Chapter 3
"A serial killer," Booth remarked as they drove to the crime scene. "My day just keeps getting better and better."
"It's not necessarily a serial killer. Perhaps the locket was simply dropped there or-"
"A missing woman's locket is found on a dead body in the woods? Trust me, Bones, it's a serial killer." Booth turned the car, bringing it to a stop beside a number of other police vehicles parked just outside the trees. Booth and Brennan both stepped out of the car, joining the police officers who were moving toward the woods, two of them being led by two large German shepherds. Booth rubbed his hands together and blew warm air on his fingers. He knew he had been forgetting something that morning, and now he would be forced to traipse through the woods with no gloves to warm his already freezing hands.
"Stick them in your pockets, Booth," Brennan commanded. He stopped moving his hands and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye before following her instructions with a sigh. She started off into the woods, carrying her field kit in her right hand—which sported a comfortable-looking black glove.
"Hey, Bones, do you want me to get the kit for you?" he questioned.
"It's fine, Booth."
"But should you really be lifting it-"
"It doesn't weigh that much," she told him in a tone that invited no further debate. Defeated, Booth followed her into the woods, thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets.
Just before they reached the crime scene, one of the dogs started to go crazy, veering off to the right through a particularly dense patch of foliage. His handler followed without hesitation, and Brennan did the same, ducking under the thick branches. With no other choice, Booth trailed after them, wincing slightly when an overlooked branch caught him just above the eye. It was not long before the dog sat down, barking loudly. Brennan approached, crouching down in front of the dog. Her fingers swept away the leaves and detritus from the forest floor. After a few seconds, a dirty off-white object could be seen. Even Booth's untrained eye could tell it was a bone. As Brennan started to uncover the rest of the skeleton, another bark could be heard, perhaps fifty yards away. Booth's and Brennan's eyes met as they realized the implications of the second bark.
That afternoon, Brennan stood on the platform, her eyes scanning the skeletons spread out before her. "Seven victims including Emma Kelly," Mr. Nigel-Murray announced. "Did you know seven, aside from the alleged luck associated with it, is also an important number in many religions? I mean, in Christianity alone, you have the seven days of creation, the seven years of plenty and seven years of famine in Pharaoh's dream, the seven loaves of bread that Jesus uses to feed the masses-"
"Okay, Mr. Nigel-Murray, why don't we just focus on these seven victims here?" Cam asked. He nodded, turning back to the bodies.
"They were all women," he announced. "Their ages ranged from late twenties to early forties. Different races."
"This appears to be the earliest victim," Brennan remarked, pointing to the second body from the right. "From the condition of the bones, I would place time of death as five to seven years ago."
"There is a minor depression in the skull here," Mr. Nigel-Murray pointed out. "It's not deep enough to kill but certainly deep enough that it would have rendered her unconscious. There also appears to be a stain in the skull, likely from the pooling of blood outside the brain due to the injury."
"Her bones also show the same signs of torture as the previous victim's. Multiple fractures of the ribs, tibia, phalanges, and metacarpals along with the shallow cuts on the bones of the arms and legs."
"She appears to have an abnormal lateral curvature to the spine," Mr. Nigel-Murray declared. "Thoracolumbar dextroscoliosis."
"Well, that should make her easier to ID," Brennan pointed out. Suddenly, she frowned. "That's odd," she remarked, leaning closer to the skeleton.
"What's odd?" Cam inquired.
"The hyoid bone is still intact. She wasn't strangled."
"Then what was the cause of death?"
"Since the bones show no signs of other fatal wounds, I would say that the most likely cause is the subdural hematoma."
Cam nodded. "Do any of the other victims show evidence of a head injury?"
Brennan checked the other six victims carefully before answering. "No visible one, no. There could be something smaller which a closer examination will reveal, but I see no depressions in the bone during a cursory examination nor any staining which indicates the presence of pooled blood."
"It makes some sense if you think about it," Cam told her. "This was the killer's first victim, so he was still learning, and he knocks her on the head to render her unconscious. Unfortunately, he also causes the bleeding on her brain, but he doesn't realize that until a few days later when she slips into a coma and dies. After that, he doesn't knock his victims out by a blow to the head any more; he drugs them."
