As always, many, many, many thanks for your wonderful reviews. Apologies for not updating sooner, it took my muse a bit to get her act together and then that pesky thing called work interfered.
Disclaimer: I like to borrow things that aren't mine and play with them. I promise to put them back where I found them when I'm done.
Ch. 15 – Good Night and Good Morning
Brennan gazed expectantly at her partner, expecting a response. Instead he stared at her mutely, his gaze roving over her body, taking in the wide white bandages wrapped around her wrists, the small band-aid on her forehead, and the many bruises that were visible on her exposed skin. She watched his jaw tighten in anger as his piercing gaze moved up her neck, lighting on the blackening bruise on her jaw before he met her eyes. She expected to see guilt and anger in their dark depths but was instead met with concern and behind that something else she couldn't label.
"Bones, what are you doing here? It almost four in the morning," Booth said, fatigue heavy in his voice as he walked past her and pressed the button for the elevator.
"I came for my debriefing," Brennan replied, joining him at the elevator.
"Debriefing?" Booth turned to her and she saw a brief flicker of anger cross his face, "Who brought you in? Norton? I'm going to make him wish…"
"Don't make him wish anything," Brennan interrupted, "Angela dropped me off. Actually, first she protested the entire drive here and then dropped me off. I talked to Deputy Director Cullen."
The elevator announced its presence with a ding and then the doors slid open heavily. Booth strode in and leaned against the wall. Brennan joined him and mirrored his posture. She closed her eyes for a moment and Booth watched as pain and exhaustion overwhelmed her expression but they both quickly disappeared when she re-opened her eyes and returned his gaze.
"You talked to Cullen?" Booth asked.
"Yes, I wanted to get it out of the way. I have every intention of sleeping through the week that Dr. Goodman insisted I take off. I do still have my written statement to do but it can wait."
"Yeah, it can wait," Booth agreed quietly as he led the way out of the elevator and down the hall. He nodded at the night security guard at the entrance and opened the door for Brennan. Placing a hand on the small of her back, he guided his partner to his SUV, held the door for her as she clambered inside and then closed it behind her.
They were waiting at an intersection when Booth spoke again.
"Bones, why did you really come?"
"I wanted to… thank you. For everything. Everything you did, everything you said, just… everything."
"You're welcome, Temperance," Booth said softly, glancing at his partner out of the corner of his eye, "But you do know that thanks are really unnecessary."
"I wanted to say it anyway. Gratitude is important."
Booth smiled gently and spun the wheel, as he turned left.
"Booth, I also… I wanted to know and I didn't ask Cullen because I didn't think he'd tell me, considering everything I've been through tonight but…"
"Bones, just spit out."
"Why did he do it? Why did Charlie kill all those women? Who could do such a thing?"
"Charles Vargas could do such a thing. And according to his initial statement to the agents at the scene, he killed those women to save them."
"Save them from what?"
"From becoming like the woman that broke up his family. His father owned a car dealership and had a seemingly happy marriage. But he liked to visit the local strip club on the weekends. Apparently Vargas senior ended up in a relationship with one of the young women from the club. He left his wife and his thirteen-year-old son, Charlie. The stripper ended up stealing Vargas' money and left him. He lost his dealership and lived in a homeless shelter off-and-on for three years. He died of exposure during a cold snap in January; four years after the stripper had left him. Charles had a picture of the woman in his wallet. Want to guess what she looked like?"
"Young, red hair, green eyes," Brennan supplied.
"You got it. Charles seemed to think that the woman who had broken up his parents' marriage was somehow living inside of each of the women he killed, like some strange form of reincarnation. He's got a good chance of succeeding if he uses the insanity plea."
"It's unfortunate what the mistakes of the parents can do to the children," Brennan said quietly.
"Sometimes it's not so unfortunate," Booth said quietly, "sometimes it makes them better."
Brennan mulled over Booth's words for the rest of the drive and was surprised when they stopped. Looking around her, she vaguely recognized her surroundings.
"Booth, this is not my apartment building."
"I know that, Bones."
"This is your apartment building."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Booth muttered, sliding out of the vehicle.
"Captain who?" Brennan demanded as she followed Booth up the sidewalk towards the front door
"Don't worry about it, Bones," Booth said tiredly as he unlocked the door and strode inside.
"Booth, why are we here?"
"Because I'm tired. I do not want to drive to your apartment tonight. In fact, I'm not quite sure I could find your apartment right now. You can crash here tonight and I'll drive you home tomorrow," Booth said, as he punched the up button for the elevator.
