Déjà Vu Chapter 6

Déjà Vu Chapter 6

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!

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Booth caught up to Temperance just after she entered her office.

"Listen, Bones," he began only to have her interrupt.

"Don't Booth," she said, her voice clipped and annoyed. He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry," he said. Temperance lifted her gaze from her desk and fixed him with a direct look.

"We have to be professional here, Booth," she insisted. Booth felt breathing become difficult and swallowed thickly.

"What?" he asked. Temperance sighed and stood straighter.

"We have to act professional whilst at work," she clarified. Booth felt something inside un-knot.

"Oh," he said. She rolled her eyes and placed her hand on her hips.

"Oh? Is that all you can say?" she snapped. Booth shook himself and gave her a lopsided grin.

"Sorry, still a little dazed from the attack of the fifty foot woman," he joked. She gave him an odd look.

"I don't know what that means," she said. He laughed.

"Never mind, Bones. I get what you're saying. No sex talk in the lab," he said. He paused and rewound his sentence at the sight of her smile and arched eyebrow. "I mean no sex talk! No sex talk!" he exclaimed. She gave a throaty chuckle, her blue eyes dancing with mirth.

"I can see where your mind is stuck," she said. Booth covered his face, feeling mortified.

"It's not what you think, Bones," he said, his words somewhat muffled by his hands. He heard her laugh again and move closer.

"Let's go talk to Cullen," she said. He risked a glance and felt a grin tug at his lips at the warm, happy expression on her face.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said.

"Don't call me ma'am," she insisted. He grinned.

"Yes, Bones," he said. She shook her head and exchanged her lab coat for her jacket, absently swatting him on the arm as she passed. He followed, admiring the way her jeans clung to her body silently.

This partner stuff is great, he admitted to himself with a grin. Her voice floated back to him, teasing and amused.

"Stop ogling me, Booth. It's not professional."

"Yes, Bones," he quipped. They laughed and he gently pressed his hand to her lower back as they exited toward the car.

Cullen frowned at the pair before him thoughtfully. He had thought there would be a continual power struggle between them, especially considering how opinionated and self-assured Dr. Brennan was in her own life, but somehow they had settled almost immediately into an easy partnership.

"You're sure it's Cleo Eller?" he asked. They nodded in eerie unison.

"The profile is dead on," Brennan began.

"And the timeline fits. She played tennis in college," Booth finished. The pair exchanged a glance before turning back to Cullen, who rubbed his head tiredly.

"Talk to me about the senator," he said. Brennan shivered as Booth spoke up.

"The victim worked for senator Bethlehem," he said, passing Cullen a picture of the senator. "They were reported to be involved, but we haven't been able to confirm." Cullen grunted softly.

"Bethlehem is a hound, everyone knows that." Booth smoothed his hand over the nape of his neck, feeling the goose-bumps that had arisen there.

"Ken Thompson, Cleo's boyfriend. He's Bethlehem's aide and keeps his calendar, books his appointments. That sort of thing."

"So he would have known about an affair," Cullen reasoned. They nodded in unison again and he frowned. "No affair, no motive," he stated. "What about the nutcase?" he asked.

"Oliver Lauriea," Booth said, handing over another photo.

"You like him for this?" Cullen asked. Booth looked torn.

"He is a stalker," he said, "but I've talked to him before. He doesn't seem the type. Far too nervous. But it could be him," he said. Beside him, Temperance looked faintly nauseous.

"What's your first move?" Cullen asked. Booth closed his eyes and pushed down the surge of dizziness.

"I'd like to inform the Ellers that we've found their daughter," he said. "I've come to know the family well. They deserve to know a.s.a.p."

"I'll have the cause of death by this afternoon," Temperance added. Cullen sighed, realising what the two were pushing for.

"Fine, just get this wrapped up as soon as you can. This is a nightmare as it is," he muttered. The two nodded and left without further words, leaving Cullen alone with his thoughts. Gratefully he reached into his desk and took out a small bottle of pills, taking two and swallowing them with a gulp.

