The Rings in the Heart
Chapter 18 – She's My Cherry Pie (Gonna need a Warrant)
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Disclaimer: BONES is not mine – Rats! Foiled again…
A/N: I had so much fun with GG Wyatt in the last chapter that I may have to write something else featuring him in the future. Thanks for all the reviews & a *wave* to all the lurkers
The Jeffersonian Institute
The bones of Nizam Mubarak had been cleaned and laid out in precise anatomical order in the Bone Room, ready for the focussed attention of Dr. Temperance Brennan. The flesh of the victim had surrendered up all its secrets, but there was always additional evidence to be obtained from the bones. Whilst Brennan had been at her impromptu lunch / therapy session with Gordon-Gordon Wyatt, the well-oiled machine of the Jeffersonian Anthropology Unit had continued on down the path of forensic discovery.
Brennan entered the deserted Bone Room with her blue lab coat over her arm, surveying her prepared workspace with a cursory glance. She tugged at the Velcro fasteners on her sling, preparing to remove it, dropping her lab coat to the floor in the process.
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"You never did call me back, last night," said Angela from the doorway.
"I didn't actually specify that I would return your call last night. By the time Booth and I had finished talking, it was close to 2 a.m., and far too late to call you, Ange."
Angela made her way over to help Brennan get her lab coat on. The range of movement in the injured left shoulder of the Anthropologist was improving, along with the level of pain.
"Sweetie. This is one of those important best friend things that we haven't quite ironed the wrinkles out of yet…," seeing a wrinkle of consternation forming between Brennans' eyebrows, the artist shifted the conversation down a gear; into a more literal mode. "When I hear, from numerous sources, that my best friend announces to the entire Hoover Building that she's having a baby, I, as your best friend, call you. You, as my best friend, need to tell me all the details."
"As I told you last night, I am not pregnant," explained Brennan, still somewhat exasperated from her lunch with Dr. Wyatt.
Angela absently flicked her hair over her shoulder, and placed a hand on one hip. "Yeah, I got that message, loud and clear. Then you hung up on me! What is with you, Brennan?"
"All those people at the Hoover drew a flawed conclusion from what they overheard. Then they proceeded to gossip about it, just as Booth predicted. I'll concede that I should have provided more information to you within the context of what occurred, when we spoke, but Booth and I were in the middle of…" Brennan paused. The conversation with Booth; it had been one of 'their' moments, and she was not really comfortable talking about it to her friend.
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Angela smirked and lowered her voice. "So my phone call interrupted something?"
"Yes. But it was an intimate moment that I'd prefer not to discuss," replied Brennan.
"You were having sex? Why did you even answer the phone? Oh, Sweetie, I'll bet it was totally hot!" said Angela, becoming animated at the prospect of a juicy disclosure in recompense for being hung up on.
"No, we were not engaged in a sex act at that time, Ange!" said Brennan shaking her head at the notion that even she would have taken a phone call whilst in flagrante with Booth last night. "I really have to examine these bones now, because I am going to bake a pie when I get home, which requires some preparation time."
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Brennan snapped on some gloves and experimentally extended her left arm over the table, to reach for the skull. The twinge from her shoulder was bearable, and the discomfort retreated after she took the weight of the skull into her right hand; so she continued on with her examination.
"A pie? What kind?" asked Angela, momentarily abandoning her quest for details of sexy-fun-times that her BFF was having with Special Agent Studly.
"Cherry Brandy pie. It will require an hour to prepare, and another half an hour to bake. I bought the ingredients on my way back from lunch with Dr. Wyatt." Brennan placed the skull upside down on a tray and positioned the powerful magnifying light source over the foramen magnum in order to examine the internal surface of the cranial vault.
"Wow, Sweetie! Cherries? Talk about symbolism. You really do want to have Booth's baby, don't you?" Angela asked, her voice softening with emotion. She placed a hand on her friends' forearm. As Brennan turned her head from her examination, she made eye contact with her best friend. "Bren, I know you want to have a child. I'm really happy for you both. Seriously."
Brennan gave her friend a smile. "Thanks, Ange. But the choice of a cherry pie was because Booth said he liked it. The fertility symbolism of cherries was not a factor in my decision. In traditional Chinese culture, cherries represent immortality. Living forever is not possible, nor will consuming cherry pie extend life."
"Thanks. I'd already worked out the truth about immortality though, Sweetie," replied the artist, removing her hand from Brennan's arm. "Any pie that contains fruit is going to be a symbol of fertility. Booth has being trying to seduce you with that particular brand of symbology, using his pie for years."
