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Brennan was anxious for any kind of news about her father. The only problem was she kept getting given the same answer: Wait. She didn't want to wait anymore. She wanted to know what was happening. Booth was doing his best to find out for her, but he was getting dead ends too. Turned out that Agent Williams didn't want to share his case with Booth even though Booth was the one who let him have it. It infuriated him.
"Can I at least see him?" Brennan asked the next night after spending a whole day getting no answers.
"You should be able to. I'm still waiting on an answer for that," Booth replied. He reached into his pant pocket and fiddled with his chip from Gambler's Anonymous. He wasn't sure why he was feeling nervous.
"I can't believe they arrested him for murder," Brennan said more to herself than to Booth. In her heart of hearts, though, she kind of believed it. Her father wasn't one for letting people threaten her family. Booth watched her carefully. Matthew's words were echoing in his head. Take care of her. Did he think Brennan was still in danger? Booth wished he knew.
"Where's Angela?" Booth asked suddenly, noticing she wasn't there.
"She went out," Brennan answered. "She's feeling really down since Gary left her."
"He did it for the right reasons," Booth pointed out.
"You and I know that, but Angela is taking it hard," Brennan said in return.
"How are you doing?" Booth asked after a moment of silence.
"Not great," Brennan admitted, looking at him. "I feel lost. Scared. Worried. I wonder if I'll ever see my father outside of bars ever again."
"He'll go to trial," Booth explained. "There the jury will decide his fate."
"And that scares me even more," Brennan said. "Twelve strangers who don't know my father at all get to decide if he lives in prison for the rest of his life."
"Sometimes not knowing the subject works in their favor," Booth pointed out. Brennan sighed.
"I just don't want any of this to be happening right now."
"How can I help?"
"You've done more than enough, Booth," Brennan said, giving a small laugh. "More than any other guy I've only gone out with twice, in fact."
"Well, I'm here for anything," he reassured her. She smiled and reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze.
"I appreciate that," she said quietly. Ripley came over and stuck his head on her lap then, giving her a mournful look.
"Walk time?" Booth asked, laughing.
"Yes," she agreed. She snapped on his leash and they went out the door together. The walk just wasn't the same since all Brennan could think about was her father sitting in a cold hard cell.
...
Matthew did his best not to be intimidated. He requested a lawyer like all the shows and books highly suggest you do. He knew he was innocent until proven guilty. The only thing driving him crazy was that he couldn't get an answer on whether or not he could see Temperance. His lawyer advised that he would be allowed visitation shortly. Matthew didn't like the term "shortly." It had a different meaning to different people who used it. Shortly could be a week, a day, an hour, or a few minutes. It could also mean never because the person didn't have the balls to just say "no." He rested back on his cot, head against the cold wall. So this was jail. He really couldn't see his father in law being in a place like this. Matthew closed his eyes. It seemed like yesterday when they arrived there tired and scared.
...
Flashback
"Where were you?" Temperance's voice asked, accusing. Matthew had pulled into the driveway he hadn't been on in a long time to see his daughter standing there with her arms crossed, angry. He sighed.
"I had to take a detour," he said simply, getting out of the car. It had been difficult shaking McVicar, but he managed. His answer didn't appease her at all.
"What does that mean?" she asked, following him as he walked up to the house.
"It means I had to take a detour," Matthew answered. He reached for the door. Temperance slammed her hand against it, stopping him from going inside.
"Mom is in there twisting her hair the way she does when she's scared or anxious, so answer me this," she started. "Are we in danger? Why did we have to pack light and leave everything behind? What's going on?"
"Is there any way I can answer these questions later?" Matthew tried.
"No."
"All right," he sighed again. He went over to the wooden porch swing and patted the seat beside him to get her to sit. She decided to stand, her arms still crossed.
"Look," he started. "Your mother and I were involved in things that we shouldn't have been. Now there's a man out there who's trying to hurt us because we left the group."
"What group? What were you doing that you shouldn't have been?" she demanded. Oh, the questions. Matthew loved and hated her for her quizzical mind right now.
"Tempe, I really don't want to answer those particular questions right now," he said.
"That's great," Temperance scoffed, throwing her hands up in the air. "My parents are liars. Fabulous."
"Just tell her, Matthew," Christine said, coming out the door. Russ was right behind her. "Tell them both. I'm not ashamed."
"Maybe you aren't," Matthew muttered. Christine glared at him. "All right, all right. Russ, Tempe, your mother and I were bank robbers." There was a stunned silence for a moment before Russ burst out laughing. He had to hold himself to keep from falling over. Temperance was staring at them both, speechless.
"Was that so hard?" Christine asked Matthew, who closed his eyes briefly from irritation.
"Russ, knock it off," Matthew said after a moment while Russ kept on laughing.
"Stop, Russ," Temperance ordered. Russ obeyed quickly. He wiped the tears from his eyes. "Are you serious?"