"Thanks Hodgins," Temperance said as she hung up, pocketing her cell in her jacket. "So far so good," she said. "They've built the box and just need us to drop by to place the notes. Hodgins also identified rolled steel from a sledgehammer and diametacious earth from the particulates embedded in Cleo's skull." Booth gave a nasty, vindictive smile.

"Excellent," he drawled, imitating Mr Burns from the Simpsons. Temperance looked at him blankly, obviously realising he had made a pop culture reference but clueless as usual. "Never mind, Bones," he sighed. "God it'll feel good to get this guy," he muttered.

"Doesn't it always feel good, Booth?" Temperance asked. He nodded, but tapped the file meaningfully.

"Yeah but usually it takes a while to pin down the doer. Since we know who it is, we can work toward catching the little bastard out when he tries to squirm. Then I get, we get," he corrected, "to see his face when he realises he's done for. That's why it's better," he said. Temperance smiled, her own a little vindictive now.

"I see what you mean," she murmured. "Let's get back to the Jeffersonian and get those notes in the box. Though I do wonder what they said to get Dr. Goodman to agree to be the key holder." She mused.

"C'mon, please?" Angela pleaded. Goodman eyed her with barely concealed irritation.

"Miss Montenegro, I am a busy man. Do you honestly expect me to take time from my work just to help you with this little experiment?" he asked. She fluttered her lashes and gave him a large, sweet smile.

"Yes?" she tried hopefully. His expression stayed disapproving. "Oh, come on Dr. Goodman. Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with sugar on top?" A glint of amusement wormed its way into his eyes.

"My children do that when they want toys," he said. "I hardly expect it from one such as you." He paused. "Actually I retract that statement. This is exactly what I would expect of you." Angela grinned and continued to stare, opting to play the annoyance card. Goodman sighed. "Alright, Miss Montenegro, alright. Where is this box?" he asked.

"Downstairs," she said, bouncing up from the seat she occupied. "I'll take you," she added.

"Your generosity is astounding," Goodman deadpanned as he rose.

They met up with Brennan and Booth as they walked into the main atrium of the Jeffersonian. Temperance nodded at her superior.

"Dr. Goodman," she said in greeting. Goodman quirked an eyebrow in response.

"Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth," he said, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"The box," Booth said, ignoring the frigid glare sent his way by his partner.

"You are involved in this as well? I am surprised, Dr. Brennan. I would not think that such an outlandish experiment would interest you," Goodman said. Temperance looked tense, but nodded mutely, opting instead to lead the way to the lab. They arrived in little time to find a grinning Hodgins inspecting a large clear Perspex box coupled to an electronic locking mechanism with a small keypad and digital display.

"Hey!" he said when he noticed their arrival. "What do you think?" he asked. Booth walked around it and then glanced up.

"Where's the camera?" he asked. Goodman raised an eyebrow.

"Camera?" he asked. Zach stepped forward nervously.

"We decided that in order to assure ourselves that no one would attempt to interfere with the experiment we would hook up a live video feed to the security desk. We've asked the guards to make sure no on has any kind of interaction in order to maintain isolation," he explained. Goodman made a thoughtful noise.

"What exactly is the nature of this experiment? Miss Montenegro was deliberately evasive when questioned on the matter." Everyone froze, unsure of exactly how to explain what they were trying to prove. "Ah, I see it is one of those things I am not supposed to ask about," Goodman murmured.

"Awkward," Jack sang softly in a falsetto voice. Zach stared at him oddly.

"I fail to see what is so awkward about the situation," he stated loudly. Everyone cringed. "As Dr. Goodman is a scientist, he is well aware of experimenting to prove a hypothesis, therefore there should be no difficulty explaining to him the aim of this procedure," he continued. Goodman pounced.

"Then I would appreciate you explaining to me, Mr. Addy," he ordered. Zach nodded, oblivious to the frantic shushing motions Angela and Temperance were sending him behind Goodman's back.

