Chapter Two
World travels were nothing new to Brennan. In her line of work, she had been to most every important archaeological site in addition to many lesser-known but equally important ones. Though her trips were always made under an agreement of neutrality, the host countries had sometimes been less than accommodating. She had the scars to prove it.
Those incidences were few and far between and she had been able to rationalize their occurrences with the fact that she had helped with important finds, whether they were artifacts or human remains. Often she had given identities to victims, and peace to grieving families. Her work had been terribly similar to what she did on a weekly basis at the Jeffersonian. Her worldwide expeditions were not the stuff of Hollywood romanticism by any means.
Now it seemed she would be returning to that work, only this time with Booth by her side. What an odd thought. She glanced at him as she continued exactly what she had been doing when he interrupted her on the platform.
"I don't understand," she said, peering at the skull in her hand as she carefully scraped at particulates from the eye sockets. "Why do they need us to fly out there? Can't the authorities from Rome handle the case?"
"No, Bones, they can't," Booth explained patiently. How did he know this was going to be difficult? "Based on dental records, they have the girl identified as one Olivia Daniels from Hoboken, New Jersey. She was there on an exchange program through NYU, studying," he paused flipping through the case file he had received. Not finding the detail he was searching for, he let it flip shut and shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno, art history or religious studies or something."
"You shouldn't generalize areas of study like that, Booth," Brennan chided him, tapping a scraping from the bone onto a sample dish, then returning the tool to the other eye socket. "There's a huge difference between those two fields."
"What difference does it make? All these kids go off to foreign countries in college for the same reason."
"And what reason is that?"
"To get away from the supervision of school, to be in a country that doesn't have a strict legal drinking age," Booth informed her as he stepped closer to her workspace. He placed his hands on the steel table and leaned forward, dropping his voice suggestively. "The chance to have a fling with someone with a hot accent."
Brennan's hand stilled and she brought her gaze up to meet his, her eyes narrowing.
"Or maybe… she was just there to study," she said. Booth pointed a finger at her.
"Just because that's all you would do, Bones, doesn't mean that that's what everyone would do," he smiled, teasing. Brennan tilted her head and gave him a small smile, then returned to her work, the instrument in her hand making a grating noise as it scraped along the bone.
"I still find it offensive that you don't want to give any consideration to what she was there to study," she told him, now scraping the bone with more force. Booth winced as he watched her, not appreciating the sight at all. "People used to think it was okay to lump me in the same field as every other anthropology student in college. It didn't seem to matter to anyone that the fields of study within anthropology vary greatly. The particular focus is important; it individualizes a student… cultural, biological, archaeological…"
Booth reached out a hand and placed it on top of the one that was currently tracing the nasal cavity of the skull. Brennan stopped and looked up at him in surprise.
"Could you… not do that while we're talking," Booth requested with a slightly disgusted look on his face.
"Of all the things we've seen, this bothers you?"
Booth folded his arms across his chest, subconsciously puffing himself up.
"The noise," he said unconvincingly. "It's hard on the ears."
Brennan gave him a skeptical look, but put the skull down anyway, straightening and placing her hands on her hips.
"Thank you," Booth said. "So anyway. Our flight is tonight. I'll pick you up at six."
"Whoa!" Brennan exclaimed.
There it is, Booth thought, ready to handle the coming objections. He barely listened to her rant as he opened the file one more time, shuffling through the papers for one item in particular.
"Booth, I have a huge amount of work on my hands right now, I have hundreds of skeletons in limbo that I was planning on identifying over the next several days. Not to mention the fact that the Jeffersonian is putting an incredible amount of pressure on me to select a new intern, and I…" she trailed off as Booth held up an eight by ten photograph of who she could only assume was the victim.
She studied the smiling face. The girl was young, her face still hanging onto the remnants of baby pudge. Her alabaster skin was sprinkled with freckles across the bridge of her nose, her fluffy strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and her hazel eyes sparkling behind a pair of thick, round glasses. Brennan felt her throat constrict slightly.
"She was only eighteen, Bones," Booth said solemnly. "On the trip of a lifetime, on the brink of an exciting adult life. From a good Catholic family. Don't tell me she doesn't deserve your time. Don't tell me her family doesn't deserve an answer. You're her best hope."
Brennan sucked in a breath and looked up into her partner's eyes, pleading and determined. When had she become incapable of saying no to that look?
"Okay," she consented.
"Good," Booth nodded and returned the photo to the folder. "I'll let the Vatican authorities know to expect us tomorrow."
"I'm sorry… the Vatican?"
Ding, round two.
"Her body was found in the catacombs of Saint Priscilla," Booth said carefully. "The crime scene lies under the jurisdiction of the Vatican."
He could see the tension and general disapproval set in to every aspect of Brennan's being.
"I have to work in cooperation with the Pontifical Commission for Sacred Anthropology," she stated more than asked. Booth shifted uncomfortably.
"Well… yes," he stammered. She continued to stare at him for several moments, appearing to be weighing her options on the matter.
"You are so lucky I like you."
It wasn't much of an answer, but at the moment, Booth was willing to take it. He gave her a relieved grin and dropped the case file on her work station for her to look at before their flight that evening.
"See you at six, Bones," he said, turning to head down the stairs of the platform. Just as he was about to leave the room, her voice called out after him.
"And when you talk to the Vatican authorities, you can tell Signor Giacomo Moretti of the Pontifical Commission that, unlike last time, I will not be following the limits set by his church. This is a murder investigation, not a retrieval expedition, and I intend to treat it as such."
Booth felt his jaw clench at her words.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change… This was going to be a fabulous trip.
