Your birth is a mistake you'll spend the rest of your life trying to correct. ~ Chuck Palahniuk (Diary)
Chapter 18: I'm Talking About You
"So, you think that Tucker snapped because Charlotte stopped working?" Angela asked Sweets the next morning over breakfast.
"Kind of." Sweets paused as he buttered his toast, "I think it's less about the work and more about the changes she was making to herself. Every day, week, and month that passes, we as humans grow and evolve based on our experiences and the more she changed the harder and harder it became for him to keep tabs on her."
"So, what? He hoped that by taking Clay she would revert back to her old self?"
He nodded, "That's my working theory."
She shivered as she took a drink of her coffee, "Talk about your possessive, psycho crackpots."
"Talking about me again, Ang?" Hodgins asked as he breezed into the kitchen.
"Nah, you're just a crackpot. The preceding adjectives don't actually apply to you."
"Good to know." Hodgins ducked down and pecked his wife on the top of the head before making a beeline for the coffee maker. "Where is everyone?"
"Cam and Brennan took Vonnegut out, Charlotte and Pen are still upstairs and Gus and Booth are doing a check of the perimeter." Sweets explained without looking up from his breakfast.
Twenty minutes later, all occupants of the house had converged in the kitchen and were sitting around the large oak table, eating breakfast and watching the news in silence until the perky newscaster mentioned that Charlotte was turning 40 that day and Gus quickly turned it off.
Before he had the chance to sit back down, his phone rang. After answering it, he stepped into the dining room and then quickly came back into the kitchen, "Actually he's right here, sir." Gus held the phone to his chest, "Booth, the President would like to speak with you."
Booth stood quickly and took the phone from Gus, he took one deep breath and put the phone up to his ear, "This is Deputy Director Booth…."
The group watched with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as Booth gave an overview of the case from his own perspective. When he was finished, Booth nodded his head like a four year-old while listening to the President, every once in awhile he would respond with a 'yes, sir' or a 'no, sir' before looking over at Charlotte and motioning for her to take the phone from him.
"What did he want, Booth?" Brennan asked as he watched Charlotte wander into the next room with the phone fixed to her ear.
"Clay's been missing for a week," Booth sat back down at the table, "and he, uh…He just wanted to know where we were with the case and he wanted to let me know how important all of this is to him."
"Nothing like a call from the commander-in-chief to remind you that the clock is ticking, huh? He's probably just worried about the legacy he's leaving behind – this happened on his watch."
Booth rubbed his chin, "I didn't get that impression, Hodgins. I think it's more personal than that for him. Charlie mentioned that he and Clay had become close these last few years."
"Not to make matters worse but I was unable to trace those emails." Angela admitted slightly embarrassed. "He never used the same IP address twice and they all trace back to public computers. I'm sorry, Booth."
"Don't be, it was a long shot anyway."
Charlotte re-entered the room, "The President asked me to thank all of you for the time and effort you've put into finding Clay. He understands how impressive the strides you've made are with so little evidence. He also agreed with me that if we don't know more by Monday, I should start the preparations for Lou's funeral."
The team solemnly nodded and watched her leave the room without a word.
Cam leaned over to Sweets, "Should we be impressed or frightened that she's not catatonic at this point?"
Brennan stood and took her dirty dishes to the sink and then turned and addressed the group, "I don't think we should be anything but good at our jobs until we find Clayton Woods."
B&B
Clay watched with half-closed eyes as Tucker ranted and raved a few feet in front of him. He was waving a copy of that day's Washington Post, obviously incensed about something on the front page.
"Of course! I just knew when I picked that idiot Kinser to help me out he would do something to screw things up!" Tucker threw the newspaper at Clay, turning again and placing both hands against the far wall, head bowed and breathing heavily.
When the name of what he thought had been one of his most loyal advisors was invoked, Clay felt physically ill. Swallowing the bile that rose in his throat, he snuck a quick peek down at the paper at his feet and saw two things that caught his eye….the date: Friday September 12th, and the day's headline: Person of Interest Questioned in Speaker's Abduction. And there, right under the byline, was a picture of a smug-looking Steven Kinser. Closing his eyes, Clay silently cursed himself for keeping the man around knowing full well that Kinser had never liked Charlie, or what he thought their relationship did for Clay's chances of someday becoming President.
