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Ch. 8 – Negotiations
Brennan gave Booth yet another sidelong glance. Ever since she had volunteered the night before to go undercover he had barely spoken to her. He'd refused to plan or even discuss how they would go about catching the killer. He'd simply escorted her out of the building, walked her to her car and said a civil good night.
Not sure what was going to happen today, she'd gone to the lab to study the case files yet again. She'd been at work for maybe an hour when Booth had appeared in the doorway of her office, the same blank look on his face. They had a meeting with the deputy director, he'd told her curtly. Nodding, she'd followed him out and endured the silent car ride to the Hoover building. But now sitting between Booth and Clark in Cullen's office, waiting for the deputy director to arrive, she was starting to feel anxious and annoyed. It was obvious Booth was upset, most likely with her, and she couldn't understand why. She hadn't done anything wrong. Her volunteering to go undercover was logical. She knew the most about the case after Clark and Booth and she fit the killer's preferred victim profile. Booth had to see that. So why was he treating her like she'd committed a crime?
Brennan's train of thought was interrupted when Cullen entered and then sighed.
"Oh this is definitely how I wanted to start my morning," he said sarcastically as he closed the door behind him. Sitting down at his desk, the older man took a sip of his coffee, made a face of disgust, and turned his attention to the three individuals seated in front of him. He could already feel the headache coming on.
"What brings the three of you to my office at 8:30 in the morning?" he asked.
Clark and Brennan simultaneously turned to Booth, who had dragged both of them in.
"Agent Booth?" the director prodded.
"There was a new development last night," Booth began, "Our killer attacked another woman. However, he didn't kill her. Which means we now know that he's on the lookout for his third kill and then he'll be moving on to another state. We want to catch him before he does so."
Cullen nodded, "Sounds fine to me."
"Yes, sir, but the problem is that the only way we're going to catch this guy is if we send in a woman undercover."
Cullen shrugged, "I still don't see the problem, Booth."
"That's what I told him, sir," Clark interrupted, "but he has an issue with the woman that Dr. Brennan and myself want to send in."
"Who is it?"
"I volunteered to go, sir," Brennan answered, catching the brief, pained look that crossed Booth's face, but it was quickly replaced by the now familiar blank look.
"Dr. Brennan, no disrespect, but you're not an agent. I strongly dislike the idea of sending you."
"But she's the perfect fit, sir," Clark argued, "She strongly resembles all of the other victims, she knows the details of this case inside out, and we all know that she is perfectly capable of defending herself."
Booth raised his eyebrows at the last comment but found himself unable to deny the fact that Brennan was entirely capable of protecting herself. Cullen gave the forensic anthropologist seated directly across from him a long gaze and then turned apologetically Booth.
"Clark does make a good point."
Booth closed his eyes briefly and then letting out a deep breath he said, "Sir, I hate to do this but I'd like to request that Dr. Brennan be removed from the case."
"Booth!" Brennan burst out, turning to her partner in surprise and mild outrage.
The agent ignored the woman beside him and continued to address his boss, "You did give me the authority, sir, to pull her off the case if I felt she was being needlessly endangered."
"I did," the director replied slowly.
"But this isn't needless," Brennan stated, "We need to catch this man before he kills again. We all know that I am nowhere near being in danger. I've fended off more creeps than you count."
"Dr. Brennan, " Cullen began, "I do appreciate your… abilities. But I'm not yet convinced that you are the only person capable of delivering a believable performance. Do you honestly think you can pass yourself off as a stripper? Because as I understand it, it is entirely possible that the killer has watched these women perform before he killed them and it may be the same with you. Could you really do that?"
"Well, sir, I actually do have some informal knowledge of how to perform a striptease. I'm not an ecdysiast but I can certainly pass myself off as one."
All three men turned questioning gazes on the one woman in the room. "Ecdysiast?" Booth asked, the same question that Cullen and Clark had been about to spill out.
"Ecdysiast, derived from the Greek ekdysls. Essentially, a stripper."
