Six Hours Earlier
"Brennan! What are you doing down here?" Angela asked as she walked into Bone Storage or "Limbo" as my colleagues call it.
As I had skeletal remains spread out on a table, I would have thought the answer to that question would be obvious. "I'm trying to identify this woman." I knew it was a woman because the remains included a pelvis. The pelvis showed signs of remodeling; I estimated the injury had occurred approximately six months before her death.
Angela smiled and rolled her eyes at me. "I can see that. I meant why are you working when we have a banquet to get ready for."
I examined the woman's skull. Definite Caucasoid features. "I'm not going."
"Seriously? Cam will kill you if you don't show up."
I laughed. "I'm the best forensic anthropologist the Jeffersonian has. I find it highly unlikely that Cam would murder me for missing a party."
"The Donors' Banquet isn't just a party. It's a big deal for the Jeffersonian. Our best forensic anthropologist should be there."
I looked at the woman's mandible, examining her teeth to get an idea of her age. Based on the development of her molars, I concluded she was in her late teens or early twenties. "I think the Jeffersonian's benefactors would understand if I missed the banquet because I was doing the work they're subsidizing. Don't you think this woman deserves to be identified and returned to her family?"
"Of course. But she's already waited years; I think she can wait until Monday. Please think about it, sweetie. I'd really like to see you interacting with live people."
I also noticed evidence of remodeling on the woman's left tibia. Combined with the damage to the pelvis, that suggested she may have been in a car accident. "I find the live people at such events to be very annoying."
"Okay, some of the donors do talk way too much. But they're not all pompous and boring. Remember that old army guy who was telling Booth those amazing war stories?" She went silent for a few moments. "Booth isn't going this year, is he?"
"No. He has plans with Hannah." That's what he'd told me when I asked him last week. His answer didn't surprise me. He and Hannah were spending a lot of time together, which was perfectly normal for a couple in love. I was trying to be happy for him, but in truth I missed our late night talks and meals at the diner. I missed the way he used to look at me. I missed a lot of things.
"So that's why you don't want to go."
I've often admired Angela's intuition, but sometimes I wished that she were less perceptive. "My not wanting to go to the banquet has nothing to do with Booth. I just think it's a waste of time."
"Did you think it was a waste of time when you went with Booth last year?"
"Yes." I was lying.
"I know you're lying, sweetie. I saw the two of you last year, and you were both having a great time. Don't worry too much about Hannah, okay? That isn't going to last. Sooner or later he'll realize that it's you he really wants and the two of you will live happily ever after."
I forced myself to laugh. "No. That is definitely NOT going to happen."
"Why do you say that?"
I had known I'd have to tell Angela at some point, but I wasn't looking forward to this conversation. "Because we missed our moment."
"You 'missed your moment'? What does that mean?"
"Shortly before I left for Maluku, Booth asked me to give a relationship with him a chance. I told him I couldn't."
"Brennan!" She sounded exasperated with me. "How could you do that? He's the perfect guy for you! Everyone who meets you two can see it! Why can't you?"
"I do see it!" I snapped. I wasn't as oblivious as everyone thought I was.
"Then why did you turn him down?"
I took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. "I was afraid that I couldn't be the woman he wanted. The woman he deserved. I was afraid I'd lose the only man I've ever cared about. I regret that I made a decision based on fear, but it doesn't matter now. He's moved on."
"Oh sweetie." She gave me a hug. "For what it's worth, I don't think he really moved on. He only thinks he has. If you started dating someone tomorrow, he'd be as jealous as he was when you were with Sully." Suddenly her eyes lit up. "You're going to the banquet tonight, Bren. You're going to meet some young, rich guy and start dating him. Then Booth will realize what his heart truly wants."
"I don't think I'm ready to date again."
"Spending all your free time in Limbo won't help you get ready. Go to the banquet. Please? Consider it a personal favor for me and the baby."
The young woman in "Limbo" had been someone's baby. Yet my attendance at the banquet clearly meant a lot to Angela. "I'm going to spend another half hour with these remains and then I'll get ready to go."
Angela gave me another hug. "Thank you, sweetie. You won't regret it."
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As soon as I arrived at the banquet, I did regret it.
There were so many people stuffed into the Jeffersonian ballroom that just moving around was difficult. It was also very warm, too warm for my comfort even though my black cocktail dress left a good deal of skin exposed. I would stay for a little while to satisfy my promise to Angela and then go home.
I needed to find Angela to show her I'd come. After several minutes of squeezing my way past groups of conversing scientists and benefactors, I finally spotted her and Hodgins. I waved at them and they waved back. They started to move in my direction, but had to stop when they were pulled into a conversation with a few men I didn't know.
