Moments—Chapter 4
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters except Sean.
Author's notes: I was pleasantly surprised by the number of reviews giving Brennan the go ahead to sleep with Dr. Hottie. (wipes off some of the fruit that was thrown by a few readers) To those of you who didn't really like her falling into bed with him, I appreciate that you did not throw anything that really hurt. Sorry for the delay in updating but between work and well, more work, it couldn't be helped. Please read, enjoy and let me know what you think.
Oh and amyrb—your reviews can be as short or as long as you wish. I enjoy reading your comments either way.
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Brennan shifted slightly in her slumber as she felt a hand begin to caress her back. The hand was replaced by a pair of soft lips that started in the middle of her back and traveled slowly up to her right shoulder and then the side of her neck.
"Good morning," Sean whispered in her ear.
Morning? Brennan's eyes flew open and focused on the clock sitting on the nightstand. She pulled away from Sean and reached for the clock. "It's nine o'clock in the morning?"
Tossing the covers to the side, Brennan climbed off the bed and began gathering her clothes to get dressed. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"
"You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn't have the heart to wake you…Temperance, slow down." He climbed off the bed and grabbed her hand.
She pulled her hand away and stared at him. "I have to get to the lab Sean. Booth and I have a case…"
"I'm…I'm sorry. You just seemed like you needed the rest…"
She continued to button her blouse as her eyes scanned the room for her jacket and shoes. "Good luck with your Stanford interview," she said as she crossed the room and slipped her boots on her feet.
"Actually I think I'm going to forgo the Stanford interview and take the position with the Jeffersonian…if you're okay with that." He watched as she paused, letting the information sink in.
"Don't factor me or what happened between us last night into your career decisions Sean." Her eyes bore into his. "I don't have the time or the inclination for a relationship right now. If you want to work at the Jeffersonian, that's great; the department will be lucky to have you."
She grabbed her jacket and walked out the bedroom door with Sean trailing behind her. "Temperance, I'm sorry…that's not what I meant." He placed his hand on the door of the suite as she moved to open it. "I'm not going to lie and say that I wouldn't love for something more to happen between us, but I remember very clearly your views on marriage and relationships." He sighed as he continued, "I've decided that the Jeffersonian has better equipment and obviously better funding—I would be insane to go anywhere else."
"Why would you care if I was okay with that?"
He sighed and moved his hand from the door to caress the side of her face. "I asked you that because I didn't want you to think that last night factored into my decision….looks like I failed there, huh?"
She smiled at him as she removed his hand from her face. "From a scientific point of view, it's better to collect all of the data from the available sources and study the findings before committing to one possible conclusion."
Sean narrowed his eyes at her and grinned. "You managed to spout that out at this early hour?"
Opening the door, she moved past him. "It's not early…especially since I'm running late."
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Booth entered the lab with Katie's file in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He was willing to risk Brennan's wrath about food and drink in the lab area this morning for the much needed caffeine. Upon seeing that her office door was closed and there were no lights on, he turned his attention to the platform.
"Here kid," he said as he tossed the file to Zach after ascending the stairs. "I've identified our Jane Doe."
"You know Bren doesn't allow food or drink on the platform areas Booth," Angela stated as she took the file from Zach's hand. "Katie Stonestreet…poor girl…"
"Yeah," Booth agreed softly. "So where's Bones? I tried to call her last night to let her know I matched your sketch to our victim but she didn't answer."
"She's running late, man," Hodgins offered as he and Angela shared a knowing look.
"Bones is running late? Is she all right?" He lowered the coffee cup from his lips, concern for his partner evident in his eyes.
"Hodgins and Angela have a theory that her tardiness is somehow correlated to sex," Zach explained.
"Kid, all women run late sooner or later…anthropological inevitability." He smiled at his own explanation as he brought his coffee to his lips again.
"No, Agent Booth I don't mean sex as in 'gender', I mean sex as in 'got some'," the protégé patiently explained.
Booth choked on the coffee as it began to slide down his throat. Angela's jaw dropped and she glanced over at Hodgins. "Did you teach him that?"
Hodgins pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. "Our little boy is growing up."
Booth continued to cough and sputter as he spotted Brennan entering the lab at ten o'clock. She quickly made her way to her office and just as quickly exited her office in her lab coat, pulling her hair into a ponytail.