The other men in the room nodded and Booth muttered, "Of course, she knows big words for everything else. Couldn't just be incomprehensible when she talks about bones."
"Sorry?" Brennan queried, turning to face Booth.
"Nothing," he replied, turning his attention back to the deputy director.
Cullen was silent for a long moment, considering everything that had been presented to him. Finally, he spoke.
"I'm afraid, Agent Booth, that I must agree with Clark and Brennan and approve their request that she be allowed to go undercover."
Booth closed his eyes against his defeat. Swallowing the fear that was already building, he reopened his eyes as Cullen continued speaking.
"However, there is one condition: Booth will also go undercover."
"Sir!" Clark interrupted, "it may have escaped your notice, but I'm pretty sure our killer will never buy Booth as an… ecdysiast."
"I didn't say he was going to be a stripper, Agent Clark. I am certain that he can pass as a fraternity alumnus, which will also give him access to the Delta Phi Epsilon house. He'll be in the same room as Dr. Brennan during her… ahem… performance and only a block behind her after she leaves that house, not in some support van fifteen blocks away. Is that acceptable to you, Agent Booth?"
Booth nodded, grateful to the director, but he was unable to completely rid himself of the feeling of foreboding in his gut. The agent noted out of the corner of his eye that Brennan looked slightly relieved as well. He smiled to himself. Obviously, she hadn't been as confident as she'd let on.
"Alright, now will the three of you get the hell out of my office and solve this case so that I don't have to mediate another one of these meetings? Please?" Cullen added almost desperately.
Booth nodded, leading the way out of the office. He strode down the hallway and standing at the elevator was surprised to see Brennan and Clark further back, conversing. He felt a sudden spike of jealousy when Brennan began to laugh. He'd rarely seen her emit more than a chuckle and the fact that Clark had caused her to let out that resounding giggle made him want to pummel the other agent into the ground. That was until the two approached him, Brennan still laughing and clutching her sides while Clark followed along looking peeved.
"What's so funny?" Booth asked.
Brennan gasped for air, and stopped laughing although a wide smile still split her face. Finally, she answered, "Clark volunteered himself as a practice audience for my striptease act."
Booth felt a mixture of anger at Clark and relief that Brennan had come nowhere near to considering the offer.
"And you turned down that kind proposal, Bones?" he asked teasingly.
"Booth, he is definitely not the FBI agent I'd want to remove my clothes for," Brennan replied, entering the newly arrived elevator. Turning around, she leaned against the wall to face an annoyed Clark and a speechless Booth. As the doors slid closed, she winked at the latter and then let out another giggle, the last sound Booth heard as she disappeared from sight.
"Are you nuts?"
Brennan looked up from her computer, where she had been working on the chapter for her latest book, to see an outraged Angela Montenegro standing in her doorway.
"Nice to see you too, Angela," she said, turning to face her friend.
"Seriously, are you nuts? I mean beating up a gang leader that was pretty dumb. But this whole undercover thing is insane. And as a stripper? Bren, tell me the truth, you've lost your mind haven't you?"
Brennan smiled at the worried ranting of her friend.
"Ange, I hate to disappoint you but I'm perfectly sane. And my decision to go undercover is utterly rational."
"Rational? You're going to go into a frat house, take off your clothes, put your clothes back on, leave the house, and act as bait for a crazy serial killer who beats the crap out women and rapes them before he murders them. Yup, that is the very definition of rational right there."
Angela had moved from the doorway to lean against the desk, in close to proximity to her friend. Although her words had a hint of sarcasm in them, the fear in her eyes was real and Brennan floundered to find something reassuring to say to her friend.
"Sweetie, I get that you want to help solve the case," Angela continued. "You always do. And I even get that on some level you might identify with these women because they look like you. And before you protest about the psychology, I'll move on. But this whole undercover thing? Isn't it just a little too risky for you? It's not like going out on one of your digs in countries where people disappear every day. You're intentionally serving yourself up as bait to a psycho killer. And you're going by yourself into a situation that's going to be utterly foreign to you."
