Season 6.5 x 02: The Panic at the Disco ~ Written by Squinttoyou
A bulb flickered over the bar creating a strange slow-motion strobe as the light reflected off the mirrors on the wall and bounced out onto the dance floor. The bar was dark except for the string of recessed lighting left on for security reasons but the air still seemed to ring with the strident drumbeats and contrived conversation that had drowned out everything else only a short while ago. The smell of sweet alcohol and sweaty bodies lingered, settling over the surfaces of every object to stain the memory of this night and hint of the repeating musical pursuit and conquest that would play again tomorrow. The hollow sound of a metal stall door crashing against a wall in the bathroom gave evidence that not all the evening's rabble-rousers had moved on and the door squeaked as two forms stumbled from the ladies' room.
Soft grunts and swears filled the silence as a man dragged the limp form of his female companion onto the deserted club's main dance floor. "Oh," he gasped almost playfully as he carried her with one arm draped over his shoulders and his tight grip on her waist lifting her feet from the floor. "We never did get that last dance, did we?"
His date didn't answer as he suddenly twirled her in a circle.
"No?" he asked mockingly. "I suppose you are correct, it is getting late. Very well, back to work." He hitched her up to reestablish his hold on her waist and then resumed his walk across the room. The stairs were going to be a challenge and he took a deep breath as they climbed the first one. "I know you think this is terribly unfair," he said as they reached the first landing and he paused for breath. "But, of all the potential subjects here tonight you most closely matched the necessary physical specifications. It is important to approximate the subject as closely as possible."
He puffed his way up the next set of stairs and paused again. "It might help you to know that you are making the sacrifice in the name of science." Dragging her along the mezzanine her toes thudding against the floor he continued as if he were providing an academic lecture. "All theories, no matter how well conceived, must be tested through experimentation. Your small part in this will allow me to confirm that my plan will be successful." Having reached the next flight of stairs he resumed the climb, they were almost there. "So, my dear Fern…or was it Alice? Yes! Alice, let me be the first to congratulate you on your dedication to science."
Tired from the climb and the talk he opened the door in front of them and dumped her still unconscious form onto the floor. A soft moan escaped her in response to the fall and she began to stir. "Excellent timing," he said approvingly as he knelt next to her. "Wakey, wakey," he called as he gave her cheeks a slap.
The woman reacted and raised an arm to groggily brush away his rough treatment. When her eyes opened he released her. "Careful," he advised as he stood. "It will take a moment for the effects to completely dissipate."
"What?...Where?... What's happening?"
"Science, my dear, science! The wonderful world of science!"
She watched in a stupor as he secured a pair of long thick gloves over his hands and then picked up a set of sturdy thirty-centimeter forceps. His playful banter stopped as he focused on his task and his hands moved with slow smooth movements. Carefully he pulled the latch and opened the small access port in the terrarium next to his victim. Inspecting the cap he made certain it was safe and then tucked it into his pocket. "Are you ready?" he asked solicitously of the woman still trying to clear her fogged mind.
"What?"
Without explanation he used the forceps to grasp the enclosure and tip it onto his companion. Dark multi-legged bodies began to pour from the opening. She squealed in panic and then growled with distaste as she identified her assailants. "What the hell?" she yelled up at him and swatted away the disgusting insects.
"Oh, that's very helpful," he purred happily. "If they are angry that is best." He pulled the now empty container through the door and immediately restoppered it. The door had swung closed between them and he pulled it firmly shut trapping her inside.
She jumped to her feet in protest a sudden fear gripping her as her mind finally registered the danger of her situation. Her crawling companions continued to mill over and around her and she swatted and stomped in revulsion. That proved to be her undoing. Alarmed by the crushing blows of her feet and flailing arms they reacted. A chorus of trilling shrieks filled the air. Hundreds of tiny voices lifted in unison to sound a warning.
The noise was terrifying, the kind of sound that sent instinctual tremors of fear down the spine and her panic rose. Rattling the locked door she was trying to escape when it began. Her scream was loud and despite the anguish it conveyed it held not even a fraction of the pain she felt. The searing stab was intense and she slapped about her trying to rid herself of her attackers. The strident hiss grew louder and her eyes widened in fear. Her screams and her flailing became desperate and her legs kicked trying to shake free of the onslaught. The pain was excruciating as sting after sting was inflicted and her body reacted clumsily as the poison began to take effect.
He moved closer to see clearly through the glass as she collapsed again. "Excellent, the swelling and muscle spasms have already begun," he mumbled.
She was trying to crawl to the door, but her body wasn't able to respond. She managed a few clumsy paws in the right direction, but her arms were now completely unable to move at her command. Huge red welts covered her skin and as the movement angered them the tiny passengers inflicted more damage.
She would have cried out again as she convulsed on the floor but breathing was already becoming a laborious process. Massive twitching gripped her even as her limbs tightened into immobility and her eyes filled with tears as she heard the guttural sound of her throat filling with saliva she could not swallow.
He observed carefully making a few notes in his notebook while his eyes remained locked on the events on the floor. Patient, diligent and detailed observation was the lynchpin to every successful experiment. When it was finished he inventoried his belongings to make certain he had every retrievable object, it would be disastrous to ruin the project by leaving something behind. He regretted the loss of insects, but he had done all he could to insure they would not betray him and truthfully there was no expedient way to reclaim them without injury.
Taking one more look into the now silent sound booth he smiled, picked up his belongings and hers and walked away. He loved a good experiment; discovery always left him feeling the on top of the world. A nice brandy sounded good about now and he thought he might celebrate with a nightcap. Hell, he might even offer a toast to his research assistant.
18 Hours Later
"All I'm asking is why couldn't I have met you here?" Brennan asked as her partner pulled to a stop. "I do own my own car, a rather nice car, and I find after my return from Maluku that things like driving my own car are quite enjoyable. It's surprising actually how many simple things I missed while I was away."
"We all missed things, Bones," he agreed as turned to face her. "But a year was a long time and we need to get back in the swing of things, right?"
"Right," she agreed with a shade of a smile. "Reestablish our routine."
"Exactly! Me picking you up, that's one of our things," Booth explained in a soft voice. He felt that smile growing, the one he was sure he only made for her, and that voice he knew he should listen to told him to be careful. "I thought it would be good. You know, like the old days. Come on, let's go do our other thing," he added more playfully hoping to cut the sudden tension.
He was exiting and she followed from her side. "Maybe next time I could pick you up," she suggested hopefully.
"Forget it, Bones," he answered immediately. "You driving is NOT one of our things."
"Things change, Booth."
"Not that."
"Why are they lined up?" Brennan asked as she noted the long line of hopefuls along the side of the building.
