AN: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I truly appreciate your feedback...snide comments about my choice of football team aside! :)

The Officer in the Oubliette

Chapter Six: Gargoyles and Goldschläger

Natural History Museum – Tuesday - 17:30

Brennan paused to admire the varied collection of terracotta gargoyles that adorned the impressive facade of the Natural History Museum. She liked to imagine that they were standing guard, ready to bust free from their hard clay confines to do battle with anyone intending to harm the much beloved building or its precious collection of evolutionary wonders and truths. She continued to look upwards as she stood there motionless on the stone steps which led to the main entrance and marvelled at the spired towers as they speared arrow-like into the clear blue sky high above her.

This was her fourth visit to the museum and she found that she was just as excited to be there as the first time. She walked up the remaining few steps and entered the building. Passing quickly through the obligatory security check, she retrieved her bag from the end of the rubberised conveyer belt and continued into the imposing Central Hall. She was again struck by the beautiful Romanesque interior and immediately cast her gaze upwards beyond the exposed glass and iron to admire the intricately painted vaulted ceiling. The stencilled panels, which she knew to be reminiscent of the designs found on Minoan pottery, depicted plants and animals, some now long extinct. She reluctantly, after many minutes, lowered her gaze. She was going to be late.

Hurrying across the busy Hall, passing the imposing 105-foot long replica Diplodocus skeleton (which her friend, Professor Woods, had informed her was affectionately known as "Dippy"), Brennan climbed the first run of stairs. Turning right at the creamy white marble statue of Charles Darwin, she continued up the flying staircase to the second floor. The offices were located above the North Hall and she knew that she had to pick up the pace if she had any hope of making it on time. She shouldn't have stopped to look at the ceiling. That was a mistake. A short while later, she reached the guarded entrance to the corridor of offices which belonged to museum staff and visiting academics.

She gave her name to the uniformed female guard and handed over her Jeffersonian ID card. The guard entered a few keystrokes into her computer and politely informed Brennan that the process would take only a moment. As good as her word, a few seconds later, she handed back the ID card and motioned for her to pass through the metal detector. Brennan stepped through the grey rectangular gateway; the high-tech machine clearly at odds with the otherwise aged surroundings. She thanked the guard and hurried on. Finally, close to the end of the long and otherwise deserted corridor, she reached the office of the museum's Director of Science. She knocked once and waited only a heartbeat before the door was flung open by a bearded olive skinned man wearing the thinnest of smiles.

"Yes?" The man ground out the question. His dark eyes drilling into her own in a way that made her feel altogether unwelcome and very uncomfortable.

"I'm here to see Professor Woods. I have an appointment."

"You're Doctor Brennan."

"Yes."

"In that case, he's in there." The man then squeezed past her. She was forced to flatten herself against the doorframe to allow him room. She watched as he stalked down the corridor, reversing her freshly made footsteps. Weren't British people meant to be polite? Brennan pondered this as she entered the office, finding no sign of her friend. Remembering that David often spent his time in the small lab attached, she closed the door behind her and walked through the cluttered space and into the equally chaotic laboratory.

"Temperance! You made it."

"David, it's good to see you again. Am I too late?"

"No. I'm still on with the team. Come...come." The grey haired man beckoned her over to where he was sitting, a computer monitor positioned in front of him.

"Erica – she's here!" He nudged the pencil-thin screen to the right and motioned for Brennan to take the seat next to him.

"Doctor Brennan...it's a real pleasure to meet you. I mean see you." Brennan watched as the image of a slim woman with pixie-cut blonde hair moved fully into the frame.

"Doctor Koskinen is heading up the team in Saudi for us, Temperance."

"Doctor Koskinen. It's nice to see you, too. Are you at the dig site now?"

"Yes, we're broadcasting from Rub' al Khali. Comms has been a trial, but today we are lucky." The other woman explained, the distinctive stress on the first syllable in every word signifying to Brennan her likely Finnish origins.

"How are things progressing?"

"Progress is good. I emailed some photographs taken at the site over the past week...do you have them, David?"

"Yes, Erica. They are something!"

Brennan couldn't help but feel envious. As she listened to the Doctor, it quickly became clear that the implications of the work taking place in the Middle Eastern desert would be far-reaching. Being able to examine history firsthand was one of reasons she wanted to be an anthropologist. Knowing that you are seeing things that most people will only read about in text books or see on the news is transformative, and she easily recalled, addictive. Half an hour later, Brennan bid farewell to the increasingly pixelated form of Erica Koskinen and wondered if she could honestly bear to send Ms. Wick to join the dig team in her place.

"So, Temperance?"

"It's certainly an exciting proposition. I am tempted."

"So join us. The whole team would be incredibly grateful to have you there."

