A/N: I know it's been WAY too long since I updated this story. I hit a wall trying to go from where I ended the last chapter to where I wanted to go next and after many attempts to force this chapter to be what I wanted, I decided I needed to step back and take a different path to where I want to go. How's that for a convoluted explanation? I think overall the story flow will work better now than where I was headed. I also went back and massaged the first three chapters a tad so you may want to re-read them (that and it's been sooo long!). Next update shouldn't take as long now that I'm past my writer's block and I hope to be updating this regularly again moving forward. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing Bones related except my imagination.
Brennan had just sat down on the couch in her living room, her laptop perched on her folded legs and a mostly full glass of red wine within easy reach when she heard the ringing of her cell phone from the other room. Booth. She recognized his unique ringtone instantly and felt the jolt of excitement that she always experienced when he called. She briefly considered not answering it, but couldn't resist the lure of a chance to talk with him and set aside her computer as she got off the couch.
They hadn't spoken in a couple days – only having met once for lunch since they wrapped up the Jenny Yang case earlier in the week. He'd called several times with invitations to meet for breakfast or lunch and apologies for revealing her secrets before she finally relented, deciding he understood her upset but not wanting to punish him to the point that it created a permanent rift between them. Her point had been made.
Picking up her phone from the kitchen counter where it was charging, she answered in her usual brusque manner. "Brennan."
Hey, Bones. We've got a new case that just came in. Some hikers with a dog discovered a body in a shallow grave in Prince William Forest Park and we've been called in to investigate. I'm on my way over to the lab to pick you up.
"Oh. Well, actually I'm not there. I'm at home. I was planning to do some writing this afternoon and evening so I came home early to work where there are fewer distractions."
Well, doesn't look like that's gonna happen tonight Bones. I'll be there in about 20 minutes to get you.
Looking over at her glass of wine longingly, she resigned herself to the inevitable. "OK. I'll be ready."
When Booth and Brennan arrived at the national park, one of the FBI field agents was waiting for them in the parking lot and led them about a quarter mile down a trail to where the body had been discovered. The band of field agents that had arrived first on the scene had all worked with the Jeffersonian before and knew how agitated Dr. Brennan could get when her remains were disturbed, so no one had made any effort to do anything beyond keeping the area immediately around the grave secured.
The stench of decomposing flesh mingling with the musty smell of the moist wooded area and lay heavy in the air as the duo approached the makeshift grave. The only portion of the victim that was visible was an arm which had been uncovered from a coating of dirt and leaves by pawing from the dog that discovered the carcass. One of the technicians was diligently taking photographs of the scene as it had been discovered. Snapping on a pair of latex gloves, Brennan knelt down beside the body and examined the arm projecting out of the earth.
Booth automatically pulled a handful of colorful index cards out of his suit pocket as Brennan started to share her initial observations. "There's still a lot of flesh on the body so whoever this is hasn't been here very long – probably less than 48 hours or I'd expect to see a lot more signs of animal activity . . . based on the length of the radius and the ulna combined with the painted fingernails, I'd project the victim is female, but need to uncover more of the remains to positively confirm." Slipping her hand gently into the victims, she raised them both closer to her face. "I think she fought back against her attacker. This looks like it could be skin under her nails so there's a chance she scratched him during a struggle. We'll check that out back at the lab and see if we can pull DNA."
Standing up from where she'd knelt, Brennan reached for her field kit and started gathering the tools she'd need to remove the dirt and debris that were covering the body without compromising any evidence. "I need to uncover more of the victim before I can tell you much Booth. It's probably going to take a little bit if you want to go talk to the witnesses," she offered, tilting her head in the direction of a young couple with a Golden Labrador Retriever that were being detained by the FBI field agents. Based on the amount of flesh still covering the remains, Cam could provide a more useful preliminary examination of the victim than Brennan. She was the meat expert. But since the body was still mostly buried, Brennan's unique skills were needed first. There was no one better at excavating a burial site while preserving forensic evidence. No one in the world.
