Déjà Vu Chapter 3
Disclaimer: "BONES" and other related entities are owned, (TM) and © by 20th CENTURY FOX TELEVISION. Some dialogue and cases will be taken from the series, but character interactions will certainly be different!
Booth groaned as he woke, feeling his head pounding horrendously. It took him a moment to realise why, and he nearly groaned again when the fuzzy memories of before he slept told him just how drunk he had been.
Dear God, why must you punish me so? He thought to himself. he was about to get up to go to the bathroom, still unsure of exactly where he was, when a soft, feminine sigh accompanied the warm blanket he was wrapped in moving. That's not a blanket, he thought, his mind blaring several warnings at him.
Temperance sighed as she felt Booth moving beneath her and lifted her head to look at him blearily. Silently she thanked her constitution for allowing her to escape with minimal headaches, though her stomach was definitely not happy with the situation as it stood, as the violent lurch it gave reminded her.
"Morning, Booth," she mumbled, stretching into a yawn and sleepily tucking her hair over her ears. she registered that her partner was staring at her in something akin to shock and she paused to allow her higher cognitive functions to re-engage. She checked herself, finding herself wearing her usual brown tank top and cargo pants, then glanced around before returning her gaze to her partner. "What?" she asked, her mouth cracking into another yawn.
Booth stared as his partner woke up, seemed completely fine with the situation and then began questioning him. He blinked, still feeling surprised.
"You're not angry?" he asked. Temperance gave him an odd look.
"Why would I be? We just fell asleep when we were drunk, Booth. It's not like we slept together," she said. Booth boggled at the myriad of scandalous images the sentence conjured up in his mind, then realised how his body tended to react first thing in the morning. He froze as it responded with clueless abandon, and prayed to God that Bones wouldn't notice.
She did and, considering she was currently perched on his waist, it really wasn't surprising that she did. Temperance felt her face heat with a blush as she registered her partner's early morning reaction. It wasn't the act itself she was embarrassed about - it was after all, perfectly natural - it was the fact it was Booth, and Booth's…parts which were pressed against her own.
The pair stared at each other, both sporting rosy red blushes, for several seconds, before Temperance's stomach made itself known again, forcing her to bolt for the kitchen to get a glass of water. Alone at last, Booth sat up and cradled his pounding head in his hands.
Perhaps getting wasted wasn't such a good idea, he thought ruefully. It had seemed a good idea at the time, but now he sent another prayer that Cullen didn't get wind of his absence or his reasons for it. Bad déjà vu wasn't likely to cut it with the hard-nosed deputy director of the FBI.
"Booth!" Temperance called from the kitchen, her voice urgent. "Booth, it's ten AM! We're late!" Leaping to his feet, Booth hustled into the kitchen, his face pale.
"We'd better get moving. I'll call the office, you call the lab. I'll drive. We can pick up coffee on the way!"
Temperance nodded, grabbing her keys, purse and jacket before pausing.
"Zach saw what we were wearing yesterday. He'll notice neither of us has changed," she warned, nibbling on her bottom lip in a way that made Booth stare stupidly at her. "Booth?" she prompted, feeling a blush creep up her neck at the intense look on her partner's face.
"Right. We'll deal with that if it crops up," he said, gently steering her to the door with a hand on her lower back. Booth felt the blood pounding in his ears as his hand met warm, bare flesh where her clothing had ridden up, but kept his face calm as the two of them exited the apartment and rode down to the ground floor. So wrapped up in his own thoughts and attempts to suppress his hangover was he, that he completely missed the faint smile that decorated Temperance's lips all the way to the car.
The two of them entered the Jeffersonian at twenty minutes past ten looking tired and rumpled, but in good spirits. Goodman had been surprisingly magnanimous about her lateness, and had merely expressed his desire to see her at her earliest convenience. Which in Goodman terms, meant as soon as she stepped into the building.
"I'll see you in a bit. I have to meet with Goodman and let him know about the arrangement," Temperance said. Booth nodded over his coffee cup and suppressed a yawn.
"No worries. I gotta head into the office anyway and get it cleared with Cullen."
"Try not to get fired," Temperance teased as she walked away. Booth laughed, then thought better of confronting Cullen with a hangover and without backup.
"On second thought, I'm gonna wait in your office," Booth said. Temperance grinned.
"You mean hide," she said.
