A/N- Thanks for the reviews so far. They are always appreciated. Sorry for the very long chapter. Truth be told I couldn't stop writing. I hope it holds your interest.
I don't own "Bones"
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Angela Montenegro's Office
"Okay. On your recommendation, I took the x ray of the skull and inserted the correct markers. I believe we now have the "real" face of our victim." Angela said proudly and more than relieved that the new face, which admittedly bore some resemblance to her best friend, now did not hold even nearly the same eerie likeness it once held.
The image of the skull x-ray transformed into a face of a young pretty woman in her early thirties.
"That's great Ange." Booth told her, his own relief evident in his voice and body language. "Now we need a name."
"I can try to match her with the DC Department of Motor Vehicles database." She suggested.
"It's a start. Hopefully we'll get a hit. I want to put this baby to bed. Have you seen Tem…uh Bones?" He asked her.
"She's with the new intern on the platform." She told him as she scanned her image into the computer.
"Thanks." As he turned to leave she stopped him.
"Booth. Are you really not upset about Bren's date last night?"
He turned back around to face her, looking uncomfortable. "No. Should I be?"
Angela frowned. "Well I just thought since we all came back…that you…that she…" at his quizzical expression she stopped. "Oh, never mind." She waved her hand in shooshing motion. "Just go find Bren."
He gave her a full-toothed grin. "I heard that forgetfulness was a side effect of pregnancy." He teased her and laughed as she threw a book at him and it hit the door frame and not him on his way out.
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Jeffersonian Medical Platform
"So it wasn't the pear thing that killed her." Milo Jenkins, the new intern questioned with a face of obvious distaste as he followed Dr. Brennan around the body, nearly skidding to a halt in his wheelchair as she stopped suddenly to turn her direct gaze on him.
"The correct term is Pear of Anguish and no, it wasn't the cause of death although she probably would have died from the damage it did eventually."
"What about the slashes to the face?"
"Given the fact that the deepest of stabs wounds were inflicted post-mortem, the mere slashes that were inflicted pre-death were not sufficient enough to kill her."
"So what did, then?" Milo asked curiously.
"That is what we are going to find out, Mr. Jenkins. I need you to do a thorough cleaning of the bones so we are able to detect any significant damage elsewhere. Do you think you can handle that?" She asked him.
The intern gave her a hard look. "My leg may be disabled, Dr. Brennan. That does not mean my brain is."
Temperance was taken aback by the censure in the new intern's tone. "No, of course not. I never meant to imply it was." She explained, flustered. "I only meant that it can be a daunting task if one isn't used to handling the bodies of those that died recently as I am sure being a student of older bones, you are not."
Milo's face turned red and apologetic. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, Dr. Brennan. I am just so used to people questioning my abilities. For a moment, I thought…"
"It's alright. Mr. Jenkins. I have been told that sometimes my forthright manner of speaking can often get me into trouble."
"Now who would say a thing like that, Bones?" Booth said with a grin as he walked onto the platform. Temperance gave him a smile.
"Milo Jenkins." She said. "This is my partner, Special Agent Seeley Booth. Booth, this is my new intern Milo Jenkins."
Booth leaned over to shake his hand. "That's some grip you got there." He told him.
"I use my hands often." Milo motioned to the wheels of the chair as he gave the agent a derisive smile. "I'll get to work on that project now, Dr. Brennan."
"Thank you, Mr. Jenkins. I'll come by in a little while to check on your progress."
Booth rested his hand on the small of Brennan's back as he guided her to her office. "Are you scaring the new intern already, Bones?"
"Are you implying that I am hard on my interns?"
"Nope" he said popping the "p". "I'm not implying anything." He said innocently teasing her. She swatted him playfully on the arm.
"Seriously, though, has Angela come up with anything using the skull?"
"As a matter of fact she has and I am happy to say that our victim no longer looks exactly like you. Angela's running the new face through some databases to try and locate a match."
"Well, that's a relief. " She turned to him after she shut the door to her office and closed the blinds when they were both inside. "So I was right. She, whoever she is, had her face reconstructed to look like mine."
"It doesn't make it any less creepy." Booth told her as he embraced her.
"No but it does mean that her death is not necessarily linked to me."
"The jury's still out on that one."
"I don't know what that means."
