First off, thank you all so much for the reviews on the last chapter, and all your suggestions for reading as well as names :)
I haven't had time to read them all yet, but I'm getting started and it's nice to have a list of them sitting by for days when I'm bored and the writing just won't flow. As to the names... I've already picked through them and found a nice list of ones that I really like. Credit will be given when they are introduced :)
I'd like to apologize for the slight delay in getting this chapter up... this one was a bit of a struggle to get through, but I got it done, and it's actually a decent length! I hope you enjoy :)
"I have no idea what to get for her!" Booth hissed furiously, but Angela only smirked at him. He again glanced over his shoulder, checking to be sure that his girlfriend was still on the platform. She was, again, poring over the same set of bones, determined to find something new that would lead them to whoever this was that was stalking her. She'd been at it since he'd dropped her off, and still nothing had come of it. He wanted to take her to get some lunch, but she'd been snappy all morning, and her mood had not improved at all. He wasn't really sure that taking her away from the lab was going to help it, to be honest.
"You probably know her better than I do," Angela pointed out, eyeing him up and down pointedly. He rolled his eyes.
"Ange, now is not the time for you to start chatting about my sex life. You're her best friend, and you just throw this whole idea of a baby shower at me and expect me to know what I'm doing."
"Technically, you don't need to get anything. You're not even supposed to attend because you are certainly not female, but we're making an exception. Don't worry about it."
"And what about, y'know..." he glanced over his shoulder again, saw that she was still thoroughly occupied, and turned back to mutter, "Her birthday?"
"Ah, he hasn't forgotten. What a relief."
"I'm serious, you do realize that, right?"
"You have a month, handsome. Don't sweat it."
"Not funny. Ange, she hasn't let me get her anything ever, or let me acknowledge the day ever since I found out when it was, from you, if you remember... but this year is different. I'm not going to just pretend it's not her birthday because that's what she wanted in the past. You know her... she acts like she doesn't want stuff because she doesn't want to be disappointed. If I didn't do anything for it, at all... she'd be upset, and she probably wouldn't even tell me she was. But she would be, and that's the point."
"Alright, alright, don't get your panties in a bunch. Why don't you just tell me what she likes, and maybe something will come to mind. Although, to be honest, while I really would like to have this conversation, I would really prefer not to do it right now."
He sighed. "You're killing me here."
"And you're killing me. You realize that your girlfriend, currently the human tornado, is going to murder me if I don't have this sketch finished when she comes to get it?"
"I highly doubt Bones would be capable of laying a finger on you, Ange. Besides, what does she even need a sketch for?"
It was Angela's turn to sigh, as she flipped open her sketchpad to reveal the face of a young woman. It was obvious Ange wasn't quite finished with it—for one, there was only one eye and no hair. "You interrupted me," she said firmly, as if feeling that she had to explain why it was so incomplete. "It's for a limbo case. And don't even try to tell her to work on one thing at a time... she already freaked this morning while you were over at the FBI... yelling about how we couldn't put everything on hold for one case, and how she was already wasting all her resources just to find nothing over and over again... the only way I got her to calm down was by leaving her in peace and taking the next cold case we had on file. The minute she finishes going over that skeleton for the hundredth time today, she's going to be storming in here, pissed off. It's your choice if you want to be here to suffer the consequences when that happens. But hey, if you find a way to get her to relax... that would be great."
"Do you think it's the hormones, or the stress?" he asked hesitantly.
"Both. And it's not a pretty mix. Either leave, or make yourself into a lovely human shield that I can put in front of me."
He raised his hands in mock surrender, and then vacated her office.
God, what was he going to do with his Bones? He knew it wasn't her fault... she had a psycho after her who was very skilled at hiding his identity, and on top of it she was facing a pregnancy and... well, him, he supposed. She knew that he was trying to protect her because he loved her... she'd told him as much. That didn't mean she was as accepting of it when she lost herself in the work and things didn't turn out so well. Which was exactly what was happening right now.
He didn't even want to think about the conversation he was going to have to have with her at some point today... reminding her of her father's impending visit. Under normal circumstances, it could have probably waited, but Saturday was getting alarmingly closer and he needed to either make reservations or prepare himself for a thrilling evening in their apartment... which would probably entail him helping prepare the meal. If he knew her well enough, and he did, she wouldn't allow him to simply order take-out and pretend that it had just come out of the oven.
