Chapter: 5
Okay Small Notification:
I thought I had posted this 12 days ago and then again last night, but apparently my computer hates me and in a bout of foolishness I walked away thinking that the story was posted. Note to self and others never just assume document has been posted always check. This also occurred with my Sherlock story in case any of you were reading that one as well.
*facepalm*
Sorry guys. :(
Your guys' reviews are awesome. I really appreciate those. Thanks :)! This is only my second fanfiction and I hope this one meets your expectations.
To clarify there are nine slabs of stone. Six of them are males, two females, and the last is the man who has a visible skull. And, for those who are guessing who the man missing a face is, I'll give you a hint.
It's not Mourgause.
To the Dragon! Nanananaananan…Merlin!
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Bones but if my plan for world domination goes well…
Dr. Patrick's cool gray eyes went wide momentarily when he realized Dr. Brennan was being serious in saying she was going to defy his direct orders. The gray hue suddenly burned red as realization overcame him.
How dare her!
Brennan stood in front of the foreign doctor awaiting the confrontation she had expected. She rolled her eyes when his shocked expression slowly turned to a burning fury.
"Now see here, Miss Brennan, you have no right to destroy the historical artifacts of my heritage!" Dr. Patrick stated, barely keeping his voice below a shout and enunciation on the 'miss'. "I know you American's are careless with your own heritage, but I will not let you destroy mine as well!"
Brennan stared at the doctor directly in the eyes through his entire rant. Her face was blank, but in her eyes one could see a rage that matched the British doctor standing before her. The way he swung his thick accent made her want to punch the man so his nose was even more crooked, but she held her composure.
"Mr. Patrick. You have asked my team and I to gather all we could of the bodies inside the stone, have you not?" Brennan responded calmly, but with equal amount of enunciation on the 'Mr'. She stood tall, her head up, and her arms relaxed at her sides. A small flash of fear crossed Dr. Patrick's eyes before it was engulfed in the red rampage.
"Now see here M-" he began to say.
"No, Mr. Patrick. You listen," Brennan interrupted. Dr. Patrick's eyebrows raised as his lips pursed. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but Brennan's was already moving.
"You asked us to determine when the bodies were placed in the stone and the tests will be back shortly, that much we can solve from the exposed remains, but you also wanted to know why the bodies were encased in the stone in the first place. How do you expect us to know this without letting us fully examine the bodies?" Dr. Patrick's mouth opened once again, but Brennan continued.
"I am positive you have seen the x- rays?"
Dr. Patrick opened his mouth but was once again silenced.
"You have seen the special circumstances of this situation. If these remains are in fact from the same era as the male, skeletal remains, one thousand years old, and they are in fact completely intact, both bone and tissue, they are a scientific achievement that has yet to be documented."
"That does-"
"It is unreasonable to think that these remains belong to one man, one country for that matter. These remains are a scientific anomaly that belongs to the scientific community. They should be documented and studied, not kept in the dark because a simple- minded primate decided to claim it for himself with an egotistical agenda in mind," Brennan told the doctor with a secret fire in her eyes and a blank expression.
Dr. Patrick's jaw clenched. His hands balled into fists at his side. His face burned red with the embers of a thousand suns. He took a deep breath to calm himself then looked at the younger scientist. She looked unfazed. It infuriated him. He took another calming breath and realized something. Suddenly he took on a smug smile.
"I'm afraid you won't be able to do that Miss Brennan. You see you need the permission of my department in order to do that, and since I represent my department, I say you will not destroy these historical artifacts just to advance your name in the National Geographic," he stated smugly.
Brennan's eyebrows rose as she crossed her arms over her chest. She looked directly into the smug look of his eyes. He thinks he won. Her brow settled down into a determined stare. Oh how wrong he is.
"I see," Brennan said then swiftly turned on her heel. She walked straight past the platform entrance and the stares of her observing colleagues, and entered her office, closing the door behind her. All of the eyes on the platform looked over the rail at the naïve Dr. Patrick, who was walking towards the recently brought in slab that had been forgotten in the corner. And all eyes watched as the two interns and he wheeled the heavy stone into the back hallway of the building.
"Where's he going?" Hodgins asked Cam once the doctor was out of view. Cam stared after the annoying English man. She shook her head and looked over her shoulder at the rest of her team, the fake 'I'm the Boss' smile reappearing.
"Whatever he wants to do, they're his remains," Cam told them as her arms swung forward so her hands could clasp in front of her. Hodgins's brow rose as his head tilted in his natural suspecting, suspicious manner.
"Let's get back to work," Cam commanded calmly. Hodgins glanced towards the back hallway before forcing his eyes to fall back on the soil reports of the area where the remains were found.
Cam walked back over to the monitor, but her eyes also wandered to the back of the lab.
"Ang-," Hodgins began to call Angela over to take a look at a spore sample, but she was already walking down the platform stairs.