"I'm not hiding. I'll be going over the case file," Booth said reasonably. Temperance shook her head and made her way to Goodman's office, thoughts of her partner dancing idly in her mind. Whilst she knew that she should be focusing on the case, she knew they would catch the killer and had, in fact, a fair certainty as to who was responsible. He would get his comeuppance.
She knocked on the heavy oaken door to Goodman's office firmly before entering. Dr. Goodman sat behind his ornate mahogany desk, a small pile of paperwork spread before him and stacked in the blue plastic tray marked 'out' to his right.
"Dr. Brennan, thank you for seeing me so soon," Dr. Goodman began, steepling his fingers in front of his face.
"Not at all, Dr. Goodman. What was it you wanted to see me about?" Temperance said. Goodman eyed her levelly for several long moments before easing back into his comfortable chair.
"I was surprised to hear that you had taken the afternoon off yesterday, Dr. Brennan. Especially in light of your last encounter with Agent Booth. I believe that you communicated your dislike for him quite firmly," he said. Temperance kept her face neutral, but inwardly smirked. Her communications mostly had been via pointed arguments that they weren't rent-a-scientists, as she recalled.
Pondering what to say, Temperance ordered her mind as best she was able before speaking.
"My previous interactions with Agent Booth were both detrimental to the working environment and also to our relationship with the FBI. Correct me if I am wrong, but are we not a federally funded institution? I would imagine positive relations with federal agencies would be beneficial to our continued funding." Goodman looked surprised and pleased.
"I am gratified that you realise the need for such co-operation. I confess I was anticipating a rather more…negative reception," he said. Temperance allowed herself a polite smile and shook her head.
"Regardless of my personal feelings on the matter, cultivating relations between ourselves and the FBI can only bring prestige to the institution. I have agreed with Agent Booth that I shall partner with him on cases in order to conduct the forensic investigation, with the assistance of the lab, both in the field and here. Both of us believe that such a relationship will only bring success. We are the best, after all," she added with a slightly smug grin.
Goodman looked amused and approving.
"Excellent, Dr. Brennan. I see no further reason to keep you from doing your job, so unless there is anything else?" he said. Temperance shook her head and rose.
"No, that's fine. if I have any questions I'll give you a call," she said. "Goodbye Dr. Goodman"
"Goodbye, Dr. Brennan."
Booth sat in Brennan's office, idly flipping through the old case file he had worked on in the disappearance of Cleo Eller. He didn't need to read any of the contents, he knew them off by heart now, but the way to proceed was what had him stuck now. Thanks to the eerie déjà vu that both he and Brennan were continually experiencing, which thankfully had not happened today, he had a very good idea of who exactly was responsible.
Glaring down at the picture of Ken Thompson, Booth jumped when Temperance sat next to him and offered him a cup of coffee.
"A bit jumpy, aren't we? I thought you were a trained sniper. Doesn't that come with some impressive observational skills?" she said. Booth accepted the coffee with an annoyed look.
"I'm just trying to work out how to proceed," he explained.
"We get the evidence, solve the case and get the bad guy," Temperance said easily. "Simple." Booth shook his head in frustration.
"It's not simple, Bones. We know who we're after," he held up the picture of Thompson, "but we can't just go for the jugular. We have to jump through all the hoops for anyone who looks at the investigation! A lawyer will look at all our notes and say 'You only went for him. Who else could have been a suspect?' Even if we know they aren't, we still have to talk to other suspects to make it look like we're doing it right."
"So what's wrong? We follow the evidence, right? We just have to be patient and do it properly. There's nothing to fear there, you know we're the best there is." Temperance pointed out. Booth sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair.
"Yeah," he said, "yeah you're right. Sorry."
"Don't be. Both of us are off balance because of this…thing," Temperance said. Booth grinned a little and settled back on the couch.
"Thing, huh? What is this thing?" he asked. Temperance shoved him on the arm and stood up.
"Stop it," she said. "Time to go to work."
The two of them approached the central platform as three people were grouped in discussion. Just as they came close, Angela glanced up and gave them a wide, conspiratorial smile.
"Sweetie! Did you have a nice night?" she asked, glancing between the pair knowingly. Booth resisted the urge to groan, but exchanged a slightly resigned look with his partner, who looked distinctly uncomfortable at the potential line of questioning.
"Not now, Ange," Temperance said. "Work first, questions later. What do we have? I'm assuming, of course, that a full particulate analysis has been done?"