"It's a hot dance club, Bones. They don't just let anyone in, you have to wait your turn if you aren't 'on the list'," Booth explained using air quotes to emphasize his opinion of such things.
"What list?"
"You know, the list; the A-list, the beautiful people, celebrities, big names. All those high profile people they want to party here so they draw a bigger line of losers waiting to get in."
Brennan eyed the cue of people dressed for nightlife as he held the door for her. "We don't have to wait in line," she noted almost smugly.
Booth's eyes traveled over her as he followed her inside. "No, you'd never have to wait, Bones," he agreed. There was something in his tone that made her turn and he nearly blushed before he squashed the need. "What?" he demanded.
"Hey! Sorry I'm late!" Hodgins called as he scrambled through the door behind them.
"We just arrived," Brennan assured him.
"Ok, well let's get to it," her colleague replied as he shifted the bag he carried on his shoulder. "This is my first weekend home with Ange since we got back in the States and I really didn't plan to spend it poking a dead body."
"I'm sorry to interrupt," Brennan said sincerely. "I'll apologize to Angela as well."
"No need, Dr. B," Hodgins assured her as they walked across the dance floor. "She understands. She wasn't even really mad about me canceling dinner at the best restaurant in town. She knows I'll make it up to her."
"Great, Ange is understanding," Booth said impatiently. "Can we focus on the case now?" A man dressed in a fashion far too young for his age was approaching and he stepped forward. "I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, this here is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian and that's our associate, Dr. Jack Hodgins."
"Hey," the hipster wannabe greeted them. "I'm Deuce Jackson."
Hodgins snorted and Booth glared at him. "What happened, Mr. Jackson?" he asked trying to stay professional.
"Hell if I know. I wouldn't even know it was there except my DJ freaked the hell out when he opened the door."
"Where?" Brennan demanded.
Jackson pointed upstairs and both Brennan and Hodgins hustled to the steps. Booth followed pulling what information he could from the club owner as they climbed. He was making notes as his questions were answered and Hodgins' excited shout made his head jerk up in surprise. "What!"
"Come here my beauties!" Hodgins cooed as he squatted next to the body.
Booth rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I didn't miss that," he said to himself dismissing the entomologists' idiosyncrasies. "What do you think, Bones?" he asked his partner.
"Definitely murder," Hodgins piped up before she could answer.
"Can we get this cleaned up," Jackson asked impatiently. "It's Friday night, I'm losing money here."
"You might as well bounce them all home," Booth scoffed waving his hand in the general direction of the line out front. "This is a murder investigation. It's gonna take a while."
"It might take longer than that," Hodgins assured him from his crouch over the body.
"Why?"
"I'm going to have to make sure we get all these lovelies. We can't leave even one behind."
"Big ants," Booth noted absently. "Why?"
"These are bullet ants," Hodgins answered as if that should mean something.
It obviously meant something to Brennan and she jumped away from Hodgins as if fleeing for her life. "Bones!" Booth objected as she crashed into him and pushed him back several feet. "What are you doing?"
"Bullet ants," she answered as she bent and examined first her legs and then his. "Are you injured?" she asked running her hands over his calves in search of ants.
Booth squirmed under her touch and prudently stepped away. "Why are you two so concerned about big ants?" he demanded.
"Because," Hodgins said as he rose to his feet and held up a one inch long black ant. "These are your murderers."
"I would never complain or offer criticism of what you ask of me, Dr. Brennan," Arastoo said politely, "But did I really have to give up my Friday night to watch Dr. Hodgins collect bugs?"
"It is imperative that you be present for as much of the case work as possible, Mr. Vaziri," Brennan lectured. "Every detail is a potential clue and you must learn to catalog everything." She glanced at him and to his surprise offered an encouraging smile. "I share your eagerness to assess the victim, but under no circumstances will we rush Hodgins."
"Well, collect faster, Hodgins," Cam ordered speaking through the hand she held over her mouth and nose.
"Are you not feeling well, Dr. Saroyan?" Arastoo asked with concern.
"Just having some issues with pregnancy enhanced olfactory sense and corpses," she explained delicately.
"Cam, I sympathize," Brennan said with what sounded like actual sincerity, "But, he must be certain he has collected every insect."
"You got that right," Hodgins agreed as he maneuvered the long tongs he held. The body lay encased in a sealed container and his arms stuck through two access points in tough protective gloves that reached to his elbows. The movements he used as he worked were slow and steady. "Paraponera clavata," Hodgins recited with enthusiasm. "These are the nastiest of nasties, the most wicked kind of killer ant."
"Killer ants?" Cam called from where she stood several feet away from the others.
"Oh yeah," Hodgins said with a nod. "I'm sure Dr. B will want to confirm for herself, but there's not much doubt these guys are the murder weapon."
"Ants?" Arastoo asked.
"Bullet ants," Hodgins repeated. "The name means something you know; their sting is as painful as a gunshot. They are also called 'twenty-four hour ants' because that's how long you feel the sting." He held up the specimen he had extracted from the victim. "They are one inch long bad-asses."
"Indigenous people in Central America use them for their initiation rights to manhood," Brennan lectured as Hodgins' attention returned to his task. "The ants are anesthetized and their bodies are sewn onto the inside of a leaf-glove. After the ants wake up the young men then put their hands in the gloves and attempt to leave them encased for a minimum of ten minutes."
"Don't they get stung?" Cam asked her voice rising in response to the imagined pain.
"Severely," Brennan answered. "And, they must repeat the ceremony twenty times."
"Twenty?" Arastoo gasped.
"I just tried to prove I was a man by buying a car and trying to get laid," Hodgins joked.
"Judging from my initial, and admittedly remote, examination I would say death is no more than forty-eight hours old," Cam pressed trying to keep them on topic. If they had to be here, they might as well discuss the case.
"I'll know more once I have time to take a look at these guys, but I'm thinking even less than that," Hodgins supplied. He had looked up as he spoke and he took pity on his boss who was beginning to look decidedly green as she struggled against her heightened ability to smell the decaying body. "You know, I'm going to be at this awhile. Why don't you two go home," he suggested looking at Cam and Brennan. He grinned at the younger man standing next to Brennan and finished his thought with a bit of taunt in his voice. "Arastoo can stay and assist. There's no sense in all of us losing sleep."
Brennan began to shake her head stubbornly but then looked suspiciously at Cam. "If I stay will you remain as well?"
"I can't very well abandon ship when all the crew is on board," Cam joked.
"In your condition you should rest," Brennan declared.
Cam lifted an eyebrow and shared a look with Hodgins as both noted the uncharacteristic concern. "I appreciate your concern, Dr. Brennan, but women have been having babies for a very long time and I'm sure I can take a long and smelly night."