Angela walked into Brennan's office to see her best friend sitting at her desk and speaking to someone on her phone.
"Please notify me when you do," Brennan told the mystery person. She held up a finger, signally Angela to wait a moment. Angela sighed, tilted her head, yet still kept her knowing smile.
It could be tough, having a genius for a friend, especially Brennan. She always wondered how Angela and she were friends, but Angela never really doubted it. The moment she questioned it, she remembered that even though they had a different mind set they were in essence of the same soul. Even if Brennan refused to believe in the spiritual aspects of life, the universe had meant them to be friends and that is what they would be.
"Sweetie," Angela said as Brennan put the phone back on the desk and began to jot something down on a notepad. She wore her usual work face: serious and concentrated.
"Yes?" Brennan asked once she finished writing.
"What's going on?" Brennan looked up at her and quickly back at the writing.
"Dr. Patrick is an arrogant man," Brennan stated with a tad of spite in her voice. Angela walked over and sat down on the couch by the window which gave a view of the rest of the lab.
"Well, you're not the Queen of Modesty either, Sweetie," Angela pointed out in a friendly manner. Brennan's eyes looked up, but she swiftly returned her gaze to the words sprawled across the paper. Angela realized she touched something.
"Come on, tell me what's wrong," Angela pleaded in a soft voice as she inclined back on the couch.
Brennan didn't look up this time.
"Sweetie?" Angela coaxed her on after a few silent moments. Brennan looked up, this time with her whole head. When she met with Brennan's blue eyes, Angela's heart hurt. She knew that look. It was the look her friend got when she was down on herself.
"Am I a monster?" Brennan asked with a frown on her face. Angela sighed. She never knew why her friend was so down on herself. Sure she had horrible people skills but she was one of the most good hearted of people anyone could meet.
"Of course not," Angela stated in a matter of fact tone, but the sorrow in her friend's eyes stayed.
"Have I ever called you an idiot?" Angela's eyes widened at that question.
"No, of course you haven't."
"Have I ever called one of my students an idiot?"
"I've never heard you call anyone of the interns an idiot. Why are you asking, Honey?" Brennan looked down at the paper once more, then back at her friend.
"I overheard Dr. Patrick speaking to one of his interns over the phone…"
"Brennan, listen to me," Angela stood smiling reassuringly in front of the desk when Brennan lifted her head up. "You can be a little…say blunt at times, yeah. But come on we all have our faults."
Bones looked up at her friend, the sad, confused tilt of her head still present. Her mouth remained in a hard frown. Angela could see she was about to argue, but Angela beat her to it.
"I mean look at Hodgins. He has that whole conspiracy obsession," Angela quickly stated pointing out the doors towards the platform where the curly haired man was working oblivious to the two women talking about him.
"That's different," Brennan responded frankly. "His faults do not hurt others."
"Hey speak for yourself! My poor eardrums still hurt from that last spout of the Flour Contract," Angela giggled with exaggerated eye roll. She saw a smile appear on the doctor's face that just barely reached her friend's eyes.
Honestly, cheering Brennan up was harder than her actual job at times.
"Come on Sweetie, you know what I'm saying is true. You're not Dr. Sleazebag, I mean did you see how he was drooling over those young interns, creepy old perv," Angela made her closing argument with a disgusted look which transformed into a heartening smile and glint in her eyes. The message must have reached her friend because Brennan's face returned to a perceptive smile which overtook her eyes as well.
"Thanks Angela," Brennan said softly. Suddenly the sliding doors opened and Booth walked into the anthropologist's office. His face was in a stern grimace. Both women turned their baffled expressions towards the newcomer.
"Booth?" Brennan questioned his grim facial expression. He looked down at his partner still sitting in her office chair.
"Nothing," he mumbled to the concerned faces surrounding him. Truth was his boss had just rung him out on how he and Bones had handled the Ague Case. He had told the director and DA that the man was going to attack both his partner and the little girl, but apparently he had gone against protocol by shooting his unarmed accomplice in the hand. Booth looked at both women's eyes and feigned a smile. No reason to tell Bones about his problems.
Bones stared as her partner's scowl turned into an obvious false smile. She wanted to question him further on the matter, but decided against doing so in front of Angela. Booth didn't like looking weak or flustered in front of others, even if it was just them. She would question him later when no one else was around, the next time they are at the Founding Fathers perhaps, which would probably be later in the day.
"What's up with the squints," Booth asked, drawing away from his awkward entrance. Bones looked back down at her writing and smiled evilly. She had forgotten what she had come in here to do. Her two friends did not miss the devilish look appear on her face.
"Sweetie what are you up to," Angela questioned her mouth turning into a questioning line. Booth crossed his arms and walked, to stand by Angela, facing the beaming doctor. Brennan looked up at the artist and agent before her. She placed her overlapping arms on the desk and smiled up at them.