"Yeah," Hodgins said, "I got three larval stages of trichoptera, cara nibidae…"
"Meaning?" Temperance interrupted, her cheek twitching slightly as the familiarly unwanted feeling shivered up her spine. Hodgins glanced at Angela curiously for a moment, who shrugged, before allowing his eyes to dart back to the silent FBI agent who stood just behind his superior.
"She was in the water one winter and two summers," he said after a moment, intrigued by the significant look the duo were now exchanging. Conspiracy senses tingling! He thought to himself. "Hey, you really think I'm listening?" he said. Temperance gave him a confused look before understanding dawned in her eyes.
"Oh, the book? It's not you, though I admit I may have used some characteristics that are relatively unique to your societal standing," she said. Everyone blinked, sure that she would have denied it.
"Oh," Jack said, and then cleared his throat. "Anyway, I found some small bone fragments in the silt," he said, moving over to a nearby monitor and keying in a quick sequence to retrieve the image data he had previously loaded.
Temperance glanced at them for a moment, a silent nod from Booth giving her the go-ahead.
"Magnify, two hundred percent," she ordered. Jack did as instructed and the image enlarged upon the screen. "These are foetal ear bones," Temperance said grimly, "she was pregnant." Everyone remained silent for a moment before Jack spoke up again.
"Also some tiny gold links from a fine chain." The screen split, showing the indicated links after another short burst of typing by Hodgins. "I've not yet analysed what she was holding in her hand, but it looks like cellulose."
"Paper?" Angela offered. He shrugged.
"Hmm…maybe." Zach moved forward nervously.
"Dr. Brennan, I found grit embedded in the skull fragments during my examination that Dr. Hodgins will need to identify. Would you like me to remove the remaining tissue?" he asked. Temperance nodded and gave him a small smile.
"Yes, well done, Zach. I will reconstruct the skull myself once you have finished and pass it to Angela so she can put a face on the victim." Nodding, Zach wheeled the body away toward the area where he would de-flesh the body, stopping only to pass a small container to Hodgins containing what Temperance knew to be diamataceous earth. Temperance turned to Booth, who gave her a small smile. "Did you want me for anything?" she asked.
Booth closed his eyes and massaged the brow of his nose as he caught Angela's muffled giggle.
"Bones, don't say that to a guy, okay?" he said in exasperation, then cut her off before she could ask him why not. "Moving on, I have to speak to Deputy Director Cullen. I don't want him asking why I took off yesterday, so we were working on establishing a professional working relationship." Temperance snorted and rolled her eyes, the image of them capering around her apartment to Foreigner's 'Hot Blooded' appearing in her mind.
"Right," she said. "Let's go then. I have about an hour and a half before Zach is finished de-fleshing the body." The pair then left for her office, allowing her to drop off her lab coat and pick up her purse.
They arrived at the Washington field office in twenty minutes, Booth briefly stopping off to register her as a visitor and acquire a pass to allow her access in the future before they rode the elevator to the fourth floor and the homicide department. There, Booth picked up the rest of the documents they would need to give the director.
"Just remember," Booth said when they were seated in the small waiting area outside the director's office, "don't say anything about the Eller case."
"I know, Booth, I'm not mentally deficient," Temperance muttered. They sat in silence then until the director's secretary looked up.
"Deputy Director Cullen will see you now Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan," she said. Booth nodded his thanks as they entered the room to sit facing the director in the twin chairs set there for that purpose.
"Agent Booth, you asked for this meeting. I assume it is to do with the body at Arlington?" Cullen asked. His eyes remained firmly set on Dr. Brennan, however.
"Yes sir. Allow me to introduce Dr. Temperance Brennan, forensic anthropologist and author, before we begin." Cullen nodded cordially to Temperance, his expression serious.
"Pleased to meet you Doctor. I was under the impression that you preferred not to have much more contact with Agent Booth," he said, making booth wince slightly. Temperance smiled and shook her head.
"As I told Dr. Goodman at the Jeffersonian, I am aware that holding personal grudges does nothing but cast a pall on the good relations between our two parties, as well as impedes any kind of investigation into the deaths of these unfortunate victims." She glanced at Booth, to find him looking gratefully at her, a small grin on his face. "Also, Agent Booth and I have worked out a deal where I will be accompanying him into the field to assist in any investigations that occur." Booth went white and looked at Cullen nervously.
"I see," the director said. "Before I address that issue, I have heard some good things about your expertise, and would like to ask what input you had on Agent Booth's last case."