"It means until we have all the necessary facts, I am not going to take any chances where your safety is concerned." He said pulling her closer. "I gave Sweets the file and photographs to see if he can come up with anything we can use."
"Booth, you know I don't put much credence in psychology."
"It's a soft science, I know." He said used the terminology he so often heard from her mouth. "Now are you going to kiss me or what?"
"Why do you think I closed the blinds, Agent Booth?" She teased closing the small gap between them. He leaned down, his mouth covering hers gently coaxing his way inside. His tongue delved passed the barrier of her teeth, making her moan in pleasure. She pressed herself into him as he backed her against the wall, his fingers entwining themselves in her hair.
The intercom buzzer in her office went off disrupting them. Breathing heavily, they came apart.
"It's Angela." Brennan told him.
"Later." He mouthed as she pressed the intercom button.
"Yes, Angela."
"Did you just run to the phone sweetie? You're out of breath."
"Um, yeah." She replied, her face flushing with embarrassment. "Do you have something for me?"
"Actually I do. You better grab that hunky FBI agent and get in here pronto. You're both going to want to see this."
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Angela Montenegro's Office
"Presenting Deborah Wallace." Angela stated with flourish as she brought up the driver's license and picture matching her image construction.
"Is this our victim?" Booth asked pointing at the screen.
"Yes and no." Angela answered with an exasperated sigh.
"I don't understand. The picture matches perfectly." Temperance said eyeing the image Angela created and the picture that was on the computer.
"Hang on. This is where it gets really creepy." Angela replied, her fingers lightly stroking the computer keys.
"That phrase seems to be going around a lot lately." Brennan mumbled.
"Well you're about to see why." The screen split in two with Deborah Wallace's picture on one side and another image beginning to form on the other. "This." Angela said pointing at Deborah Wallace "is our victim's license picture taken five years ago and this…" she explained pointing to the other side of the screen as the other picture came full into view "is our victim's driver's license picture taken two years ago. I triple checked this just so you know." She gave them a rueful look.
"This can't be right." Brennan stared at the images before her, her brows furrowed in confusion. The new face on the screen was her own, just a bit different, the same image Angela created yesterday using what was left of the face.
"Believe me, sweetie. I wish it wasn't but there it is."
"What does this mean Angela?" Booth asked feeling the rise of panic once again as he tapped the screen with his forefinger.
"It means… five years ago Deborah Wallace was a seemingly normal young twenty seven year old woman living in DC. Two years ago Deborah Wallace changed her name to Kathy Reichs; walked into the DMV with a new face…Brennan's face… and changed her license. It's almost like you're the Bridget Fonda character in Single White Female, Bren."
"I don't know what that means but gathering from your tone, it's not a good thing."
"No, no it isn't." Booth replied instead, the muscle in his jaw ticking, the only outward sign that he was upset. Inside he was reeling, more so than he had been the day before. This woman, their victim, obviously had some sick fixation on Bones, his Bones…going so far as to change her name to the main character in her well known books and even her face in attempt to become a replica of the brilliant forensic anthropologist.
"At least we have a name now and an address." Brennan said optimistically, straightening herself up from her leaning position at the monitor. "We can start there."
"There's more." Angela interrupted, a grim expression crossing her features. "And you're not going to like it." She warned.
"I haven't liked anything so far about this case." Booth said shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "So what else have you got?"
Angela explained as she typed a few more keystrokes. "I also found one Deborah Wallace in the Jeffersonian Database. It turns out three years ago she applied for the position of Bren's intern."
"Let me guess, she was turned down." Booth raked a hand through his hair.
"Flat. She never made it past the first cut. I can pull up the letter that was sent back to her if you like."
"No." Brennan shook her head. "I am sure it was the standard...um …rejection letter sent to all the refused applicants." Brennan tried to squash the emotion of guilt that took hold with a vengeance.
"Damn it." Booth exclaimed slamming his hand down on the desk making both Angela and Brennan jump. "The more answers we get, the more questions we have."
Temperance just stood in shocked silence, her gaze locked on the images of the woman.
Angela mistakenly took her silence as indifference. "Sweetie, aren't you the least bit upset about this?" Angela looked at her incredulously.