"I've got dental records from Kaitlin Yeats," Booth announced as he entered the lab, one hand holding a file folder and the other hand holding Noah's carrier. "And Parker and Kristen are both at soccer practice, and I'm beginning to feel like a damn chauffer." Brennan met him halfway to the platform, and he passed the folder to her. "I figured that if you could match one of those skeletons with her, it would at least give you one less ID to worry about."
"Thanks. I'm already fairly confident of which skeleton it is based on age, race, and time of death." Booth nodded.
"Any progress so far?"
"Some, but it's going to take a lot of time to finish."
"Uh-uh, don't even think about it, Bones. Indoor soccer practice ends at 5:30, and then I'm going to pick the kids up, and I'm going to swing back by here and pick you up, too, so we can go home and have a nice family dinner. Got that?"
"But what about the families of those victims, Booth? They deserve answers."
"And you will give them those answers. But I'm sure they wouldn't begrudge you taking a little time to spend with your own family. Besides, you need to take care of yourself. You can't work yourself into the ground anymore." His hand moved to rest on her abdomen, his thumb lightly caressing her stomach which he continued to insist was slightly swollen. Brennan thought he was trying too hard; she did not see any evidence of a bump which made sense considering she was less than three months pregnant. She still had some time before she began showing.
"Booth-"
"Bones, your work is important, I get that. Believe me, I do. But you have to realize that your family is important, too."
She closed her eyes for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay. I'll go finish up what I can. Come find me when you're ready to leave."
Brennan had finished the preliminary examination of all the victims by the time Booth returned with the kids, and Mr. Nigel-Murray had placed tissue markers on the first victim. Brennan was checking these tissue markers when Booth made his way to the platform after sending the kids into Brennan's office. "I will be finished in just a moment, Booth. I want to check these tissue markers before I go," Brennan announced, turning the skull over carefully. Booth waited impatiently, tapping his foot, until she finally announced, "These look good, Mr. Nigel-Murray. Why don't you take this skull to Angela?"
"Angela's already left for the day."
"Right. Well, I suppose you can leave the skull here then so that Angela can work on it tomorrow. And I guess you are free to go then, too."
On the way home, Booth asked, "So how was school today, you two?"
"Kristen had to sit out at recess," Parker announced.
"Way to tattle, butthead," Kristen replied.
"Don't call me butthead!"
"I'll call you whatever I want, butthead."
"Dad, did you hear her call me butthead?"
"See, there you go tattling again, whining like a baby."
"I'm not a baby!"
"Are too!"
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Am not!" Turning, Parker shoved her as hard as the limited space in the car would allow, and she hit Noah's carseat. The baby began to wail as she straightened and gave Parker a hard shove. They grappled for a few seconds, still shouting insults at each other until Booth's voice cut through the cacophony of noise.
"Hey, do I need to stop this car?" he questioned sternly.
Immediately, the fighting stopped, for both kids knew what would happen if Booth stopped the car. "No, Dad," they chorused, turning to face forward again.
"Good. Now, Kristen, don't insult your brother and Parker, don't tell on your sister. And both of you need to keep your hands to yourself; I don't want to see anymore fighting. Is that clear?" Booth was not sure when he began considering Parker and Kristen brother and sister, but in the past month, he realized that that was exactly what they were. They certainly fought like brother and sister.
"Yes, Dad," came the second chorus. Brennan turned to retrieve Noah in enough time to see Kristen turn and stick her tongue out at Parker.
"I saw that Kristen," Brennan told her.
"Sorry, Mom," Kristen apologized.
"So, Kristen, care to tell us why you had to sit out at recess?" Brennan questioned.
"Do I have to?" Kristen responded.
"Kristen." Booth's voice held a warning tone.
"Fine. Robbie called me stupid, so I told him he was ugly. Mrs. Gregory said we shouldn't call anyone names and made us both apologize and sit out for recess."
