Spoilers: Only if you have a very strange imagination.
Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, children, arguing, the year 1997, or nudity.
Author's Note: The plot thickens[Quote courtesy of my dear Narrating friend, Amelia. I wrote half of this in a maths lesson today when our teacher decided to give us free time, instead of actually teaching us, like a normal person...or a good teacher. Oh well. Some entertaining conversation came out of it. Have a look:
"The mother claims to know nothing more than she told the police in 1997," Booth stated as they got into the car. Brennan looked over at him cynically.
"Yes, Booth, memory doesn't tend to get much better over ten years, especially if it is something that you are trying not to remember," she stated flatly.
Booth looked over at her from the driver's seat. He was about to rant on about her cynicism, but decided against it. "Psychology, Bones. Psychology," he retorted, making her stop in her tracks. She opened her mouth, and then shut it almost as quickly. Booth grinned haughtily. Score- one Booth: Brennan zero, he thought proudly.
Booth started the car and pulled out off the curb. "You know, Booth, Sweets says that you shouldn't be so mean to me."
"He does not, Bones. He says that you should try to be more understanding towards, you know, normal people," he bit back. She was starting to irritate him. He could hardly believe that only this morning they had been lying on his couch…together.
She looked at him grumpily. "He does, too. You just aren't listening. You're too busy…fiddling with things. You can't sit still, you know. You're like a child!"
"Am not."
"Are, too."
"Am not."
"Are, too!"
"Oh, now who's being the child, huh?" Booth pointed at her, eyebrows raised.
"You started it," she sulked as she sunk back into her seat, slightly ashamed she'd let Booth make her act like a four-year-old.
A silence descended upon them and each was left to their own thoughts. Brennan was still trying to get the image of the little girl, Lili, out of her head. She looked so much like her late brother, Maxim. They were about the same age. It must have been hell for her parents to have another child that age. The memories that would bring..., thought Brennan sadly.
She pictured the little girl, with her bright brown eyes, and mouse-brown hair, bouncing on her toes with a happy face; so innocent, so trusting. Brennan wondered if that had been why Maxim went missing so many years ago. Had he been so trusting? So inquisitive?
Or was it just some freak event that the Tuckers just happened to be involved in? She pictured the reconstruction Angela had done of Maxim, and mentally compared it to Lili. So similar...
Booth thought about what the mother had said. She knew nothing. She had seen nothing, heard nothing, and done nothing out of the ordinary. It was just another day, December twelfth nineteen ninety-seven, until that very moment. Booth forced his thoughts almost subconsciously to stay professional.
Follow a line of inquiry. Call around. Find the bastard who had done this. Make him pay. He thought of Lili; how worried her parents must be for her. She was six. The same age as Maxim was. Max. Call him Max. God, they looked similar! He couldn't help but worry for her. He felt like he knew her fate, but her fate was impossible.
Her fate had already happened. Booth couldn't take this any longer.
"Hey, we need to bunk for the night. Any ideas, 'Pretty Lady'?" He gave her a Charm Smile.
"Stop calling me that. It was cute when Lili did it, it's just annoying when you do it," she retorted, smiling. "I prefer 'Bones' to that!"
"Aw, come one, you like it when I call you Bones." He playfully punched her arm. She remained silent, trying to preserve what little dignity Booth had left her with. She still couldn't help but smile.
Brennan thought for a minute. "Wait! Why do we have to stay? I have things to do tomorrow!"
"Because, Bones. I want to talk to the father. And the brother, for that matter." Booth looked perplexed for a minute. "Yes, the brother. You never found out where he is?"
"No, because you interrupted me." She pointed a finger at him accusingly. Booth held his hands up in surrender, and Brennan yelled at him to put his hands back on the wheel, half-laughing.
"You'll be the death of me..." she muttered just loud enough for Booth to hear, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back. Well, if I had to die..., she let the thought trail off on its own, trying not to enjoy it too much.
About fifteen minutes later, they found a hotel that looked reasonable. It was a nice place, with a pool, and large rooms. After all, the FBI would be paying for it. Not that the pool would be much use in December. But still, it was there, and that was the point.
Booth pulled up in the parking lot, and stopped the car. "Booth, I don't see the point in this. Can't you just come down tomorrow, or something? I don't have any clothes, or my toothbrush. Neither do you, for that matter." Now she was just plain annoyed. She really didn't see the point.
Booth sighed dramatically. "The point is: now we don't have to drive down tomorrow. And you can buy a toothbrush from the hotel." He turned to leave.
"What am I going to sleep in?" she challenged.
"Well, I suppose you'll have to sleep naked," he said, his face perfectly straight, as if it was a normal thing to suggest. He stood watching her just long enough to see her reaction, and walked away, his back to her, laughing.
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