Okay, so this is kind of a long chapter. Sorry. But I wanted to get the case in. Well, we are getting closer to when Booth finds about Brennan's job offer, but it's not quite here. Anways, here it is. Thanks.
The car ride to Sunshine Air Laundromat was quiet. The interview of the owners was somehow subdued. The car ride to Spotless Clean was even quieter.
Booth pulled into a parking spot and turned off the ignition. He made no move to get out but Brennan quickly pulled off her seatbelt and reached for the handle.
"Bones."
Brennan paused, let her hand fall into her lap, and turned her head.
"What?"
He tapped the area above his left eye.
"Are we really not going to talk about it?"
"I'm not the one not talking about it."
"Then why haven't you said anything?"
"Why haven't you?"
"I just thought that since you're the one who attacked me, you would say something."
"Well I think that since you are the reason I hit you, then, maybe you should talk to yourself."
Brennan nodded her head emphatically on the last word and opened the door.
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"Hi, I'm special agent Booth. This is my-."
"I'm a forensic anthropologist. Dr. Brennan."
The blonde girl shook their hands and nodded her head.
"Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Actually, we're conducting an investigation and we recovered some evidence that the victim may have been here before he died."
"That's awful," the girl interjected.
"Yes. Can we talk to the owner?"
"Just hold on."
The girl turned in her chair and picked up the phone.
Brennan noticed the cramped room and wondered why this place needed an office. It was barely bigger than a bathroom but was crammed with everything imaginable. There was even a metal statue in the shape of a washing machine, which amused Brennan for some reason.
"My uncle James will be here shortly."
"Thank you. Um, do you mind if me and my partner take a look around?"
"No, go ahead."
They walked out, Brennan a little annoyed that Booth was right on her tail. She instantly moved towards the far wall to the detergent dispensing machine.
"Booth, they sell Spride."
He clicked his tongue and looked around.
"So is it safe to say he may have been here?"
"I would think so. None of his relatives use this type."
"No one we interviewed used this stuff," Booth knocked on the blue picture of Spride.
"What does everyone have against this?"
"It's probably not as well manufactured. Less fine. More junk than the others."
"Well, someone obviously uses it."
Brennan turned and tried to see where he was looking to.
"What do you see?"
Booth shook his head and walked away to the standing dryers.
"Do you have any of your tweezer, clipper, things?"
"Tongs, Booth."
Brennan handed him a small pair and he gingerly knelt down and tried to creep his hand into the small space between the dryer and the wall. When his hand came back out, the tongs had gathered a considerable amount of dust, but also a small, blue, cardboard piece covered in dry blood.
"What do you make of that?"
"I don't know. "
Taking it from his hand, Brennan studied the piece.
"It's definitely been here a few days, but it might have nothing to do with the case."
"My uncle is here to see you," the blonde girl gasped out as she ran towards them.
"Hi, I'm James Stephens. You've met my niece Ellie."
Booth extended his hand, but the man did not hold his out. Awkwardly, Booth pulled back his hand and glanced at Brennan. She raised her eyebrows in response.
"I'm sorry, agent Booth. I have what people call OCD. There was no offense intended."
"None taken, Mr. Stephens. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"
"Go on."
"Have you seen this boy?"
Booth showed him the photo and Mr. Stephens glanced at Ellie. He nodded his head and rubbed a hand over his pale face.
"I haven't seen him for a while. He came around to help Ellie clean up around.
I…sometimes I just can't."
He blushed and choked on his laugh before his face turned somber.
"Is he alright?"
"The boy is dead, Mr. Stephens," Brennan broke through.
"Bones."
Brennan ignored him.
"How often did he come around here?"
Mr. Stephens looked at Ellie and shrugged his shoulders.
"Once a week. I paid him in candy. His mother doesn't know that."
Booth looked at Bones for a second.
"She doesn't know you give him candy or that he helps out around here?"
There was a pause. Then, Ellie spoke up.
"He didn't want her to know. He said that she would make him stop coming here."