"You know, we really need to work on this name-calling thing," Booth remarked. "Mrs. Gregory is right, you shouldn't call other people names. Even if they started it," Booth added, anticipating her next objection. Kristen's mouth clamped shut, and she glared at him mutinously. They spent the rest of the ride in a tense silence broken only by Noah's sobs as Brennan tried to calm him again. Booth led the way into the building, Brennan close behind him and Parker and Kristen bringing up the rear of the group. As they walked up the stairs to Brennan's apartment, Booth heard muttering behind him and turned around in enough time to see Kristen shove Parker against the wall. The boy recovered quickly, flying at Kristen, and both of them landed hard on the steps which were fortunately carpeted. "Kristen! Parker!" Booth shouted, but they continued to tussle, and he stepped over to grab them before they could seriously injure themselves. With some difficulty, he managed to pull them apart, and he stepped down between them to prevent another outbreak of fighting. "I want you two to go silently up to the apartment now; I don't want to hear another word out of either of you. Parker, you go to your room, and Kristen, you go to the living room. You both are to start on homework. No television, no video games, no toys, nothing. Got it?" His voice was dangerously low and calm, and both kids knew immediately that they had pushed him as far as he could go. They nodded solemnly before trudging up the steps. Booth sighed and turned to Brennan. "This day is never going to end," he muttered.
"If you want to go out for a little while after dinner, I can take the kids," she offered.
"Nah, I'm not going to leave you with all of them. That's not fair to you."
"I'll be fine, Booth. I've dealt with all of them by myself before and besides, you did the same thing for me a couple times last week."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure. Go and relax."
Booth grinned and leaned forward to kiss her quickly. "Thanks, Bones."
A small shoving match was going on outside the apartment door when Booth and Brennan reached it, and Booth quickly broke it up, sending the kids to their separate parts of the apartment to work. Booth started dinner while Brennan worked on her next novel and helped the kids with their homework. Parker and Kristen were sulking all through dinner which made the meal a quiet affair, a situation which neither Booth nor Brennan particularly minded after the verbal sparring earlier that evening. The kids disappeared again after dinner, still not speaking, and Booth helped Brennan clean up before heading out for a run with Chance. Once the door shut behind the two, Brennan returned to her computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she worked.
Booth returned from his run forty minutes later, but Brennan shooed him out of the house again, telling him to take some more time for himself. With both kids sulking, it was fairly quiet in the house, and she had managed to write a great deal in the time he was gone, but she knew his presence would only distract her. With a grin and a joking comment about how she must not love him any more, he left, telling her that he was going to do some more work on the house. Brennan immersed herself in her writing once more, but she was interrupted fifteen minutes later by an insistent knocking on the door. Groaning in frustration, she saved the document and closed the window before going to answer the door. Parker came skidding into the room in front of her, but she reminded him of his father's instructions to stay in his room, and he reluctantly returned to it. As he trudged back to the room, Brennan opened the door to find Sully standing on the other side, a smile on his face.
"Sully?" she questioned, opening the door wider.
"What's he doing here again?" Kristen inquired from behind her.
"Kristen, homework," Brennan reminded her.
"Finished," Kristen announced proudly.
"Then go work on some reading or math exercises."
"But those are boring."
"Fine. Then you can go take your bath and go to bed."
"I don't want to go to bed until Dad gets home. He's right in the middle of his story."
"Those are your options. Make your choice."
"Dr. Bones, I'm bored," Parker's voice whined from the bedroom. "Can I please play my DS now? I promise to be good!"
"No, Park, no video games. Find a book to read or something."
"Seems like you have your hands full," Sully remarked, his smile widening. "Where's Booth?" Sully had watched the agent leave fifteen minutes before while circling the apartment building. Once he knew Booth was gone, Sully had spent fifteen minutes debating whether or not he should go inside before deciding that he would not have an opportunity like the current one, a chance to speak to Brennan without Booth's imposing presence, again.
"He went to do some work on the house," Brennan explained. "Between work and the kids, he was feeling a bit stressed lately."
"So he left you to take care of all three kids by yourself? Surely you've been feeling the same stress?"
"I actually offered to watch the kids. He does more than his fair share of the child rearing plus there have been a number of agents out lately, so he's had a higher than average caseload. I thought he could use a break."
