friends do," he had looked from one agent to another, giving them an empathetic smile.
Booth blinked heavily, as if he could not believe what he was hearing. He glanced at Cullen who was wearing a similar expression, and let out a bemused half laugh.
"I do believe, Agents, that I am entitled to a lawyer, and that I have certain rights. I am sure one of those rights is to be able to sleep, so if you would please allow me to do so," Wheeler had said, his voice perfectly calm and affable. "And in the morning I should like to see a lawyer. I have her card in my wallet which you have taken off me."
Booth had stood up, Cullen had nodded.
"You can have as much sleep as you want, Wheeler," Cullen had replied. "You won't be going anywhere."
"Please, call me Peter. I'm sure we'll be seeing a fair bit of each other in the next few days. Better that we're on casual terms," Wheeler said, once their backs had been turned. A guard had stepped forward to re-cuff the man and return him to his cell.
Booth swung round, fists clenched. His hands dropped to the table that separated him and the murderer. "Look, you son-of-a-bitch slime ball. I don't want to call you anything, because, frankly, you aren't worthy of a name, you're not even human." Booth had allowed himself one more glare and then walked out of the door, proud of himself for not actually having laid a finger on even a hair on Wheeler's head.
Bones was the antidote to all that had happened in there. She looked tired – it was now past four am – and pale, her hair dishevelled and her eyes half closing with sleep. He felt a longing for possession and a yearning to call her his, but after her running off again he wasn't sure whether that would be allowed. Her eyes opened at his approach, offering him something between a smile and a glare. She stood up, waiting for him to get to her, and they paced off in silence down the corridor, toward the exit, toward home and sleep.
He climbed in his car beside her. "I think we'll be off down to Wheeler's previous home town after this ball thing on Saturday," he said, breaking the quiet. "Cullen's got some of the local PD to begin investigating the disappearance of his wife and kid, but we'll required to go too, especially if any bones are found."
He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye and there was silence for a few minutes as he began the drive to take her home. "Booth, is it okay if I come back to yours?" She asked him out of the blue.
He swerved badly, almost missing a tight bend in the road due to the surprise she had just given him.
"It is, but if you're gonna run out on me again then…" he warned.
"I won't do," she assured quietly.
"Okay," his mind began to think over the possibilities that could happen with her at his place, any sign of tiredness now shot away by hope.
He pulled up onto his drive, the silence of the neighbourhood seeming soothing and peaceful. Bones had already stepped out of his SUV, limped slightly up the drive and was at his door, impatiently waiting for him to let her in.
"You're ankle's still bad – did you get anyone to look at it?" He asked, inserting the key into the lock.
She shook her head. "It's sprained. It needs rest and maybe strapping up, but it would be a waste of someone's time to have it looked at."
Booth shook his head at her as if she was a petulant child. "If that had been me, then you would have taken me to the emergency room kicking and screaming."
"It's really not that bad, Booth," she reassured him, although he figured the words were probably more to stop him from berating her than to console him.
He pushed the door open and let her through first. She immediately went to the kitchen, and to the kettle.
"Make yourself at home, Bones!" He called, locking the door securely. A blaze of sarcastic laughter came back his way.
He ran upstairs to change, reappearing in old jeans and a t-shirt. He found her sat at his kitchen table, two cups of coffee in front of her. He joined her, noticing that the tension between them had resumed. He remembered the feel of her body against his and he hoped that that wouldn't be the last time.
She was tapping her fingers on the table, and he figured that she was waiting to say something. He couldn't resist a smile at the vision in front of him, obviously a little nervous, and slightly impatient.
She caught his eye, and her lips gave him a flirtatious smile that made him melt. He grinned back, the tension between them altering from uncomfortable to charged with anticipation.
"I'm sorry for leaving you before after, we, you know," she looked at her fingers.
"I'm sure you know a hundred different ways to name it," Booth said, deciding not to make it that easy for her. "Are you sorry it happened?"
"No, not really," she answered, then diverted her eyes back to him. "Angela would say it's been a long time coming."
"Angela is probably right," his hand reached out for hers and he felt a jolt of excitement sear through him. "I can't handle you running off every time, Bones," he told her quietly.