"Agent Booth showed me the victim's autopsy x-rays, from which I identified the murder weapon and the approximate weight, height and favoured hand of the suspect. These details, while not given particular credence at the time," Temperance paused to shoot Booth an irritated look, "were proven correct upon the apprehension of the suspect." Cullen's lips twitched in amusement, his eyes glancing over at a squirming Booth.
"I see. Well, I cannot promise that I would have acted differently, but I must say I am impressed. What have you found out about the most recent victim?"
"Victim is female, aged between eighteen and twenty-two and approximately five foot three. She had delicate features and her favourite sport was tennis." Booth stood up and handed over the small file he had gathered on the prospective victim.
"Hmm…you're good," Cullen murmured as he glanced at the file's contents. Booth shook his head.
"No, she's amazing," he said, grinning at his partner, who looked pleased at the praise. Cullen nodded.
"Fine, she's on you. Take a squint out in the field she's your responsibility," he said. "No offence," he added apologetically. Temperance shrugged.
"None taken, I'm used to it from him," she said, indicating Booth.
"Hey, leave me out of it!" Booth muttered as they walked to the door.
Cullen watched the pair go with amusement, not really knowing whether to be happy knowing that they now had an extremely accomplished anthropologist working to solve crimes or to be worried at the likely headaches she would cause. After a moments thought, he pressed the intercom to his secretary.
"Ella, can you make sure to stock up on painkillers? I have a suspicion I'll need them soon," he said.
"Right away, sir," Ella replied. Cullen sat back and glanced through the file Booth had given him again, paying particular attention to the crime scene photos.
"All that from this," he murmured. "Amazing indeed."
"So, you're going back to the lab?" Booth asked as they got into the SUV. Temperance nodded.
"Yes, I need to reconstruct the skull in order to give Cleo her face back. It will take me all night," she added. Booth grunted in acknowledgement, mostly concentrating on threading his way through the lunch time traffic.
"So no lunch then," he said. Temperance glanced at her watch and pursed her lips.
"Maybe something quick," she acquiesced, making Booth smile faintly and indicate to turn off.
"Diner?" he asked.
"Sure," Temperance replied. "Are you going to have pie?"
"I always have pie, Bones, I always have pie." They smiled at each other as Booth pulled up at the Royal Diner. "And coffee," he added as they made their way inside.
"Good coffee," she corrected. He nodded and they slid onto a vacant table next to the main window.
"You handled Cullen pretty well, Bones," Booth said, "and thanks for warning me you were going to tell him about our deal. I was going to do that later." Temperance shrugged as the waitress approached.
"I'll have a Mediterranean salad and a coffee, white, one sugar, please," she said.
"Cheeseburger, no fries, black coffee with two sugars and a slice of that apple pie," Booth added when the waitress turned to him.
"Okay, it'll be right out," the waitress said and retreated. Temperance looked at Booth evenly for several moments before speaking.
"We still haven't decided what to do about this déjà vu," she said. Booth frowned, but nodded thoughtfully.
"Well, we have, at least as far as cases go," he said. "If this happens again on our next case"
"Which it will," Temperance interrupted,
"Which it might," Booth corrected, "then we continue as we are now. Just…pointing people in the right direction."
"Booth, evidence has shown that it is highly likely that this will continue to occur. The problem is that we have no idea when it will do so, which makes the anticipation frustrating and stressful." Temperance said. Booth looked amused.
"We'll just have to find a way to de-stress then won't we, Bones?" he said. Temperance rolled her eyes, but perched her chin on her hand to regard him speculatively.
"You're incorrigible, Booth. I wonder if you can take anything seriously." His amused look persisting, Booth briefly thanked the waitress as she returned with their food.
"I'm perfectly capable of being serious, Bones, but you have to wonder, what's the point of being miserable about this? Let's just relax when we can and enjoy ourselves. You know, switch off the work brains and chat about things not related to work?"
"Like what, Booth?" Temperance asked. Booth chewed on his burger thoughtfully for a moment.
"I dunno, Bones, pick something at random," he suggested.
"Why do you like pie?" Temperance asked after several minutes of thought. Booth stifled a chuckle and swallowed more of his burger.
"I was brought up with pie, Bones. My mom used to make it all the time. I love pie. Why, you want some, Bones?" Temperance wrinkled her nose daintily and shook her head.
"No thanks, Booth. I don't really like pie."
"Oh c'mon, Bones. Everybody loves pie! Try it," he cajoled taking a small section on his fork and teasingly waving it before her mouth as she eyed it distrustfully.