"Of course I am Angela but if I allowed myself to give in to my emotions, it could harm the integrity of the case." The truth was, she was more than upset. It actually felt like someone had just walked over her grave, to use a well known cliché' that even she understood. She suddenly did not know what was more disturbing; the manner of the woman's death or the fact that this Deborah Wallace had hated herself so much, she wanted to literally become someone else. Temperance Brennan found it hard to believe that she had been that someone.
"Let's go Bones. We'll bring Sweets with us. Maybe he can tell us something about the victim…other than she was a sicko, that is." Booth said already holding the door open for her. Angela did not miss the anger in Booth's voice or the way he looked at her friend with worry in his eyes.
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Temperance remained silent in the car as Booth cast worried glances her way. Sweets, too, remained silent watching the interaction between the two partners. He couldn't place a finger on it but he sensed that something in their usual dynamic had changed and quite drastically.
"Whatever you're thinking Bones…don't." Booth said to her finally. He wanted to reach out to her, to entwine his fingers with hers but he didn't dare, not with Sweets lurking in the back seat.
"You don't know what I'm thinking, Booth." She answered back alternating between annoyed and awed that he could read her so well.
"Yes, I do. You think that you pushed her over the edge by rejecting her into your program. Don't. It's not your fault."
"Actually, Agent Booth" Sweets said. "If this Deborah Wallace aka Kathy Reichs was actually as obsessed with Dr. Brennan as I am led to believe, Dr. Brennan's rejection may indeed have contributed to…"
"Not helping Sweets." Booth cut him off through clenched teeth, glaring at him through rearview mirror.
Lance Sweets visibly gulped. Pissing off the already on the edge FBI agent was not a good idea. "Sorry, you're right Agent Booth. My mistake. Dr. Brennan could not have known that the intern applicant was mentally unstable."
"Hear that Bones?…Not. Your. Fault." Unconsciously, he gave her shoulder a light squeeze of reassurance.
Temperance remained quiet, her eyes drifting to the scenery outside the window as it passed by. She knew he was only trying to make her feel better, to alleviate the growing burden of responsibility, however unwitting or unwanted, that now consumed her and she loved him for it. Funny, how easy it was for her to admit to the emotion now after so many years of denying it's existence. She loved Booth and however irrational it was; he loved her back with equal if not more intensity.
Her mind drifted back to the evening they met back at the reflecting pool six weeks prior.
Flashback
She sat next to him, the moonlight casting a wavering reflection on the peaceful lapping of the water of the pool. The awkwardness of the moment wasn't lost on her. This was Booth, her partner for six years and she felt like a gangly young teenager again, tongue-tied at the sight of a handsome boy. He was trimmer since the last time she saw him and his hair was cut in the classic military style but he was still her Booth.
She couldn't recall the exact moment when he became "Her" Booth, only that he had. Perhaps it was when she found a particularly exciting artifact and turned to share it with Booth only to realize that it was Daisy standing next to her or after that one letter she had written to him that never got sent or perhaps it was that one night surrounded by the flames of the campfire , talking with the local women when they told her in their own primitive way that love whether you admitted to it or not still exists and if it is not embraced it could only lead to dark torment. She had mulled that over a lot and came to the conclusion that she did love Booth and by not telling him, she was actually pushing him to do the one thing she was terrified of; she was pushing him to leave her.
There were so many realizations she made when she was away and a few here at home after she spoke with Angela; though she'd never tell her earnest best friend that. But what was stopping her now from revealing herself, from what she wanted was him. Booth wasn't sitting as close to her as he usually did and the hug they shared was uncomfortable at best, almost as if he was afraid to touch her. Was she too late?
"So, did you meet anyone interesting in the Makookoo Islands, Bones?" Booth finally spoke, never taking his eyes from hers as he sipped his coffee.
She fought back a smile knowing he only mispronounced the name to annoy her but she answered in the appropriated response. "It's Maluku Islands and yes I met lots of interesting people. Daisy and I even beat up a few guerillas…well I beat them up, Daisy for some reason stripped near naked. You would have been proud of me." She spotted his wicked grin and felt flustered. "Oh, you're asking me if I had sexual intercourse."
Booth nearly spit out his coffee at her blunt statement. "Same old bones." He shook his head. "I'm happy to see that hasn't changed."
Now she was confused. Didn't he want her to change? Wasn't that what held them back months ago before everything turned sour? She told him she couldn't change. He never said he didn't want her to.