"Oh no, what have you done," Angela asked her mouth gaping open just a bit. Booth looked at the exasperated look on Angela's face and his eyebrows rose in confusion. He had missed something: again.
"Bones?" Booth returned his eyes to his partner, who still wore that creepy smile on her face. Brennan's eyes switched between the two faces.
"You'll see," Brennan answered mysteriously as she stood up. Angela shared a concerned look with Booth.
"Uh, Sweetie, I don't know what you're up to but," Angela stopped when she saw that Brennan was already walking up the platform stairs. Angela sighed and shook her head. She too went out the glass doors, Booth following behind her.
A hallway and a few doors down Dr. Patrick was celebrating his victory over the 'idiot American doctor' by examining one of the stone slabs containing female remains. As he looked down at the woman's angular face, he couldn't help but to admire the particular 'features' the woman had had when she had been alive. He smiled to himself when he realized he would have gladly been this princess's courtier.
He looked up at the empty examination room he was in. He found the great amount of clear drawers a little bizarre as they contained various bones, but he only shrugged and returned to his slab which was completely covering the top of the examination table before him. Around the statue's mid-section he found what he had been looking for. He looked back at the image on the computer screen behind him, it was a blown up x-ray of the female remains before him: a very peculiar x-ray at that.
He smiled. This was the reason he had been looking at the remains in the first place. This was way too important and remarkable for an American, even if his 'superiors' disagreed. That is why he hadn't told Dr. Saron that he wasn't given clearance to look at these remains. It was his job, and he was still quite irritated by his department's lack of faith in him. He was the best in his field, was he not? It's not like an American, a woman at that, could do a better job at him. She just threw her words around to make herself seem clever. In reality she was probably just as big of a ditz as all of the other women he met; although he rather liked those types of women in some aspects.
He shook the thoughts out of his mind. Women are not something that should be on his mind while he was working. He looked back at the statue before him. The woman's hair flailed out wildly around her cranium. Her face was curved into a look of concentration, her lips curving into a tantalizing, unwavering smile which sent a shiver down his spine. Her brow lowered to create a look of determination that nearly covered her stone eyes that were wide open and staring into his on gazing ones.
It was hard to keep women out of his mind when such a beautiful specimen lay right in front of him.
He looked back at the monitor to his left, then lowered his field of view to her midsection where the cause of his disobedience. The bulging shape of the rock protruded from the stone hand three inches from her stomach.
He smiled down at the tools lying on the small metal tray next to the slab. He picked up the chisel and rubber mallet. He placed the slanted chisel end at the object's tip which jutted out from the outer part of her hand. He raised the hammer up to the height of his shoulder. With a swish of his wrist the hammer came down on the cold metal, flat circular target of the chisel.
With a satisfying crack he moved the chisel along the object's outline to reveal the dark line that led into the tomb. He was about to hit down on the tool once more when a thought came to his mind. He quickly set down the tools on the metal tray, not noticing the airy sound whistling through the inch long crack.
His eyes shot towards the screen, and he let out a sigh of relief. The remains were intact. In a bout of foolishness he had gone through with procedure, forgetting that he was working with remains as well as the artifact. It had been a while since he had worked with bones instead of artifacts, but he still should have remembered.
It was that blasted woman! She's a distraction. He thought, turning his relief into a scowl.
He cursed in his head, so distracted with his detestation for the American doctor, that he didn't notice the air to swirl around the opening. At some point in his angry rambling he stopped and, with a puzzled look, stared at the computer screen.
Why didn't the air affect the thousand- year- old remains?
He moved closer to the screen to search for any fluctuations of the body, but he could find none. His brow tightened into a line.
How is this possible?
Then he heard the faint whistle of the air coming from nowhere. He looked around the room wide-eyed, walking to every corner and taking special precaution around the air vents. He finally turned his attention to the crack when he walked past it and a cool feeling overcame him. He tilted his head to the right, and then lowered it so his face was at eye level of the crack. His eyes widened more when he realized air was being pushed out of the slot. The whistle sound increased as the air blew faster into his face. He stepped back as a jolt of the cold wind bit his ear.
He stood there starring at the hole. The whistle turned into a high pitched sound. He suddenly felt a shock of pain run through his ears. Instinctively he raised his hand to protect his eardrums from the ever growing shrieking.
The sound was ringing at an even higher octave when he felt the sticky substance of blood on his palms, but he dare not remove the only defensive he had in order to check. It wasn't for a few seconds that the old man fell to the floor with his eyes closed.
A/N: So I don't know what to think of that conversation with Angela and Bones.
Conversations between those two are not the easiest to write for. There are some underlining characteristics and meanings between the two which are hard to convey.
Please comment and feel free to read my other stories as well.
The next update will be within the next three days, and I will update every three days after that.
Thanks for reading :)!