Hello all. Sorry for the slow update... but hey, two weeks is pretty good by my standards, isn't it? No? Alright, fine, I'll try to do better in the future. Summer is coming to a close though, so I can't make many promises. *is dreading the start of school*
"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Korowski," Booth said as the elderly woman made her way out into the hallway. She made a sort of grunt in acknowledgement, clearly still displeased that she had even had to come at all.
"Thank god that's over," she muttered as she shook her head, leaning against the hard black walls of the interrogation room.
He chuckled. "What's the matter, Bones? Couldn't handle just one more loony from semi-suburbia?"
"Whatever that street is, it isn't even close to suburbia, Booth. The culture of the suburbs, for instance, wouldn't stand for a crazy cat lady on the corner, or a former wrestler that likes to listen to rap music at top volume at one in the morning. Did you notice how they seemed so uninterested in giving us information, and much more fascinated with implicating their neighbors?"
"They're quite the backstabbing bunch, aren't they? A real cheerful lot."
"I hope that's sarcasm," she muttered tiredly, rubbing the side of her head. "Ugh, I think I'm getting a headache..."
"Not surprising," he said lightly. "Come on, let's head to my office. I think I've got some pills stashed in my desk that might help with that."
Sweets accosted them in the hallway, which she really should have been expecting. She found herself much more annoyed than she would have been earlier.
"I'm not in the mood to deal with him," she said firmly to Booth, ignoring the fact that the man she was referring to could hear every word she was saying.
"Don't worry, babe, I'll handle it..."
She smacked him firmly on the back of the head.
"Ow!"
"Don't call me 'babe'," she said with a glare.
"Guys. Guys!"
"What part of 'we'll call you' did your twelve-year-old brain not get?" Booth snapped irritably.
"Oh come on, listen to yourself! That is so totally a defense mechanism. You do realize that, don't you? You both want to talk, you're just afraid of what the other one will think if you say that, because you're so used to using me as the third person to attack in order to form a stronger bond between yourselves!"
She could see that Booth was ready to pin the man against a wall and show him that he wasn't going to put up with his crap, not right now, but she beat him to it verbally, using her words like poisoned arrow tips as she spat them at him.
"I have had a very long day, and I am exhausted. If you know what is good for you, you will shut up and leave us alone. Are we clear?"
She had managed to invade his personal space at the same time, and he visibly gulped and took a step back. The shrink was silent as she stayed in that same stance for a prolonged moment, her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flaring. And then, without warning, she spun on her heel and stalked away, brushing past Booth without so much as a glance.
Her anger, so quick to suddenly flare up, vanished in a flash the moment she was around the corner, and then she just felt completely drained. It was late by now, past five o'clock... just about time for them to be heading back to the apartment for the night. Normally, she would have insisted on returning to the lab to get as much done as possible... but today she just wasn't up to it, and for once she was ready to admit it. There was absolutely no way she was looking at another bone today, no matter what the context was.
It was only when Booth caught up to her and spun her around to face him that she realized she was crying. His eyes flicked helplessly across her face, taking in the tears and the blank expression she wore.
"Hey, hey... what's wrong? Come on, talk to me," he pleaded, one hand tracing down her arm, the other gently reaching up to cup her cheek. His thumb brushed away a few tears, and his eyes locked with hers, willing her to respond.
"I'm just tired," she said at last. "Today has been... today has been very trying. Can we just... go home? Please?"
Confusion flitted across his face first, and then concern, but thankfully he didn't argue and simply placed a hand on her back and guided her to the elevator. It was probably very lucky that they didn't even catch a glimpse of Sweets as they made their way through the building and out of the main doors. In the state she was in, he would have had more ammo than she would like for their next encounter. She wasn't sure she would have been able to handle that.
When they got to the car, the tears had completely stopped. She grabbed a tissue out of the glove compartment and brushed at her face, cleaning away all the tracks they had left across her skin.
"Are you going to tell me what's really going on with you?" he asked, and he was a bit more forceful and probing with the question than she would have expected from him normally. She was glad of his firm attitude, though.
"What's going on with me is that I'm pregnant, and apparently it's a bit harder to control my emotions than I would like. I've never encountered this problem during my monthly cycle... the hormones are clearly much stronger, and the situation, the whole day, just got to me somehow."