"That's sweet of you," Sully remarked.
"What are you doing here, Sully?"
"I was just in the neighborhood, thought I'd stop by. We never really got a chance to catch up last night." Sully flashed her an award-winning grin. Brennan stepped aside to let him move into the apartment, shutting the door behind him.
"Dr. Bones, what's a-r-c-h-a-i-c?" Parker questioned, emerging from his bedroom.
"Archaic. It's something that's very old and outdated." Parker nodded, disappearing back into the bedroom, engrossed in his book.
"He looks a lot like Booth," Sully observed, watching him go.
"He does. So, can I get you anything to drink?" Brennan had already decided that it was unlikely she was going to get any more work done on her book that day, so she might as well spend some time catching up with an old friend. Sully was usually an engaging conversationalist, and she typically enjoyed talking with him.
"A beer would be great, thanks." Brennan nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. As she emerged once more with a beer, she heard Noah's cries in the next room.
"I'll be right back," she promised, passing the beer to Sully before turning toward the bedroom. She found Noah awake but not in need of a diaper change. Thinking he was probably hungry, she made her way to the kitchen to warm a bottle for him. As she passed the living room, she noticed Kristen was no longer focusing on her work but was instead watching Sully intently as he sipped his beer.
Kristen followed Brennan into the kitchen and stood in front of her as Brennan readied the bottle. "Dad's not going to like that he's here," she informed Brennan.
"Dad won't mind," Brennan argued. "He and Sully are old friends."
Kristen shook her head. "Not after Sully dated you. Dad's not going to be happy that your ex-boyfriend who's still in love with you is here."
Brennan scoffed. "He's not still in love with me."
"Trust me, he is. And he wants you back."
"You're making this into more than it is, Kristen. Sully's just an old friend who wants to catch up." The microwave beeped and Brennan removed the bottle, testing the temperature on her wrist. Satisfied, she offered it to Noah who immediately latched onto the nipple. As they started back to the living room, Brennan said, "Why don't you go take your bath and put on your pajamas?"
"But Dad-"
"You don't have to go to bed just yet. Just get ready for bed."
"You just want to get rid of me because you're afraid I'm right."
"Kristen, please!"
"Okay, fine. But don't say I didn't warn you." Kristen turned back to her room to gather her pajamas as Brennan sat down beside Sully, cradling Noah as the baby sucked noisily on his bottle. Sully watched with interest.
"I must say, I never imagined you with a baby," he remarked.
"I never did either until recently," Brennan told him. "But then we found Noah and Kristen, and I didn't want them to go into the foster system, so this seemed like the best solution for everyone involved." She shifted Noah slightly in her arms.
"And you're happy with this? With settling down?"
"I am happy, but I don't really consider this settling down."
"You're telling me you don't miss the days when you were only responsible for yourself, when you could work whenever you wanted and go out whenever you wanted without having to worry about a babysitter? When your apartment wasn't covered in toys and games and everything else?" Sully gestured to the living room which was indeed covered with everything from Parker's cars to Kristen's markers which had somehow ended up scattered all over the floor.
"Well. . ." Brennan began, and Sully smiled. He knew it would not take long for her to realize that this was not the life she wanted, that at heart she was not the type of person to settle down and have a family. Brennan talked for a short time about the difficulties that came with raising a family and about the bumps in the road along the way. As she was telling Sully about the kids' most recent argument, Kristen came running out of the bedroom, her hair wet and a comb clutched in her hand.
"Mom, can you get the tangles out?" she inquired. Brennan nodded, turning to Sully to offer him Noah. Sully, however, held up his hands.
"I'm not too good with kids," he objected.
Kristen rolled her eyes. "Here, Mom, I'll take him." She held out her arms, and Brennan transferred the infant carefully to her before opening her own arms so that Kristen could climb onto her lap. As she began to slowly work the tangles out of Kristen's hair, inhaling the fruity scent of the shampoo the kids used, a smile spread across Brennan's face. Her mother had repeated this same ritual with her every night when she was a child, and she relished the opportunity to continue the tradition with Kristen. It was moments like these that reminded Brennan why she had grown to enjoy motherhood. She had not "settled" as Sully had suggested. Rather, she had simply added a new facet to her life, one which brought her more enjoyment than she would have ever believed possible.