She nodded. "I know. By the time I had gotten half way to my home I felt like an idiot. I can't tell you that I'm going to be easy, Booth, and that whatever demons I have will just go away, but I will try and fight them."
He smiled at her sincerity. "Bones, I just need to know that you're with me here, that I'm not chasing rainbows. It's taken Tessa to make me see what was right under my nose…"
"I could have told you where your mouth was," she interrupted. He was stirred from the moment by the comment and the flashing eyes teasing him.
"Was that a joke, Bones?" He laughed, leaning into her, his finger pointing at her teasingly. "You told a joke?"
She grabbed the finger. "Keep pointing that at me, and you'll be a metatarsal short," she threatened.
He laughed, and found that they were edging closer to each other. The light shining in her eyes reminded him of when they had been lip synching to foreigner in her apartment before he had been blown away by her fridge. She seemed so alive, even at stupid o'clock in the morning after one of their most gruelling cases yet.
He leaned in a little further, touching her lips with his and feeling her respond to him with a force that was deliberate and intimate. The kiss grew deeper, her hands moved over him, and he wondered if he had fallen into heaven or a dream world.
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Brennan found herself kissing Booth back with a passion that she hadn't really known she possessed, relaxing into his warmth as any fears seemed paralysed. She wanted this, this felt right. It had a familiar feeling about it, provided by what had happened a few hours ago, but the sense of wanting and anticipation had not died away; instead they were back with a punch.
"Bones," she heard him whisper as he pulled his lips away from hers. "As much as I liked getting acquainted in Hodgins' office with you earlier, I would like to be somewhere I could, you know, get comfy. Like a bedroom."
She smiled at him, her eyes heavy with desire and need. "Show me the way," she whispered back, feeling a little shy.
He waited for her to stand up before scooping her up in strong arms. She looked at him, giving him a glare but not fighting the action, and instead swinging her arms around his neck. She saw him smile in appreciation, and was a little surprised to realise that the claustrophobic feelings were no longer there, they seemed to have retired, at least for now, and hopefully for good.
Booth dropped her unceremoniously on the bed, which she noticed was unmade. She inhaled his scent from the sheets and grinned at him as he leant down over her.
"It's almost daylight," he growled at her, sending vibrations through every bone in her body. "We've had hardly any sleep in the past few days, and now your in my bed. What are you doing to me, Bones?"
"You could always take the couch," she suggested, gently poking him in the chest.
"Ouch, that hurt," he said, pulling a face, and taking a hand to where she had stabbed him with her nail. She felt him move so her legs were over his thighs. Both of his hands slid round her back and he lifted her so she now straddled him, sitting up. "I think you should kiss it better," he grinned.
"And where exactly does it hurt?" she asked, playing his game.
"Everywhere," he replied, giving her a mischievous grin.
"And what do I gain out of that?"
He put his head to one side. "I'll kiss you back," he offered.
She grinned. Such an offer could not be turned down.
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The sun had already crept in through the window a few hours ago, before departing and leaving a dull, cool day, thankfully without any rain. Booth's eyes opened unwillingly. No alarm clock had gone off, but still, he knew it was too early to be awake after so many days with so little sleep.
He tried to move his arm, but couldn't due to an unusual weight being on it. His eyes hovered over the weight and took in the sight of a sleeping Temperance Brennan. A smile seeped over his face, a rather smug smile with a hint of a happiness that he had rarely known. He left his arm where it was. She was deep in sleep, her eyes closed, and lips set firmly together. He would rather chop his arm off than wake her.
He wondered what she dreamt about; bones, her family, him? Or maybe she recited textbooks in her sleep – it wouldn't surprise him. He found that the thoughts had awakened him thoroughly, and his mind began to amuse itself by thinking of ways to wake her.
He was in the middle of a rather pleasant thought when he realised that one eye was staring at him. "Booth?" The owner of the eye called him. "You have a look on your face that Hodgins sometimes gets when he sees Angela."
"Really?" He screwed his face up.
"Really," the other eye opened.
"I could tell you what I was thinking," he enthused.
"Would it be easier to show me?" she grinned back, allowing him to move his arm from around her and rub it to bring it back to life.