"Right. Never had this problem before, huh, Bones?" his tone was suddenly light and teasing.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh nothing. Nothing at all. Let's get home and get something to eat, though, huh? What are you in the mood for? Any cravings, anything like that?"
"Just because I'm having mood swings does not mean I'm going to fit every aspect of pregnancy symptoms, Booth. I would like Thai for supper, just like any normal night."
"Alright," he agreed with a shrug, "Thai it is."
"You're not going to throw this all up in the morning, are you?"
She scowled across the counter.
"If men were physically able to carry unborn children, you wouldn't ask questions like that."
He laughed, "Alright, fine, point taken."
"Besides," she added, chewing a long strand of noodle, "I haven't felt nauseous in a while now... I'm fairly certain I'm past the morning sickness portion of the pregnancy. I wouldn't be complaining, either, especially around Angela or Hodgins."
"Yeah, they had it a lot worse."
She nodded, scooping up another forkful of vegetables.
"You didn't say much after we finished questioning the neighbors," she commented suddenly, and his eyebrow quirked up in surprise. She was waiting for him to say something in response, but when it became clear he wasn't going to, she calmly added, "I was wondering if you had any new theories. And I was sort of wondering why you wouldn't be sharing them, if you did. Because I know that you probably do. You usually do." She stopped short, frowning to herself, and then avoided his eyes.
"Are you more worried that I don't have new theories, or that I do?" His voice was soft, probing. Like he was afraid of frightening a scared animal. She gritted her teeth, but forced herself to answer his question. He was just being Booth; she couldn't begrudge him for his concern, not after all the times that had only led them into pointless arguments.
"Both would... worry me," she said, her voice halting hesitantly in the middle. His expression was open, and almost... apologetic, though. It had the frustrating effect of putting her at ease with no effort on his part.
"I'm not keeping things from you, Bones. I promise. I just didn't think that it was such a good time to discuss it... we were both tired; we had a long day... I just didn't want to bring anything else up. Y'know, a relaxing supper... a romantic evening..."
She gave him a knowing smile, but shook her head. "Not today, Booth. I don't think I'll ever be able to fully relax until after this is over."
"Huh. I remember you telling me before something about 'burning off steam in a constructive manner'..."
She leaned forward to punch his shoulder, laughing despite herself.
"Tell me your thoughts on the case. Please."
"Alright, alright. You win."
He chewed thoughtfully through another bite of chicken, dropping his fork back into the container and raising a finger into the air to signal her to wait a second. He stared at the ceiling, and the swallowed.
"Most of them, as you saw, were completely useless."
"A good portion of witnesses never realize the importance of what they see, and therefore become unreliable in trying to remember something they marked as insignificant at the time."
He nodded, "But there were a few, like Ms. Gustavson from the house across the street, who know a lot more than they're telling us."
"I thought she was very helpful."
The single woman, who lived only with her five cats—not quite on the level of a crazy cat lady, but definitely aspiring to it—had occupied the small green house across from Sampson's ramshackle home for the past ten years. Sampson had only moved in six years prior, so she had seen the entire span of his time in the neighborhood. And she was quite the nosy neighbor, to top it off. Not someone Brennan would like to live next to, but someone that might prove invaluable in solving this case. What she didn't understand was what Booth was implying.
"Why would she have anything to hide?"
He sighed, and—did his cheeks just redden?—he glanced away. "To be quite blunt, I think she enjoyed being brought in for questioning. Just a bit too much. She'll be back with some new piece of information, mark my words."
The faucet dripped in the background as she tried to recall the exact questioning from several hours ago... and then her eyes widened, and she pointed accusingly at him, a grin spreading rapidly across her face. "She likes you!" The smile vanished as a frown took it's place. Maybe she didn't trust this woman as much as she'd thought. It should have been quite evident that the two of them were a couple... they hadn't even been a couple back when they had been questioned almost daily by people they ran into on cases about their 'relationship.' Nowadays, it had to be ten times more evident that they were involved.
The last woman from a case that had become interested in seeing Booth again despite being questioned once had later tried to shoot her, and succeeded in shooting him instead. That memory would forever be seared in her memory, and it was a guarantee that it would come to the forefront of her mind every time they ran into a situation that even slightly mimicked the circumstances.
"Relax, Bones. She's not going to encroach on your territory or whatever your 'alpha-female-tendencies' are telling you." As though he could read her mind, he followed up with, "And if there's anything, y'know, wrong with her, Sweets will be all over it. Last time... this just isn't last time, okay? And the last thing I need right now, is for you to be worrying about me. If you want to worry about my well-being, worry about yourself. Because that's all I'm worried about, got it?"
