The Rings in the Heart

Chapter 14 - Reminiscences & Regurgitation

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Disclaimer: BONES does not belong to me. I don't have it in me to be a media mogul

A/N: Again, my apologies for slow updates. RL is insanely busy…

American University Campus – Washington DC

The FBI issued black SUV peeled off Rockwood Parkway and entered the Fletcher Gate of the university campus. As usual, Booth was driving.

"Slow down in here. Campus security are extremely vigilant" advised Brennan as he accelerated around the curved slip-road.

"C'mon Bones! They're not going to make trouble for a Federal Agent" he scoffed.

"This institution has a long history of collaborative work with Federal law enforcement. The campus cops are going to be immune to displays of your Federal credentials, Booth. Even with your charming smile," she replied with a smile of her own.

"Are you saying that my 'credentials' are charming?" asked Booth as he pulled into a parking space.

Brennan rolled her eyes as she twisted in her seat to reach the buckle release on her injured left side, but Booth reached over to click the release button. Her right hand met his as it reached the mechanism. She started to protest.

"I've got it" he said, as it clicked under his hand and the belt released. "You can make it up to me by being my campus tour guide" he teased.

Brennan let herself out of the vehicle and was adjusting her sling as Booth came around from the driver's side. He reached into the vehicle and handed her the small bag that she had brought along with her and shut the door of the vehicle.

"You've been a visitor to this campus before, Booth" said Brennan striding off in the direction of the Bender Library.

Booth pointed his key tag at the SUV to lock it and took a few jogging steps to catch up to her and placed his hand on the back of her upper arm. She glanced sideways at him with a grin, and he slipped his arm lightly over her shoulder, still wary of the patchwork of bruising over her left shoulder.

"This is where we first met, remember?" he asked.

"I have an eidetic memory, Booth. Therefore, I am not likely to ever forget our first meeting. We are going to the Hurst Building today, which is not the same building where my lecture was held" she clarified as they walked.

"Well, as you know, my memory is of the normal variety, Bones. The day we met is burned into my brain though. Y'know, that day, I had my first 'hot for teacher' moment since the ninth grade" he admitted with a grin which was a bizarre mixture of cockiness and self-depreciation.

"I don't know what that means, but it sounds like some sort of sexual fantasy" said Brennan, her voice getting a little sing-song over the sexual fantasy part.

"That, is what 'hot for teacher' means, baby. You were giving that lecture to a hall full of people, surrounded by human remains getting their flesh eaten off, and you were the hottest teahcer that I had ever seen" he told her, as they approached the large open quadrangle area.

"You wanted to have sex with me in a room full of students, and with human remains present?" asked Brennan taking Booth's forearm and steering him down a pathway that ran diagonally across the Eric Friedheim quadrangle toward the Hurst Building.

"No. Not literally Bones! Sheesh. You remember right? I saw that look you gave me when we first met…you were checking me out."

"What 'look' would that be?" she asked stopping, and turning to deliberately give him an appraising look that shouldn't have been unleashed outside the bedroom.

"Yeah, Temperance. That's the one; and probably not the look to be giving me just before we go to interview people about our victim" he said, taking her hand. Brennan gave his had a squeeze and tugged him in the direction of the Hurst Building, where hopefully, some answers awaited them.

The lab of Professor Nizam Mubarak was a climate-controlled technological marvel. The entry to the lab area was via a decontamination section, where both visitors were required to surrender their shoes for moulded slip on boots. Booth suspiciously wiggled his stripy socked toes as he donned the lab boots, and was relieved to find that the footwear was actually very comfortable. Booth surrendered his suit jacket and donned the waxed paper gown which he had been given. He then proceeded to help Brennan with her gown, but she refused to take her jacket off, because it would have necessitated the removal of her sling.

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The next area was an airlock which allowed them entry into the main section of the lab, as the door opened, the temperature and humidity rose immediately, and the air smelled of tropical things growing in a loamy environment. Brennan gave a sigh of annoyance as she broke out into a light all-over sweat, thanks to the side effects of her pain medications.

They were met by a petite Hispanic woman, who introduced herself as Connie, explaining in her Columbian drawl that it was her anglicised name. She had been working here for two years as one of three assistants working with Professor Mubarak and his colleagues on a number of projects.

"I am enrolled in a Masters program now, so I continue on here for another two years at least" Connie told them. "Come. I will take you on a tour of the lab and we can talk more, yes?"

Booth agreed, and Brennan nodded. She was feeling increasingly uncomfortable and a little nauseated breathing the thick, pungent air. Being distracted by the mass of exotic greenery that was begging to be explored was probably a good thing. It reminded her of some of the far flung field exploits of her past, before the Jeffersonian; before her career as an author, before the murder investigations, before Booth. Brennan became caught up in an unusual moment of self-reflection, internalising her own Anthropological methods to a past chapter of her life, and trying to describe it within an ethnographical framework. It was an interesting exercise. Most people did this regularly of course, and would call the process wool-gathering over how far their life had come.

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"Hey, are you okay?" asked Booth in a murmur near her ear. She startled a little as his hand touched her uninjured shoulder, and she suppressed the urge to gag as the nausea returned, with a side-order of dizziness.

"Yes, I'm fine" she reported, but she wasn't. Her face had become waxen, with a greenish tinge that was attempting to blend with the leafy greenness of the botany lab.

"Pardon me, Doctor Brennan, but you look like you are going to toss your cookies soon. In Columbia, I worked in hospital as a nurse, so I am familiar with this look that you have on your face" interrupted Connie.

"I didn't eat any cookies…" said Brennan battling for control, her jaw tingling and mouth salivating in a prelude to tossing a few metaphorical snickerdoodles anyway.

"Is there somewhere cooler, maybe with a bathroom, nearby?" Booth asked the now concerned lab assistant.

"Certainly, Agent Booth. It would be unacceptable to have anyone contaminating our plants with vomit" replied Connie.

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Booth glanced at the lab assistant and saw that she was serious. Muttering 'Squints' in a derogatory fashion under his breath, he placed a supporting arm around an increasingly unsteady Brennan to lead her through an inner doorway, which blasted them with an overhead air curtain.

The blast of warm moist air was the last straw for Brennan; ugly red patches had broken out on the skin of her neck and she stumbled a little as her gut spasmed in warning. Spying a trough sink running along one wall, she reached out toward it in vain. But as she gripped onto the waxed paper covered arm of her partner for support, she realised it was too late.

For the second time on this case, Dr. Temperance Brennan decorated the boots of an FBI colleague with her stomach contents. Upon this occasion, Special Agent Seeley Booth just happened to be the lucky recipient.