"Morning sweetie," Angela said as Brennan joined them. "Booth found out who our victim is." She handed the file to Brennan who quietly read through it.
"Bones you're late…"
"And you're drinking coffee in my lab," she countered as she continued to read the file. Actually, she found herself wishing that she had stopped at the coffee shop near her apartment after she had showered and changed clothes.
"Did you oversleep?"
"Yes."
Angela and Hodgins watched the exchange with great interest. "How was your dinner with Dr. Weatherman last night?" Hodgins asked. He immediately regretted the question as soon as Angela placed her elbow sharply in his sternum.
"Good," Brennan answered.
"You had dinner with him last night? Was it a 'working dinner'?" Booth asked as he used air quotes to indicate his sarcasm.
Brennan stared at him as she placed the file on the table. "Yes, 'partly'," she answered, also using air quotes.
"Why are you using air quotes?"
"Because you did."
"But I was being….okay, you know what? Never mind, Bones. Grab your bag and jacket, we're going to Dover." He grabbed the file and stormed off the platform.
"What's his problem?" She watched as Booth exited the lab. Obviously he intended for her to meet him outside.
"You were tardy," Zach explained.
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"She had dinner with him…she slept with him….," he muttered to himself as he climbed into the SUV. He knew that he had no right to be as angry as he was but he couldn't help himself. Just when he had reached the conclusion that he wanted Temperance Brennan in his life as more than his partner or his friend, another man comes along and steals his chance. Any possible moment between them was lost.
He saw her exit the lab and take a deep breath before trekking toward the SUV. She seemed hesitant to join him and he realized that his behavior may have offended her. Brennan opened the passenger's door and placed her bag on the floorboard before climbing inside.
They rode along in an uncomfortable silence for thirty minutes before Booth finally spoke. "Did you and what's his face have a nice dinner last night?"
Brennan stared out the window and sighed. "Perhaps our partnership would be more effective if we didn't discuss our personal lives."
His grip tightened on the steering wheel. "I was just asking if you had a nice dinner Bones. It's not like I was asking if he was any good in bed." The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he had said.
She turned her face toward him, her eyes narrowed. "It would be a good idea to discontinue this conversation…"
"Or what?"
"Or perhaps we would have to discuss how your sexual relationship with Dr. Saroyan could potentially affect our cases."
Booth nearly ran off the road as she disclosed her knowledge of his activities with her boss.
"How did…I…I was going to…."
"Booth, I believe that our time would be better spent concentrating on the case at hand instead of who is sleeping with whom." She returned her focus to the passenger's side window.
There was only one person who could have told her—Booth made a silent vow to kill Angela when he returned to the lab.
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The trip should have taken a little over two hours but road construction and traffic jams lengthened their tense journey by another hour and a half. Brennan had managed to stay focused on the case file or their surroundings while Booth drove. She could sense his need to talk to her. Her peripheral vision caught him several times turning his head as if to speak and then quickly turning his attention back to the road, as if he was revising what he had intended to say.
Brennan realized that she was being silly and somewhat vindictive but there was a part of her—a part that had tossed aside all logic—that wanted Booth to hurt as much as she did. Wait, hurt? Why would I be hurt by him sleeping with Cam? No, I'm not hurt…I'm disappointed. Of all the people he could have chosen, he resorts to his ex-lover who happens to be my boss. No, I'm not hurt. As much as she tried to convince herself of that, Brennan couldn't shake the newfound feeling.
Booth slowed the SUV as they entered a nice working class neighborhood and watched as children played in a few of the front yards along the street. He stopped the vehicle in front of a quaint one story home and glanced over at Brennan.
"1287 Pleasant Street."
She glanced down at the file, noting the address and nodded. "It's not going to be very pleasant today…"
The couple quickly climbed out of the SUV. Booth moved swiftly to catch up with his partner, placing his hand on the small of her back. He felt her stiffen under his touch but he refused to move his hand.
"Temperance, I am really sorry about…you know. I just…it sorta happened…"
"Booth, now is not the time to discuss this," she whispered as they approached the door. She reached out and pressed the doorbell before he could respond. The crestfallen expression on his face tugged at her heart and she quickly turned away from him.
A large overweight man answered the door with a cigarette in his mouth and a beer in his hand. "We don't want whatever you're sellin'." He moved to shut the door but was stopped by Booth who waved his badge in front of the man.