And under equally normal circumstances, he also wouldn't have minded cooking with her... but it was stressful enough on a regular day to have to deal with Max Keenan. To have to do it while the man didn't know about his daughter's pregnancy—something that he didn't plan on him finding out about any time soon—as well as having a stalker trying to get to her—yet another thing that the murderously protective Max did not need to be aware of—oh, it was going to be a great weekend.
Steeling himself, he slid his card through the system and jogged up the steps as the familiar sound let him know he was cleared. She looked up, a glare already set on her face, but it smoothed somewhat when she saw that it was him, and he felt himself relaxing as he saw that he wasn't going to be attacked. At least, not right away.
"Hey," he said softly, stepping over to her and gently putting his arms around her so he could warmly press his lips up against hers.
She smiled slightly against his lips before pulling back, and then gestured at the stark white skeleton that lay before them on the metal examination table. "I'm just about ready to give up."
"Hey, there might not be anything here, but we will find something. You know... they're bringing in the neighbors, and I'm questioning them after my lunch break... you wouldn't want to come along, would you?"
"If I'm being honest, I'd say that I probably am going to go crazy if I look at this skeleton again. Lunch first, you said?"
"You bet."
He helped her out of her lab coat, barely able to believe his luck. Who said mood swings were a bad thing? So far they were serving him just perfectly. He waved cheerfully to Angela as they passed by her office, and the artist just shook her head incredulously before turning back to her sketch.
"So, Ange tells me that you've got the team working multiple cases at once."
The conversation had been going rather smoothly, and they were up to their usual bickering and stealing food from one another's plates, so he thought it might be okay to try and get a few answers from her, and figure out what was going on in her head. From the sharp look that he sent him, though, he was starting to doubt how wise that decision might have been.
"I thought it unwise to focus all of our attentions on something that clearly wasn't going anywhere."
"You mean you thought that people were taking time away from other people's murders in order to prevent yours... and you thought that was a bad idea?"
She gritted her teeth, and he could tell she was contemplating the idea of just getting up and leaving altogether. Evidently something made her stay, because her face relaxed a moment later, and she said curtly, "We already did everything we could; now we just have to wait for more evidence to come through."
"If all goes well, we'll have that after this afternoon."
She shrugged and calmly picked up a fry and popped it in her mouth.
"Ange and I discussed baby names," she said after a moment, and he raised an eyebrow. If she was suggesting they change the conversation to this, then she really must want the other topic dropped. Either that, or the hormones were really getting to her.
"Did you come up with anything good?" he asked finally, using the bite of hamburger he had been chewing as his excuse for the prolonged pause. It must have been the conversation the two of them had last night, he decided, too. From the way Ange talked, there was no way they'd had a sit-down-and-relax type of conversation anytime today.
"Nothing for us... I told her we weren't starting on that just yet. She's come up with several interesting ones, though. Phoenix, Napoleon... do you think we should be thinking of unique names, too? I told her it might not be such a good idea, but-"
"Bones, whatever you want, as long as it's not too out there, and I'll be behind it one hundred percent."
She scowled. "But I don't want you to be. You're supposed to have your own opinions, Booth, otherwise it defeats the purpose."
He chuckled, and her eyes softened somewhat in response. He was glad. Leave it to her, though, to always argue her side... and when he simply gave her all the leeway she wanted, to argue that he needed to fight for his. He wouldn't have it any other way, though, because that's part of what he loved about her... how she never ceased to surprise him.
"Fine, then... do you have any ideas you want to run by me to get this opinion from?"
Her smile widened. "A few. What do you think of Everett?"
"Sounds like the mountain," he responded instantly, an innocent smile plastered on his face. Her eyebrows shot upwards; she hadn't been expecting such a quick—and honest—answer.
"Alright then, how about Oliver?"
"What are we going for with that one? 'Please sir, may I have some more?'"
She glared, but he knew she wasn't seriously angry with him. "Fine then, how about Joseph?"
"Nuh uh, Bones, we aren't using my middle name. Unless, that is, you want to put yours out there to be used as well. Speaking of which... why won't you just tell me what your middle name is?"
"Because I don't want to," she said firmly. He rolled his eyes. "Do you have any name ideas to offer?" she pushed, changing the topic back.
"How about Annabelle, or Avery?"
She wrinkled her nose, and he reminded himself that she had decided it was a boy. There was still time for her to be wrong, though.
"What, you don't like my choices?"
"Too girly. And I don't like names that start with 'A'."
"Wow, aren't we picky."
She slapped his arm lightly, and stole another of his fries.
"Colby," he suggested seriously.
"That... might actually have some promise."
"Wow, and here I was, minding my own business, thinking that I was gonna get shot down again..."