"Seeing as you're still here, Bones, I guess it would."
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She got back to the lab in the middle of the afternoon, raising eyebrows as she entered with her FBI agent. There were various things she needed to tie up before she and Booth flew to Wheeler's previous home on Sunday, and begin the investigation there. Luckily it was only Wednesday, so she had three, possibly four days to complete the work she had been doing before the body at the river turned up.
Booth came with her to her office, hands in pockets, looking a little predatorily around. She eyed him, sending her thoughts without having to speak, a way of communicating she had discovered they had while he was doing unspeakable things to her only an hour or so ago.
"You gonna tell the squints?" he said, looking a little shy. Brennan looked at him, worry in her eyes. "Hey, I'm not that bad – at least Angela likes me!"
She shook her head. "Hodgins' desk – did you neaten it up?" She remembered where their first indecent encounter had taken place.
Booth nodded. Brennan smiled. At least that was one thing that there wasn't to worry about.
"I'd better get to work," he smiled again, shifting closer to her. This was nice, she thought. She didn't feel scared, or claustrophobic, or like running away from him. She liked this. A warm feeling buzzed inside of her.
He bent down and kissed her lightly. She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself closer, deepening the kiss.
A cheer broke the silence that had occurred. She moved back and looked to the door where Angela, Zack and Hodgins were stood, wide grins on their faces. Hodgins looked particularly triumphant.
"I do believe that I had Wednesday," he said rubbing his hands together. "That's guaranteed a few extra drinks on Saturday night."
Brennan knew there was the look of confusion on Booth's face. "Saturday night?" he asked warily.
"Yeah, your boss mentioned it, some big feebie dance?" Hodgins said, oblivious to Booth's 'this-day-couldn't-get-worse' look.
"You hate things like that," Booth said flatly.
Angela's eyebrows moved expressively. "He's met some cute little agent who's going a long, so he was more than happy to accept. I'm going as well. With Ryan," she beamed. Booth nodded. Brennan smiled, glad her friend was still happy with the man she had met during a visit to a friend in Alabama.
"So you won the bet?" Brennan asked, trying to take Booth's thoughts away from the rest of the 'squints', as he so charmingly called them, and onto something else.
"Yeah, it's been a pretty big pool. Zack had Saturday," he patted Zack's shoulder in false comfort.
"I figured you and Agent Booth may have reconciled your differences by then," he shrugged.
"We were a little early, Zack," she smiled at her assistant.
"Or a little late, depending how long you've watched you two swimming round in a river called denial," Angela said, mock annoyance in her expression.
"Anyway," Hodgins thumped his chest. "You guys have won me a few bucks, so thank you."
"No, Hodgins, thank you," Booth smiled.
"What for," Hodgins looked slightly worried. Booth grinned, his hand tapping Brennan's desk. "That was you, wasn't it. You," he pointed at the pair of them, "were responsible for the state my desk was in this morning."
Angela started to laugh. Zack looked like he had missed something and Hodgins walked out.
Brennan looked at Booth. Booth shrugged. "Somethings have just gotta be said."
I'm in shout out mode. I know this is not technically allowed, and I do try my bestest best to reply to reviews, but some people review anonymously, so I don't get to say thank you.
Thank you to; Foxie Roxie, Justawriter, live2rite (hello fellow Stockportonian!), Ava Leigh, toomanyobsessions, Sonnet Lacewing (you realise I will be on tenterhooks until you get them together!), Elizabeth Theresa, omg (love your pseudonym, WOATCAPIITON, sidleidol03, SpookyAnne, pagan-seijou, azaratheangel, Eliza's Faith, Ryan628, Miss Deeds, FreeBird06, Ryalin, Harley11, Pandora7, NYPD55Chick, gossipgirl1031, obsessedwithspike, lilbit, estreyastar, caroline, jemb, Reader, Always Angel 87, wolfmyjic, lime63, Hawkeye Girl, Natz, and all the rest of you who have been reviewing near enough every chapter. When Eldred wasn't in the mood, we just looked at your reviews and it motivated us again, so thank you many times over.
There's one chapter left - the FBI ball...
Please review - I still need inspiration, and I am a bit of a review whore.