Instead of asking him the plethora of questions she suddenly had, she chose to answer his. "I did not have the time or the inclination to engage in any sexual activity. And you?" She held her breath waiting for him to answer the one word that had the potential to destroy her entirely.
"It was a war zone Bones. The only action there was gunfire and bombs." He took a picture of himself out of his wallet and showed it to her.
She expelled her breath and nodded taking the picture, delicately tracing the lines of his face in the photograph. She wondered if he noticed. "You seem to be carrying quite a bit of firearms for someone who was only supposed to be training." She observed handing the picture back to him.
He didn't respond to her accusation but made one of his own. "You didn't write."
"No. I didn't write anyone. I thought it better that way." She admitted not revealing the one letter that she did write that was never mailed. She still carried it with her. Maybe one day she would let him read it.
He seemed to take some time to contemplate her response. "So did you find what you were looking for…over there I mean?"
She thought about her answer. On an anthropological level, she didn't even come close. On a personal level; that was a different matter entirely. Don't rooster out now, Tempe, she chided herself knowing she got the phrasing wrong. Here is your opportunity. Grab it. Grab it with both hands and never let go.
She squeezed her eyes shut, not daring to look at him when she answered. "I found that what I was looking for wasn't in any far off island buried under thousands of years of dirt, it was right here in D.C."
She heard him suck in a breath beside her but still didn't risk opening her eyes to look at him. "I'm afraid that I may have missed my moment." She admitted wiping a lone tear that seeped from her eye. Never had she felt so vulnerable by her own choice, never did she feel she needed to be.
"What are you saying Bones?" Booth had asked very quietly, his calm tone belying the drumming of tension underneath the surface. She could feel it emanating from him. She needed to word this right and she silently cursed herself for her lack of social communication skills.
She opened her moisture filled eyes then to look at him; to make him see her. The real her, not the cold doctor persona she hid behind. "I realize I may be saying this too late and by telling you this I may very well destroy the one relationship that I cannot live without but I want that chance, Booth. The same one you wanted months ago. I know I said I couldn't change and I still don't know if I can but a very smart person told me that love was compromise and I…I'm willing to try. For you. I just need to know if I am not too late; that you have not moved on as you said you were going to."
"Did you just say "love"?"
After everything she had just said, he had to focus on that. "I know that you may not love me and really, Booth, that's okay. I can accept that. Sometimes my manner of speaking can be a bit unclear. I just wanted you to know how I felt so there is no misunderstanding."
Booth softly chuckled beside her until it came to a full blown laugh. Now she was livid. "I bare my soul to you and you respond by laughing?" She had gotten up, knocking over the coffee that was left forgotten at her side and ran.
"Bones, Wait." Booth yelled out. He had caught up to her and pulled her around to face him. He was still breathing heavy from the exertion. "Just wait." He said in-between heavy breaths. "I wasn't laughing at you."
"Yes you were." She said indignant even though the tears still flowed. "I told you how I felt and you very clearly laughed. That's the last time I listen to native women."
"No Bones. I was laughing because you said the one thing that I had wanted to hear for so long. And you've got it all wrong." He murmured, slipping his hand under her hair to caress the back of her neck. "I do love you, I have for a long, long time and I don't want you to change. I never have."
"But when I…"
"I realize what it must have looked like. But you have to believe me. I fell in love with you…for who you are…not some trumped up version of who I imagined you to be. If you changed, you wouldn't be the Temperance Brennan that drives me insane with wanting most of the time, the Temperance Brennan I love."
She felt her mouth tilt up in a small smile. "That's Doctor Temperance Brennan."
"Bones…just shut up and let me kiss you."
There was no more witty banter after that as his lips claimed hers in a possessive kiss that expressed all the pent up desire held in for nearly six years.
End Flashback
Kathy Reichs' Apartment Building
"You look just like her." The superintendant of Kathy Reichs' apartment building had stared at Temperance in wonder.
Temperance had been about to correct him but at the almost imperceptible shake of Booth's head, she remained quiet.
"If you don't mind, we'd like to take a look in Ms. Reichs' apartment." Booth stated mostly to take the focus of his partner and onto the matter at hand. He was getting antsy and he knew it but this case had him on edge more so than any case he had worked before.
