Part 1-
Brennan crossed her hands. She uncrossed them. She crossed them again. Something was missing here. She looked at the file for the case. She just knew she was missing something right in front of her face.
Holding her face in her hands, Brennan shut her eyes. Angela, Hodgins, and Zack were constantly watching her. Cam had been avoiding her. And Booth? Well, she hadn't heard from him since last night. And to top it all off, she still didn't know what to do. Should she go? Should she stay?
Looking at her watch, Brennan didn't think there had ever been a day than went by so slowly. It was only one o'clock.
An hour later, she timed it perfectly, the phone rang.
"Dr. Brennan. Forensic Anthropologist at the Jeffersonian."
"Dr. Brennan? This is Dr. Goodman."
"Dr. Goodman? What?"
Brennan smiled in spite of herself.
"Why in the world are you calling me?"
"Ha. Hello to you to. Nice to see your manners haven't changed."
"Well, hello then. How's the sabbatical?"
"Hhmm…it's relaxing. You should try one."
"I don't have the time."
"That's what I hear. I also heard that Gail Perkins has inquired into the business of stealing my forensic anthropologist."
"Stealing is not the right word."
"So, Cam told me."
"She told you?"
"Oh, yes she did. She wanted to know what she should do."
With a frown Brennan twisted the phone cord.
"Why would she ask that?"
"You are the best, Dr. Brennan. She wants to keep you. However, because of your stubbornness to sign multiple year contracts, we have no feasible means to detain you should you wish to leave."
"Don't sound so sad about it, Dr. Goodman."
"Ha. But I am. Why would you want to leave after all this time?"
Again, she leaned back in her chair and flung an arm over her eyes.
"I'm ready for a change."
"Uh huh. That's your reason?"
"Why wouldn't it be?"
"You are not the type of person to just leave on a whim, Dr. Brennan. Before this offer even came about, you must have been thinking about it. Am I right?"
"How do always know the strangest things?"
"Years of experience. Years and years."
"Actually, I'm not sure if I'm taking the position."
"And why not?"
"I like my job here. I like the people here."
"But…?"
"But I don't know."
"Well, I suggest that you find out. And soon. But you must always remember that you must go where you are happy. Being someplace where you loathe is no way to live. And the Jeffersonian is that place that you love. I know you still do. It's just a matter of finding that out again."
"That helps me absolute none."
"Ha. Well, some of us are just insane fools. Just know that there are countless other
people ready to throw away anything slightly tainted by anyone else. And I hope that isn't what happened there while I was gone. That someone tainted you, our lab, our people."
Brennan nodded her head, clearly not paying that deep attention considering she had no idea what he was getting at. Once he hit the part about people throwing tainted stuff away, she froze. Tainted. Trash. People. With a start, she jumped out of her chair.
"Dr. Goodman, you just solved the case!"
"What? I did? How?"
"I can't explain it you now, but you're absolutely right. Absolutely. I've got to go. I'll
talk to you later."
"Okay then. I'll try calling some other time."
Brennan hung up the phone. Grabbing the file, her jacket, and cell phone, she ran out of her office dialing Booth's number.
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Part 2-
Booth looked at Bones. When she nodded her head, he nodded his own and started walking towards the Spotless Clean doors.
"Mr. Stephens, can I talk to you?"
Mr. Stephens came out from his office, telling Ellie to stay put.
"What can I do for you Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan?"
"Well, we just needed to ask you a few more questions about the night Thomas Hart was murdered. Do you have the time?"
"Uh, sure. Business is slow tonight as you can tell."
He motioned to the empty place and placed his hands in his pockets.
"You didn't see Thomas that night, did you?"
"No, I didn't."
"And your niece, she didn't either?"
"Oh, she would have told me."
"And so you never saw him at all?"
"No. I didn't. Why are asking me all these questions?"
Booth nodded at Brennan.
"Mr. Stephens, you said you have OCD, correct?"
"Yes, why?"
"Whenever I was searching the crime scene, I found a chain necklace."
Booth pulled the baggie with the chain in it from his jacket pocket.
"When my assistant examined it, he said it was made of pure white gold. He also said whoever threw it away had to be insane. And you, Mr. Stephens, fit that bill."
"What are you talking about?"
Mr. Stephens took a small step back.
"My assistants also did a little checking of who had bought pure white gold chains around here."