Wanting to talk to my friends alone, I waited for the conversation to be finished.
And waited.
And waited some more.
Frustrated, I decided to go to the bar area and grab a drink. I turned around abruptly and bumped into a man in his thirties. Mid to late thirties, I estimated. I had never seen him before at the Jeffersonian, so he was most likely a donor. He had short dark hair and symmetrical features. Somewhat like Booth, but not as attractive.
Why did I have to compare every man I met to Booth? They always came up short.
"Sorry," I said.
He smiled at me. His dentition was aesthetically pleasing. "It's alright. It's hard to move around here and not bump into somebody, isn't it?"
"That's certainly true."
"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm William Hewitt Dickinson." He extended his hand to me. "You can call me Will or William."
I shook it. "Temperance Brennan. You can call me Temperance."
"It's a pleasure, Temperance. Would I be too forward if I said that you look very beautiful tonight?"
"No. Thank you. You're quite handsome yourself."
He smiled again. "I'm glad you think so. Do you work at the Jeffersonian? Or are you a patron like me?"
"I work at the Jeffersonian. I'm a forensic anthropologist. One of the best in the world actually. That means I-"
"You can determine age, sex, race, past injuries, and cause of death for remains that are badly decomposed," he interrupted.
"Very impressive." Most people I meet outside of the scientific community are unaware of what a forensic anthropologist does.
"I took some anthropology courses in college," he said. "But I majored in Business, then got my MBA at the Yale School of Management. I'll be taking over my father's business someday. Have you heard of Dickinson Industries?"
"No. But I'm guessing that it's run by your father."
"Indeed it is," he said with a laugh. "Hold on a minute. Are you the same Temperance Brennan who wrote Bred in the Bone?"
"Yes. That was my first novel."
"Wow! I loved that book. I loved all of your books. Is Kathy based on yourself? Obviously you're both forensic anthropologists."
"Yes, but that's all we have in common."
"What about Andy? Is he someone you're dating in real life?"
"I'm not dating anyone at the moment."
"Neither am I." The orchestra began to play, and soon couples all around us were dancing. "Will you dance with me, Temperance?"
I danced with Booth last year. He spun me around and dipped me and-
I pushed the image out of my mind. He was with Hannah right now; why shouldn't I dance with another man? "I'd like that."
After we had danced to a few songs, William said: "It's so crowded in here. Is there someplace else we can go?"
Eager to escape the crowds and unbearable heat, I led him out of the ballroom and into one of my favorite sections of the museum. "The exhibits in this room are fascinating. Some of them date back to-"
Suddenly he was kissing me.
It'd been a long time since anyone had kissed me, and William was a more than adequate kisser. I should have found the experience pleasurable.
But I didn't.
When I asked myself why, the answer came almost immediately: William, while attractive and educated, was lacking one important quality.
He wasn't Booth.
I pulled away from him. "I'm sorry. In the past I wouldn't have minded having a physical relationship with someone I had no emotional attachment to, but I can't do that anymore." I ran out of the Jeffersonian and into the parking garage.
William followed me. "Temperance, wait. I'm sorry I upset you. I don't normally go that fast, please believe me. Can we try this again?"
Without looking back at him I headed to my car. "No. I'm going home."
"Come on, Temperance!" He sounded increasingly desperate. "My family has given thousands of dollars to the Jeffersonian. Give me another chance and I'll write a check tomorrow. How much do you want?"
He thought he could buy another chance with me? I was disgusted. "No amount of money is going to make me change my mind."
"You think you can lead me on and then just walk away? You're making a big mistake." As I reached for my door handle, he grabbed me. Instinct took over. I applied pressure to his wrist until I heard a crack. He screamed in pain.
I tried to get to my car again, but he moved to block my path. His face was contorted in rage. I'd seen that look before on the face of the foster father who'd locked me in a car trunk for two days. "You're gonna regret that, bitch."
He started hitting me over and over again. I used my extensive martial arts training to deflect several blows and to inflict as many as I could, but in the end it wasn't enough. Eventually I could feel myself starting to lose consciousness. In my last few seconds of conscious thought, I found myself wondering when Booth would come help me.
After all, he'd always come to my aid when I'd needed him the most. He'd shot Agent Kenton and the Harbinger doctor just as each was about to kill me. He'd pulled me to the surface when Hodgins and I had been buried by the Gravedigger. He'd stood in front of the bullet Pam Nunan meant for me.
But he's not coming to save you this time, my brain taunted. He has plans with the woman he loves.
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Thanks for reading! All comments are greatly appreciated.
