Sorry it took so long for me to get this up. I have finals in less than a week. But, my muse has ADHD and this chapter spawned from "studying."
Okay, I'm switching up the format for this chapter. But you guys are smart; you'll figure it out. I don't think it's confusing, but I didn't think that identifying pitches out of thin air was difficult either.
Enjoy!
B&B
Day 35
B&B
"Daisy, measure the volume of Adi's cranium and approximate brain size. We will need to compare this to the cranium size of H. sapiens and H. floresiensis."
"Of course Dr. B," the young anthropologist lifted the skull to a separate examination table.
Brennan was immensely pleased with the progress of the dig team. Aside from herself and Daisy dedicated to examining the remains, the rest of the team coordinated press efforts, and continued to turn the soil of the excavation site for bone fragments or other artifacts preserved alongside the body.
As her time at the site grew, Brennan could feel the stress of FBI work waning. It was like the promise of new discovery and the power of tropical air, had begun to cleanse her soul; if she had one (which was improbable). In just 330 days, she knew she should be ready to deal with murderers once again.
But a year was a long time. What if Booth didn't want to do their "thing" anymore? He loved to be a soldier, and he was excellent at it too. What if he wanted to enlist again?
He might, you know…
"Dr. B? Are you okay?" Daisy waved a hand in front of her face. "You've been staring at that microscope for an awfully long time."
"I'm studying the bone!" she snapped.
"But there's nothing under the scope…"
Perhaps she had "zoned out." She stood up, slightly dazed and dizzy. "I'm taking a break finish; finish the cranium measurements, then move on to precise measurements of the tibias, fibulas, and femurs."
"I will," Daisy called as Brennan left the hut.
The hot Maluku sun pounded upon her as she searched for suitable shelter. Heat rash, or miliaria, from seat formed bumpy ridges on her shoulders. The heat was beginning to take its toll; she was already noticeably tanner due to the creation of melanin.
"Dr. B!" Keith Merrill called from under a tree, hiding from the mid-day heat. "Come take a load off."
"Even super heroes have to rest!" Dr. Debra Gresh, another anthropologist on the team laughed. "Look at Mikel," she pointed to the slumbering man.
Brennan half-smiled, "I'm heading to the communications building."
"Chill inside? Not a bad idea at all," Merrill said.
"You need to keep searching for bone fragments," she chided lightly, walking across open land towards her destination.
It was wonderful to be back in nature. Merrill said that she was a "regular boy scout"; she wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but she assumed that it was a compliment due to the context of their conversation.
While the communications hut, like all the others, was void of climate control, it had an ice box. In this head, there was nothing Brennan wanted to do more than to scoop a bag of ice up, and place it on the back of her neck to aid lowering of her core body temperature.
She collapsed to the couch, sighing heavily. She would admit, this dig was very physically demanding; more so than being neck deep in a mass grave. Had she known earlier that she would direct the expedition, she would have planned some sort of conditioning.
The team's lone phone rang.
Oh great…
The last thing Brennan wanted to deal with was some crazy religious fanatic, threatening some sort of terrible hellfire on the team for evolutionary research. Or a raving reporter, looking for a few quick sound bites to get viewers and thus money. National Geographic was already planning a feature on their dig and she was set to appear on National Public Radio's "Science Friday" in the coming weeks.
The thought of letting the photo go to answering machine crossed her mind; but of course, they had no such machine.
Brennan pulled herself from the couch with a grunt, grabbing the phone out of its wall-mounted cradle.
"Banda Islands of the Maluku, director Dr. Temperance Brennan speaking."
Her eyes widened when she heard the voice on the other end of the line.
B&B
"Damn it! What do you think this is? An NPR program?" Booth fumed at his new batch of soldiers.
After the Army deemed his training "a great triumph," command decided to mix some regular Army infantry in with the Rangers. Being around Rangers for so long made him forget how different they were from the minimally trained infantry. They were more disciplined, better trained, and a whole lot less aggravating.
One infantry man was particularly trying on Booth's patience. He was Corporal Richard "Dick" Patterson. Herring had taken to calling him "Peppermint Patty" due to his "freshness," and not by smell.
"Hey Peppermint Patty," Herring screamed in the Corporal's face. "Quit your frakin' snickering and give me 100!"
"I don't have any cash on me," he muttered while dropping into a push-up position.
"Alright then, 200 push-ups then," the Master Sergeant eyed Patty with eyes of flame.
Sergeant Major Booth leered at the group before him. "This isn't hard stuff," he smacked the tactical board behind him. "If you can't pick this up, maybe a run will jog your brains." He nodded to Herring. "Run 'em until you feel like making them stop."
"You got it boss."
Like an expert shepherd, Herring rounded up the soldiers, pointing them on a running route.