"Did Parker go to take his bath?" Brennan queried as she drew the comb gently through a particularly difficult knot, pressing her hand above it so that she did not tug too much on Kristen's scalp.
"Yeah," Kristen answered, squirming farther back on Brennan's lap. They talked a little bit more about Kristen's day at school as Brennan finished combing her hair. When she finished, Kristen jumped from Brennan's lap and handed Noah back to her. "Thanks, Mom," she said before disappearing into the bedroom.
"It's worth it, though," Brennan remarked softly, almost as if speaking to herself. "Sure, it's difficult, and there are times when I wonder if it wouldn't be easier if it was just me again. But then there are times when I realize that it's all worth it."
They talked awhile longer about her work and how things were at the Jeffersonian and how her latest novel was progressing. After about half an hour, Brennan stood to put the kids to bed, Sully trailing behind her, still talking about the Caribbean. Both Parker and Kristen objected to going to bed without Booth around, but Brennan insisted that they go anyway. Two forehead kisses, one last-minute bathroom break, one frantic check on the puppy, and two glasses of water later, Brennan finally managed to get them both settled and flipped off the light in the room as she left. Sully still followed close behind.
"You know, Tempe, you're pretty good at this motherhood thing," he remarked.
"Thanks," she responded, distracted. It was getting late; she wondered where Booth could be and why he had not called. A whole host of unpleasant scenarios ran through her mind. Perhaps he was trapped in the SUV, slowly bleeding out from multiple lacerations after his SUV skidded off the icy road. Or perhaps he. . .
Before she became too carried away imagining what might have happened, Brennan pulled out her phone and pressed the first button on speed dial. A rock song that she did not recognize played from the general direction of the kitchen, and she made her way there to find his phone sitting on the edge of the counter. Well, that explained why he had not called. "Something wrong, Tempe?" Sully questioned.
"I'm not sure. I'm just wondering where Booth is. It's not like him to be this late."
"It's not, is it?" Brennan shook her head, too distracted by thoughts of Booth to notice that Sully was slowly moving closer to her. She turned her head and suddenly found his lips pressed to hers. Her reaction was instant; her elbow shot out, catching him squarely in the stomach as her other hand grabbed his arm, forcing him into a kneeling position with his arm twisted behind his back. "What was that about?" he wheezed, coughing as he attempted to catch his breath.
"You kissed me!"
"Yeah, I thought you would be more receptive."
"Why would you think that? I'm in a monogamous relationship with Booth."
"I know. I just thought. . . you know what, never mind. You think you can let me go? I should probably get going." Immediately, she released her grip on his arm, and he stood, rolling his shoulder gently. "Goodbye, Tempe," Sully said. "I'll show myself out." And with that, he walked to the door, leaving Brennan standing in the kitchen wondering what had just happened.
When Booth returned forty-five minutes later, Brennan was working on her novel once more. He breezed through the door, throwing his coat across a chair, words tumbling from his mouth. "Sorry I'm late, Bones, but I put the knobs on the cabinets in the bathroom and was then going to put the final coat of varnish on the cabinets in the kitchen, but it took longer than I had expected. Except I couldn't leave until I finished because I didn't want it to dry, so I had to finish tonight once I started. I was going to call and tell you I'd be late, but I must have left my phone here because I didn't have it. And then on my way home, there was an accident which still has traffic backed up even this late because that's just the way this day's been going."
Brennan held up his phone. "You left it on the kitchen counter." She was still trying to figure out how to tell him what had happened without causing him to set out to murder Sully. She knew that she had to tell him soon because the longer she kept the secret, the longer he had to figure it out, and then his reaction would be twice as ugly.
"Yeah, I figured it might be there. Are the kids in bed?"
"Yeah, I put them to bed about forty-five minutes ago."
"Sorry for leaving you with all that, Bones. I did mean to be back to help."
"It's okay. It's not your fault."