"Mr. Carl Stonestreet? I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth and this is my partner Dr. Temperance Brennan."
The man's eyes narrowed as he blew smoke in the agent and anthropologist's faces. Brennan lowered her head and coughed. "Yeah…what's the FBI doin' here at my door?"
"It's about Katie, sir. May we come in?"
"Ka…Katie," he muttered softly.
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Carl and his wife Margie sat in the chairs across from Booth and Brennan, who had settled together on a small loveseat. Margie Stonestreet remained very still throughout the conversation and Brennan knew the gaunt woman was in shock. Thus far, they had learned that Katie had been a rebellious teenager whose angry behavior had hurt her family. She had packed a small bag of clothes one night two years ago, climbed out her bedroom window in the middle of the night and ran away.
"And you're sure that it's Katie?" Carl continued to ball his right fist as though he wanted to punch something.
"I would like to collect DNA swabs from both of you to ensure the identity of the remains…" Brennan paused upon noticing Booth's glare. It was "the look"—the one that told her she was being an insensitive cold scientist and wasn't "human" enough. Generally that look made her feel inadequate but today…today it angered her. She narrowed her eyes and returned a look of her own.
"There ain't no point in gettin' my DNA. I ain't Katie's real father…I adopted her when she was six after me and Margie got married."
Booth nodded and glanced over at Margie. "Mrs. Stonestreet, are you okay with submitting to a DNA test?"
The frail woman nodded slightly. "Of course," she whispered.
Brennan removed the necessary implements from her bag and approached Margie. She opened the cotton tipped swab and instructed the woman, in a soft voice, to open her mouth. After retrieving her samples, Brennan stood and faced Booth indicating that she was ready to leave.
"Have you talked to Katie's boyfriend yet?" Carl asked just before he took a long swig of his beer.
"Boyfriend? Do you know his name?" Booth opened his small notepad, preparing to write down the information.
"Lucas Barnes….he's the piece of crap she ran away with. Last I heard the weasel was living in DC. He's a struggling artist or some stupid thing like that." He crushed the beer can in left hand and slammed it down on the table. "I can guarantee that he killed my baby."
"We'll talk to him, sir." Booth closed his notepad and placed it his back pocket. "Thank you for your time." He motioned for Brennan to move toward the door.
Once they were outside, she took a deep breath of air in an effort to clear her lungs of the second hand smoke she had inhaled inside the residence.
"Okay," Booth began as he clapped his hands together, "we've got a real good suspect at the top of the list now…"
"The boyfriend? You've not even talked to him and you assume that he's guilty." She walked swiftly along the walkway toward the SUV. A slight drizzle had begun to fall while they had conducted their interview and dark clouds had made their way above the town.
He heard thunder booming in the distance as he jogged to catch up with her. "Well who else is there? She ran away with him and she ends up dead, buried in a wall…I don't think my assumption is off base here Bones."
They paused at the passenger's door of the SUV and stared at each other for a moment. "I just think it's better to wait and have all of the facts before jumping to conclusions," Brennan said in a soft voice.
His expression softened. "Are you referring just to the case or…?"
She turned away from him and opened the door, hoping that he would take the hint to drop the still very sore subject of his relationship with Cam. He stood outside the door and watched as she buckled her seatbelt before slowly walking to the driver's side and entering the vehicle.
"It's almost four o'clock Bones. Let's stop and have something to eat before we get back to DC."
"I'm not hungry. Let's just go back to the lab." She stared out the window at the Stonestreet's home, watching the light from the television cast shadows on the thin curtains.
Expelling a long breath, Booth started the vehicle and pulled away from the curb. "Have it your way Bones," he said softly.
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The rain pelted the SUV violently as Booth slowly drove along the road. Most of the other vehicles had pulled off onto the sides of the road to wait out the storm. The windshield wipers were on full blast as was the defrost in an effort to clear the fog that had accumulated on the windows inside the SUV.
"I can't see a damn thing," he muttered.
Brennan removed a towel from her bag and began wiping down the inside of the front windshield. She moved closer to Booth, placing her hand on his leg to balance herself as she cleared his side of the windshield. He took the opportunity to breathe in the scent of her perfume mingled with the scent of her shampoo. He frowned the moment she removed her hand and moved back to her seat.