She went to steal another fry in retaliation, but he grabbed the plate and yanked it away, raising an index finger warningly. She sat back with a mock-angry huff.
"Alex?"
Her mouth twisted to the side the way it did whenever she was considering something but getting ready to say no anyways, and he wasn't disappointed. "I don't think so. It just doesn't... click."
He chuckled, and she glared again.
"What, I'm not allowed to know that phrase?"
"I never said that. In fact, I'm very impressed. Here," he picked up a fry, dipped it into the ketchup, and held it out towards her. She made to take it, but he pulled it back and tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. She crossed her arms.
"Booth, I am not eating off your fingers."
"Don't make me do airplane noises. You know I will."
She went to snatch it again, but only succeeded in getting a lovely amount of the red sauce across her finger.
"Look what you did!"
"What I did?" he exclaimed on a laugh. "You seriously-"
Just like that, the fry was gone from his hand and she had already popped it in her mouth. She grinned cheekily back at him as she chewed, and he glared.
There was silence for a moment, when neither of them reinitiated the discussion, and just like that the light atmosphere was gone. She shifted and looked out the window, feeling the change just as surely as he did.
"Bones, about your dad coming over this weekend-"
"It was a bad idea. I know, Booth. I'm aware."
"That's... not what I was going to say at all, actually. I was going to ask if you wanted to go out to dinner, or stay at your apartment."
She opened her mouth and then shut it again, her face flushing slightly. "Oh."
He smiled ruefully. "It's okay, Bones, I understand. This... it was unexpected, but we're going to turn it into something positive, alright?"
She bit her lip, nodding in hesitant agreement.
"Now, home cooked meal, or fancy night out?"
She actually cracked a smile, and he felt the tenseness in his shoulders lighten somewhat as her face relaxed. "I'm paying if we go out. Does that change which one you prefer?"
He contemplated for a moment, wondering where he now stood on the issue. Going out had seemed like the best idea earlier, but now... he was wondering if he really wanted to get dressed up and make polite conversation with soft music playing in the background. There was the guarantee of seeing Bones all dolled-up and pretty in one of those gorgeous curve-hugging dresses that he assumed Angela had something to do with... but then again, there was also the comfort of sitting around a table and having a safe, but unforced, talk with her father. And did it really matter what they looked like? While it might be nice to see her sparkling and beautiful—with the intent to impress him, even if she would deny it—she was always beautiful. He always said she could make even sweats look like the sexiest thing in the world. She disagreed, but he wasn't budging on the point.
"Why don't we stay in?" he suggested finally, his eyes twinkling as he mentally went through the possibilities for what they could cook. As long as he could convince her to either not go to work at all, or to at least leave early, he'd be perfectly happy to make the meal with her by his side to help.
She seemed to have picked up on his positive mood towards the idea, because she brightened as well. "Sounds good. What are we having, though?"
"Eh, we'll figure it out when we get there. Right now, though, we should probably be getting back to the Hoover building. We've got some people to interrogate!"
She laughed at his enthusiasm as he clapped his hands together and rubbed them together, leaning forward over the table. It didn't stop her from forcing him to let her pay for her half of their meals, though.
"Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth. Good to see you both." He closed his eyes and rolled his neck back slightly, running his tongue along his lower lip. To turn around, or not to turn around...
Bones solved the problem for him, in a way that he sort of wished she hadn't. But he shouldn't have expected less. She was the one to turn around and confront the psychologist.
"Sweets. We're here on business, not to see you."
To his credit, the young man didn't seem at all intimidated by her abrasive tone. Of course, he'd had quite some time to get used to it, but there was a time when it would have ruffled him or at the very least provoked an indignant response.
"I know. Carry on."
She tipped her head in a half-nod, and spun on her heel to go into the interrogation room. Booth remained firmly where he was, eyeing the shrink suspiciously.
"You're going to watch us, aren't you?"
"It's my job; take it up with Cullen if you disapprove. Oh, and I'll see you two after we're done here. We need to schedule another appointment."
Just what he needed to hear. Without actually giving a response, he followed his partner and firmly shut the door behind him, leaving Sweets standing in the hallway.
Brennan was waiting for him, standing just inside the door with her arms crossed over her chest. She had already sized up the man sitting on the other side of the table, and seemed to be a tad unimpressed by him. Booth couldn't really blame her, to be honest. He was scraggly, with a pale and sunken face. From the way his eyes darted, he was willing to guess that the man had definite affiliations with drugs, and probably alcohol as well. His fingers were tapping ceaselessly on the table, and they didn't stop as he dragged both the chairs out. He let her sit first before dropping into his own chair and leaning forward to prop his elbows on the table.