"But surely there are people better qualified? I'm not a palaeontologist after all. And there's my work in D.C. to consider. I have commitments there."

"Surely those commitments are longer term. They'll still be there when you return from Saudi."

"That is true."

"It really is an amazing opportunity. I have colleagues and grad students queuing up to go. But I want you. In fact, before you arrived, I had a particularly difficult conversation with one of my brightest students – he wanted to go, of course, but I had to turn down his request."

Brennan remembered the olive-skinned man that opened the door to her earlier and was now able to add context to his sullen, frosty demeanour.

"Look, I don't mean to pressure you...well, okay, perhaps I do, but you and I both realise just how monumental the find could be. We're talking about a transitional fossil showing a point in the evolution of apes from monkeys. It could help us finally make sense of how the shape of 'Catarrhine' skulls changed over time. We might actually be able to cut through the competing hypotheses and reach consensus."

"I believe you are giving me the tough sell. And as I said, I am tempted, but I can't commit to leaving D.C. at this time. Booth and I... The work we do is important. People rely on me, as I rely on them."

David Woods smiled despite his keen disappointment, his white-grey beard tickling his top lip and the underside of his nose. He would have disbelieved the words coming from his friend's mouth if not for the fact that she was sitting mere inches away, the truth of her words evident in her eyes. Her decision not to join the team was of course a resounding blow. Temperance Brennan was the very best and her expertise and unrivalled dedication would be of huge benefit. But mostly he was thrilled for her. It was time she put down some roots. Time she allowed herself to get tangled up in life and in other people.

"I can offer the team one of my brightest interns. Ms. Wick is certainly competent and has requisite field experience."

"Then we'll be very pleased to welcome her." He pushed his metal-framed glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose and switched off the computer monitor. Standing, he offered his hand to Brennan.

"Come, let's get out of here. There's a sinfully good Polish restaurant just down the road, and you know how I hate to eat alone."

"Since we last met, I have become vegetarian."

"Really? Do you still shoot?"

"Only at the shooting range. I no longer hunt."

"Well, I'm sure they'll have something to whet your appetite. In any case, they'll have a well-stocked bar. Come on, let's forget work for a moment and catch up properly."

xxx

A short time later, Brennan found herself back on the steps leading to the museum entrance. As she waited for her friend to finish his conversation with an eager student who had run into them just as they made it outside, she again considered the buildings' cathedral-like structure. The buff and cobalt-blue terracotta exterior she knew had provided hardy resistance to the corrosive smog commonplace in Victorian London. That the buildings' outer shell was also beautiful was a wonderful bonus. The relief carvings of plants and animals placed there by the museum's designer to represent biological diversity loomed high above her, blanketing all below them their variously shaped shadows. She shivered - a mostly automatic reaction to the momentary loss of the warming glow of sunshine.

"Sorry about that. Mr Kennedy is one of my erm...most dedicated students." David said as he re-joined her halfway down the steps.

"I understand. There's no need to apologise."

"So, do you miss teaching?" He asked, swinging his tan leather satchel over his shoulder as they walked the rest of the way down the steps and then towards the tall gates that marked the Cromwell Road entrance.

"I still teach, but now most of my time is spent in the lab or out in the field."

"Speaking of being 'out in the field', how's that FBI man of yours?"

"He's not 'my man', David."

"I meant it only in the loosest sense, of course."

"Booth is fine."

"Good. You know we've never been formally introduced. What say you two come for dinner at my place later this week?"

"I'll ask him, but I would enjoy that."

"And Booth, is it his sort of thing...hanging out with a fussy old professor?"

"Booth is a people person. He gets on with everyone."

"Why does that feel like a slight on my personality?"

"I didn't intend it to be. I just mean to say that..."

"Relax, Temperance. I'm just having fun with you." David looked over at her, a genuine smile igniting a twinkle in his clear blue eyes. He didn't see enough of this woman. He needed to right that wrong.

"Okay, so we go left here." He threaded his arm through hers and when he felt her tense up, he held on. As he had hoped, a breath later, she relaxed and he tugged her along as they weaved in and out of people - who like them, were all competing for space on the busy pavement.

A few minutes later, they arrived at "Gessler at Daquise". David held open the door and Brennan ducked inside, glad to escape the busy street. Shrugging off her light jacket, she immediately registered the myriad smells which drifted all about her and which instantly caused her stomach to tighten in anticipation. She hadn't eaten anything since breakfast and she suddenly realised that she was in fact, famished. She and Booth had been promised lunch by Harriet and Rob but then the four of them had got caught up in the initial flurry of activity which she now understood typically announced the start of an investigation. It was Booth who had eventually pointed out that she needed to get going, or else risk missing her appointment with David.