Getting control of himself, Clay opened his eyes and considered the man in front of him. Judging by the journal entries he had been reading incessantly, he knew the man had met Charlie in Afghanistan right about the time she had been imbedded with Booth's team. But the things he didn't know outnumbered the things he knew by a large margin. Clay didn't even know the man's name, he having not been inclined to formally introduce himself.
Suddenly, Tucker whirled around and started shaking his head violently back and forth. "That's it! It won't be long now before they find out about me, about where you are…" He gestured to the large German shepherd sitting obediently near the doorway leading to what Clay was sure were stairs leading to the second floor of whatever building they were in. "Jane here is going to keep an eye on you while I'm gone."
Clay gave him a questioning look but said nothing.
"Yes, I know he's got a woman's name…but it's not unheard of. Watch more television, Mr. Speaker." Tucker began gathering things from a shelf hidden from Clay in an alcove across the room. "Besides, I think Jane is a beautiful name, don't you?" He threw Clay a bitter look. "Of course you do, it is your wife's middle name, after all."
Finishing his deliberate tasks, Tucker moved to stand a few feet in front of his captive. "Now listen. I am going to leave you for quite awhile, I have some things planned that are guaranteed to throw Sarge off his game." He looked distant for a moment. "Gotta split his focus, hit him where it hurts him most, where he's most vulnerable…"
The insinuation behind what Tucker was saying dawned on Clay with a sickening wave of understanding, and he gasped before he could stop himself. The noise brought Tucker out of his ramblings.
"Oh, you think you got it now, do you, Clayton?" He considered the man bound on the chair in front of him for a moment. "Yeah. You sure do. Too bad there's nothing you can do to stop it, huh?" He turned and gestured deliberately to the dog, who jumped up and stood at attention in front of Clay. Tucker muttered a few words in what Clay thought was Italian, and the dog began to growl.
"Good boy." He patted the animal's head. "Keep an eye on him, boy." He nodded to Clay and threw his duffle over his shoulder, heading for the door. "See you soon, Clay. Have a good day!"
It occurred to Clay that the sound of a closing door had never sounded so hollow.
B&B
Hodgins stood at the counter in the kitchen carefully rolling out large sheets of pasta as Brennan and Penelope mixed and measured out the ingredients for Charlie's birthday cake behind him at the table. None of them seemed inclined to engage in idle chit chat, all enjoying the quiet of the post-breakfast kitchen and each other's company.
Just as Jack finished the last of the pasta, Booth popped his head in the swinging door and asked if he could be of any help, so Brennan put him to work coring and peeling the pineapple for the upside-down cake and manning the radio for suitable musical inspiration.
After getting the cake ready for the oven, Penny dropped into one of the kitchen chairs and sighed. "I love that cake, but it's a lot of work making it from scratch."
"But it will be worth it when it's done. It already smells wonderful, Penelope." Brennan replied, handing the younger woman a cup of tea.
"Thanks, Bren." She took a sip. "Hey…it just occurred to me, you don't like cooked fruit! Are you going to have any cake at all?"
Booth answered for Brennan with a smirk. "Warm pineapple, she'll eat. I hooked her on it when I grilled some last summer…now she can't get enough of it."
"Well, it's not really the flavor of cooked fruit I object to, it's the consistency. It's gets mushy and it squishes in your mouth…pineapple is one of the few fruits that don't do that."
Hodgins laughed. "Dr. B, did you just say 'squishes'?"
"I blame Booth for the loss of precision in my speech patterns." She wrinkled her nose. "But yes, 'squishy' seems to be the most descriptive word for what happens to most cooked fruit."
Suddenly the radio station began playing a familiar, upbeat song and Hodgins and Booth jumped up from their seats and began moving to the beat around the table, much to the delight of the women, who were alternately cheering them on and laughing.
"Who knew Booth would actually know the words to 'You Can't Touch This'?" Penny laughed. "Oh, this is classic!" She leaned on Brennan for support as Hodgins attempted MC Hammer's back and forth shuffle, resulting in his slamming into Booth and literally bouncing off the larger man and ending up sprawled on the floor.
Booth whooped in laughter, bending over to help Hodgins up, who was grinning from ear to ear. "Oh man, Booth…you're like a solid wall of cement!"
"Concrete." Booth and Brennan said simultaneously, causing Hodgins to snort loudly and grab hold of the table for support.