"Yes. We were a part of a gang who robbed banks," Christine answered for him. "It's not something we're proud of, and it's in our past, but there's a man who was sent after us by this group to kill us."
"Is that why we're here?" Temperance asked.
"Yes."
"So, do we like, never leave?" Russ asked. He had a girlfriend he didn't want to just abandon.
"For now, we are lying low," Matthew answered. "Your mother will home school you. I will try to keep an eye on the danger, and hopefully before too long, it will be taken care of."
"What does that mean?" Temperance asked sharply.
"Nothing," Matthew replied. "Can we end this interrogation now? I'm thirsty and tired."
"Come on," Christine said, gently pulling at Temperance's arm to steer her inside.
"I don't like this," she said.
"I know," Christine responded. Russ followed silently. Their grandfather, Charlie Whitman, was sitting in the living room with a card game spread on the table in front of him. He looked up as they trucked in.
"Matthew," he said, nodding briefly. Matthew just bowed his head in response. Christine gave them both a look. She knew they butted heads sometimes, but she wanted them to get along while they were living here.
"Saw on the news about some poor woman getting mugged the other day," Charlie went on, going back to his game.
"It wasn't me," Matthew said irritably.
"Didn't say it was," Charlie responded. His voice was a bit of a drawl.
"That's enough already," Christine snapped. "Dad, where can I get the kids set up?"
"Your old room and your sisters' rooms are available," Charlie answered. "Pick one."
"Thank you," she said. "Come on, Temperance." They went up the stairs together.
"You really robbed banks?" Temperance asked as Christine picked a room for her and starting making the bed.
"I know. It's bad. I wish I could say the thrill wasn't pleasant," Christine answered, wincing. "I'm sorry."
"You promise that it's behind you?"
"Yes. A hundred percent. We haven't done anything like that in years."
"Okay."
"Temperance?"
"Yea?"
"Thanks for not freaking out."
"I have nowhere to live, Mom. I kind of have no choice."
"That's my girl," Christine smiled, pulling her into a sideways hug. She was very glad that they made the decision to bring the kids with them. She couldn't imagine it any other way.
...
Present
"Ange?" Brennan asked, poking her head out of her bedroom door. Booth had gone home hours ago. It was roughly three a.m. at this present moment. A clattering in the kitchen had woken Brennan from her sleep. Ripley had made a few gruff sounds in his throat to alert her as well. Brennan clutched her umbrella in her hands, hoping that it was Angela.
"Hi, sweetie," Angela slurred. "Oop!" She tripped and caught herself on the kitchen counter.
"What are you doing?" Brennan asked, lowering her weapon and feeling hugely relieved.
"Making cookies," Angela answered with a giggle.
"You're drunk," Brennan said bluntly.
"Nooooo," Angela denied, shaking her head, still giggling.
"Ange, come to bed," Brennan said, holding out her hand.
"Nuh uh," Angela replied. "I need cookies."
"You need sleep," Brennan corrected.
"Why does everyone tell me what I need when I know what I need?" Angela rambled.
"Because cookies at three a.m. is not a good choice," Brennan laughed.
"Says who?"
"No time for arguing," Brennan cut her off. "Come on." She took Angela's hand and led her to her bedroom.
"I miss him," Angela sniffed loudly.
"I know."
"I hate him for leaving."
"He had to for the right reasons."
"Well, they're stupid," Angela said nonsensically.
"Ange, going to the hospital for his suicidal ideation is not stupid," Brennan pointed out.
"Whatever," Angela grumbled. She fell face first onto her bed. Brennan knew she wasn't fully in her right mind to understand what she was saying, so she let it go.
"I'm going to call in sick for both of us tomorrow," Brennan said.
"Fine," Angela said back, muffled. Brennan closed her door and went back to her room. Ripley looked up at her from the end of the bed.
"We're in a fine mess, aren't we?" she asked him. He thumped his tail in response.
...
When Brennan was finally able to see her father, she felt a great sense of fear. Matthew looked so vulnerable on the other end of the phone.
"Don't worry about me," he urged.
"How can I not?"
"Just try not to. I'm all right here. I'm keeping my nose clean. I have court in a few days to decide on charges and a trial date."
"I'm scared for you."
"Don't be. It is what it is. Think of what your grandfather would say."
"He didn't go to prison for murder," Brennan objected.
"Maybe not, but he still did 15 years of time."
"Dad, you'll be in here for life."
"I know, I know. Hey, keep your chin up, huh? Seeing you down isn't helping me," Matthew tried to joke. She gave him a stern glance in response.
"Russ is coming this weekend. He'll want to see you. He was shocked to hear the news."
"Don't let him bring the girls here. I don't want them seeing me like this," Matthew warned.
"I'll tell him."
"I love you."
"I love you too, Dad."
...
Booth picked up Parker from school, knowing that Brennan wasn't there that day. She had left him a voicemail stating so. Parker was displeased about his substitute teacher, and he let Booth know all about it.