"It is a basic biological process," Brennan agreed. "But, it is not one you have experience with. Logic dictates that you should not strain your body unnecessarily." She turned without waiting for a response. "I'll need you to provide me with a ride to the Hoover," she announced. "Booth is questioning the bar owner and since he insisted on driving me I have no way to get home."
"Ok," Cam agreed knowing when the anthropologist took that tone there was no need to waste time arguing.
When the pathologist moved to follow both Brennan and Hodgins reacted with a start. "No!" they both shouted trusting their arms out in identical indications for her to halt.
"Go the other way," Hodgins insisted waving her to a different route off the platform.
"That would be best," Brennan agreed. "While they are quite large it is possible one ant could escape and remain undetected long enough to cause harm. In your present condition that would be extremely unfortunate." She paused as she turned to leave and looked at her intern. "Mr. Vaziri, please assist Dr. Hodgins in whatever manner he may require. If the remains are made available to you follow all protocol including x-rays and notify me immediately."
"Yes, Dr. Brennan," he answered distractedly as he twisted slowly his eyes scanning the floor for that one possibly escaped ant.
B&B
Booth dropped into the chair across from Deuce Jackson and looked the hipster in the eye. The way he did it, letting his eyes bore into the other man as if he could see straight through him, was designed to elicit a response. It didn't work and Booth was slightly impressed. "Who was in the club today?" he asked.
"No one until a few hours ago," Deuce answered. "I stocked up yesterday so I wasn't even there to do much until late."
"And you didn't know anything until the DJ found the body?"
"Nah," Deuce said.
Booth frowned at the frustration. This guy was a dead end it; was clear he was telling the truth. "So the body wasn't there when you left Thursday and when you come in Friday it's there?"
"Maybe."
"What do you mean maybe?"
"I mean on Thursdays I feature DJ Spinz and the guy is a pain. Won't use the booth, says he wants to be near 'his people'. I have'ta set up a whole sound board up on the mezzanine. It's a hassle, but the guy is good and he draws in the ladies so it's worth it."
"And he does that every Thursday?" Booth asked.
"For a while now, yeah; it's starting to be my best night of the week."
"So it would be common knowledge that booth is empty?"
"Guess so. Why?" he asked leaning forward. "You think it was one of my regulars?"
"I'm going to need your security tapes," Booth said ignoring the question.
"Sure, sure, anything you need. I hope it was a regular. You let me know, ok?"
"Why?"
"Murder in my club from the regular crew?" he asked with a smile. "Man, that would take me to a whole new level. I'll have them lined up around the block."
"Just get me the tapes," Booth ordered in disgust as he left the room.
His scowl turned to a smile as he exited and found his partner approaching. "Hey, Bones!"
"I need you to take me home," she answered.
Booth knew what she meant but for just a moment a goofy kind of smile lit his face. "I'm ready if you are, Bones," he said knowing she would not catch the hidden meaning.
"Did you get anything from the owner?"
"Nah, the guy's a real creep, but he doesn't know anything about it. He did say the booth was unused on Thursday," Booth said falling in step as they walked down the hall.
"That would provide opportunity and fit the initial findings," Brennan said giving a quick nod. "Cam and Hodgins estimate time of death between eighteen and forty-eight hours."
"That's a larger window than you usually provide."
They had reached the elevator and she shrugged as she pressed the button. "We can't begin a true examination of the remains until Hodgins has removed all the insects. He won't give the all clear for hours."
"What's taking so long? They are bugs, Bones."
"Do you remember what it felt like when I shot you?"
"What? Yeah, that's kind of hard to forget."
"That's approximately what it would feel like if he misses one and it stings you. We can't risk that especially with Cam performing the autopsy."
The doors to the elevator parted and they stepped inside. Booth let her go first, his reaction to the door slowed slightly by the way her true concern for Cam came through in her words. "You are protecting Cam; that's good Bones," he said softly.
The doors closed and he held the look they shared for another moment. It was good to be back, but something had changed. The year apart had shifted something between them and he still wasn't sure what it was. It didn't feel bad, the connection was still there, but it was different and maybe he should explore that a little. "So, partner," he said finally breaking the silence. "How about a late night snack? I am still trying to make up for all that pie I missed in the desert."
Brennan smiled. She had missed that. She had missed the way it felt to have him so casually offer to spend time with her. She wanted to say yes, she wanted to explain how their time apart had affected her. There were so many things she had learned and maybe soon she would be ready to share them with him, but now didn't seem the right time. She was just beginning to trust this new voice within her, this new sense of surety she had found in the tropics, and she heeded the caution it advised. "I'm really very tired, Booth. I'm still trying to adjust to being home; my body is still on Maluku time. Would it be ok if we skipped it?"
"Sure, sure," he agreed as they stepped out onto the garage level. "Maluku time, huh? So what, you are missing nights spent sitting around the campfire discussing ancient civilizations and their social structures?"
"That's not all we did," she objected grinning back the same playful smile he was giving her.
"What did you do then?" he asked sincerely curious to learn more about their time apart.
Brennan's smile faltered. "Nothing much," she said looking away. She was going to tell him, eventually, but mid-case was not the time. "Entertainment was limited. Can we hurry, Booth? I find I'm more fatigued than I thought and I will need to return to the lab early tomorrow to begin."
Booth dropped the subject, concerned about why she clearly didn't want to discuss the islands further, but unwilling to push when things still felt so new between them. There was more here. She had avoided Angela's questions about the islands the other day and now she didn't want to discuss it with him. Something had happened on those islands. A tiny fear was building inside his heart and he steeled himself against it. If she had moved on then he would be happy for her.
B&B
The excuse of fatigue was at least a partial truth and Brennan found herself refreshed and eager to tackle the case when she arrived at the lab the next morning. That feeling lasted until she got her first complete look at the body and preliminary findings. The delay for Hodgins scrutiny meant Cam was just now conducting the autopsy and Brennan pursed her lips in frustration when she realized she still only had x-rays to work with. Scanning the films she found a surprising lack of visual clues on the bone that only encouraged her bad mood. There were no broken bones, few indicators of occupational or repetitive stress, this was a body that had few secrets to tell. How was she to find answers when there were no clues? It was like the death had been delivered without violence. There were slight indications of damage to the carpals and phalanges of one hand. Those injuries were easily explained by the pounding their victim had likely done when she discovered she was locked in the room.
"Dr. Brennan, Dr. Saroyan would like to see you," Arastoo announced as he entered the exam room.
"Is she finally done?" the anthropologist snapped in return. The shock on her intern's face made Brennan aware of her tone and she sighed. "Thank you for the information, Mr. Vaziri. It was not my intent to alleviate my frustration at your expense."