She managed a slight smile, and then nodded towards him, "Alright, what else did you pick up on?"
"So far, we've gotten that he moved in on April 19th, 2004. He kept mostly to himself, but he purchased a camera at Mr. and Mrs. Redman's yard sale last July. All of the other neighbors corroborate that he had a collection of camera's and equipment, and that he probably never left the house without at least some of them."
"We already knew that, from all the pictures we found in his attic."
"Yeah, but what I don't get... is how everyone knew that he had this camera obsession—saw him with his equipment often enough to pick up on it—and yet no one, not one of them, can tell us about someone else coming and going from his house in the past six months."
"They had to have gotten in from the strip of woods behind his house."
"Yeah, but that doesn't explain where they parked their vehicle, or why no one on his side of the street ever noticed something strange. There was a window in that attic, facing the street. Why didn't anyone see lights on?"
"That... doesn't make sense."
"Exactly. I'm curious to see what Sweets has to say about it, to be honest; but at the same time I don't want to deal with him trying to pick apart our 'emotions' about the case."
"I'm surprised that he hasn't asked for us to be removed from it. He usually would, with the personal nature of it."
"He's got his reasons. Although, given what happened last time we had a personal case... I'm surprised he's not more involved."
"We said we'd call him," she remembered, sighing and dropping her head to rest on her propped up hand. "I really don't care to think about dealing with him either, though."
"Eh, I'll call sometime tomorrow. Let's just... I don't know, be the two of us, tonight, without him getting involved. What are the chances of him letting me make an appointment and then just hang up?"
"Not good, given his history."
"Tomorrow it is, then."
"What I found interesting was Mr. Daniels claim that he saw Sampson just a few days ago."
"Yeah, and in a rush to get his stuff out to a van. What he saw was whoever this creep is unloading all his important stuff because he knew we were on the way."
"Clearly, this man must look a lot like Sampson in order to be mistaken for him. Perhaps Ange can question him and do a sketch?"
"We can always try, but the guy was pretty adamant that it was actually Sampson. It wouldn't do any good, is my guess. We already know what Sampson looks like."
"He had to have disguised himself someway... it wouldn't be hard to get a wig to look like Sampson's hair, and Daniels said he was wearing sunglasses, too."
"My guess would be that he knew Sampson hadn't been reported missing, so he thought it would most inconspicuous to the neighbors if the man himself showed up. They probably already suspected he had moved, since none of them reported his absence either. It wouldn't be at all out of the ordinary for him to show up and start carrying things to his van. And it clearly worked... no one called the police."
"Why wasn't he reported missing, though?" That small detail had been bothering her ever since they'd gotten the case.
"From what we've been able to figure out, he had one brother that moved out of the country, and he was estranged from his parents long before he went missing. His father died a year ago, and his mother is in California, where he's originally from. I'm going to his work tomorrow to question his boss and coworkers... If you aren't too busy in the lab, I'd like you to tag along."
"Booth, nothing has moved in that lab, as far as this case goes, in far too long for my liking. I'm not going to spend another mind-numbing day staring at evidence that isn't going to change. Particles aren't going to magically appear for Hodgins to look at, and markings from a murder weapon aren't going to materialize on the bones for me to study."
He grinned, "Alright then. What do you say we head to the newspaper's headquarters early tomorrow, do some questioning, and then find a nice restaurant and have a quality lunch?"
"That sounds agreeable," she said, "But I want to pick the restaurant."
"Of course you do," he chuckled.
She just grinned, and reached forward to snag a long noodle that was hanging out of her carton, holding it up over her head so she could drop the strand into her mouth.
As if this were a cue, Booth reached forward to pick up his own container and stick another piece of chicken in his mouth. "Almost forgot the food... jeez, look what you do to me, woman. Got me all side-tracked with a table of heaven sitting right in front of me."
She smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "I am not 'woman.' I'm Bones."
He laughed, "You know I love you, right?"
A frown slowly made it's way across her face, drawing her eyebrows together. "Of course. Why?"
"Expression, Bones. It's an expression."
So... feedback would be appreciated, as always. I know, nothing much really happened in this chapter, but things are going to speed up pretty soon. After all, I still want this to be a solid 50 chapters.