They were greeted at the entranceway by a smiling, smartly-dressed man who took their coats and showed them to a table towards the rear of the cosy restaurant. Brennan appreciated the slightly austere decor – the distressed plaster-style walls and the dark wooden cabinets which contrasted with the plain white tiles and soft lighting. She instantly liked the place - it was simply elegant, unfussy and very welcoming. And the delicious smells wafting all around added to her happy mood. She could discern the familiar fragrance of fried onions, bread, beetroot and vinegar but they were vying for prominence among others which were entirely unknown to her.

"So, first things first...what are we drinking?"

Brennan perused the menu until she found the drinks options, which were plentiful. "Perhaps we should keep it simple, authentic." She suggested as she relayed the extensive list of vodkas.

"Yes, yes. Good call. While in Poland, eh."

Three shots each of good vodka later, David settled his knife and fork on his empty plate and rested back in the wooden high-backed chair. Brennan, a short time later, mirrored his actions. The pair now suitably full and teetering on the verge of being tipsy continued to talk animatedly about the Saudi expedition and about Brennan's work back in D.C.

"Okay, I vote we bid adieu to the vodka and finish up this fine meal with a schnapps...something to complement the apple tart that I simply must have - full stomach and scary cholesterol count be damned."

Brennan nodded her agreement but when their assiduously attentive waiter returned to take their order, she passed on dessert. She simply hadn't room. Booth would've had pie. Just like her friend, he would have made room, unable to resist the lure of a sweet finish to his meal. She did however join David when he ordered a shot of Goldschläger. At first, her taste buds weren't sure how to process the strong cinnamon flavour and the unmistakably alcoholic kick. But as the liquid slid down her throat, her taste buds made their mind up and relished the warming sweetly spiced bite which came at the end.

"Yum." David sighed contentedly as he placed his empty glass on the table. "Back to that partner of yours, Temperance."

"What about him?"

"Is he still single?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. Now, I was thinking..."

"But I thought you were in a relationship, David? Also, to the best of my knowledge, Booth isn't interested in men."

"I'm talking about for you, of course."

"Booth and I are just partners."

"So there's no potential for anything more?"

"We're friends. And there's a sexual attraction, certainly...but our work comes first, and besides, I'm not looking for a relationship."

"So he is. Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes. Booth considers being in a committed monogamous relationship to be important. I would say that it's a priority for him."

"Relationships, committed ones at that can be rewarding."

"I understand that this is true for some people."

"But not for you?"

"No."

"Do you think he wants to be in a committed relationship with you?"

"Booth understands my position - and so, no. Besides, I don't think I'm his type."

"Ridiculous. You, my dear, are stunning."

"I have no doubt that Booth is sexually attracted to me. I meant that we are not suited in other ways."

"Such as?"

"There are marked intellectual and financial differences."

"And?"

"We differ in our religious beliefs, in that I have none. Booth on the other hand is Catholic and goes to church every Sunday, when he can."

"And?"

"Isn't that enough?"

"No. The differences you mention will add flavour to a relationship, sure, but they aren't showstoppers."

"David, we work for the FBI. We can't be together, even if we wanted to."

"Where there's a will there's a way."

"I don't think the idiom is appropriate in our case."

"You know I don't mean to meddle or pry. Well actually, I do mean to pry...it's just that we've known each other for many years now, and I want you to be happy."

"I am happy."

"I mean as happy as you can possibly be."

"David...I..."

He heard the key change in her tone and knew he needed to back off. As always in these situations, he'd pushed too far. It was just that she'd changed so much since she started working at the Jeffersonian and helping out the FBI. And that Booth bloke was part of the reason why, he just knew it. She was less guarded, quicker to laugh, but more importantly she had learned to trust again. He knew about her parents and her brother, and once she had mentioned spending time in the foster care system. Of course, when he tried to find out more, she brushed aside his questions and changed the subject. Now that he thought about it, he realised with dismay that that conversation had taken place almost a decade earlier.

"Okay, I'll shut up now...promise. I'm sorry for droaning on. Let's blame it on the Goldschläger, shall we?"

Thankfully, Brennan smiled and he knew he was forgiven.

AN: The NHM in London is one of my most favourite places to be. I try to visit at least once every couple of years. Now, even though I can describe the look of the building, I was certainly not familiar with the materials used in its construction - for that, I referenced the museum's website - sorry, can't work out how to add a link here.

The Polish restaurant mentioned in this chapter is real. The food is delicious and the decor is hopefully as I've described.

The dig site in the Saudi Arabian desert is a product of my imagination. However, the fossil find is real. The partial skull and teeth were discovered in western Saudi Arabia, somewhere near the Red Sea. More info available from the Guardian Newspaper website - search "fossil-skull-saadanius".

And to round off: I've never tried "Goldschläger". I'm not a fan of schnapps of any variety. *shudders*

Thanks for reading.