"Can't find much on the x-rays, huh?" Arastoo asked in sympathy. "You always see more than I do of course, but I came up completely dry."
"Yes," Brennan agreed. "What did Cam want?"
"I think she has cause of death."
"That's something," Brennan said hurrying toward the autopsy room hoping at least one of them could provide some concrete evidence. "What do you have, Cam?" she demanded as she entered.
"One sec!" Cam called from the back of the room where a large sink was located. There was the unmistakable sound of retching as her words halted. It was as delicate as such things could be and as quiet as possible, but what was happening was abundantly clear. "Sorry," Cam said wiping her mouth with a damp cloth as she returned. Her hand rested shakily atop her slightly rounded middle and she smiled sheepishly. "I can't seem to get past the smell," she admitted.
"Quite understandable," Brennan offered. "Did you find something?"
"Yes," Cam answered for a moment sounding her old self. She stepped to the body as if her problem didn't exist.
"Hey, what do we have?" Booth called in interruption as he entered with Hodgins trailing behind.
"Tox screens and tissue samples are back. I'm going to take a closer look, but so far it's pretty clear," Cam reported. "It was quick and it was painful. She suffered spasms and convulsions; judging from the bruising they were pretty severe. That was followed by systematic paralysis as the toxin took effect. Her lungs and diaphragm were as affected as the rest of her and she slowly suffocated."
"Damn," Booth muttered. "And we are sure that's a result of the bugs?"
"Ants," Hodgins corrected. "And I told you so, one-inch badasses. She died by ant sting."
"Don't look so happy about it," Booth scolded.
Hodgins glanced and the body and looked suitably contrite. "Yeah, sorry."
Booth shook his head and turned to his partner. "What do you have, Bones?"
"Nothing."
"What do you mean, nothing?"
"I can't find answers in x-rays alone, Booth. There are no occupational markers, no prior breaks, no trauma."
"So we've lost twelve hours waiting for the Squint Squad to do their thing. And now you tell me it's death by ant? I already had that, Bones. I've been waiting all this time to find what I already had?"
"Sometimes it is necessary," Brennan answered gently. "The wait is part of the process." She held his gaze for an extended moment and then pulled her eyes away. "How much more time do you require, Cam?" she asked.
"Not much longer," Cam answered as she bent over the body. "I'd be done already except I keep getting the willies thinking something is crawling on me."
"There is something crawling on you," Arastoo said, pointing to the hand Cam had braced against the table as she leaned down.
"Hodgins!" Cam screamed.
"Relax, relax," Hodgins said moving forward with his hands extended. He gently scooped the beetle from Cam's trembling arm. "It's harmless."
"What is it?" Arastoo asked, his caution relieved at the entomologist's assurance of safety.
"This is Chrysina aurigans, the golden beetle," he answered as he let the bug walk across his hand. He held it up for closer examination. "What are you doing here, my pretty?" he asked it.
"It crawled out of the victim's hair," Arastoo provided. "It happened fast," he said when Cam looked at him in horror.
"Why is it present?" Brennan asked clinically.
"Same habitat," Hodgins answered still giving the bug a look of adoration. "Maybe she hitched a ride with the bad boys."
"It's quite striking," Arastoo noted.
"It's twin, the silver beetle is even more so," Hodgins lectured. "It's believed that these little guys played some part in the Conquistador's tales of abundant gold and silver in the New World. From a distance they actually look like nuggets of precious metals."
"So it doesn't have anything to do with the murder?" Booth demanded.
Hodgins shrugged. "They aren't a danger to anyone."
"Do we have anything to go on?" Booth grumbled.
"If I give you something what do I get?" Angela called from the doorway.
"My undying gratitude," Booth said eagerly as he moved to her side.
Angela gave him a withering look. "Not exactly the best offer you could have made, Studly."
"Ange," Brennan scolded.
"I ran dentals," the artist said heeding Brennan's call for the information. "She might not have left many bone markers, but she went to see her dentist every six months." She dropped her playfulness and gave the body a look of regret. "Alice Fernley," she reported. "Thirty-three, worked as a bookkeeper for Windale Consultants. It's a firm specializing in event and conference planning, they do mostly government work. I put everything in the file," she finished handing the report to Brennan.
"Finally," Booth muttered. "Let's go, Bones."
"Cameron Liven?" Booth asked.
"Yeah," the man answered extending his hand in greeting. "You folks looking for a deal on a new sofa?"
Brennan looked around at the available options in the discount furniture warehouse and shook her head as her face revealed her opinion of its quality. "We are here to interrogate you."
"Ask some questions," Booth clarified when Cameron looked concerned. He introduced them both and then moved on immediately to the reason for their talk. "What is your relationship to Alice Fernley?"
Cameron snorted. "Whatever it was it's in the past," he stated firmly.
"So, you did have a relationship?" Brennan pressed.
"For a while," he admitted. "But, me and Alice, we just weren't going to work out. She's boring, you know? She's cute enough, but there's no life, no pizzazz. She'd rather sit at home on a Friday, you know? That's not my style."
"When was your last contact?" Booth asked.
"Maybe…three months ago?" Cameron answered with a shrug. "I don't know, why does it matter?"
"Alice is dead."
"Bones, are you ever going to learn to ease into that?" Booth complained in a whisper.
"What? He didn't even like her."
"I liked her," Cameron objected softly his voice revealing how stunned he was by the news. "Dead? She's dead?"
"She was killed late Thursday or early Friday," Brennan answered.
"Poor, Alice," he muttered.
"So you've had no contact and no reason to harbor any ill will?" Booth asked already knowing the answer.
"Me? No. I can't imagine anyone would. I mean, what would Alice do to make someone want to kill her? She didn't get out much, who would hurt her?"
"Can you give us any idea of her regular activity or social life?" Booth asked.
Cameron shook his head. "What social life? She was pretty vanilla, no spice. It was strictly work, home, sleep, back to work. That's why I left. It was go or die of boredom."
"Yeah, ok thanks," Booth said turning away.
"Hey, you might talk to her friends at work," Cameron called helpfully. "There's one gal…what's her name…Cynthia," he supplied. "I don't know her last name, but Alice talked about her a lot. They work together; worked," he corrected.
"Thanks," Booth said.
"It is unfortunate that she didn't have a better relationship with him," Brennan noted as they each closed their car doors.
"Really?" Booth scoffed. "He seemed like a tool to me."
"I don't know what that means," Brennan said, "But, I find it sad that Alice lived such a lonely existence."
"Maybe she liked it that way, Bones."
"Maybe," Brennan answered softly as she turned to watch the scenery roll by. "But, she made an effort," she said a moment later.
"Bones?" Booth asked caught slightly off guard by their return to the subject.
