Miss me? Writer's block showed up for a while, and I realized why. I hope to get back to updating regularly on this again soon.
For some reason, Booth insisted on her remaining at home the next day. She'd argued again and again that clearly there was nothing physically wrong with her other than the obvious, which was actually a normal human function anyways, and so she should get back to her job as soon as possible... but he seemed to have turned a deaf ear each and every time. He'd taken Tuesday off with her, citing 'personal reasons' to his boss, and was now seated beside her on the couch, pestering her.
"Are you sure you don't want to watch a movie, Bones? Or eat something? You barely had any breakfast, you know."
"I thought you were paranoid about my well-being before," she muttered as she rolled her eyes. Apparently it was possible for it to get worse. She didn't even want to think about how things would go once they were back at work. She could just imagine him tailing Cam around the lab, peppering her with questions about the safety of certain chemicals used in the lab, and trying to get her hours cut...
She decided she didn't want to think about it. Having someone concerned about her was a nice feeling, after so long going about everything alone. Having them constantly blocking her off to 'protect' her was another matter.
"When should we tell everyone?" she cut him off as he started in on asking her if she was comfortable on the couch or not.
He stopped short in surprise. "Well... I know that you're technically supposed to wait twenty weeks, but I highly doubt Angela will remain clueless forever. Heck, she might even be guessing at it right now."
"And besides that, we don't even know how long I've been pregnant for," she pointed out.
"Which is why we are getting you a doctors appointment pronto," he replied smoothly. "Have you decided if you want to find out whether it's a boy or a girl yet?"
"It would certainly help with planning," she said thoughtfully. "And it would give us more time to think about names."
He beamed widely at that second concept. "Names," he repeated with a gleam in his eyes, "What do you think so far, any ideas?"
"Booth, we've known we're going to have a baby for about twenty-seven hours. Hardly efficient time to even think about something like that. It's quite a ways down the road, anyways."
He shrugged, "Still, it might be fun."
"Did you get to help pick Parker's name?"
His smile faltered slightly, but he still nodded and answered. "Yeah. Actually, I picked it myself. Named him after a buddy from the war."
"Oh." She didn't know what else to say; from the way he'd just said it, she could tell that it wasn't a cheerful memory. She wondered if this was the friend Booth had been trying to shield, when he'd received the injuries to his ribs, or if it was another instance altogether. She judged that it probably wasn't safe to directly ask such a question. "Do you... want to talk about it?" she asked cautiously instead.
He shrugged and looked away... she took that for a no, and bit her lip. There were still some things that separated them... but that was okay. They weren't supposed to be perfect. She didn't like talking much about her past; of course he didn't like discussing his.
But today wasn't a time to be talking about the past. It was a time to be thinking about the future.
"What are we going to do about Parker?" she asked suddenly, realizing that her apartment wouldn't be exactly easy residence for four.
"Don't worry," Booth chuckled. "He'll be thrilled. I'm sure he'd love a brother, although he'd probably be just as happy with a little sister."
She nodded, "I figured, but that's not what I meant, actually. We'll need to convert the guest room into a room suitable for a baby, won't we?"
"Oh, right," he said with a frown. "Uhh..." he scowled and stared at the ceiling.
She glanced up as well, and then grinned teasingly, "You aren't going to find an answer up there, I don't think, Booth."
He chuckled. "Y'know what, Bones, we'll figure it out when we get there, alright? That seems to have worked out fine for us over the years, after all."
She couldn't suppress a responding laugh. "Very good point."
"Now, what do you say you and I go find some lunch?"
"I think I made it fairly clear that I wasn't hungry."
"Aw, c'mon. We'll get some fries and pie at the Diner, and you can have... pudding or something, if you really don't want a meal."
She shrugged, "I suppose that is an... acceptable suggestion."
"If it isn't my favorite couple," said a cheerful voice. They both looked up from their opposite sides of the booth to find Angela strolling over to them, wearing a white blouse and a red skirt that was just a tad too bright for the current dreary weather they were facing. Without inviting herself, she slid in beside Brennan and helped herself to a fry from the plate in the middle of the table.
"Ange," Booth said warningly, but she just grinned cheerfully and turned her attention to Brennan.
"Funny seeing you two here. I was on my lunch break." If she had actually come here on her lunch break without the hopes of finding them, then they had entered an alternate dimension. "So, anything new?" she prompted.
They looked at each other, and she felt herself wondering if this was a reasonable time to just tell the truth. Somehow, it didn't feel like it was... theirs yet, all of this that was happening. She didn't want it to be someone else's already, when she wasn't even adjusted. But Booth was watching her calmly, waiting for her to make the decision.
"No," she said to Angela with a firm shake of her head. "I feel much better, though."
"I see," her friend said, a doubtful edge tinting her dark eyes. But she didn't comment further, seeming to somehow understand the situation. "We've got a new case, if that interests you."
Brennan shot him a surprised look. He hadn't said anything about a new case. "What about the other one that we were working, the Caucasian female with the-?"
"Yeah, apparently that got pushed to the side."
"What exactly was so important that it got sent straight to the Jeffersonian without me knowing about-" his phone buzzed with an incoming message, and he snatched it out of his pocket and read quickly through whatever it was, his eyes hardening. "Right. Ange, why don't you head back to work. Bones and I are going to finish up our food here."