"I'm not going in by myself," Brennan interrupted, realizing just what would reassure Angela about the whole situation.
"What do you mean?"
"Booth's going to go undercover too. They've set it up so that he can pretend to be an alumnus of the fraternity coming back to visit his younger brother. I won't be alone, Ange."
"Really?" Angela asked.
"Yes," a familiar male voice intoned from the doorway.
"Booth," Brennan greeted, a hint of surprise in her a voice and a tentative smile on her face. Booth noted the uncertainty in her eyes and suddenly felt guilty for how he'd treated her the night before and that morning. She had only been being herself and he knew that, but somehow he'd felt angry that she could be so naively reckless in that way that frightened him to the core. Seeing doubt begin to creep into her expression he gave her a small smile in return. He noted the brief expression of relief that crossed her face, which was quickly replaced by her usual neutral expression.
Angela turned on the agent in the doorway, ignoring all social niceties, and began interrogating, "You're actually letting her do this?"
Booth raised his hands in mock self-defense, "Hey, I was on your side."
"Then why is she still going to pretend to be a stripper for this insane little set-up?"
"I was overruled. Your dear friend and Clark managed to convince Cullen that she was the best one for the job. I'm just following orders."
Angela gave up trying to prevent what she still thought was a crazy attempt at catching the killer and quickly switched to her favorite subject.
"So you're under orders to watch Temperance take off her clothes? That must be hard for you."
"No. I mean, yes. I mean… Bones, a little help?"
Brennan leaned back in her chair with a wicked grin, "Why? I'm enjoying this. Besides it distracts me from the thought of being naked in a room full of young, possibly drunk, men who are most likely amongst the 54 of the male species who think about sex once or several times a day."
"Bones, when there's a naked woman in front of a guy I'm pretty sure he's thinking about sex more than once," Booth said with a sly grin.
Brennan raised her eyebrows and a flush suddenly appeared on her cheekbones. Booth couldn't help but think that it made her look even more alluring. Realizing that he was about to join the 54, he turned his attention to Angela who had been watching this latest exchange of banter with a growing grin. Noticing the look that both Temperance and Booth were shooting her, she turned her attention back to the more important matter at hand.
"So you're going to be there with her every second? Nothing's going to happen to her?"
"Nothing's going to happen," Booth confirmed.
"And you're not going to be stupid are you?" Angela turned to her friend. "You're going to let him save you and not be a stubborn ass and get the crap kicked out of you just to prove that you can hit the other guy harder?"
Brennan rolled her eyes and then yelped when Angela pinched her.
"Ow. What was that for?"
"You rolled your eyes at me."
"Angela," Brennan practically whined. Now it was Booth's turn to smirk.
"Don't. Now promise you're not going to be stupid," Angela said sternly to the forensic anthropologist.
Brennan considered protesting again but ruled that it was probably safer not to.
"I promise," she said with a sigh.
"And you're not going to let anything happen to her, are you?" Angela questioned, turning a fiercely protective gaze on Booth.
"I promise," he intoned solemnly.
"Good," Angela said, striding over to Brennan's couch and plopping down with an appeased expression on her face.
"Hey Ange?" Booth began.
"Yeah?"
"How would you like it if you could make sure that Brennan was safe during this whole escapade?"
"I am not going to go in as a stripper, too," Angela interrupted, "I think one nude Jeffersonian employee is more than enough."
Booth chuckled, "That wasn't what I was going to suggest. I was going to say that I could set it up so that you can be in the support van with Clark while we're doing our undercover thing. You'll know everything that's going on. I can even set it up so that you can talk to Bones the whole time."
"Really?" Angela asked, her eyes lighting up.
"Really," Booth answered.
"Oh, this is so awesome. I have to go tell Jack. He'll be so jealous that I get to be in on an undercover mission and he doesn't," Angela trilled as she practically skipped out of Brennan's office.