"Anything else happen while I was gone?" She was silent for a few seconds, and Booth became instantly suspicious. His eyes narrowed. "Bones? Don't even think about lying to me."
"I wasn't going to lie to you," she assured him, standing and making her way to the kitchen. Once there, she grabbed a glass and filled it with water, taking a long drink. In truth, she was not particularly thirsty; she was simply trying to find some way to put off the impending conversation. Booth followed her impatiently, his eyes still narrowed dangerously and his arms now crossed across his chest.
"Well?" he finally asked. She slowly placed the glass on the counter.
"I'm just trying to figure out the best way to tell you."
"Tell me what?"
"Sully was over."
"What? Did he hurt you or the kids? Because if he did, I swear to God, I'll-"
"No, Booth, he didn't hurt us. If anything, he's the one who was hurt."
"What?"
"I may have elbowed him in the diaphragm and twisted his arm behind his back."
"Why? Last time you did that, it was because-" Booth suddenly broke off, his eyes flashing, and Brennan knew that he knew. "He made a pass at you," Booth growled.
"It was harmless, Booth. He just kissed me. I took him down almost immediately."
"Goddammit, Bones, it was not harmless. The bastard kissed you when he knew you were taken. I just want to-"
"Stop, Booth!" She enforced her words with a firm hand on his bicep. "Hurting Sully is not going to get you anywhere."
"I don't know. It might make me feel a hell of a lot better."
"Booth, please, just let it go." She thought for a moment that he was not going to listen to her, that he would go harrowing off to do something which would get him into serious trouble. Instead, however, she found him suddenly directly in front of her, his hard, muscular body pressed against hers. She stumbled back a few inches before her back hit the refrigerator, the cool exterior of the appliance in stark contrast to the warm heat of his body in front of her. His hands came forward to brace himself against the refrigerator as his lips descended on hers, pressing against them with an almost bruising force.
"I'm going to make damn sure you forget about that stupid kiss earlier," he growled as he pulled away briefly.
"Already forgotten," Brennan breathed, her hands reaching to pull his lips back to hers. He complied immediately, stepping closer so that she could feel every inch of his body pressed against hers from the hard muscles of his torso to the evidence of his arousal pressed into the soft flesh of her side.
"Well then I'm going to make sure it stays that way," he muttered into her mouth, one hand moving behind her head as his fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her head to his though Brennan felt they were already as close as physically possible. His tongue left his mouth, pressing insistently into hers, eliciting a low moan from Brennan. He seemed satisfied with this response, for he pushed his tongue farther into her mouth as his second hand moved down to cup her ass, grinding her hips against his. "Because I'm the only one who gets to do this," he growled, pulling his lips from hers. Brennan did not respond, still breathless. His lips next moved to her neck, sucking and biting the flesh there. "Or this," he added, his voice still a low grumble. Logically, Brennan knew he was acting as an alpha-male again, marking what he considered his territory so that no one would try to infringe upon it again. Normally, she would have objected to being treated as a piece of property, but at that moment, all she could focus on was what he was doing to her and the pleasant sensations it was causing to race through her body. "Or this." The hand behind her head danced lower, massaging her breast through her blouse. She moaned loudly.
"And definitely not this." The second hand circled around to her front, moving between her legs where he could already feel the heat of her desire. Her hips moved, but he removed the hand, placing it against her abdomen instead. Her hips ground against his, trying to increase friction as she pressed against him, letting out a slight whimper as his hand moved under her blouse, caressing the warm skin of her abdomen. It was not long before his hand moved upwards, pushing her bra aside as his frantic fingers ran over the flesh there. It was more forceful than their usual love-making, his caresses no longer gentle but frenzied, his frustration from the day now driving his actions. Not that Brennan was complaining.
His lips moved lower, attacking her collarbone as his hands moved over her chest, augmenting her arousal. She let her head fall against the refrigerator, her fingers raking down his back. Needing to feel his skin, she slipped her hands under the hem of his shirt in the back, the pads of her fingers flitting over the smooth contours of his back. Her fingers found the thin, raised lines there, reminders of his time in the army. She had seen them before, and he had told her the story of his torture, but it still did not stop her from tracing the lines, from thinking about how close he had come to death. They had both come close to death, actually, and both had the scars to show from it. Thinking about it, she realized that the fact that they were both still alive and together was a testament to their strength and determination.