"I don't know…I've not finished my salad," she demurred, gesturing at the mostly finished meal. Booth gave her a dry look that silently questioned if she was being serious, forcing her to give in and delicately take the small morsel into her mouth. Booth watched her pink tongue flicker out before she wrapped her lips around his fork and felt his mouth go dry as she slowly withdrew the piece of cutlery from her mouth.
He swallowed thickly, fully aware that the innocent act, at least on her part, was the most sensual thing he had ever seen, and gulped down several mouthfuls of hot coffee to distract himself.
"Gah!" he exclaimed as his brain registered the blistering heat. "Hot!" Temperance looked at him with concern and a small flicker of amusement at his reaction.
"It's coffee Booth, it would be hot. You should try taking it slower in future. Do you know that I saw something with Angela once where the women drank their coffee as if they were having sex?" Booth's eyes bulged as he coughed, barely believing what he had heard.
"What?" he rasped, eyeing her with disbelief.
"It's true. It was some sort of comedy about lawyers, as I recall. Maybe Angela will remember. I tried it afterwards, but I've never had good enough coffee to really get the same reaction." Her speculative eye fell on the half-empty cup of coffee on the table and she raised it to her lips after flashing Booth a wicked smile. His hand flashed into place above her coffee cup just before it reached her lips, making her eyes dance with amusement above his hand as he leant awkwardly across the table.
"Please don't," Booth pleaded, "I really don't need you having sex with your coffee during lunch." He removed his hand after a moment, trying to steer his mind away from how it felt to have her lips kissing the back of his hand. He shivered and dug into his pie, deliberately ignoring the knowing look on his partner's face.
Temperance, on her part, was thoroughly amused at this bashful side of her partner and resolved that a little bit of teasing every now and then couldn't hurt.
"Does this mean I'm not allowed my coffee?" she asked innocently. Booth shot her a black look in response and returned to demolishing his pie. Temperance eyed the remaining part silently, weighed her options, and then made a decision. "Can I have some more?" she asked. Booth frowned, but dutifully put some on a fork and passed it over.
Temperance wondered at the disappointment she felt that he didn't feed it to her, but merely settled for a polite 'thank you' before taking another bite. It was fairly good, she reasoned to herself, for a pie, at least. She rationalised that she could understand why Booth liked pie if he was able to find consistently good quality ones such as the one served in the diner.
The minutes passed by in silence as Temperance toyed with the remainder of her salad, annoyed by Booth's sudden turn for the monosyllabic and frustrated that it was likely her teasing which had made him clam up. she pondered if there was anything she could do to rectify the situation, but admitted to herself that she was pretty poor at handling situations like these.
Opposite, Booth finished his pie and surreptitiously glanced at his partner as she toyed with her food. He felt a pang of guilt at her upset expression and scrubbed a hand through his dark brown hair.
"Hey, Bones," he said. She looked up, her pale blue eyes intense, expression reserved. "You like the pie, huh," he said, gesturing to the empty plate. She shrugged slightly.
"It was a good example of a well baked pie. A nice crumbly case and sweet, moist filling," she said by way of explanation. "It was a good pie," she added, seeing his expression.
"Yes or no, Bones," Booth said wryly. "When someone asks if you liked something, the usual answer is yes, or no."
"Yes, Booth, I liked the pie," she muttered, rolling her eyes.
"Cool, uh…" Booth trailed off, feeling lost. He needed to fix whatever was wrong, but really didn't know what the problem was. He decided, after Temperance gazed at him silently, that he really didn't want to work, and just wanted to hang out. "You want take-out?" he asked suddenly, then realised exactly what her response would be.
"We've just eaten, Booth," Temperance pointed out.
"I know that, Bones. I just meant…later," Booth said, making a vague gesture with his hand. She continued to stare at him silently and he scrubbed his face to avoid her stare. "Tonight, Bones. I'll bring take-out tonight, okay?" he said eventually. She gave a slow nod, and then opened her mouth.
"Mee Krob?" she said, seemingly testing the words as she spoke them. Booth grinned.
"Mee Krob it is, Bones. C'mon let's get back, we've got a killer to catch," he said. She returned his grin and stood up just as he paid for their food. At her exasperated look, he shrugged nonchalantly and gestured for her to make her way to the exit. A guilty portion of himself admitted he did it to watch her tight bottom as she walked.
Unnoticed, Temperance glanced into the glass of the door and realised just where her partner was looking. She suppressed a smile and added a little extra sway in her hips as she walked to the car.