"So, Mr. Sullivan. Thank you for coming down."
"Y'know, you people... you people don't give me much of no choice, y'know."
He felt Brennan's eyes slide towards him, as if to say 'this can't seriously be a witness that's going to help us,' but he ignored it and kept his eyes locked on the target.
"And why is that, Mr. Sullivan?" he asked calmly.
The man just shook his head, which made his dirty hair flail back and forth across his face. His eyes switched to Brennan for a moment, twitching up and down her body before Booth's hand slammed down on the table. The one flaw with having a gorgeous girlfriend—all the scumbags took interest. This was the first time she'd been with him in the interrogation room in quite some time, he realized suddenly.
Sullivan jumped in his seat at the sudden, and loud, sound. "Dude!" he complained.
"Don't 'dude' me. We found some interesting baggies in your car, Mr. Sullivan. Have any idea what we're going to get back on the results when they test them? Because, you know, those tests don't really take long at all. From your record, you obviously know what possession can get you."
"Man, I'm here, alright? I'm here, just... just ask me some questions, alright?"
"Alright then, tell us about your neighbor, Tim Sampson."
"Dude, I didn't actually know the guy!"
"Well, I guess that's it, Bones," he said with a shrug, moving to stand up. "We'll just pass on that you were uncooperative, and see if one of the other neighbors knows more..."
"Wait, wait!"
Booth reseated himself, and motioned for the nervous man across from him to speak.
"Okay, I didn't talk to him much, but the guy... he was a totally nut bar, I'm telling you."
"How so?" Bones spoke up from beside him.
"He was obsessed with his job... all he talked about was this scientist lady and his 'big break'... I swear, I doubt she even existed. Y'know, a few screws loose up there, and all?"
Brennan looked like she was about to correct him, but he spoke up quickly to avoid it. He didn't need anyone knowing who she was, even if they weren't directly involved. There just wasn't any reason for this loser to have that information.
"Did you ever see anything suspicious, besides his obsession?"
"He was always lugging around a lot of equipment... had a ton of cameras."
Booth nodded quickly, and then posed his next question, which he was most desperate to have an answer to.
"Have you seen anyone at his house recently?"
"Well, I saw him. I mean... he does live there. But that was like..." he paused, calculating in his head for a very long time. "A couple weeks ago, you know, man. Haven't seen him since then. Hey, is it true that he's dead?"
They both exchanged a look, and it was her that pressed forward with the next question.
"Are you sure it was him that you saw just a few weeks ago."
"Well, I mean, he usually where's these like... baseball caps. But I mean, I thought it was him. Was he like, killed in a robbery or something? Hey, if no one comes to claim his stuff, can I help clean out the house? I've got these loans that I need to pay off, and-"
"We're still looking for his family, Mr. Sullivan. We'll call you back if we have any other questions for you."
"So, like... am I good with the whole... possession charge and stuff?"
"That's up to your parole officer. He'll be paying you a visit, so I'd suggest not skipping town unless you want to spend a long while back in the joint."
The man gave an overly-eager nod, his eyes wide, and Booth stood from his seat, rolling his eyes to himself as he opened the door for Bones and followed her out.
Sweets emerged from the observation room at almost the same time, and hurried to catch them as they started in the opposite direction.
"Hey, we talked about this! Evasion techniques, truth zone, avoiding our fears?"
He strongly resisted the urge to roll his eyes again as he scowled at the young man in front of them.
"We need to set up an appointment for the both of you. This new case is clearly putting a toll on your personal as well as your working relationship. We need to discuss it, in order to move past it."
He cast her a look laden with meaning, and she understood it immediately. They both turned their backs at the same moment and continued on their way up the hall. The psychologist jogged behind them to catch up.
"We'll call you," Booth threw over his shoulder, and gradually the shrink fell back until he simply stood in the hallway and watched them go.
"Where are we going?" she asked him curiously as they rounded a corner. "I thought we had a few more of the neighbors to question?"
"We do. We're just ditching the kid, getting some coffee, and then heading back. Besides, we have to wait for them to situate our next interrogation and all. They've got the whole street waiting around down the hall... hopefully Don's set up some sort of list for who's going first, because apparently there's a real host of characters in there."
"Fun," she commented under her breath.
"Hey, whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this, right?"
She nodded emphatically, resolve showing firmly in her gaze. "Right."