Title: Breath
Author: Doc
Disclaimer: Not mine, but I think I could manage if they were.
Rating: T
Summary: A crime against Booth and Brennan forces them to face themselves.
Author's Note: Not sure how I feel about this chapter. Also, the drug info is basically factual.
She could see Booth and Cam with their heads bent together over something at Hodgins' computer terminal. Standing in the hallway just out of sight, she knew she was hiding, and prolonging the inevitable. Certain that Cam had told Booth the results of her exam, she felt a twinge of guilt at being enormously relieved she didn't have to have that conversation. How would one start? Hi Booth, we didn't have sex. No Booth, we just passed out together, no sex. Nope, no sex for us! She smiled grimly at her own foolishness, squared her shoulders, and forced herself to join the others.
"Dr. Brennan, from what Jack has pulled from Booth's shirt, it's safe to say that both drinks were spiked," Cam pointed to the monitor, which displayed the toxicology results.
Before answering, Brennan caught Booth's gaze and a long look of understanding passed between the partners. Things may be upside down in their world, as they were crime victims instead of crime-fighters, but their partnership was intact. The rest of what they were would be figured out later.
"A significant amount? You're sure?"
"Definitely a significant amount. And from what my preliminary results are showing me, this wasn't trailer park lab variety GHB either. It appears to be pharmaceutical grade," Jack smirked.
"Imported?" Cam queried.
"No, it looks like what we have here is a US product, heavily regulated by the FDA under the trade name Xyrem©. Only a few pharmacies on the east coast are licensed to dispense it."
"Why are pharmacies dispensing the most common date-rape drug in America? Isn't this stuff banned, like rohypnol?" Booth asked.
"Xyrem's© only indication is to treat and prevent the cataplexy attacks sometimes suffered by those afflicted with narcolepsy."
"Cata –what?"
"It's a type of temporary paralysis that causes one to fall to the ground unexpectedly and can be quite physically and psychologically damaging," Cam supplied.
Booth's phone chirped and he stepped away to answer. The conversation was short, and then he returned to the group.
"That was Sid. He checked his surveillance equipment this morning and it appears all cameras were working so we should have quite a bit of video. He also uses a software program to record all bar orders and tab payments, and is turning those reports over as well. Hodgins, you'll need to call Angela, she's got the best eye for finding things on surveillance videos. Bones, do you want to go with me to get the video and the bar tally info?" Booth said it as though it was a perfectly natural and normal question, as though he didn't usually just storm in the lab and force her out of her lab coat and into the waiting SUV.
It was the first time since the very early days of their working relationship that he asked. He was giving her a chance to say no, to avoid the time alone with him if that was what she wanted. Had he not asked, she might have been more inclined to refuse, but just by extending the option of saying no he took away her desire to do so. Not for the first time, she marveled at how good he was with people, herself included.
"Let me get my bag from my office."
He watched her walk away, as Jack and Cam resumed their discussion of Jack's findings. He could practically taste his relief at her agreement to accompany him. Maybe they could grab a bite of lunch on the way, and regain a sense of normalcy.
"Bren, there you are. Are you okay?" Angela looked up from the monitor she was setting up in her office, as Brennan walked in, cradling a steaming mug.
"I'm fine Angela, just a little tired. It's um, been a long day. I thought I'd help you go through the video and things from Sid, while Booth and Hodgins run down the pharmacies that could have supplied the GHB."
"Well pull over a comfy chair because this could be a long process. I hope you've had lunch. I'll have to go through the video of you and Booth to determine the exact time stamps, and then watch the feeds for that time frame from all the other cameras."
Brennan gestured to the stack of spreadsheets Angela had spread before her on the desk. "Have you gone through these?"
"I've glanced through them, but that's all. Sid did a booming business last night, unfortunately for us. There are hundreds of bar orders and bar receipts, but once we know what time you and Booth arrived exactly, and what time you left, we can eliminate the rest and focus our energy."
Brennan tucked her feet under her and raised her tea to her lips as Angela started the video. Crisp black and white images filled the screen, the time stamp showing it was early evening.
