A.N.: Now, those of you who have read my House fic, "Reputation", are probably saying to yourselves, "She hasn't finished posting the rest of that story; when did she have time to crank out this one?" Well, truth be told, I started "Reputation" before leaving a job in '05, wrote this whole thing at the end of '06/beginning of '07 at another job, and started to post "Reputation" without finishing it (sorry!!). This story is complete, and I hope you guys enjoy it while I try to get my lazy arse to finish the first one…
Dreams To Dream
Chapter One
Her mind was chaotic. She was somewhere…in a place that wasn't her home, the lab, a crime scene. Somewhere she had never been.
She was on her knees, hands raised in the air. Hoping to keep the person pointing the gun at her from firing.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked desperately. No answer was given.
The person shot.
Temperance Brennan bolted upright from her bed. Sweat beaded all over; her breathing was ragged; her whole body shook.
Brennan had seen mass carnage, been in hostile situations, and had nearly been killed on several occasions. But the dream she'd just expelled herself from was one of the most frightening things she'd ever experienced.
Because Agent Seeley Booth was the person who'd shot her.
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The forensic anthropologist headed straight for her office the minute she entered the Jeffersonian. Her mantra all morning had been: It is empirically impossible that Booth would shoot me. I'm his partner. I've done nothing illegal. It was a stupid dream. He would never shoot me…
The Logical part of her kept repeating these words, and telling her that dreams were simply part of the subconscious. But another faction replayed how real the dream felt. The fear of seeing Booth standing there, eyes burning, aiming his gun straight at her. The pain of the bullet piercing her flesh. And worst of all, the hurt of being shot by someone she considered a very good friend, sometimes more. All of this was enough to quash Logic.
"Knock knock," came a voice at Brennan's door.
"Come in."
Angela smiled as she entered. "Morning. Got your report?"
"Report?" Brennan asked, confused.
"On the case we just finished? Sasha Anderson, the girl in the sewer?" Angela refreshed her friend's memory, with a puzzled look herself.
The figurative light bulb came on in the doctor's mind. "My report…oh, no. It's sitting on my counter at home." She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. "I didn't…sleep too well last night, and I must have forgotten all about it."
"That's not like you." Said Angela. "I mean, you've had bad nights of sleep before, but—"
"I know," interrupted Brennan, eyes open again. "I will get the report on my break. And I won't forget next time."
Folding her arms across her chest, Angela said, "Tell me what's really wrong."
Brennan sighed. "Is Booth here yet?"
Angela shook her head. "No, not yet. Why?"
"Close the door."
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"Wow." Stated Angela.
Brennan had described her dream to her friend, who had listened intently. "I don't know what I'd be like if I had a dream with Hodgins doing that to me. Of course, he'd probably ask about the specifics of the gun." Brennan gave a half-smile.
"Well, anyway, that's the reason I'm not myself today, and why I've sort of been 'hiding out' in here. I don't think I can face Booth right away."
Angela frowned. "But it was only a dream. None of it really happened."
"That's what I keep telling myself." Brennan agreed. "But it's still very…raw, right now."
"Sweetie, I bet if you just told Booth about it, you'd feel better." Angela insisted, tilting her head to the side and giving her friend a hopeful smile.
"Maybe. Later." Standing from her place in her desk chair, Brennan said, "Duty calls."
The two exited her office; Zack passed by them.
"Agent Booth is here, Dr. Brennan," he reported as he made his way down the stairs. Brennan looked slightly alarmed.
"Ange, can you keep him distracted for a little while? I'm…I'll be…away, for a few minutes." She was already taking a step back.
"What is this, junior high?" questioned Angela in disbelief.
Brennan gained more distance. "Just stall him. Please!"
She disappeared around the corner and Angela made a face. Quickly turning, she slammed right into Booth.
"Angela." He did not look happy. "Where is Bones?"
The artist attempted to say something remotely plausible. "Oh, she's in the bathroom. You know how we girls are."
Booth raised a brow, but at least he seemed to buy it.
"Tell her to meet me in the lab when she's done. A body turned up under the bleachers of West Payton High's football field. We need to get out there ASAP."
"Will do," promised Angela, a little more cheerfully than she'd intended. Booth gave her a Look, then turned and went back the way he'd come.
"ASAP!" He repeated.
Dousing the smile plastered on her face, Angela went in search of her friend. Brennan had actually gone farther than Angela expected; she was on a bench in the gardens outside, absently toying with the stem of a flower. When she glanced up and saw Angela, the scientist asked, "What did he say?"
"Well, Kagome, let's just say Inuyasha totally wants you to come back through the Well."
"Okay, I really don't know what that means."
Angela joined the other woman on the bench, and they were silent for a moment before Brennan queried, "Was he mad?"
"Booth is always mad." Angela smirked. "It's his thing."
"No, I mean, was he mad…at me?" Brennan actually looked a little scared.
"Honey, I don't think there's much you could do to make Seeley Booth mad at you." Putting her arm around Brennan, Angela continued. "He did say there was a body at West Payton High School, and he was very eager to have you come with him and check it out. Made it pretty clear it was a matter of urgency, so you might want to get going. He's in the lab, waiting for you."
Brennan stood, thinking aloud. "If I leave right now, I might be done before Booth starts to get suspicious…"
"What?" Angela stood as well. "This is silly. You can't avoid him forever."
"Then just give me a 15-minute head start. I'm certain I can make my assessments in the time it takes for Booth to arrive." At her friend's silent yet skeptical response, Brennan assured her, "It won't be forever, Angela. Just until I can shake this thing from my psyche."
Angela exhaled, then nodded. "Fine. 15 minutes."
As Brennan left for the crime scene, the artist groaned inwardly. This is going to be fun…