"With Cameron, she made an effort. He said she was boring, and plain, but she must have attempted to be more if they were in a relationship."
"Sometimes those things don't work out, Bones," Booth said his mind flashing to a smile he had left in the desert. "If it's not right, it's not right."
B&B
"Hey, Babe," Hodgins called as Angela passed his work station.
She responded to the anxiety in his voice despite her look that said she would rather not. She glanced at Arastoo who worked at the next station peering at something she would prefer not identify. "Hey, Arastoo." When he looked up long enough to give a nod of acknowledgement she turned impatiently to her husband. "What's up, Sweetie?"
"I just want to say again how much I regret our ruined evening," Jack said in a purr as he reached out and pulled her closer. She slipped between his knees and he ran his hands down her arms in a gentle caress. "I thought maybe tonight you'd like me to make it up to you. I can't get another reservation at the Blue Moon so quickly, but what about some fresh seafood at Dmitri's?"
Angela tried not to stiffen in his arms, but her reluctance came through anyway. "What?" Jack asked leaning back slightly to meet her eyes. "Angie, what's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong," she said giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "I just can't tonight. I have things I need to do."
"But I want to make up for last night," he pouted. "Our night got ruined."
"I don't mind, Jack. It's not a problem."
"But…"
"Sweetie, I'm really busy," she said giving him one more perfunctory kiss before stepping away. "Don't worry about it. I didn't miss you all that much, I promise."
Jack watched her walk away with worry in his eyes. "What do you think that meant?" he wondered aloud. Realizing he had spoken his thought he turned to Arastoo.
The intern looked up when he felt Hodgins' eyes on him but immediately returned to his work. "I really wouldn't know," he mumbled nervously.
The lack of sympathy only made his insecurity grow and Hodgins craned his neck trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening in Angela's office.
B&B
"Is there anything else you can think to tell us, Cynthia?" Booth asked of the sobbing woman seated across from them.
"No," she sniffed and shook her head as she spoke. "Alice was wonderful. Why would anyone hurt her?"
"Were there any workplace disagreements?"
"Alice and Sheila got into an argument once," she offered as she accessed a memory. "Alice thought Sheila should have let her assist with the decorations for our Halloween party. Sheila has fibro myalgia and Alice worried that she would overtax herself."
Booth had been momentarily elated to finally find some blemish in Alice but as he realized the 'argument' was only another sweet example of the victim's nature he sighed. "Ok, thanks."
"I'm very sorry for your loss," Brennan said sincerely. "Alice appears to have been a wonderful person."
"She was," Cynthia agreed with an emphatic nod.
"If you think of anything," Booth said gently as he handed her a card. "We're still hoping we might find a clue."
"Sure," the still weeping friend agreed. "There is something," she said hesitantly.
"Anything will help," Booth encouraged her. He wasn't going to admit they were stuck, but at this point he would take anything.
"It's nothing specific," she hedged, "It's just that she was happier lately. I don't know why exactly, she never would tell me, but I know it was because of something she was doing in the evenings."
"Ok, that might help," Booth said trying to give her some assurance.
Brennan held her question until they were back in the SUV. "How is an observation about her happiness a help?"
"It's the first blip in an otherwise flat line, Bones."
"An anomaly," Brennan said with understanding. "It is also nice to know that she was perhaps not as isolated as we first believed."
Booth's brow crinkled and he glanced away from the road to look at her. "Yeah, that's nice to know, Bones."
B&B
"Anything?" Cam called as she stepped into Angela's office.
"The woman was completely nondescript," Angela complained. "I've searched this footage three times and I can't find her anywhere." She looked away from the images streaming across the Angelatron's monitor. "If she was in the club you would think she danced, but I can't find her. She's not at the bar."
"How about the murder scene?" Cam asked hopefully.
Angela shook her head. "Nothing, apparently there's no security reason to have camera's pointed at the booth."
"Well, just keep at it," Cam said with a sigh.
"What's wrong?"
The pathologist waved a hand to dismiss her own state of mind. "I was just hoping you had something to go on. Now I have no choice but to get back to my tests and frankly the stench of the autopsy room is more than I can face."
"That will pass, right?"
"Eventually," Cam agreed. "But I gotta tell you, right now searching video footage is a lot more appealing than smelling rotting flesh." She gave a wide and exaggerated smile of enthusiasm. "It's all part of the wonder journey toward motherhood."
"More than you bargained for, huh?" Angela said sympathetically.
"It's a learning experience," Cam admitted.
"You are adjusting?" Angela asked. "I mean, it's a big change but you are dealing with it ok?"
"I'd like to think so. Why, does it look like I'm not?"
"No! I just…I was just wondering. I mean we go away for a year and when we come back life is nothing like it was. I just wondered if you were doing alright with that."
"I am, how about you?" Cam asked with the kind of intensity she had learned to wield as a cop.
"Me?" Angela asked. "I'm perfectly fine. How could I not be?" She held Cam's gaze for a fraction of a second and then turned to her monitor. "I'm going to try a secondary set of search parameters," she announced in a professional tone.
B&B
"Maybe we aren't back yet," Brennan said with dejection as Booth turned the key.
"What?" He stepped into the sparklingly clean apartment and turned to face her. "There's nothing wrong with us, Bones. This is just a hard case."
"It shouldn't be," Brennan objected. She wandered through the living room giving a professional eye to the room's appearance and finding only tidy order. "We knew the murder weapon at the crime scene. We have identification from dental records. We should be getting somewhere by now, but our investigation has turned up nothing more than what Hodgins and Angela already found."
"It's frustrating," he agreed. "But, we will find it, Bones. You and I are back; I can feel it." He waggled his finger between them. "Don't you feel it?"
"Feel what?" she asked hesitantly.
His smile was more enigmatic than any she had seen before and it seemed to tilt her world. "You and me, Bones; you and me."
"So if it's not us, then why don't we have a lead?" she asked feeling her frustration ease as he continued to shine his smile her way.
"If there's one thing I know, Scully, it's that the truth is out there. We'll find it."
Brennan's brow creased with a heavy line as she puzzled her way through his words. "The truth is always our objective," she agreed dismissing the terms she couldn't identify since the playful turn of his grin suggested he was joking.
"Sometimes those hidden truths take time to learn," he assured her. Booth turned his attention to their victim's home and began to wander looking for anything that might be a clue. "But I gotta believe the wait is worth it, Bones," he said as he opened a closet.
"So we should just keep trying?"
Booth closed the door and moved toward the bedroom. "Yeah; just keep trying."
The search of Alice's home had turned up nothing significant. What few facts they had learned about their victim were underway as the partners reentered the lab. "I don't remember when we've had so little to go on," Brennan complained. "What good does knowing her favorite television programs do for us, Booth?"
