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Chapter 2
Temperance Brennan had never felt this tired in her life; or so relieved. She hadn't allowed herself to miss any of her friends during her 'vacation,' but she had to admit that opening that door and seeing her partner there had almost reduced her to tears.
She was being irrational, she'd told herself as she'd hugged Booth, but the past forty-eight hours had been too much. Even for her.
Walking silently to the bedroom of the suite, she awkwardly reached for the very unhappy infant in the makeshift crib that sat next to the king-sized bed. It was still strange and uncomfortable, holding something alive so close, but the fact that the crying stopped right away made her feel better. In the past, any time a child cried in her presence, she would feel annoyed; now she only felt guilt when it began and happiness when she could make this child feel safer.
She started to really dread going back to the living room and facing Booth, but the sound of him clearing his throat behind her told her she wasn't going to have to. The look of shock on his face was almost more than she could take.
"Bones, don't look now, but I think you are holding an infant."
It was lamer than usual for him, but she still smiled nonetheless. "Is that what this is?" She joked back, taking a seat on the bed. To her surprise, Booth followed after a minute or two, sitting next to her. "Thank you," she said in a whisper.
"You're welcome," Booth said without hesitation, before adding, "but I should probably know what you're thankful for. And while you're at it, please explain why I'm in Switzerland while you hold a baby."
"I named her Hannah," she explained first, hoping he wouldn't mind the non sequitur. "Thank you for coming, Booth. You are here because I need your help. We need your help." She cradled the baby, moving Hannah again - unsure what was more comfortable. Brennan just needed to look into those sharp blue eyes to reassure herself that she wasn't going crazy, that turning her life upside down for this orphan was worth it.
"The kind of help that can land us both in a federal prison?"
She nodded. "Or worse," she added with a weak smile. Going into exposition mode, she took a deep breath: "I was called to Liechtenstein to authenticate the remains of eighteen members of the royal family and fifteen servants."
"I remember something in the news about that. Burnt castle, entire royal family turned into barbecue – something about a possible coup by the locals," Booth related to her, obviously still confused. "Apparently the crime scene was so grim that even CNN refused to broadcast it."
She nodded, not wanting to discuss just how grim the scene had been, even for her experienced eyes. "Liechtenstein is a very small country, the size of D.C.," she started to explain, "not many people in the whole country, more companies than people - and enough GNP to fund most revolutions around the world."
"Money's always a good motive," Booth noted.
She nodded. "I first went there for my doctorate thesis, spent five months there just identifying a lot of remains from the Anschluss and World War I. I—" she stuttered in an out-of-character tone, "I made a good friend there, Dr. Oloff; he was a professor who was very close to the Royal Family, always spouting these theories about the soviets and every other political faction out there; Jack reminds me of him…" she felt a tear slipping down her face. "He was the one who called me when the fire happened. It was so awful, Booth— thirty-two bodies to identify, and—I just… I've seen more skeletons that suffered worse fates, but I knew these people."
She felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and he pulled away as quickly as he had approached her. From the corner of her eye she saw him turning to look at the mountain of papers behind them on the bed.
Her breath caught in her throat, unsure of how to continue telling him of the horror she'd been through for the past eleven weeks. She watched as his hand reached for a copy of The Times that announced the death of thirteen more acquaintances of the former Liechtensteiner Royal Family, bringing the death total to eighty over the past fourteen weeks.
"Uh, Bones… it says here that a forensic anthropologist Dr. Johannsen of the Swiss something-or-other was killed after he positively identified the members of the Royal Family. A bomb killed him," there was concern with a bit of panic in his voice.
She wasn't very good in categorizing his moods, but she could recognize that something had definitely clicked in his mind as he read the entire article. Bones bit her lip as she nodded. Pressing her cheek to Hannah's head, she was careful to avoid the anterior fontanel. "Dr. Johannsen and I both worked on identifying the remains, but they kept my name a secret to protect the Jeffersonian's reputation and me." She took a deep breath, because she was about to reveal something to her partner that could forever ruin his trust. "We forged reports, told the press that all the members of the Royal Family were dead, but they weren't, Booth. I wanted to tell the truth at first, but—she's just a baby, Booth. And now she's all alone."