Booth missed his last bunch of trainees. They were Rangers; they had character, they were strong and respectful. He really missed having Private Bartlett on base; the kid was easy to talk to. Now, as of yesterday, he was deployed to some unstable region of the Afghani desert.
This training class was the easiest month these soldiers would have out here. Terrorists wouldn't give them meal breaks. Al' Queda wouldn't give them time to sleep. The Taliban wouldn't give do-overs.
The last think he wanted was to see any of these guys, coming back to base in a body bag being loaded into a refrigerated compartment for transport back to the states.
He checked his watch; plenty of time to make a call to the Maluku. Booth dashed to the recreation building, whipping out his calling card at light speed.
Frantically, he dialed the number off the crumpled, printed email in his pocket. He kept the email close to his heart; reading it helped to ward off homesickness. Booth pulled out the picture he had of her; he wanted to see her as he talked to her.
"Pick up pick up pick up," he grumbled, playing with the pay phone's cord.
The phone rang…
He crossed his fingers and prayed to God that someone would pick up.
And rang…
As long as that jerk he talked to last time didn't answer, he would be enthralled to hear even Daisy Wick's voice.
And ran some more…
"Seriously?" he said to no one in particular.
Finally, the sound of someone picking up flooded the line.
The voice he heard made his heart skip a beat.
B&B
"Banda Islands of the Maluku, director Dr. Temperance Brennan speaking."
"Bones?"
"Booth?"
"That's Sergeant Major Booth," his chest puffed with pride.
"Does that make me Dr. Brennan?"
"I don't think so…" he laughed.
"A-Are you okay? I-I told you not to be a hero, not to be yourself…it took so long for you to call…"
"I called like two weeks ago and some jerk picked up."
"Ugghh, Mays. I don't even want to talk about him."
"Is this Mays guy dangerous? Is he buggin' you?" concern leaked from his voice.
"Don't digress, I asked you how you were."
"I'm fine, really. I've been on base the entire time."
"Keep it that way…it's only logical," emotion seeped into her voice. "How are you doing?"
"I'm in awesome shape, my hair is starting to grow back-"
"Your hair? Did you sustain a head injury?"
"Nah, the Army shaved my head once I got over here."
"You must look weird," Brennan smiled.
"Thanks Bones, I really appreciate that!" he chuckled.
"What about you? How are the Maluku-poo-poo?"
"I don't know what that means…"
"No worries Bones! I was just riffing on your island."
"Well, research is progressing well."
"That's all you have to say?"
"Well the weather is rather nice."
"Right, rub it my face!" they shared a laugh. "I hate to cut this short, but I'm gonna have to step out in a moment."
"Oh…okay," she sounded hurt, weak even. "I really miss you."
"I miss you too Bones, but hey, only 330 days to go."
"But these last 35 have gone by so slowly…"
"Chin up. You're the one who said that time was relative, or something like that."
"So I did."
"I'll call when I can."
"Promise?"
"It's a promise."
"Bye Booth…"
"Bye Bones…"
B&B
Brennan regretfully placed the phone back in its cradle, her heart still fluttering from her contact with Booth. Their conversation had more or less been small talk; she was not yet ready to let loose her emotional turmoil that she kept bottled within. For an outsider looking in, one could easily say that she handled emotions poorly; instead of letting them fly free, she preferred to bottle them. But eventually, the cap on the container would become too difficult to twist and turn to seal it, and the emotions would flow out in a torrent.
Just hearing his voice again had reenergized her, but she had no idea as to why. Booth was just a person, one that played a large role in her life, but just a person. Having that sort of effect, well…was odd, but yet exciting all at the same time.
She couldn't help but wish no one present or absent could affect her in such a way. It made her dependant and in part, weak.
Booth has made you stronger…
Well…Booth did compensate well in areas that she lacked. He corrected her phrases and was able to interact more easily with others. But why?
As an anthropologist, Brennan dedicated her life to the study of humans. If H. neanderthalensis had an estimated 99.9% similarity to H. sapiens; she could barely imaging the potential for genetic diversity.
Booth though was not something to be empirically tested. No, he had to be observed in a completely new way; from very close.
"Hey Dr. B?" Daisy peered cautiously into the room. As an intern to the famous Temperance Brennan, one learns to tread lightly. "We would like you to be there when we try to extract any preserved mitochondrial DNA."
"Of course," Brennan stood, still feeling revitalized from her call with Booth.
"What were you doing here?" the young anthropologist asked as they walked side by side to the excavation hut.
"I spoke with Booth," she tried to downplay the significance of their conversation by mentioning it casually. Her relationship with Booth was her business (and most likely Angela's) alone.
Daisy squealed, "It must have been great right? Wait, don't answer that. I know it was. Your eyes are all twinkly and you have that look on your face."