Booth's groping hands reached her slacks, unbuttoning them. Grasping her hips, he forced them down, dragging her underwear with them. His lips found hers again, his mouth devouring hers as their tongues dueled fiercely. One hand went to work on his own pants while the other unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse before pushing aside the fabric and insinuating itself between fabric and skin. Somehow, his fumbling fingers managed to pop the button to his jeans and pull down the zipper. If either partner was thinking rationally at the moment, they would realize that they were standing in the kitchen with the only door separating them from the three kids in the apartment the bedroom door. Either Parker or Kristen could walk in at any time, and they would certainly have a lot of explaining to do. But they were not thinking straight at that moment, too blinded by frustration and desire. And so they continued.
It was later as Booth leaned against her, his forehead pressed against hers, that Brennan finally remembered the kids. "Booth, Parker, Kristen," she said, frantically pushing at his chest to move him off of her.
He blew air out through his teeth and hastily moved away from her, pulling his pants on. "That could have been very bad," he remarked, zipping his fly. Brennan nodded as she pulled on her own pants and redid the buttons of her blouse. She was suddenly aware of something cold and wet on her back, and it took her a moment to realize what had happened. When she did, she chuckled. "What?" Booth asked.
"We should probably mop up the water," Brennan remarked, pointing to the large puddle of water beneath her feet. When Booth had pressed her against the refrigerator, her back had pushed against the button which dispensed cold water, soaking the back of her shirt and pants and the floor. Smiling slightly, Booth disappeared and returned with a couple towels from the hall closet.
"You know," he remarked as he dropped the towels on the puddle and used his foot to push them around to soak up all the moisture, "I think this day might be turning around."
Brennan was searching for a couple files in her office the next day when Angela breezed in. "So, Bren, I've put off discussing this with you because of the case, but I'm getting sick of waiting."
"What did you want to discuss, Ange?" Brennan questioned, still distracted by her quest to find the files. She thought she had placed them on her desk.
"Sully's back in town."
"I know, Ange. I've seen him."
"I know you have, Sweetie, but I was just wondering if you knew why he was back."
"He said something to Booth about opening a sandwich shop." Brennan opened the top drawer of her desk and found the files sitting on top of its contents. She grabbed them triumphantly, turning to leave her office with them.
"What about his intentions with you, Sweetie? Does he want to get back together? Does he know that you and Booth are together now?"
"He does know Booth and I are back together as he showed up at my apartment unannounced the other evening. As for his intentions with me, I thought he just wanted to catch up, but his actions last night seem to indicate that I was wrong."
"What did he do last night?"
"He kissed me."
"What? After he knew about you and Booth?"
"He claimed that he thought I wasn't happy with Booth. It wasn't that big of a deal; I dealt with the situation, and he left."
"In other words, you beat him up." Angela smiled broadly at her friend. "So, how did Booth take this whole thing? You have told him, right?"
"We ended up having sex against the refrigerator. And now, I have to get back to work." Brennan moved past Angela toward the lab, and Angela followed quickly, still spluttering incoherently at Brennan's latest revelation.
Booth arrived about fifteen minutes later with three folders of information. "Based on the data you've given me, I have ID's for three more of the victims." Booth placed the folders on a side table, opening each as he spoke, revealing three color photos of the victims. "Rebecca Morris, age 36, Linda Nunn, age 42, and Melissa Straits, age 29. I brought dentals, and as soon as you get confirmation, I can notify the families." His voice was even, but Brennan knew him well enough to sense the sadness in his tone.
"The shallow grooves all appear to have been made by the same knife," Mr. Nigel-Murray announced. "It's a straight knife, probably a hunting knife or something similar. Did you know that-"
"No, and I don't really care to," Booth said quickly before he could spout off random, completely unrelated facts. "Is there anything else?"