"Thanks Bones."
She simply nodded in response as she placed the towel back in her bag.
"Is there anything you don't have in there my little Girl Scout?" he teased as he switched on his hazard lights and continued to slowly move along the road, which was quickly flooding.
"I was never a Girl Scout."
"It was a joke Bones…" A loud popping noise interrupted their banter as Booth struggled to keep the SUV from going off the road. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel after he had managed to stop the vehicle. "That's just great!"
"What?"
"We've got a flat tire."
Brennan stared at him for a moment, digesting the tidbit of information until she came to a logical conclusion. "Well, get out and change it."
"In this typhoon?!"
"This is not a typhoon. It's a thunderstorm that has created a potential flood threat…"
Booth opened the door and climbed out of the SUV before she could continue her weather forecast. The cold rain soaked his clothing instantly, causing his shirt and pants to stick to his lean form. Water seeped into his shoes and crawled up his pant legs as he moved to the back of the SUV to retrieve the jack and the spare tire.
"It's not a typhoon…it's a thunderstorm…" he mimicked Brennan. "Did Sean the meteorologist teach her that in bed last night?" He snickered at his own joke—Weatherman, meteorologist. His sense of humor vanished when he opened the back of the SUV and discovered that there was no spare tire in the compartment.
"Hey Bones, you wouldn't happen to have a spare tire in that bag would ya?"
"Booth I think it's fairly obvious that a tire could not fit into this bag…wait, you don't have a spare?" She twisted around in her seat and stared at her very wet, very angry partner.
"You wanna get out of the nice dry car and check for yourself?"
Brennan leaned down and removed a small umbrella from her bag. She quickly made her way around the vehicle and joined Booth, who glared at her.
"You had an umbrella and you didn't offer it to me?"
She smirked at him. "You didn't ask if I had an umbrella. You asked if I had a spare tire," she stated as she examined the empty contents of the back compartment.
His jaw clenched as he removed his cell phone from his jacket and tried to dial a number. "No service," he growled as the rain rolled off of Brennan's umbrella onto the top of his head. "What about yours?"
She slid her cell phone from her jacket and checked the small screen. "Same thing—no service."
"Let's start walking." He slammed the rear door of the SUV as hard as he could to relieve some of his frustration.
"Wait! Start walking? Where?" Brennan stood for a second and watched as Booth stalked away from her and the SUV.
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Fifteen long miserable minutes later, they reached the motel that Booth had seen earlier in the day. It was a rundown, cheap, rent a room by the hour kind of place but it offered shelter from the storm and it had a diner next door.
Booth glanced over at Brennan and smirked. Her long hair was plastered to her head and her clothes were as soaked as his. Her little umbrella had not been a match for the ferocity of the rain and wind. He nearly burst into a fit of laughter as he looked down at her right pant leg that was covered with mud. The memory of her stepping directly into the mud hole was extremely amusing—well at least to him. Booth watched her shiver and his amusement was momentarily curbed.
"Booth," she said as her teeth chattered, "we cannot stay here."
They moved swiftly through the parking lot. "And why not?"
"They rent rooms by the hour. Even I know what that means…"
"Care to share how you know what that means?" His lame attempt at humor earned a glare from his partner. "Look Bones, it's a warm, dry place to stay for the evening. Plus we can get something to eat next door…"
"Or at the very least food poisoning," she countered.
"Bones…"
"Fine." She watched as he opened the door to the small lobby area and motioned for her to go in first. "It couldn't get much worse, could it?"
"That's the spirit!" He rang the small bell sitting on the counter to announce their presence.
An elderly gentleman approached the counter, offering them a smile. "Well hello there folks…"
"Hi, we need two rooms for the evening please." Booth retrieved his wallet from his soaked pants and watched as water poured from the inside of the wallet onto the floor.
"Oh, I'm sorry, we've only got one left," he informed them. "What with the weather and then our regular customers…" He winked at Booth.
Brennan tapped Booth's shoulder to get his attention. "I think it just got worse."
Author's notes: Sorry to leave you hanging there…okay, not really. (laughs maniacally) That's payback for some of the fruit that was tossed my way. (wink) Now I'm off to work on the next chapter of "A Pain That I'm Used To" so that maybe, hopefully I can post it later tonight or sometime tomorrow. Leave a review and let me know what you think so far…