"Of course. We are attempting to disprove dr. Brennan and Agent Booth current theory that they are experiencing prescient déjà vu," Zach explained. "They claim that they have experienced intuitive precognition when confronted with specific stimuli and already know the murderer of Cleo Eller. I deduce they also likely feel that they know the exact place and instrument of her death, although this hypothesis is somewhat contaminated as they have received Dr Hodgins' results regarding the particulates embedded in her skull."

The room fell silent, everyone watching Dr. Goodman's reaction with baited breath. Beyond blinking once in mild surprise, he seemed unruffled.

"I see," he murmured. Temperance stared, somewhat aghast that her own fears had been so easily deflated.

"That's it?" she asked sharply. "We tell you something that should have us committed and you say, 'I see?'" Goodman looked amused.

"Need I remind you, Dr. Brennan, that while I am a scientist, I am also a deeply religious man. Such claims as prescience and déjà vu are hardly news to me. In fact, I am now decidedly interested in the result of this experiment and, as long as it does not interfere with the running of the lab; I am willing to allow it to continue. In fact," he added, eyeing the box with interest, "I believe it might be a good idea to continue the experiment indefinitely. With each new case that Agent Booth brings to us, perhaps we should place he and Dr. Brennan's hypothesis within the box?"

The staring continued and his affable expression darkened.

"Well? Shall we continue?" he asked. Everyone jumped.

"If Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth could write down everything they can?" Zach asked, pushing two pieces of paper at them. "Separately please," he said. Booth shot him an annoyed look, but took the offered pen and moved to the opposite side of the room from his partner. Temperance did the same, sending Goodman a small, grateful smile as she passed. He returned a very small smirk.

A few moments of scribbling later, the duo presented Zach with two envelopes emblazoned with their names in crisp typeface that he slid into the two separate compartments in the box. He nodded to Hodgins, who signalled for Goodman to approach.

"Just hit the hash key and input the code you want into the keypad. When you're done, press hash again," he instructed. The black man nodded in acknowledgement and waited for everyone to retreat a safe distance before inputting his code of choice. The terminal emitted a sharp beep and the indicator light changed to red.

"Done," he announced. Everyone exchanged glances before Temperance spoke up.

"Let's screw this guy," she said. Booth laughed.

"It's 'let's nail this guy,' Bones," he explained. She blinked.

"Okay," she said. "To the Ellers?" she asked. He nodded, placing his hand at her lower back and steering them toward the door.

"We'll be back," he said before they left. Goodman watched them going with a raised brow and then turned to Angela.

"I believe the term is 'spill it,'" he said. She started to laugh.

Temperance tilted her head back into the headrest of Booth's SUV, feeling drained. Beside her, Booth looked similarly exhausted, having been subjected to the same never-ending feelings she had ever since they arrived at the Ellers' house.

"God I hate this," he muttered. He felt her hand rest gently on his forearm and opened his eyes. She looked drawn and pale, obviously suffering far more than he. He chuckled when he realised the possible similarities. Her expression turned questioning, and he grinned at her. "It's like we're pregnant without the benefits," he said. Her expression looked like a cross between amusement and horror.

"If that's the case," she said, "I'm never ever going to allow myself to fall pregnant."

"Aw, don't say that, Bones. Besides, I'd guarantee you'd be one of those women who suffered no side effects and carried on regardless. You know, one of those women every other pregnant woman hates." She looked smug at the idea, then frowned.

"Still no," she said. Booth chuckled, and then sighed.

"I just want this over. All this, just to get to where we know we're going," he said. She nodded.

"I want to let everyone else handle it and crawl into bed," she said, then blushed at her unintentional innuendo. Thankfully Booth was too tired to notice.

"Back to the lab?" he asked. She nodded.

"Thanks," she said. He shrugged.

"No worries, Bones. But we're celebrating when this is over, believe me."

"We're going to get bombed?" she said.

"It's blitzed," he corrected. "Actually bombed works too," he said, making her smile. "But yeah. We are. We so are."

"I think we need it," she agreed.

"I think we deserve it," he said. She nodded.