"Why would she make him stop?"
Mr. Stephens shook his head and made a waving gesture at Ellie. She hesitated, and then left the small office.
"Ms. Hart, she doesn't like Ellie."
"Why not?"
"About a year ago, Ellie graduated, but she was pregnant. Ellie lost the baby, but Ms.
Hart never got over how she was pregnant in the first place."
"So she has something against your niece?"
"Ms. Hart stopped coming here the day she found out Ellie was pregnant. She forbid that boy to come here, even though he was near in love with Ellie."
"What do you mean he was in love with Ellie," Brennan asked shortly.
"You know, puppy love."
"And you haven't seen him in how long?"
"Seven days I think."
"Was there anyone who looked like he was watching Thomas?"
"People come in here all the time, but I never noticed anything."
"Do you have one of those boxes of Spride?"
Mr. Stephens frowned and nodded his head. Reaching behind his small desk, he pulled out a small blue box and handed it over to Booth.
"Why would you want Spride?"
"Just part of the investigation."
Booth and Brennan stood, but as Booth walked out, he turned around.
"D you know anyone who uses Spride?"
"Are you kidding me? Nobody uses that stuff unless they have to."
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"What do you think?" Booth asked as they sat in the SUV, still in the parking lot.
"We need to get back to the lab."
"Why?"
Brennan glanced at him darkly.
"Okaaay. Lab it is."
Booth pulled out and began the drive. After a few minutes of silence, he broke it.
"Are you ever going to talk to me?"
"I am talking to you."
"No. I mean talk to me."
Brennan studied her hands, flexed her right, and looked up at his face. She saw his small smile as he had realized what she had done.
"What you did was wrong Booth."
"It wasn't that wrong. There are worse things I've done."
"But this was to me."
He put his sunglasses on, thankful that he could hide his bruise.
"I didn't think you would get that mad at me."
"Well I did."
"I know you did. I have the evidence."
They sat in silence a few more minutes, but now the silence wasn't deafening. It was calmer, but still not like it used to be.
"There wasn't any coal, was there?"
Booth rubbed a hand over his mouth.
"No. There wasn't anything but that cardboard."
Brennan frowned and chewed on her tongue.
"Did he seem strange to you?"
"Who? Stephens? The guy has OCD, of course he seemed strange to me."
"No, I mean besides that?"
"I don't think so. Why?"
"Nothing."
"What are you thinking, Bones?"
"That I should have hit you harder."
"Maybe so. But you won't get that chance again."
"You never know."
Brennan looked out the window.
Booth again watched as she stared out the window. She was distracted. He fought the uncertainty that she would be mad as all sin forever. She was his Bones after all. Eventually, they would move on. They had to.
"I'm sorry, Bones."
With a shake of her head, Brennan leaned back and put her head against the head rest.
"I mean that."
He looked over to her.
"I just…I had to make sure you were okay."
"You're need to protect is getting old, Booth. I know you're the alpha male but I am not
the subordinate-."
"Okay, hold on. Can you skip this whole alpha male, dog, rabbit, whatever thing you think I have?"
"Fine."
"Good. I just wanted to say that, as much as I may want to, I will sincerely try to butt out of your personal life."
He waited a beat.
"And this would be where you tell me that you're sorry that you hit me."
"Why?"
"Because it was the heat of the moment thing, and you regret it."
"I don't regret it."
"What? You have to."
"Nope. I'm fine with it."
"Thanks, Bones. Glad to know you don't care that you took a shot at me."
By the time they pulled up to the Jeffersonian, most of the harsh tension between had disintegrated. Beneath it all, they were friends. Brennan was still mad, that wouldn't change. But Angela had a made a good point. Booth was an act now man, not an, I've got something to say to you before you do that man.
Brennan got out of the SUV and motioned for him to roll down the window.
"I'm not sorry, Booth."
He stared at her a moment and took off his protective eye wear.
Raising his eyebrows, he replied, "I know."