"What look?"
"That look. The one for after you talk with Booth."
"I do not have designated facial expressions for that situation!"
"My eyes don't lie," Daisy smiled broadly.
Desperate to pull the discussion off herself, Brennan focused in on Adi. "Remember, any DNA we pull will be incomplete. Once collected, we will need specialized biologists to complete the genome."
Daisy nodded enthusiastically.
"And keep in mind that only 100 genes have been identified in the split between Homo neanderthalensis and Homo sapiens; don't be disappointed if we come up perceivably short."
"There's no way I could possibly be disappointed! I'm here, making anthropological history and having the time of my life!"
The young woman's response surprised Brennan; with her recent breakup with Sweets, she assumed that her rationality would be affected. Maybe Daisy was a bit like her in that science and study could easily fill the void of relationship failure.
It can never fill it completely…
If it did completely fill that void, she wouldn't be feeling unbelievably homesick and Booth-sick.
"Just take your time and be careful," she stressed. Daisy could become overexcited very easily.
Now all Brennan had to do was wait for another call from Booth. She hated being at his mercy like this. If only he had a phone number, she could initiate conversation also. But no, she had to wait until he came to her.
But there was always email.
Deciding to supervise Daisy, she pulled her laptop over and began to compose another email.
It was her only way of gaining some sort of control.
Just 330 more days of Booth-sickness…
B&B
Booth hung up the phone, a goofy grin spreading across his face. He couldn't help but feel incredibly awesome.
She was concerned about him. Really concerned. Enough so to ask him to stay on base.
This year was going to be much more difficult than he ever intended it to be. Yeah, Booth always missed her when she would go to book signings or hide in limbo for days at a time, but a year was a whole different scale. Comparing the two separations was like comparing the distance from where he was, around the world and back, to the distance from the earth to the sun. While both had a definitive distance, one was so incomprehensibly larger than the other that shey became impossible to compare.
He walked down the hall, heading for the lounge to take a load off.
"Sergeant Major Booth," General Bradley Nelson called.
"General Sir," Booth saluted.
"At ease man."
"What are you doing down in this dump sir?"
"I like to hang around with you and your men; it reminds me of my days of combat deployment in the Rangers."
"That's great Sir," he smiled. Somehow, Booth always ended up with decent superiors.
"What do you boys do for fun down here?"
"Most men will relax at the beer garden."
"That was my favorite thing too," the General slapped Booth on the back. "Now, I am glad I ran into you. How are those regular Army grunts doing with your Rangers?"
"Permission to speak freely sir?"
"Certainly Sergeant Major."
"They are nowhere close in quality to the Rangers."
"If it were up to you, would you continue to allow them to get in to your class?"
"Well…" Booth paused for a moment. He didn't want to insult the General; it had been his idea to get soldiers other than Rangers involved. "I think it is a good training for any man being deployed out here, but we might want to consider running a non-Ranger specific course."
"I heard you are always chalk full of good ideas."
"From who Sir?"
"Master Sergeant Herring; your second in command."
"You flatter me Sir."
"I don't mean to hold ya here, I know you probably got more important things to do than talk to an old Army guy like me."
Booth saluted again.
"Carry on."
Truth be told, Booth didn't have anything better to do. Yeah, he sat in the lounge, chatting with the other guys. But he planned on spending another evening looking at pictures of his son and Bones.
He really missed Parker. While it made him feel better that Parker wanted him to go forth and help others, he knew that leaving him forever was not an option.
If anything, Parker will know his dad died a hero…but what does that matter when he won't have a father at all?
He shook the morbid thought from his head immediately. While Bones didn't believe in the power of positive thoughts, he did. If he didn't think he would get out of here alive, he wouldn't. Bones would say that that was illogical; that mindset didn't change an outcome based on random chance.
Even if it didn't matter, it made him feel a heck of a lot better.
Booth moseyed to the barracks, deciding to catch a quick cat nap so that he could get his men up nice and early. Like when one first joined the Army, these guys had to be broken down before he could build them up as anti-terrorism experts. For him, an expert Ranger, this would be an easy task.
Work tomorrow or not, Booth couldn't wait for his next call or email with Bones. Solider or not, she was the one who had always, and would always, keep him going.
330 more days of Bones-sickness…
B&B
Well, I hope no one got lost in there! I tried to keep everything as clear as possible, but I didn't think it would have been fair just to give one of our favorite two characters a crack at the phone call.
In the last week or two, I've been trying to go green. Instead of running off Arizona Iced Teas, I'm running of the renewable resource of reviews. I love them so please review. Even if you are a lurker who just wants to say one or two words, anything you take the time to send me is awesome.
Keep in mind; I have finals next week, so it might be a week or two until the next chapter. But, once finals are done I'm on break!