"I'm sorry, bud," Booth said once Parker was finished ranting.
"It's just not fair," Parker muttered. "Where's Miss Brennan?"
"She had some things to do today," Booth answered.
"Like what?"
"Like none of our business," Booth laughed.
"Oh," Parker said, disappointed.
"She'll be back soon, don't worry." Booth looked at his son in the rearview mirror. He hated seeing him upset like this. "Tell you what, how about you and I go get some ice cream?"
"Yea!"
"That's what I'm talking about," Booth bobbed his head. Parker laughed. He heard his phone vibrate and saw Brennan's name flash across the screen. It was a text, and he wondered how her visit with her father went. When they parked at the ice cream parlor, Booth checked it.
Dad is fine. I'm worried. Come over tonight?
I'll be there, he typed back. He shut his phone and got back to helping Parker decide what flavor he wanted. Despite the circumstances, he couldn't wait to see Brennan again.
...
"Thanks for coming," Brennan said. "My apartment should be ready in a day or two they said."
"That's good," Booth nodded. They went into the kitchen where Brennan was finishing off baking some cookies for Angela.
"I didn't interrupt father and son night did I?" she asked, sliding them off the pan and onto the counter to cool.
"We had our time together after school before I dropped him off at home," Booth answered. He reached for one, but she smacked his hand away.
"Just one?" he pleaded.
"No," she responded. "These are for Angela."
"All right."
"Did he miss me?" Brennan asked, changing the subject.
"Oh, God, yes. He was saying something about an assignment that they have to do."
"What?! Trust my substitute to create an assignment I know nothing about," Brennan growled.
"Will he have to do it?"
"No. I'll talk to them tomorrow."
"That'll make him happy," Booth laughed. Brennan finally smiled. He went closer to her and pulled her into a hug. "Are you all right?"
"I'm tired and in disbelief, but otherwise I'm fine," she answered, squeezing him tightly. She felt so safe in his arms. Before she knew it, he had scored a cookie and had popped it into his mouth.
"Booth!"
"Ahh, hot, hot!" he said, gasping.
"I can't believe you used affection to get a cookie," she scolded.
"Still hot," he said, pointing at his mouth. Brennan sighed and poured him a glass of milk, which he downed in seconds.
"If it makes you feel any better, they're amazing. The best I've ever eaten," he said.
"Nice try," she said, giving him a look.
"Seriously, though," he said. "You're doing okay? You saw your dad today?"
"Yes. He looks very small in there. Should I be worried that someone will shank him?"
"I don't think so," Booth shook his head. "Besides, I think he can handle himself."
"That's not something I want to know," Brennan said. She fiddled with her fingers absently.
"Have you had dinner yet?" Booth asked.
"Not yet."
"Wanna go?"
"Are you sure? The last two times haven't ended well if you recall," Brennan chuckled. Then she felt bad. Her father was in jail. How could she be laughing?
"I'm willing to take the risk," Booth winked. "Don't feel bad. You're allowed to carry on with life even though your father is in prison."
"Did you just read my mind or something?" she asked.
"No. I can tell that's what you're thinking because it's a natural response," he answered. "Come on. Let me try to take your mind off of it for now. You can't change anything at this moment in time."
"All right," she agreed. She grabbed her coat, and he helped her slip it on. She felt his breath on her neck as he stood behind her, and she shivered. She most definitely liked Booth and was very attracted to him. Perhaps sometime soon they could get a little more physical.
"Be a good watch dog," Booth said to Ripley as they passed him on the mat by the door. Ripley woofed once in response. Booth opened the car door for her before getting into his side. Then they were off.
...
Angela downed her third shot of the evening. She felt miserable. She missed Gary. She missed when things were simple. She missed living alone. No offense to Brennan, of course. It wasn't her fault that someone tried to murder her and left her homeless until the police were finished investigating. She would soon be alone again. She raised her hand to the bartender to get his attention. She didn't see the guy hop onto the stool beside her until he spoke.
"Drowning your sorrows?" he asked. She turned her head briefly.
"What's it to you?"
"Nothing. Just seemed like you could use some company."
"Because I'm drinking alone?" she challenged. The guy sighed heavily. He was very familiar. Where had she seen him before?
"No, because your posture suggests you're sad, and I know that sometimes when I'm sad, I enjoy a stranger to keep me company and keep my mind off my troubles," he shrugged.
"Oh really?"
"I can leave..."
"No, stay," Angela said, putting her hand on his wrist. "But no names. We stay strangers. That way I won't miss you in the morning."
"Deal," he smiled. He gestured for a shot glass of his own. He said he wanted to catch up, so she watched impressed as he downed three shots in a row. They did the fourth together. Angela enjoyed his company. She laughed. She felt happy. She knew it would all end before too long, but she decided to seize the moment. What could it hurt?
I'm trying to create the perfect moment for B&B, so stay tuned for that in the next chapter!
