A/N: Third chapter's up. Thanks for reviewing, tiny little chocolate Jaspers to all of you! I'm keeping the chocolate Booths to myself, muahahahahaa.
Disclaimer: Nah, don't own Bones. Not now, not ever.
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"You have the sketch yet?" Booth inquired Angela at the door of her office.
"In a half an hour or so," Angela responded from her desk where she was drawing.
"Excellent." Booth still lingered at the door, trying to make what he was about to ask sound casual. "Listen, I've heard a rumour that you have some friends..."
"Uh, yes, I do have friends."
"Well, I meant.. Uh... Anyone who'd be interested in attending a party with me?"
"What party?"
"Well it's not exactly a party, more like a gala... It's this annual FBI thing where everyone gets wasted and do their best trying to ignore the lousy comedian who's been hired there."
"So you're asking me if I have any hot friends that you could show off at this gala," Angela simplified.
Booth pondered for a while. "Basically, yeah."
"You're not taking Brennan?"
"What? No... I don't think she'd be interested."
"And asking is out of the question?"
Booth started to get uncomfortable with this conversation. "You know what, forget the whole thing. I was never here. Go back to sketching the victim, hmm?"
"Hit the sore spot, didn't I?" Angela had a soft grin on her face. Booth shrugged her question off and headed toward the platform. There he spotted Hodgins.
"You got anything for me?" Booth inquired.
"Plenty. I found traces of Thelypteris palustris."
"And this is some plant that can be found at only one spot in the world and therefore tells us exactly where the body has been rotting all these months?" Booth blurted out, irritated by the fact that Hodgins was again using incomprehensible words.
"Uh, no... But this plant grows only near swamps."
"Well, that's a start."
"I also found traces of plenty of other, more common plants that can be found almost anywhere."
"Great, thanks Hodgins." The entomologist responded with a simple nod. "Hey, is Bones here?"
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Brennan was sitting at her desk, thinking. She had been thinking a long time and was finally coming to a conclusion. She wasn't even paying attention at her partner who had appeared at the doorway. She sat there, staring straight ahead, playing with her pen.
"Hey Bones."
Silence.
"Bones?"
"He had a shoulder injury," she said without looking away from the spot she had been staring.
"Who?"
"The killer."
"How do you know?"
"Well we went over the scenario with the Angelator last night, but something bothered me with it." She had now turned toward Booth in her chair and had an enthusiastic glint in her eyes. "I couldn't figure it out until I woke up on that couch. The way the blows were centred on the victim's left side and the shoulder of the right side indicates that the killer had a shoulder injury that prevented his arm's movement sideways."
"Maybe the injury was caused by the victim?"
"No, there's no way she could've caused that big an injury considering the condition she was in."
Angela now strolled in to the office. "What are we talking about?"
"The killer and his injured shoulder," Brennan answered, her cheeks still slightly pink from the satisfaction her realization had brought.
"So now we have to find an FBI employee who has a shoulder injury. Great. No big deal," Booth pointed out sarcastically.
Angela saw her opportunity. "Well, what about the gala?"
Brennan furrowed her brow. "What gala?"
"Angela..." Booth tried to have a warning tone. But Angela ignored it.
"Everyone from the FBI building is invited, right? So if you take Brennan, she can probably spot if someone has a shoulder injury."
"Take me where?" Brennan tried to intervene.
"Angela, that makes no sense. There's no way that everyone from the Hoover building is going to show up. And there's probably a number of people with a sore shoulder there, agents tend to get hurt out in the field."
"Or, just maybe the killer will show up and you'll have caught him in record time." Angela stared at Booth with a challenging look, Booth completely aware of what she was trying to do. He didn't come up with anything to say and just gave up.
"Fine, I guess it's worth a shot."
"Excuse me, what are you two talking about?"
Booth and Angela now noticed the confused Brennan and Booth realized he still had to talk her into going. But luckily Angela beat him to it.
"There's an FBI gala tomorrow and you two are going because the killer might be there."
"But the odds of him being there-"
"Yeah yeah yeah, we've already gone through that. You're going."
"I don't exactly like being told what to do, Angela."
Booth snorted. "There's a shocker..." Brennan looked over at Booth with piercing eyes and he quickly looked away. Looking back at Angela, she added: "But I guess this is relevant for the case and therefore I will agree. So, what does one wear to this gala?"
"Evening wear."
"So now I have to get something to wear? I don't have time for that, I'm swamped with this case and-"
Angela interrupted. "Speaking of which, I have the sketch for you now. You know, if you two aren't too busy with your party."
Booth couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Why didn't you tell us right away?"
"Well, I though it might be more fun this way. And I was right!" Angela turned around, laughing, and headed toward her office. Booth and Brennan followed. Angela got her sketch pad from her desk and handed it to Booth. Both him and Brennan stared at the sketch for a long time without saying anything.
"Wow," Booth broke the silence. "She's beautiful." Angela nodded knowingly. "Well, let's run this through the database." Angela went to the computer and did her thing.
"There's a match: Dana Ward, 18. Went missing eight months ago without a trace."
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Booth and Brennan stood at the door, waiting for someone to answer it. Finally, a man opened the door. He was forty-something and very kind-looking.
"Mr. Ward?"
"Yes?"
"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth from the FBI and this is Dr. Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian Institute."
The man's face lit up, showing hope and fear at the same time. "Is this about Dana?"
"Yes, it is. Could we come inside?"
"Please do." The man gestured them in and called his wife to come downstairs. Once everyone was introduced, Booth prepared himself for what he was about to tell them. He started with a line he hated, but was obliged, to say. It was a line that practically told everything.
"You should really sit for this."
And from that point on it was not in any way unclear to the couple in front of them what he was going to tell them. Like Booth had expected, they had their breakdown as he explained further details of their daughter's death. He knew there was nothing he could do to console them and decided it was time to leave. He left his card on the table and the father nodded as a sign of acknowledgement of the gesture as he was holding his wife. Booth led Brennan out of the house and they got into the SUV.
"So, what do we do now?" Brennan inquired as they pulled out of the driveway.
"Now we have some interviewing to do," Booth replied determinedly. Trying to lighten up the mood, he added: "And remember, you have some shopping to do before tomorrow."
She smiled and looked out of the window. "I guess I do."
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A/N again: So not much happened in this chapter but the next one should include going to the gala. First review this one so that I can continue writing the next one:)