Her partner sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I don't know, Bones, but it might. Knowing that her DVR was full of every episode of Dancing with the Stars and Rachel Ray and that silly cop show with the sexy partners might mean something down the road."
"What?" Brennan scoffed. "That she, like most of America, lived vicariously through the television instead of enjoying those things herself?"
"Don't start knocking television," Booth objected. "I don't live vicariously."
"I didn't say you did," Brennan corrected. Her words were almost harsh and she clamped her lips closed. She wasn't trying to fight with him, it was just a convenient way to vent her frustration. "Mr. Vaziri should be ready for me," she said in a more gentle tone. "I'm going to get to work and find some answers."
"Ok, Bones," Booth agreed acknowledging her unspoken apology. "You go get your squint on." That brought a hint of a smile to her lips and he watched her walk away before he let out his own sigh of frustration. The only thing they had to go on was the murder weapon. If this were a shooting he'd know what to do. He could analyze the ballistics and find them some kind of lead. But this wasn't a weapon he could analyze. Turning on his heel he headed for the only person who could.
"Tell me you have something," he begged as he stepped into Hodgins' office.
"I have a splitting headache, does that count?" Jack asked without looking up from the test he was running.
"Not funny, Hodgins," Booth growled.
"Well, it wasn't supposed to be," the scientist shot back with uncharacteristic heat.
"They are bugs!" Booth snapped. "You are the bug guy! Give me something!"
"There's nothing to give," Hodgins said in frustration. He waved his arm over the encased ants as if he were accusing them. "There is no hint of where they come from; not in their digestive tracts, not in their exoskeleton, nothing. It's like their environment was controlled as to make them completely nondescript!"
"Nondescript is the word of the day," Booth growled, "The victim and now the murder weapon." His eyes narrowed and he took a step forward. "Well, that's not good enough. So, I'm going to get to work and you are going to find me something."
"I already looked!" Jack protested.
"We are not going to lose this guy just because he's a better bug guy than you," Booth shouted. "Find something!"
Hodgins watched the big Agent stomp from the room and head for the exit. The anger he was feeling was directed mostly at himself. Booth had every right to be upset. He called himself King of the Lab, loved to brag when he got it right, so it wasn't the g-man's fault that he expected results. Turning back to the ongoing test behind him he reclaimed his seat on his stool and got to work. There was no way he was going to let this one ruin his rep.
Booth returned to the Hoover and went through the motions of following procedure even though he knew it would reveal nothing. There was no suspicious activity in Alice's banking accounts. She appeared on no watch-lists or radical membership rolls. She didn't even have a parking ticket. Picking up his stress ball he gave it a couple of hard smashes and then hurled it against the wall. That bit of release made him feel better and he picked up his phone. The quick response to his text made him smile and he launched his computer's chat program.
"Hey, Bones, couldn't stand to be away from me, huh?" he joked lightly.
"What? No! I simply felt a face to face chat would be more conducive to communication."
"What, like you want to read my facial expressions? Bones, you don't do that."
"Maybe I'm working to improve that aspect of my interaction," she said defensively. This conversation was not going as she hoped and she certainly wasn't going to explain herself or her reasons. "Just never mind, Booth. Do you have something important? I was reviewing the remains."
"Aw, Bones, I was just teasing," he said hearing the hurt in her voice. "I think it's great you want to talk face to face."
"You do?"
She sounded so vulnerable with those two words that he had the irrational urge to touch his computer screen. "Yeah, I think it's good, Bones."
"I've been working on it since…well… it was something I decided to do while still in Maluku."
"What do you see on my face right now?" he prompted.
Brennan eyed him with suspicion and then with careful study her eyes narrowing slightly as she concentrated. "Amusement," she said. "You are laughing at me?"
"I would never do that and you know it," he objected. "I'm a little amused, but I think that what you see is mostly pride."
"You are proud of me?"
"Always."
"Thanks, Booth."
A knock at the door interrupted the smile they shared and Booth leaned back suddenly feeling as if all his frustration had vanished. "What is it, Sweets? We're kind of in the middle of something."
Sweets crossed to the desk and glanced at the computer. "Hi, Dr. Brennan," he greeted her. Brennan said hello as Sweets held out a file for Booth. "I did what I could, but there isn't much to go on."
"Yeah, we're all feeling that," Booth agreed as he opened the report. "Can you summarize it while Bones can hear?"
"Yeah, ok," Sweets agreed. "Our guy is intelligent, highly educated. Given the lack of evidence or environmental clues at the scene I'd say he's extremely clinical, and scientific; mucho careful and methodical. He would compare very closely to Dr. Brennan or Dr. Hodgins." He glanced guiltily at Brennan's face. "Except for, you know, he killed someone."
"His attention to detail is exemplary," Brennan agreed as if it were a compliment. "I find that despite my frustration with our inability to move forward that I appreciate his methods."
"What are you going to do, Bones, start a fan club?"
"I'm simply admiring the approach, Booth," she answered with a sniff. "I can distinguish my analysis of the method from my moral and ethical objections to the behavior."
"And I can't?" Booth demanded.
"Guys," Sweets called trying to head off an argument.
"Don't get offended, Booth," Brennan soothed. "I wasn't implying that you are incapable."
"Congratulations on reading my offended expression, Bones."
"Guys," Sweets called again but his voice was softer. He knew there was no stopping it and he turned away. "Let me know if you need anything else," he said over his shoulder knowing no one was listening.
"How am I not supposed to be offended at that, Bones?" Booth was demanding as Sweets pulled the door closed behind him.
B&B
Hodgins was been bent over his microscope for a very long time and when he straightened his back protested. Stretching in the opposite direction he tried to work the kinks out and a heavy yawn escaped. "You need some rest," Angela called from the doorway. "You were up all night and you haven't quit all day."
Jack lowered his arms and sat up straight. "I didn't see you there, Babe."
"Just got here," she admitted with a soft smile. Crossing the room she stood behind him and began to massage his shoulders. "Relax, you don't have to do this all on your own."
"Booth needs information," he said the tension in his voice a problem she couldn't caress away. "The ants are our only solid lead. I have to find something."
"You will, Jack," Angela said without a trace of doubt. "You always do."
The belief in her voice was like a balm to his aching psyche. The frustration he felt over the case and his growing fear that there was something wrong between them was a lethal combination that had him wound far too tight. Knowing that she had faith in him eased it tremendously. Feeling the loving touch she was applying to his aching muscles gave him hope. He leaned back and she ceased her massage so that she could wrap her arms around him. For one silent moment they stood sharing the warmth she had provided his heart.
"Ange," he said breaking the silence.