"Sure, sure. Just let me get the key." He muttered still unable to look away from Brennan, fumbling with the ring of keys he wore at his side. "She moved in about two years ago. She kept to herself, no complaints about her as far as I knew."
"Thank you." Brennan said to him after he opened the door for them.
"Don't go too far." Booth told the super as he walked away. "We may need to question you later…Yeah like he was listening to me." He bent down to examine the locks on the door. "Okay, no sign of forced entry."
"It is unlikely she was killed here." Brennan told him.
"I know Bones…just covering all the angles."
"Wow….this is…just wow." Lance Sweets exclaimed walking ahead of Brennan and Booth into Ms. Reichs' apartment. Sweets looked in awe at the room before him barely registering the fact that both Dr. Brennan and Booth were behind him. One wall was wholly dedicated to Dr. Brennan's book covers, each framed and organized according to publishing date. The various books on anthropology lined the bookcase shelves mingled with the books penned by Dr. Brennan. In the far corner of the room, stood a life size skeleton dressed in what could be a replica of the standard FBI suit.
Booth stopped short at the sight, eyeing the skeleton cautiously. "What or who is that supposed to be?" He knew without a doubt what it was supposed to be but the question came out anyway. Being here, in this place, even without any signs of foul play occurring here was making him queasy.
"Andy Lister, I presume." Sweets said going over to the skeleton and uttered a sigh of relief that the material the skeleton was made from was completely synthetic. "Fake." He said with a nervous laugh, touching the boney fingers that edged out of the bottom of the suit cuff.
"Of course, it's not real." Brennan rolled her eyes walking over to the skeleton to peer at the skull. "Even from across the room, I could see the color was too pristine to be a real skeleton. It's not even a good fake." She muttered feeling the urge to knock it backwards off it's stand. "That is not Andy Lister, by the way. This skeleton depicts a male not even 5'9" in stature. Andy Lister, as I wrote in my novels is clearly a larger build."
"More like Agent Booth's height?" Sweets suggested always the one to want her to get her to admit her non-partner like feelings for the FBI agent.
"Hey, don't bring me into this. Let's just have a look around" Booth said observing the apartment's décor a little more closely. "Get whatever leads we can and vamoose. Got it?"
"There appears to be a message on the answering machine." Brennan pointed towards the red blinking light on the phone.
"See. Now you're talking Bones. Let's see who is calling our little psycho."
"Agent Booth. Calling this woman a "psycho" is using such a broad term. I haven't had sufficient time to make an analysis and…"
"Look…she changed her face to look like Bones; she changed her name to Bone's character and look at this place. Bones could live here and feel at home." When Booth saw that Brennan was about to interrupt, he plowed on. "Not now Bones. I'm on a roll. She dresses up a skeleton to look like me...uh Andy Lister, another character in her books…so all of that" he spread out his arms-"adds up to psycho in my book."
"Okay Agent Booth. You made your point and while I concede that this Deborah slash Kathy woman wanted to be Dr. Brennan…"
"But she doesn't." Temperance cut in. When they both looked at her she continued. "Want to be me, that is. She wants to be Kathy Reichs, my character. I am not Kathy."
"Aren't you?" Sweets asked her. "While admittedly there are some slight differences between yourself and the character you created, it is obvious to me as much as it was obvious to our victim here that you are Kathy. The Kathy in your books however represents a manifestation of the self you desire to be, the self without the fears of abandonment. Unlike you, she is able to have a fulfilling sexual relationship with her partner without succumbing to the terrors of being left alone once again."
At Booth's murderous look, Sweet's realized that he stepped way over an invisible boundary. He took a voluntary step back from the furious agent wanting to get out of punching range in case Booth felt the need to strike.
Temperance turned away feeling moisture rise unbidden to her eyes. Everything Sweets said was true and she was sure he didn't mean to express it so bluntly or so cruelly. Only she and Booth knew of the immense steps they had taken in their relationship and she was sincerely trying to put her greatest fears behind her.
"Enough with the shrinky mumbo jumbo Sweets. Whatever you said has no pertinence to the case, got it? Unless you have something worthwhile to say about Deborah Wallace, I…we don't want to hear it."
"It's okay Booth." She said resting her hand on his arm in comfort.