"You two…" Jack gasped. "You two spend way too much time together!"
B&B
Later that day, after a friendly but slightly subdued meal of homemade vegetarian lasagna, salad and French bread, the group slowly migrated into the living room for coffee and birthday cake. They were all quiet but unlike the rest of the week it was a comfortable, relaxed quiet not one fraught with anxiety and the unknown.
Angela looked around the room at the group assembled, her artist's eye taking in every detail and nuance of the scene in front of her. Historically, this was a big deal but on a smaller scale, the situation was very familiar and soothing to her. Her family, together, solving another crime. It made her smile to think about how much she had missed it.
Penelope sat down next to Angela and nudged her. "Hey…do you see anything interesting about that little group over there?" She pointed to where Booth, Brennan, Charlie and Cam stood by the fire, chatting.
Shaking her head automatically, Angela frowned. "No, I-" She turned to Penny, eyes wide. "Oh, my God! That's…"
"Really, really funny?"
"Yes!" Angela clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from bursting into hysterical laughter. "I wonder if the thought has even crossed Booth's mind."
"Doubtful." Penny smiled evilly. "But I bet Bren is thinking about it."
"You think? She doesn't really care about that kind of thing. Everyone has a sexual past."
"Yeah, maybe…but I have to say, I'm feeling a little left out. We're in the minority." She grinned.
"Yeah." Angela sighed. "Damn."
As everyone settled, Charlotte looked around the room full of people who, with two exceptions, had been relative strangers to her four short days earlier "I just wanted to thank all of you for doing this today. I appreciate it more than you know. Nothing but the obvious would have made this a good day but you did help to make it a little better."
Hodgins nodded, shoveling a bite of cake into his mouth before saying, "I'm just glad Booth stopped being a dick."
The room fell silent, all parties looking from Booth to Hodgins and back again, waiting to for Booth's response. Instead of Booth standing and threatening to take out his gun and shoot Hodgins they soon heard the unfamiliar sound of Charlotte laughing, "Oh my God! I thought it was just me who thought he was being a dick!" She blurted out in the middle of giggles that threatened to become uncontrollable.
"Hey! I resent that." Booth folded his arms and sunk back into the couch next to Brennan.
"It's so true, Seel. You have moments of unbridled and unparalleled dickishness."
An emboldened Sweets piped in, "They're not wrong, Booth."
"You," Booth pointed at Sweets, "only feel comfortable saying that cause the other two said it first. Come back and say that when it's just me and you in a room." He looked at Charlotte, "Give me an example of said dickishness, Red."
Charlotte stood up, hitched her hands to her hips and dropped her voice, trying to emulate Booth's timbre, "I don't care if you're tired and homesick, boys. Pick up you gear and suck it up, buttercups! Let's go! Chop chop!" She clapped her hands together to punctuate her last two words.
Everyone looked at her in surprise and then slowly but surely started laughing right along with her. Everyone but Booth, at least.
Penelope leapt from her seat, "Oh no…this is Booth!" Penelope too hitched her pants up, hooking her thumbs into her waistband. She affected a deeper, cocky voice and slouched slightly. "I don't care if you think you won the game, Miss Penelope, what I'm seeing here…is definite cheating goin' on. I was distracted and you would be too, if you were married to my wife! Because this guy doesn't lose at chess!" She ended the speech by pointing her thumbs at her chest and scowling.
The whole room erupted in laughter, except for Booth, who was sullenly wearing the exact same scowl Penny had just imitated. "I don't sound like that."
"Oh, you so do, Booth!" Sweets said, pointing at the disgruntled agent in amusement. Wanting to get in on the fun and back up his girl, he stood and affected an angry growl. Pointing at Booth, he said "And you? You're twelve! How would you even know what it was like to see a woman naked? Geez, Sweets!"
Booth rolled his eyes at the laughter that came at his expense. "Very funny, Sweets."
"Oh no…he definitely got you, Seeley." Cam smiled and stood up, crossing her arms. Then, in a whiny, almost parrot-like voice, she gave her own Booth impersonation. "Don't call me Seeley! Don't call me Seeley! We're just partners, nothing more! Shut up, Camille!" She had to duck quickly when Booth tossed a pillow in her direct direction.
"What about this one guys?" Angela stood, after looking down at her feet, she slowly lifted her face and offered the group a sweet, charming smile complete with twinkling eyes.