She heard his tone and knew he wasn't going to say anything related to bugs. "Just concentrate on the case, ok?" she said in a gentle refusal to discuss it. She kissed his temple and then stepped away moving toward the door before he could snag her. "My computer search should be finished. Maybe I found something with the new parameters. Good luck, Babe."
A large body filled the doorway as she neared and she smiled as she and Booth passed. "Hey, Booth."
"Hey, Ange," he answered. He turned his head to watch her leave. It was almost on the tip of his tongue to ask if everything was ok but when he saw Hodgins' face he let it go. "Anything?" he asked instead.
"Nothing more than the last time you asked," Hodgins admitted.
"Yeah, about last time," Booth said with a grimace. He hated apologizing, but he owed the bug man a big one. "I'm sorry I took out my frustration on you."
"Not your fault," Hodgins answered. "You are right, bugs are my specialty. I should be able to find something."
"It's never just on one of us," Booth objected. "If we can't find answers that's on all of us, Hodgins; we are a team."
"Yeah, ok," Hodgins agreed, but his tone suggested he didn't quite believe it. "Thanks, Man."
Booth nodded and the matter was closed. "So, Sweets thinks the guy is highly educated," he offered as a change in subject.
"Has to be," Hodgins agreed. "I can't believe an amateur entomologist would know enough to disguise them so well."
"Disguise them?"
"Yeah, they are completely average," Hodgins explained. "That means their total environment was rigidly controlled. The food, the water, the soil, even the nesting material, everything is controlled so that I have nothing to identify them with."
"He's smart," Booth admitted.
"Not smart enough," Hodgins vowed. "I'm going to find it, Booth."
"That's why they call you King of the Lab," Booth said playfully as he turned to go.
B&B
"Dr. Brennan, would you care for magnification?" Arastoo asked when she paused in her examination.
"No, thank you," Brennan said as she moved on. "It really is remarkable how little there is to indicate the life she lived," she said as she searched for a clue.
"Usually the bodies we examine contain a deeper history," the intern agreed.
Brennan nodded. "That is a good way to put it, Mr. Vaziri. Our history is deepest in our bones." She had moved to the end of the table as she circled the body and she paused. "Could I have that magnification?"
Arastoo moved quickly to comply with her request and then moved in hoping for his own look. He bent matching Brennan's position and tried to spot what she had seen. "Oh!" he gasped after a moment. "Is that what I think it is?"
"A very faint Jones fracture," Brennan stated assuming that was his answer.
"She had a dancer's fracture?"
"It isn't complete," Brennan explained. "It would have been mildly painful, but not enough to keep it from bearing her weight."
"So, she was a dancer?" Arastoo asked.
"Not according to the information we have learned from others," Brennan answered. "She…" her voice trailed off as inspiration struck.
Turning she headed for the door with haste and collided with her surprised partner. "Whoa! Bones! Slow down, the lab is a no speed zone."
"I think I found it," she said grabbing his hand and heading for the door.
The mood in the SUV was much improved the glimmer of progress giving them both a new attitude.. "What's it say, Bones?" Booth asked looking to his partner as he pulled to a stop.
Brennan was reviewing information he had ordered sent to his phone. "She began making weekly payments six weeks ago; twenty-five dollar installments to the 'Step By Step Ballroom'."
"Hm, what do you know," Booth murmured. "I guess that explains the DVR settings."
"Or maybe the DVR settings explain the payments," Brennan argued as she exited.
"Do you have to say the opposite every time, Bones?"
She narrowed her eyes and then smiled impishly. "Yes."
The studio was a simple storefront operation. The large open room was dominated by a polished dance floor and a line of chairs lined the edge of the wall for spectators. Stepping past the unoccupied counter at the door they moved purposefully toward a tall man wearing black gabardine pants and a tight fitting white shirt designed to hug and display his lean torso. "Can I help you?" he called in a thick accent.
Brennan's brow crinkled. "That accent is not authentic."
"No kidding," Booth agreed. "Knock it off, Twinkle Toes," he said as he produced his badge. "We have questions."
"Make it quick, huh? I've got a class in fifteen and the ladies prefer the charade of a sexy Latin instructor."
Brennan's face indicated she didn't think he qualified and Booth hid a smile. "You have a client named Alice Fernley?" he asked instead.
"Yeah," the dancer said after a moment's reflection. "She's in the Monday night Modern Dance but I'm trying to talk her into adding some Salsa sessions. Girl needs some sway in those hips."
"She won't be attending," Brennan assured him.
"Bones!" Booth tried to explain delicately. "We're investigating her murder."
"Who would murder Alice?"
"We haven't been able to ascertain that," Brennan admitted.
"She have any run-ins with anyone here?" Booth asked.
"Nah, of course not; the group loved her. She was sweet. We were all trying to encourage her in her effort."
"What effort?"
"The dancing, you know?" He looked up as two women entered and lowered his voice so they wouldn't hear. "She was trying to loosen up. That's why I was coaxing her into Salsa. She wanted to get out, meet people, do more. She even talked about hitting the clubs now that she could at least move to the beat."
The partners shared a look. Could it be that simple? Had poor sweet Alice simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time?
B&B
"I brought those tissue samples you wanted," Arastoo said setting the tray down in front of Hodgins. "Dr. Saroyan said she didn't need them back."
"Yeah, ok," Hodgins' answer was dejected.
Arastoo winced at the tone. "Is there anything I can do to assist?" he offered.
"Can you get my wife to stop avoiding me?" Jack grumbled. He looked up and sighed. "Sorry. I'm frustrated and I'm distracted by things with Angela and I just feel like I'm going over the same information and not learning a damn thing."
"She loves you very much," Arastoo said with conviction.
"Yeah, I know that," the entomologist said. He sat back taking a much needed break. He appreciated the unspoken offer the intern was making and maybe just having someone listen would help. "I just don't know what's wrong. She won't tell me. She pretends that everything is fine, but it's not. I can't fix it if I don't know what it is."
"Why do you have to fix it?"
"I'm the husband," Jack said as if Arastoo knew nothing. "That means it's automatically my fault. I just need to find a way to get her to tell me."
"A man who demands an emotional response rarely gets what he is looking for," the younger man lectured philosophically. "Angela is a wonderful woman, Dr. Hodgins."
"I know that!"
"She is very much in touch with her heart," he continued ignoring the interruption. "If she knows her own heart she doesn't need your assistance to understand it."
"Is that your way of telling me I'm being an ass?"
"I'm saying given what I know of you and Angela your relationship is more about symbiosis. She needs you to be supportive, not fix it."
"Symbiosis," Hodgins repeated. His eyes suddenly widened and he jumped from his stool.
"What?" Arastoo asked in alarm.