"I…I'm sorry Dr. Brennan." Sweets managed to say through his nerve strangled voice which seemed to raise nearly an octave. "I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I only meant that…"
"Enough, Sweets." Booth ground out between his clenched teeth. The young psychologist obviously didn't realize he was on very dangerous ground and just kept sticking his foot further down his mouth. He really didn't want to hurt the kid, hell he even liked him to a certain point not unlike how he felt for his younger brother but hurting Tempe's feelings was a deal breaker, regardless of how close to being right he was in the past. But things were different now; Booth had to keep reminding himself. He and Bones erased the line he so foolishly drew years ago, had hurdled over their miscommunications and came away whole and together on the other side. He wanted to tell Sweets the truth; that his current assumptions were all wrong and they would eventually. Eventually everyone would know but for now he wanted to enjoy his new found relationship without the typical office gossip mill intruding.
The answering machine message turned out to be a computerized voice from a collection agency urgently requesting her to call back at her earliest convenience. No help there, Booth thought.
"Booth?" Brennan called out to him as she was going through the victim's mail. "Take a look at this." She showed him the various opened bills from a local plastic surgeon. The amount she owed was staggering. Apparently, total face reconstruction cost a lot of money.
"This is good, Bones. Real good. Let's start with Dr. Face Off. See where that leads us."
"I don't know what that means."
He grinned, his first honest grin since they were in Bone's office earlier in the day. "I'll show you someday." He clapped his hands, signaling for Sweets who was looking in the victim's bedroom. "Okay Sweets…chop, chop. We're leaving."
Sweets ran down the small hallway. "But I'm not…."
"Save it for later. Don't worry, we'll be back but right now we have a plastic surgeon to question."
"Wait a minute. You think her plastic surgeon did this? I don't think so."
Booth threw his hands in the air in frustration. "Okay I give. Why not?"
"Well it would be the same thing as Dr. Brennan here burning one of her books or an artist destroying his own painting. I just don't see it happening…at least not without a really good reason."
"Are you comparing someone who does boob jobs for a living with a writer or a painter? Have you been taking candy from strangers again, Sweets?" Booth was incredulous. He heard some wacky things coming from Sweets but this rivaled many of them.
"Just think about it, Agent Booth."
"He's right." Temperance voiced in as they made their way out to Booth's SUV. "The surgeon might consider himself her creator of a sort thereby making it next to impossible to destroy his creation."
"Didn't Frankenstein destroy his monster?...Wait don't tell me…work of fiction, doesn't apply. Damn it!" Booth yelled kicking the wheel of his tire. "Why does someone always insist on pissing on my parade?"
Brennan knew better than to reply to his rhetorical question or correct him, not when he was in this mood. "We'll interview him anyway." She told him trying to placate him. "Even if he didn't kill her, he may know of someone who would want to." Then we could at least shift the focus off me.
Booths phone went off as they drove towards the plastic surgeons office.
"Booth." He answered.
"Booth, its Cam. We got a tox-screen back on our vic. Turns out she was given heavy doses of Suxamethonium Chloride a depolarizing neuromuscular blocker. "
"In English, Cam."
"It s a paralyzing drug."
"Now where getting somewhere. " He said with a nod of his head. "Would it have killed her?"
"Given the amounts we detected, I would have to say yes, Seeley."
"Thanks Cam…and don't call me Seeley." He pressed the end button of the phone. "We got cause of death. Tell me...would a plastic surgeon have access to a paralyzing drug?"
"Yes, actually. Many surgeons use various paralyzing agents during surgery to prevent the patient from moving and possibly causing a detrimental mistake."
"Uh huh, uh huh." Booth nodded his head feeling very cocky and wanting nothing more than to stick his tongue out at Sweets but he knew the kid would probably over analyze that too. "Can you see where I am going with this?"
"Oh. I get it." Brennan smiled. "I am impressed Booth. Now all we need is a motive."
"I still think you're wrong." Sweets called out from the back seat crossing his arms over his chest. They'll find out soon enough. It would, however be interesting to see the doctor's reaction when he was faced with the unwitting inspiration of his work.
Booth hoped he was right, even though his gut was screaming otherwise. It would mean that Bones never had been in any danger and it was all one of those coincidences he never truly believed in. The problem was his gut was rarely ever wrong.