Booth jangled the bag.
"And guess whose name came up."
"That was stolen from me!"
"When?" Booth asked.
"A month ago."
"Did you report it?"
"I couldn't."
"Why not?"
The man looked like he was about to cry.
"I just couldn't."
"You know, see, something just tells me that you're lying, Stephens. And you know what else? This chain, was covered in blood. And do you know whose blood it was? Take a guess. Come on, it should be easy."
"You threw it away, because even if though it was only your blood, you thought that Thomas's blood had somehow gotten on it and tainted it. And your compulsion controls your life so much, you just couldn't handle it."
"I didn't do anything."
"You see, I still think you're lying," Booth remarked with a shake of his head.
Brennan dug through her purse, and pulled another huge baggie. Inside it, was the washing machine piece that she had thought was so amusing. When Stephens saw that, he paled and nearly fainted.
"My assistant, Zach, looks just like you, Mr. Stephens. Same height, weight, probably the same muscle tone, by the looks of it. And you can produce just the right amount of force to practically bludgeon an eight year old boy to death."
"I didn't do anything!!"
"I don't think you're understanding us here," Booth took another step forward and grabbed an inch of Stephens shirt just for good measure.
"We went to your house. Do you know what we found? Yep. A closet in the basement, near a coal furnace. Imagine that? And do you know what else we found? You guessed it. The handy dandy old Spride that my partner knows can be used as some sort of heavy cleansing disinfectant. And this little metal washing machine just happens to fit perfectly with the trauma to Thomas's skull. Is that just coincidence?"
Stephens closed his eyes and a tear rolled down his face. He looked at Brennan.
"I didn't mean to kill him. I just, I just turned my back for one second and he fell from the folding table. I told him to not be playing around, but he like to act like Superman. The next thing I knew, he was on the floor with a broken arm." His breath caught and a sob escaped him.
Ellie came slowly out of the office.
"I told him to hush. But he just kept crying. And he wouldn't shut up. He said he was going to tell his mom, but I couldn't let him do that."
"Why not?"
"That woman, never trusted my family. I don't know why. If she had found out about this, do you know what would have happened to Ellie? She'd be all alone. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't."
Brennan clenched her jaw. Did he really think he would get sympathy from her?
"And than justifies killing a healthy eight year old boy? Look at this!"
Brennan shoved the washing machine into his face and while he jerked back, Booth just accidentally shoved him forward.
"Look at it Mr. Stephens. You killed a defenseless child with this. Do you really think you can get my sympathy?
"Uncle James?"
Ellie's voice rang out with fear and she came to stand by his side. She looked into his eyes and shook her head.
"Don't tell me that you did that. Please don't."
Stephens looked down at his niece, then back to Booth. He shook his head and the tears began to fall.
"I was just trying to protect her, agent Booth! That's it. Wouldn't you do the same?"
"You know what the problem with that is?" Booth asked in a whisper.
"She didn't do anything wrong in the first place. James Stephens, you are under arrest for the kidnapping and murder of Thomas Hart. Anything you say, can and will be used in the court…."
Booth led the man outside where an unmarked police car had been waiting.
Ellie, the girl, watched forlornly. Slowly, she turned around to Brennan and the tears began their slow trek down her face.
"What am I going to do now? What? What? Where am I going to go?"
The girl sobbed once, swallowed it, but the next one came and she let herself go.
"What-am-I-go-ing-to-do? Do-you-know?"
And that was it. It really was. Ellie fell to her knees with hands covering her face, her body racked with uncontrollable sobs that threatened to shatter her.
Brennan didn't even hesitate. She stepped forward, knelt down, and put her arms around the woman, who was still a girl. Ellie unwrapped her arms around herself, and turned them to hold Brennan. She clung to Brennan like she was going to fall off the edge of a
cliff. But Brennan held on just as tight.
"It's alright, Ellie."
"I'm-all-a-lone."
"Sssshhhh. It will be fine."
"I-don't-have-an-y-one-else."
Brennan held on tighter, a tear running down her cheek, reminded of herself at the age of fifteen.
"You will get past this. You are not alone," Brennan whispered fiercely into the girl's ear.
Booth stood in the doorway, watching them. Two women, years apart, alike in every single way. Each clinging to someone to hold.
I know. it was long. lol. R&R please. next chap has B/B dealing with the...you know.