"Symbiosis!" Hodgins repeated with feeling. It took him only a few moments to find what he was looking for and then he moved quickly. Finally there was no doubt, no frustration, no distraction. There was only the clear and intense satisfaction of discovery. He barely waited to confirm his findings before he lifted his voice. "Ange!" he yelled. "Angie!"
His wife responded quickly. "Jack, why are you yelling all the way across the lab?"
"Here!" he said as he thrust a sheet of paper with a scribbled note into her hand. "I need you to track that. They had to come into the country in the last twenty-five days. Probably a licensed animal transport but check everything inbound from Guatemala to Columbia."
"Yeah, ok," Angela agreed when she realized his excitement was due to an actual lead.
"Oh!" Jack said with a chuckle as he placed his specimen under magnification and began the delicate work. "Come here my tiny friend."
Angela returned in a surprisingly short time. "I found it," she said her tone now matching his.
Jack took the information she had written below his note and placed a quick wet kiss on her lips. "Yeah, Baby!" he crowed. Grabbing his phone he hit speed dial.
"Brennan."
"Parasites!"
Brennan looked at Booth trying to determine if he understood the announcement better than she did. Her partner shook his head and she pressed for clarification. "On Alice's body?"
"No! On the ants!" Hodgins said in exasperation. "I was so focused on how he leveled out their environment that I didn't consider alternate indicators."
"And now you've discovered parasites," Brennan concluded.
"Right! Phorid flies lay their eggs on the ants. Given the development of these larvae they were laid no more than twenty-five days ago. Angie worked her magic and found a manifest on a shipment of animal products from Costa Rica that was delivered here in DC. The only product not delivered to the University of Virginia was a single package labeled 'harmful insect'. It contained bullet ants."
"Where, Hodgins!" Booth barked.
"Fifty-four, fifty-five Butler Road in Bethesda." The squall of tires and the start of a siren heard just before the call ended let Hodgins know they were on their way. He bent back over the tiny baby fly that had given him the breakthrough. A satisfied smile tugged at his lips as he examined it one more time. "You are good, Creeps McGee," he muttered aloud to the unknown criminal who had made his search miserable, "But I am King of the Lab."
His pride lasted until his phone rang again.
"Well?" he demanded when he saw it was Brennan calling.
"We need you."
"Another murder?"
"No, there is no body. Booth believes this is the correct location, but anyone who was living here is long gone. We were hoping you could find something. There is little evidence of the inhabitant or their activity, but if he was housing insects perhaps something of importance will catch your eye."
"Maybe it's not the right place," Hodgins argued hopefully. "I can recheck the manifest, maybe Ange can find a different shipment."
"Hodgins," Brennan interrupted her voice letting him know his theories were in vain. "We found Alice's personal belongings. He was here."
The bitter taste of defeat filled Hodgins mouth and his body sagged. "Yeah, ok; I'm on my way."
"Bring Mr. Vaziri as well," Brennan ordered. "Perhaps if he assists you will not need to spend another long night away from Angela."
"Yeah, I'll do that; thanks, Dr. B."
The moon cast a silver light that was far too weak to brighten their spirits as Booth and Brennan walked silently toward the Founding Fathers. This was more than a setback, this was defeat. There had been nothing at the apartment over the Exterminator shop. Every surface had been cleaned to clinical specifications. There was not a stray hair or fingerprint to be found. The FBI techs who worked the scene had grown just as frustrated as the Jeffersonian team when they failed to find a single clue. Hodgins had remained vowing to search until he found something declaring there was 'no way Creeps was winning this'.
"You ok, Bones?" Booth asked softly.
"I am not accustomed to our failure," she admitted.
"It happens once in a while," Booth said trying to remain philosophical. "But, I'm not giving up. Hodgins found something once. It will happen again."
"She only wanted to grow," Brennan lamented. "She had this secret she wanted to reveal and just when she began someone took it away."
Booth nodded solemnly. "Yeah, that's not fair, Bones. Those secrets we have, they weigh heavy if we wait too long to share them."
Brennan's head cocked to the side as she turned to look at him. The question she might have asked when she saw his dark eyes and read what she thought was apprehension was left unasked in favor of answering her phone. "Brennan."
"Sweetie, I need you."
"Ange, what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," Angela assured her. "I just…are you busy?"
"I'm about to have a drink with Booth, but it's not imperative." She gave her partner an apologetic look for the way that had come out but he shook his head to let her know he agreed. "Where are you, Angela?"
"I'm still at the lab."
"Still?" Brennan asked with surprise. Angela was almost never the last to go home. "Do you want to join us?" she offered.
"I was really hoping for some girl time, Sweetie."
"Oh."
Booth reached out and cupped his hand around her elbow. "Go, Bones. We don't really have anything to celebrate with this case and I think Angela could use that drink more than me." He didn't add that whatever was troubling the newlywed might be revealed in some girl talk, but he hoped it was true.
"You don't mind?"
Booth shook his head and gave the elbow he held a gentle squeeze. "We can do this later; when we have a successful arrest to celebrate." Brennan nodded her agreement and her thanks and turned. He stood watching her walk away and his disappointment reached a new level. When Brennan opened her car door and climbed inside he stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned toward his own vehicle.
B&B
Dr. Lauren Kellogg tripped lightly up her back steps with a smile on her face. Today had been a very successful day. Few things held the enjoyment of a productive experiment. She noted the impatiens were in need of water and she added that to her list of chores to be completed this evening. A nondescript brown paper package sat in her path and she scooped it up as she pulled the screen door open. "Sean!" she called as she stepped into the kitchen.
"In here, Mom!" a momentarily deep male voice answered from the living room.
Lauren turned the package over in her hands trying to determine where it came from. Her name and address were printed on the label but there was no return address or postmark. "Was the UPS man here?" she yelled to her son.
"No!"
"You sure? No one knocked?"
"No!"
"Sorry to interrupt the video game," she muttered to herself when she heard the irritation in the teen's voice. Setting the package down on the counter she retrieved her kitchen shears and slit the seal. The flap was held in place and she silently cursed the maker of tape that contained polypropylene ribbing. She slipped her fingers into the broken seal and tugged.
There was the sound of something breaking as she pulled and a black mass emerged from the box as if propelled. The bundle of tiny bodies slammed into her chest and she screamed in shock. Dancing in disgust she flailed about trying to rid herself of the revolting onslaught. The first sting elicited a different kind of scream but after several more were delivered almost simultaneously she was rendered mute. By the time she hit the floor it was too late.
When a disarticulated body washes up on the banks of the Potomac, the investigation leads Booth and Brennan into a world of unrequited love, sex and foodies. Join us next week for Episode 6.5x03: The Love on the Rocks, written by brainysmrfs.