"That sounds very much like Psychology…" began Brennan.
"I know, I know. You hate Psychology…" finished Angela.
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The Hoover Building
Asha Mubarak was back in the Interrogation Room for the second time in as many days. She remained impassive and withdrawn. Sweets believed that this was a combination of grief and her normal melancholic disposition.
On the previous evening, in between a deep and meaningful conversation, and the carnal call of their bedroom; Booth and Brennan had actually sorted through the contents of the box of documents and photographs that Asha had provided. The sister (now daughter) of the victim blamed herself for Nizam's death; her reason for doing so was based upon a recent rift that she had caused through her involvement in a project with a pharmaceutical research organisation. Nizam had discovered Asha's working relationship with Ricox Industries and accused her of betrayal of the ethical standards that he had worked decades to achieve, bringing shame to the Mubarak family name. The confrontation had been very public, witnessed by colleagues and friends at a faculty dinner, just prior to his departure to a remote location in the Congo for four months. He had not been seen since the night of the confrontation, nor was there any evidence that Nizam Mubarak had left the United States.
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Brennan was waiting in the Observation Room for Booth to arrive. He had spent the morning with Caroline Julian working through their summary of evidence, to see if they had a strong enough case to get a Federal warrant to obtain the full cooperation of Ricox Industries in their investigation. Booth believed that Asha had been targeted by the company to get to her brother (now her father).
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Booth entered the Observation Room. He displayed all the signs of being dragged through the Federal Prosecutors' famed 'Wringer of Sufficient Evidence'; his tie slightly askew, his waistcoat riding up, Cocky belt buckle off centre by five degrees, and a tightness around his eyes, which Brennan recognised as a sign of frustration and fatigue in her partner.
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"Was the evidence sufficient for Ms. Julian?" asked Brennan.
"She's 'considering' her response, Bones" grumped Booth.
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"Did she give you a hard time?" Brennan approached and placed her hands on his chest, walking her fingers up his chest in a quest to straighten the tie, after stepping in closer than she usually would do in a work scenario.
Booth swallowed visibly as he saw the light of mischief in her eyes. Today, it seemed that Seeley Booth was destined to be the plaything of strong women; although where Brennan was concerned, he kind of liked it. He breathed in, taking in the comfort of her proximity, visibly relaxing.
"Would you like me to kick her ass?" Brennan teased with a sultry moue, tilting her head into the position that loudly and silently requested the immediate attention of his lips.
"No, Bones. We need that Federal Warrant. But it would be kinda hot to see you try…," he commented as he closed the distance between them and proceeded to attempt to kiss the sultry expression off her face. She let a quiet moan of encouragement escape as his tongue stole into her mouth. Her hands skated over his illia and came to rest on his gluteals, which she squeezed with her strong fingers.
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"I thought I might find the two of you playing grab-ass around here somewhere! No wonder people are talking about your havin' a baby, if you're forever getting' caught in the Hoover attempting to 'make' a baby. A little decorum people!" boomed the voice of Caroline Julian as she entered the room.
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Brennan was not perturbed by the tirade or the circumstance. Her only concession was to release her grip on Booths' butt cheeks.
"Have you decided to pursue the Federal Warrant, Ms. Julian?" asked Brennan, as Booth disentangled himself and moved out of the firing range of his feisty partner.
"Your partner should have told you that I am still considering your evidence," countered Caroline, with a raised eyebrow.
"Booth informed me that you were deliberating. Do you require more information?" queried Brennan.
"Why ever would you think that, Cherie?" asked Caroline, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I simply dropped by to watch you fondle Agent Booth's derriere. To pass some time until my next appointment, you understand."
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Brennan glanced at Booth. He was wearing his best poker face, indicating that he was waiting for Caroline to tell them what she really wanted. The Prosecutor did not fail to disappoint them.
"Of course I want more information! I want to hear what your tall, dark, and melancholy friend in the Interrogation Room has to say," ranted Caroline. "Tell me. In between your little make-out sessions, did you get around to telling Ms Mubarak that her brother is actually her Daddy?"
Booth found his voice. "We're heading in there right now to tell her. There are some questions about how she was recruited to work with Ricox Industries that we'll need to ask as well."
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Booth and Brennan headed toward the doorway, intending to get on with the job.
"Not so fast!" Caroline held up a hand; then she pointed at Brennan. "You, Cherie, need to go in there and correct the family history of that young woman. Agent Booth can stay here until you're done. Then we'll decide what course of action to take."