"There's something here," Brennan remarked, bending over one of the unidentified bodies. Reaching for a pair or tweezers, she used them to carefully extract something thin and rectangular from the body. She placed it in a small metal tray beside her. "It's some kind of cellulosic material."
"Paper?" Booth questioned.
"Yes. It's fairly degraded, so I'm not sure if we'll ever be able to tell what was written on it. Hodgins might be able to give a more concrete identification, however, based on its composition."
"Did I hear my name?" Hodgins questioned, walking onto the platform. He turned to Booth, holding up a sample jar. "Cicindela dorsalis," he announced proudly.
"Is that supposed to mean something?" Booth questioned.
"I found it on two of our victims."
"So? They were in a forest. There are a lot of bugs in a forest," Booth pointed out.
"Not these babies. They prefer beaches along the Atlantic coast and Chesapeake Bay. The bodies were found too far inland."
"Our guy must have held his victims in a building somewhere near the coast. Can you narrow it down any further?"
"Sorry, dude, but I can only do so much. I'm still analyzing the soil around the bodies to see if I can find anything out of the ordinary, but so far, it's all fairly typical forest soil from that area. Did you guys have something else for me?"
"This was with one of the bodies," Brennan announced, passing him the metal tray. "It was likely in her pocket and sunk in during decomposition."
"I'll see what I can do with it," Hodgins promised.
"Booth! Brennan! There's something you two might want to see," Angela called. Together, both partners headed to her office. When they reached it, Angela was standing in front of the central table with her touchpad in her hands. "I inputted the data from the wounds on the first victim," Angela announced, pressing a few buttons. A 3D image of a woman appeared in front of them, spinning around slowly, revealing a number of areas highlighted in yellow, marking her wounds. "Using this data, I could estimate the force and angle of the blows and from there determine the height and weight of the attacker." Another press of a button caused a second figure to appear in front of the first, his fist raised above his head. He delivered a few blows to the victim, and the areas where he hit pulsed red. After a few seconds, Angela stopped the scene. "You get the idea," she said quickly. Another couple clicks removed the victim, leaving only the attacker on the screen. "Your guy is between 6'1" and 6'2" and approximately 180 pounds,"
"Have you compared the wounds from the other victims to ensure they're consistent?" Brennan questioned.
Angela shook her head. "Not yet. That was my next step."
"Good work, Angela. Can you let me know when you finish that?"
"Sure thing, Sweetie." Angela turned back to her touchpad as Booth and Brennan left the room. With a few clicks, a holographic image of the second victim appeared in front of her. "Sometimes, I really hate my job," she muttered to herself.
"So we're looking for a fairly large guy, likely someone in decent shape, maybe an athlete or something." Booth remarked later as he and Brennan sat at the diner. He reached across the table and snatched one of Brennan's fries from her plate. She swatted at his hand, but he simply smirked as he brought the stolen fry to his mouth.
"What makes you say he's an athlete?"
"Think about the victims; they were all strong women, all fighters. Rebecca Morris was a black belt in karate, Kaitlin Yeats loved kickboxing, and Melissa Straits was a cop. And he picked professional women, too: a federal prosecutor, an engineer, a CFO, a surgeon, and a cop. All women in male-dominated professions, women who knew the meaning of hard work and who had drive and ambition. This guy thrives on that. He likes to take powerful women and make them feel powerless."
"You're starting to sound like Sweets."
"No, I'm not. If I was Sweets, it would be more like, 'This dude digs powerful chicks'." They both chuckled at this.
"Is one of you Agent Booth?" a voice questioned from beside them. Booth turned to see their waitress standing next to the table, her eyes not meeting theirs and her hands moving aimlessly, sure indicators that she was nervous.
"I'm Agent Booth," Booth replied guardedly.
"Here. I was told to give you this." She stuck out a hand which was shaking slightly and held an unmarked white envelope. Booth took it, glancing up at her.
"Who told you?" he questioned. She bit her lip and did not respond. Suspicious now, Booth carefully opened the envelope to find a single note card inside. Taped onto the card were two words which had obviously been cut out of a newspaper: "Back Off." Wordlessly, he turned the card around to Brennan, and their eyes met, each wondering what this new development entailed for their investigation.