Something in his tone must have resounded with her, because she just nodded and quickly got back to her feet. "I'll... see both of you later?"
"Yeah. We'll be at the lab in a few."
She nodded, her eyes filled with concern, and then turned and left them there alone.
"Booth, what's going on?" she asked immediately, leaning forward over the table, their food entirely forgotten.
"Do you remember Tim Sampson?"
She stiffened. "Of course." It was hard to forget the obnoxious reporter that had followed her around for a month about her books before she'd gotten a restraining order. But that had been well over a year ago.
"He's dead."
"What do we know so far?" Brennan said as she climbed the stairs to her platform, tying her hair up in a ponytail as she went. The alarm was barely disabled by Booth's card before she was past it and standing next to the lab table where a set of remains lay neatly. Completely bone; not a trace of decomposed tissue. "Have these been cleaned?" she asked, spinning to confront the FBI technicians that were over at Hodgins station being lectured, already, for poor soil collection.
"We found them exactly like that after we got called in by a couple that was hiking and stumbled across them," a young agent said in exasperation. "Listen, we've done our part. We have other cases that need attention."
"Go on, get out of here," Booth said, waving them away and then turning his full attention to the squint squad. "What have we got?" he asked, seeing as no one had answered Brennan's initial question.
"Not much," Ange said, being the first one to speak up, seeing as Cam was in her office busy with whatever paperwork this had already shoved at her, and Hodgins was still laboring over his samples. Nigel was no where to be seen.
"How do we even know that this is Mr. Sampson?"
"Because of this," Hodgins answered, apparently having been listening to everything despite his eyes being glued to a microscope. He picked up an evidence bag and carried it over. "The absolute only thing on the body at all."
"And they took it off?" she asked incredulously as she accepted the bag.
"Apparently it was sitting neatly on top, so I let them off the hook."
She nodded, but the frown didn't go away as she held the thin bag up to the light to study what was inside. A driver's license picture, cut up so that only the picture was present, and no other information."
"We ran it through the computer as soon as it arrived, and checked for prints, too," Hodgins informed them. "Completely clean, but it gave us the identity. Do you two... know him?" he added, pausing slightly as he allowed a pointing finger to switch back and forth between them, his eyes wide and questioning as he took in their expressions.
"Unfortunately," Booth growled. Brennan ignored the conversation and set down the evidence bag, moving forward to lean over the lab table as she reached for gloves and snapped them on before lifting up an ulna and examining it.
"He was following you, and now he's dead?" Ange said loudly, pulling her attention back as she delicately set the bone back onto the cold surface.
"He used to be following me," she corrected. "I haven't seen him since I got a restraining order last February."
Booth pushed Angela out of the way and took over the computer as he began hurriedly typing and pulling up information. The artist leaned over his shoulder with a frown which rapidly changed into an expression of alarm.
"Where was the body found?" Booth asked instantly as he turned and fixed Hodgins with his piercing gaze.
The entomologist stumbled over his words as he snatched up a file and began flipping through it. Impatiently, Booth snatched it away and found pictures of the scene and a map depicting the location. He dropped it back on the table with a slap, swearing under his breath.
"Booth?" she asked worriedly, moving around the table to see what was on the computer screen. He provided the answer before she could find it for herself though.
"You took out the restraining order on February 8th, Bones."
She frowned, not seeing the relevance, and then her eyes widened. "That's today."
"Yeah, exactly. And you know what else? That body was in plain view of a well-used hiking trail. And this week that particular area was holding a nature convention or something. Plenty of people with camp fires and such camping out in the snow for god-knows what reason."
"The body was planted... so that we would know about it today specifically," she murmured, her eyes straying back to the skeleton. "Ange, I need you to do a face reconstruction. We have to find out if this is actually Sampson, or if something else is going on here."
"I'll get on it," Ange said with a nod, her eyes still wide. She snatched a sketch pad and pulled a chair up to a free table, getting a package of erasers from a drawer. Brennan placed the skull down in front of her along with a pair of gloves that her friend reluctantly pulled on, and then turned back to the rest of the team. "Where's Dr. Nigel-Murray?"
"Not sure, actually," Hodgins said with a frown.
She sighed. "Well, somebody try to get in contact with him. Booth, could you... fill Cam in on what's going on? I want to get started on figuring out what killed this man."
They both nodded, not arguing with her business-like tone as they hurried off on their allotted tasks. For a moment, it felt like everything was the way it had been towards the beginning of their work together as a team. Her clearly in charge, dictating what was to be done. She had been spending more and more time away from the lab lately... she'd missed this part of who she was.
And with this latest case, on top of her personal life and the changes that were charging at her now... she was sure she'd need every one of her strengths to figure it all out.
*Gasp* Could that be a... plot? Could this story actually have a POINT??
Yeah, that's why I was having a hard time writing. Apparently I was boring myself to death with my own writing. I hope I wasn't boring all of you as well, lol. This story is actually going to get interesting again! (or atleast, I hope you'll find it interesting)
Just a warning, though. If I happen to not update again within a week... it might not have anything to do with writer's block. It might have a lot to do with the terrifying prospect of the upcoming AP US History test, though. So you can blame that.
But hey, after May 7th... I'll have my life back. And I'll have all the time I like to write :)