"To the Jeffersonian, Tonto," she said. He stared at her in shock. "What? I get them sometimes."

"You called me Tonto!" he exclaimed. "He's a sidekick!" Temperance looked smug. "Oh, no way, Bones. I am not the sidekick!" he insisted. She laughed.

"Okay, Hi-ho, Silver, away!" she carolled. The pair collapsed laughing.

"Does that mean you want to ride me, Bones?" Booth asked. Her mouth clicked shut and she stared at him with wide eyes. "Er…never mind," he muttered, returning his concentration to the rode. The rest of the trip was spent in somewhat nervous silence.

Temperance stared down at Cleo's skeleton impatiently. She wanted to move on, but Zach was still examining the bones carefully, his hand pinning down a small envelope she had handed to him before they began the detailed examination.

"A trial run," she explained, gesturing to the remains. He nodded and began his inspection.

That was an hour ago, Temperance groused to herself. Realising her assistant's need to be methodical didn't help stifle her impatience, and so she stood, silently stewing whilst awaiting his findings. Finally he stood, casting her a brief glance before opening the envelope and reading the contents. His second glance was a great deal more respectful.

"It would appear that your information is correct, Dr. Brennan. I apologise for verifying your conclusions," he said. She smiled briefly.

"It's okay, Zach. Were I in your position I would do the same thing. I don't really believe what's going on myself, and you are much more logical than I am." He looked relieved just as Jack arrived.

"Looks like another win for you, Dr. B," he said, holding up a small sheaf of papers. "She was pregnant," he confirmed. "Pupil casings show she was on Lorazepam, chlorodiazepam epoxide, and mechlazine hydrochloride. She wasn't far along. Want me to try for paternity?" he asked. Temperance nodded. He frowned at the remains pensively. "This Senator, ah, he's smart. He gets an intern pregnant then murders her when it threatens his career and he has the connections to get away with it!" Temperance gave a faint smile and shook her head.

"I hate it when you make paranoia plausible. It's like sliding off a cliff," she said. Hodgins grinned. "Can you narrow down the source or application of that diametaceous earth?" Temperance asked. He paused and shook his head reluctantly.

"Not really, it has widespread use across several industries. The source I narrowed it down to sells to hundreds of different companies. I'd never be able to pin-point what it was actually used for. I'm sorry Dr. B," he said. "Is it important?" he asked.

"It could be," she hedged. "Just carry on as normal, okay? We'll nail this guy, I'm sure of it." he nodded and watched as she walked away.

Temperance idly watched as the sky darkened to twilight. Soft footfalls alerted her to someone's approach and she turned to see Booth approach, his tie and top button undone and with his jacket slung over his shoulder.

"Evening, Bones," he greeted, a gentle smile on his face. She lolled her head more in his direction, an answering smile of her own curling her lips.

"Hey," she said.

"Tired?" he asked as he sat down. She shifted slightly to lean against him and nodded.

"Yeah." He chuckled softly, the vibrations soothing her a little.

"Monosyllabic today, aren't we?" he joked. She stirred and opened her eyes.

"Big words," she murmured softly, sighing when he slung an arm around her shoulder.

"Yeah, that's your fault," he said. She nodded and remained silent. "Want to go spook the creepy stalker guy tomorrow?" he asked. She nodded.

"He's trouble," she murmured.

"I know. He's not done anything yet, though. Can't count chickens before they hatch, Bones." She sighed softly, then pulled herself away.

"Let's do something," she suggested. Booth raised his eyebrows and grinned.

"We can't get wasted yet, Bones. Case's not over."

"I know that. I don't know, I just want to relax," she said. He smiled.

"You don't remember?" he asked. She frowned in confusion and he pouted.

"Mee Krob, Bones?" he reminded. Her face lit up.

"Thai food!" she sang, enjoying his accompanying duet. Newly energised, she hopped to her feet and began dragging him toward the parking lot. "Let's go!"

"Wait up, Bones!" Booth called, moving his legs faster to catch up.