"That's logical," Brennan stated and strode into the elevator ahead of Booth.
"I'm sorry, did you just say that one of my ideas was logical?" Booth asked teasingly.
"It happens," Brennan said, a faint smile crossing her lips.
The elevator doors slid open sluggishly on Booth's floor and he led the way to his apartment door, opening it and gesturing for Brennan to go in ahead of him. Brennan stepped inside and watched Booth as he dropped his keys in a bowl on the half-wall by the door and flipped on the lights. He wandered into the kitchen and opened his fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. Brennan remained close to the door, her hands wrapped tightly around the strap of the bag that Angela had brought her. She was suddenly and absurdly nervous. Booth had been in her apartment several times and she doubted he'd ever felt this nervous, why should she?
"Bones?" Booth asked, attempting to hide a smile, "Do you maybe want to come in a little bit further?"
Brennan smiled tightly and nodded.
Booth watched the suddenly awkward forensic anthropologist as she stepped further into his apartment and studied her surroundings. He followed her gaze and let his eyes wander with pride over his well-stocked kitchen and comfortable living area complete with the black leather couches he'd just finished paying off. Feeling his weariness wash over him again, he finished his bottle of water and approached his partner.
"C'mon, I need to take a shower but you can go to sleep now if you want," he said, as he led the way down the short hall towards his bedroom. They passed the open door to Parker's room, toy cars strewn across the floor and glow-in-the-dark stars plastered to the ceiling. Stepping inside his room, Booth was suddenly nervous. Although he'd had several unprofessional daydreams about Brennan being in his bedroom, he'd never thought it would ever actually happen.
Brennan studied Booth's bedroom and decided that it was exactly how she would have pictured the space. The walls were a pale gray that made the dark wood furniture stand out. A large, king-size bed dominated the room with a small table beside it where a picture of a Parker stood and a few books were stacked. Directly opposite the bed was a bureau with a large TV resting on top. The closet doors were closed tightly next to the bureau. Next to the large window that dominated the wall opposite her was a lounge chair. Adjacent to the door they had just entered was another door that led into the private bathroom.
"So you can sleep here for now," Booth said, indicating the bed.
"Actually, I'm not really tired," Brennan said.
"Really?" Booth asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Yeah, the combination of caffeine and painkillers has left me a little wired."
Booth chuckled silently, "Ok, well, I'm going to go take a quick shower. You can watch TV and feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen."
Brennan nodded, setting her bag down by the foot of the bed. Booth watched her for another brief moment and then stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Staring at his reflection in the mirror he let out a deep breath. He needed to relax. He pulled off his t-shirt and was about to shoot it into the laundry basket when he spotted the dark stains on the back. Flattening it out, he realized that it was blood. Brennan's blood. Most likely from the cuts on her wrists caused by the too-tight handcuffs. Staring at the stains he realized for the 179th time that night just how close he'd come to losing her. Closing his eyes, he said a brief prayer of thanks, and then got into the shower. He needed to sleep.
Booth opened the bathroom door and a wide smile creased his face. Brennan was sitting on his bed, her back against the headboard. She was wearing a ragged and loose t-shirt that had Dartmouth emblazoned across the front and a pair of blue, flannel boxer shorts. His gut twisted at the multiple dark purple bruises and angry red welts that were scattered across the length of her exposed legs. Hearing a faint crunching sound, he smiled again at how innocent his partner could be. A yellow bag of Teddy Grahams rested in her lap, and she reached into it, pulling out a few of the small cookies and popped them in her mouth. She was absorbedly watching an episode of "I Dream of Jeannie" on his TV and she smiled when Jeannie blinked out in a huff, leaving Major Nelson wandering around his cramped office calling out Jeannie's name until Roger arrived to ask what was wrong.
"Teddy Grahams, Bones?"
Brennan started at the unexpected voice of her partner and turned to face him. He was wearing a white t-shirt and pale blue pajama bottoms and his hair was damp. Unbidden, the thought crossed her mind of just how attractive her partner really was. Shaking her head, she realized that she hadn't answered his question.
"You said I could have anything that was in the kitchen. I used to love these when I was younger and when I saw the bag in the cupboard I wanted to determine if they were still as delicious as I remembered. They are."
"Parker would agree," Booth said with a smile.
Brennan was about to respond but yawned widely instead.
"Ok, time for you and I to get some sleep," Booth said sternly.
Brennan nodded.
"I am tired now. I'll just put these away," she said, hoisting up the bag of bear-shaped cookies.