Booth and Brennan exchanged smiles. The agent then stepped further into Brennan's office, sliding the door shut behind him. He took Angela's spot on the couch and Brennan got up from behind her desk to join him. Seating herself comfortably, she stared at her hands for a long moment as she gathered her nerves before turning to face Booth. They hadn't had a serious conversation since before Siobhan O'Byrne's interrogation and as Brennan glanced at her watch she noted that that had been almost twenty-four hours ago.
"So," Booth began.
"So," Brennan answered back.
"Clark's setting up the last details of this caper we're about to go on but everything looks solid for the day after tomorrow."
"That soon?"
"Hey, you can't accuse the FBI of sitting around on its ass after it's made up its mind. We're very gung-ho."
"Gung-ho?"
"Yes, Bones, it is a word."
"Technically, it's hyphenated. It's just not typically a term I would associate with you. Or the FBI for that matter."
Booth smiled and allowed his head to lean back against the couch, enjoying the silence and the company. It was quiet for a long moment and then Brennan awkwardly began to speak.
"Booth?"
"Hmm?"
"Listen, I know you're not very enthusiastic about the whole idea of my going undercover. And I know that it's not because you think that I can't do it or that you think that I can't defend myself. You were taught to protect women and you're practically brainwashed with some form of an overprotective drive suited entirely to your alpha male persona. But that's not really the point. We're friends and partners and maybe we… somehow we're more than… well, that's not important. What I meant to say was that I understand that if anything ever happened to me you'd have some issues coping with it. Angela says it's some kind of Catholic guilt thing that you've got going on. But I think you should know that I'd feel… just as awful if anything ever happened to you. So, what I'm really trying to say is that I understand on some level why you do what you do and I want to tell you that you don't have to worry about me when we're undercover. I already promised Angela, but now I'm telling you, I won't do anything… stupid."
During Brennan's speech, Booth had sat up straight and turned so that his dark eyed gaze was connected with hers and he saw the intensity and the desire to express something she hadn't entirely defined yet. She paused for a moment and looked away from him and then spoke in a low voice.
"I should have written this down. My dialogue is always better on paper."
"No, Bones, that was… it was really… it meant something to me. At least the parts that I could understand. And everything you said was right, except for maybe the male overprotective mentality. But I'm going to worry about you, no matter what, because you're you and I'm me. And that's what I do. But don't think that I don't appreciate what you're going to do. I know how important it is for you to get the bad guy and if you can help protect someone it's that much better for you. And I'm going to help you do this despite the fact that I'd rather lock you up in your lab with your bones and keep you as far away from this murderer as possible."
Brennan gave Booth a soft smile and reaching she gave his bicep a light squeeze.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Booth ducked his head before all the other emotions he felt in regards to a certain forensic anthropologist suddenly spilled out. While he was ready to discuss whatever else was between them, he knew Bones wasn't. So, he swallowed his heart out of his throat and turned back to Brennan with his charm smile.
"Ok, enough of that. How about drinks and maybe some dinner at Wong Foo's?"
"Sounds good. But I'm paying," Brennan said, a challenge for him to defy her in her expression.
Booth raised his hands in surrender, "I'm not going to argue with the woman who knows how to break my arm fifteen different ways."
Brennan smiled again and she chuckled lightly, "I know how, but at the moment I'm not that inclined."
"No? I'm surprised. I must have grown on you."
"I may not be inclined right now, but that could always change, Booth," Brennan warned, a wide smile on her face.
"Ok, no messing with the bones lady. Got it," Booth said, smiling back as he rested his hand on the small of her back and led her out of her office.
Did I just write some fluff? Couldn't be. Maybe it was. Did you like it? Did you believe it? Want to make suggestions, comments, bribe me with sweet treats and orange juice so that I'll write more? My muse prefers chocolate in any form but you can send it my way first and I'll pass it on. To do any or all of the above, press that tiny button below. There will be great appreciation and jubilation.