Bracelets jangling, Angela pointed the remote at the machine and said, "We'll probably have to go back and watch this again but I'm getting to the video of you and Booth first. We can backtrack from there if necessary. This surveillance video is really good quality, Sid knows what he's doing."
Brennan didn't answer, just watched the images flash by as she continued to sip her tea. Angela wisely didn't ask any questions, knowing instinctively Brennan wasn't in the mood to chat. Hodgins had only given her the barest of details when he called her to come in, and she was biding her time.
The video switched to real time from fast forward, with Angela's muttered, "Ah ha".
"There you are Bren, you and Booth are talking to some one at the door."
"That's Sid's cousin, I think. He works the door for Sid on the weekends when it's crowded, Booth said. He's with the fire department in the District."
"And here you guys are at the bar, talking with Sid."
Brennan set her mug down and leaned forward with Angela to watch for signs of the crime they knew was about to be committed. They watched in silence as Booth led her with a hand on her elbow to a table, and settled in beside her. The camera angle they were watching was from somewhere over their shoulders, and hid their faces for the most part, only occasionally catching one or the other's profile.
Angela snuck a few glances at Bren, to see her reaction to the intimacy of the contact she could see between Bren and Booth. His arm was draped casually over the back of her chair and when he leaned in to talk to her, he rested his hand lightly on her shoulder then pulled back slightly, his fingers flexing then fisting. Angela was a body-language expert, with an artist's eye for minutiae, and she knew that he was making himself not touch her. Bren pushed her hair behind her ear several times, and then would lean in towards Booth, their bodies angling towards each other as they spoke.
Finally Angela could keep silent no longer, and startled Brennan by pushing pause.
"Angela, what? Did you see something?"
"I did, Bren, I saw everything," she answered, swiveling in her chair to face Brennan.
"What? Where? Did you see the drinks being spiked? I should go get Booth." Brennan started to rise, but Angela grabbed her arm and tugged her back down into her chair.
"No, not that, sweetie. Listen, what happened last night between you and Booth?"
"What? What do you mean?" She sounded stern, but didn't meet Angela's eyes.
"Bren, I got the gist from Jack. He said you neither one remember anything from the bar until this morning. Did you and Booth… you know?"
"No! I mean, no Angela, we didn't. Nothing happened," she finished firmly.
"Are you sure, Bren, because from what I saw on the video …"
"I'm positive Ange, trust me. But what does that have to do with what you saw on the video?"
"Oh Bren," Angela said, before pulling her friend into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry."
She hugged Angela back confusedly, and then pulled away with a questioning look.
"Sorry about what Angela? What did you see that you're sorry about? Booth and I were having a nice time listening to the music in a bar, that's all."
"Sweetie, that was a date. An intimate, smoky jazz bar kind of date. The kind where you touch each other's hands to make a point, or lean in to whisper your unnecessary comments on the music. Maybe you lean against each other, or simply brush shoulders over and again. But it's definitely a date, no doubt. You and Booth just had the misfortune of it ending way too soon – you know, with the poisoning and all," she said knowingly, her eyes glinting.
"Angela, I'm sure it wasn't a date. At least not to me, and I'm sure not to Booth. We're just…"
"I know, hon, I know. Just friends, just partners, just whatever." She waved the comment towards Brennan with her hand. "Sure."
"Let's watch the video, Angela," she said as she grabbed the remote and restarted the images onscreen.
They watched the rest of the video in silence, Angela making notes and marking down time stamps. It was surreal to Brennan, seeing herself and Booth on the monitor, watching them have what appeared to be a good time. Despite her protests to Angela, yesterday evening she felt like she and Booth were in uncharted territory, possibly even date-ish territory, although she hadn't analyzed the feeling at the time. She just remembered the intimacy of their table, and the scent of his cologne, as it mingled with the aroma of her shampoo. He kept his arm around the back of her chair all night, and she remembered the whisper light touch of his hand on her shoulder.
Now, thanks to a bizarre crime against them, they were in a place they didn't have a map for. The friendly confines of Sid's seemed years ago instead of just the night before.