Booth watched her slide to the edge of the bed and swing her legs down towards the floor. She winced as one of the bruises on the back of her leg banged against the bed frame. Realizing that his partner was in no shape to sit never mind stand and walk around, he snatched the yellow bag from her hand.
"I'll put these away. You get comfortable," he said lightly.
When Booth returned from the kitchen he stood in the bedroom doorway frowning.
"Bones, what are you doing?"
"Getting comfortable," she replied as she settled down into the lounge chair in the corner.
"Temperance, get into the bed. You are in no condition to be sleeping in a chair," Booth said, a hint of concern in his voice.
"But it's your bed," she protested weakly.
"Thus, I get to decide who sleeps in it. Now go lie down," he ordered.
"I am not sleeping in that bed if it means you have to sleep in this chair," Brennan argued. "You've had just as hard a day as I have and you deserve a good night's sleep. In a bed."
"Yet another impasse," Booth said, wearily, "You won't sleep in the bed if it means I sleep in the chair and I definitely will not let you sleep in the chair."
"We could share the bed," Brennan suggested hesitantly. Seeing a sly grin cross the FBI agent's face, she hurriedly continued on, "It is a large bed and we could easily share it without anything inappropriate happening."
Booth let the opportunity to tease his partner to pass. The offer to share the bed was hard for her, he knew, and so instead he took the offer in the way she had intended it.
"Sharing the bed seems logical," he said seriously and offered her a balancing hand as she stood up from the chair. They both approached opposite sides of the bed and crawled in, two feet of space between them.
"Good night, Booth," Brennan said, her voice already breathy with sleep.
"Good night, Temperance," he whispered to her back and turned off the light.
Brennan awoke slowly and yawned. For a moment she couldn't remember where she was, but when she buried her head in the pillow and the familiar masculine scent overwhelmed her senses, she suddenly recalled all the events of the past twenty-four hours. Her body ached and as she turned her head to gaze at the glaring red numbers on Booth's clock that read 2:00 p.m. she was suddenly aware of another sensation on her body.
The loose t-shirt she was wearing had crept up during her sleep, leaving an expanse of her bare stomach exposed. Booth's arms were wrapped around it. The sensation of his large, warm hand spread over her skin caused a shiver to run up and down her spine that she attempted to ignore. Despite the huge amount of space that had separated them when they'd gone to sleep, they had somehow managed to become intertwined during the night Brennan noted, attempting to be detached about the fact that her partner's arms were wrapped around her and her right ankle was resting on his right calf.
His steady breathing in her left ear suddenly altered, alerting her to the fact that he was slowly awakening. Her eyes widened in surprise when as he awoke he pulled her closer to him and buried his face in her hair.
Booth smiled sleepily. Bones was safe and she was right here in his bed and his arms were wrapped around her. Booth's eyes snapped open at the realization of just how close he was to his partner. His muscles tightened involuntarily in anticipation of the pain he would soon be suffering at her hands.
"Booth?" Brennan asked uncertainly, as she felt the muscles in the arm on her waist go taut.
"Good morning, Bones," Booth said, attempting normalcy.
"You're arms are around my waist."
"Always one for stating the obvious, Bones. How much trouble am I in for?"
Brennan thought for a moment, evaluating the level of pain in all of her muscles and then replied, "None."
Booth's muscles immediately relaxed but he still did not remove his arms. Bones attempted to ignore the ripple of pleasure that passed through her at the idea that he wanted to hold onto her.
"None?" he asked.
"I could give you a rain check, but at the moment I don't even want to think about throwing a punch never mind actually doing it."
"You're pretty sore then?"
"Sore doesn't begin to describe it," Brennan said with a sigh and closed her eyes.
Booth's thumb began to trace soothing circles just below her rib and above her hip. The sensation was… odd Brennan decided and in an effort to distract herself from the sensations he was causing, she continued talking.
"Booth?"
"Yes, Bones?"
"Are you trying to police a feel?"
Booth chuckled and she felt the vibrations of his chest on her back as he spoke.
"It's 'cop a feel', Bones, and I would never do that without a warrant. Unless youinvited me to," he added teasingly.
"Uh… no," Brennan stuttered, feeling suddenly tongue-tied.
Booth smiled at the flustered forensic anthropologist but decided that he'd pushed their boundaries far enough.
"How about I make you breakfast before I drive you home?" he offered as he pulled away from her and slid out of bed. She sat up and smiled at him.
"Breakfast sounds good."
We're almost done. One more chapter after this to tie up the last of the loose ends. So what did you think of this one? Loved it, hated it, skimmed through it? Want to make suggestions for that last chapter? You know what button to push.