Booth left her alone to do her thing and spent the next forty minutes or so questioning the man and woman that discovered the body, talking to the field agents that had secured the scene, and wandering around the perimeter of the dump site to get a feel for the scene while looking for clues. He found what appeared to be a fresh, shallow single tire track, too narrow to belong to a car or motorcycle but too wide to be a bicycle and got one of the FBI technicians to take photographs and cast a mold of the track. The whole time he was doing this, he kept one eye on Brennan – watching to make sure no one disturbed her in any way. As always, he found himself admiring her single-minded attention to her task. There was just something about the intensity and devotion to purpose that she projected which always captivated Booth at times like this. It was beautiful. She was beautiful and if it wasn't for the grotesque dead body disturbing the picture, Booth thought he could happily just sit and watch her for hours.
Brennan finally stood up from where she'd been squatting and lifted her arms to stretch her back, rolling her neck. Her muscles always got a little tight after kneeling in one position for so long. She placed a few small items she'd unearthed into evidence bags as she saw Booth headed back her way.
Booth looked down at the body and could see that Brennan had exposed about two-thirds of the head, including the face, and the victims torso, including both arms. Unburying a body the 'proper' way was a painstakingly slow process.
"So, got anything new to tell me yet Bones?"
"Well, the victim was definitely female, in her early twenties. Again, I don't think she's been here more than 2 days, but Cam and Hodgins can give a more precise estimate of time of death when we get the body back to the lab. Chances are, she won't appear in any missing persons databases yet. There's no obvious trauma to the head, so I'm not certain of cause of death yet, but look here," she said, pointing to the sternum area of the victim's chest. "There's a hole carved into her chest and her heart appears to have been removed. Based on the lack of hemorrhaging in the dermis, I'd say it appears to have been done post-mortem."
"Geez. I hope this doesn't turn out to be some sort of crazy cult or religious sacrifice thing."
Brennan stood there – legs shoulder width apart, hands curled into fists and resting on her hips, chewing her bottom lip as she looked down at the body she'd partially uncovered. "She didn't want to die Booth." Her voice was soft and no matter how many times they'd played out this scenario, or ones similar to this, she still sounded surprised and disappointed to be discovering the cruel side of human nature. "She fought back. She has classic defensive wounds on both her arms."
Booth reached out and placed a hand on the back of her neck, massaging gently in an effort to provide comfort and relieve some of her tension. He knew that for some reason, it hit her harder to know that the victims had struggled, resisting their deaths. Brennan stiffened for a quick second, then relaxed into his touch. She wondered with a quick flash of humor if he'd call this a guy massage. Intellectually, she knew she shouldn't let him touch her so familiarly and she should move away. But it was Booth and whether it was wise or not, she wanted his touch, reveled in it as she felt some of the strain in her shoulders dissipate under his ministrations. "We'll get him Bones. The bastard who did this? He doesn't stand a chance with you in her corner. We'll get him."
His hand fell away as another agent approached them to confer with Booth on which FBI field personnel needed to stay to process the scene and which could be released to go work on other things. Brennan dropped back down to her knees to continue the tedious process of excavating the remains, her confidence and determination strengthened by her brief exchange with her partner.
By the time Brennan completed her field work and turned the scene back over to the FBI techs, it was early evening and she knew the remains wouldn't be delivered to the lab until early the following morning. She called Cam and gave her an update on the situation as she and Booth trekked back along the trail to where his SUV was parked.
"It's getting kind of late Bones. What d'ya say we stop and grab some dinner together on our way back to DC?"
"Sure, that sounds good, but don't you need to get home? To Hannah?"
"Nah. I'll just give her a call and tell her I won't be back until later. It'll be fine."
In some ways, this was emotionally one of the more difficult stages of any new investigation. Leaving the crime scene, the condition of the victim fresh in their minds along with speculation about what may have happened. There was always a sense of righteous indignation and a burning desire to be proactively doing something, anything, to start finding justice for the unfortunate deceased, but they would have to cool their heels and wait until they had more information to work with. It was a frustrating challenge.
Booth knew from experience that the case would linger in his mind tonight, the feeling of powerlessness distracting him and darkening his mood. Hannah couldn't truly understand that sensation and she'd invariably end up annoyed with him for being a killjoy. But Bones understood. She felt it too. And right now? That's what Booth wanted. To be able to relax and unwind over a nice quiet dinner, maybe followed by a leisurely glass of scotch. Not alone, but with someone who inherently understood his mindset and could relate to his mood. Bones, his partner and his friend.
A/N: Comments?