In unison, the group yelled out "That's the smile! That's the smile!"
Angela turned and winked at Booth. He muttered, "See if I ever smile at you again, Ang."
Hodgins stood and shook his head. "Alright, let me show you how it's done!" Then he turned and walked out of the room. Everyone looked around, confused, until Jack re-entered, arms swinging and chest out. He stalked over to where Brennan was sitting and clapped his hands together, rubbing them with delight.
"Alright, squint squad! Tell me what you got! Let's go, I haven't got all day! Chop, chop!" He pushed his shirt back with both fists, placing them on his hips. "Bones! Did you eat today? Don't look at me like that, you gotta eat! You're gonna waste away to nothing! And no, you can't have a gun!" He took a checker out of his pocket and flipped it in the air like Booth's poker chip, earning an appreciative chuckle from the audience and a growl from Booth. "Alright then, Bones…you do your bone thing and I'll do my cop thing and I'll come back for you later." Hodgins clapped his hands together again and moved to leave, then stopped and turned one more time, pointing at Brennan. "And no, Bones…I'm driving! My car, I drive!" Then he turned one more time and stalked out to uproarious laughter.
Once Hodgins sat back down, everyone was much more relaxed. Suddenly, Brennan stood up and they all looked to her expectantly. She leaned back, put her arms out and made a "come here" motion with her hands.
"Come on, Bones…" She said with a grin. "It's a guy hug. Take it!" The surprised laughter from the group made her smile bigger and Booth scowl harder.
Brennan sat back down. "And you know, the next day I asked Jack about it and he said there were no such things as guy hugs."
Booth rolled his eyes at the mocking he was enduring for that one. "Then why did you let me keep getting away with it?"
Brennan looked over at Booth with unrestrained desire and raised her eyebrow. "Well…duh!" She said, pointing to his body. Then she looked to their hysterical friends and frowned. "I used that right, didn't I?"
"Oh yeah, Bren…you nailed it." Angela chuckled, wiping tears from her eyes. "Perfect."
After a few minutes, the room quieted down and all eyes slowly drifted back to the woman who had started the Seeley Booth roast in the first place and they were all surprised to see Charlotte crying, "He is going to hate me."
Cam and Angela could see the damn that Charlotte had constructed to keep back the full flood of emotions she had been experiencing since the day Clay had been taken starting to falter so they quickly stood, collected the dirty dishes and took them along with the Hodgins, Sweets and Penelope into the kitchen. Left in the room, with her were Brennan, Gus and Booth.
Staring at the complex weave of the carpet beneath her, Charlotte repeated, "He is going to hate me."
Gus moved toward her before Brennan laid a hand on his shoulder and stopped him. She looked at Booth and gestured with her eyes to Charlotte before guiding Gus out of the room with her.
"No, he's not." Booth sighed as he moved to sit next to her on the sofa. Charlotte looked up in surprise when she realized that only Booth was still in the room with her. "How could he?"
She titled her head back down to focus on the floor, "A man who has been stalking me for the last four years of my life has kidnapped him and probably ruined everything he's ever worked for in one fell swoop. I'd hate me."
"No, you already hate you and you have since the minute we connected those letters to his disappearance."
"I should have been in that car, Seeley."
Booth laid a hand on her shoulder, causing her to lift her face toward his, "Charlie, I don't know Clay but I do know that if roles were reversed I'd be so relieved that Bones wasn't in that car. No matter what it meant for myself, knowing that he didn't get her too would be enough."
"That's you…" She sniffled, trying to inhale.
"The way I see it is that any guy you felt was worthy enough for you couldn't be angry with you about any of this."
"You're assuming that I choose good men."
He smiled, "I like to think so."
"He is a good man. He doesn't deserve this – any of this."
"And neither do you and that's why we're all here and we're not going anywhere until we find him."
She glanced over at him, "Actually, I've been thinking that maybe tomorrow you guys should…You know, get back to your lives. It's been over a week and you and I both know that as the days pass the chances of him being found alive get slimmer and slimmer."
"We're not going anywhere. Clay is alive and we will find him." Booth explained slowly, making sure that each of his words sunk in. "Besides, Bones won't let any of us leave until then. She's in it for the long haul."
"You're lucky I don't play for the other team, Seeley. Otherwise, I'd be all over that wife of yours." She saw a smirk cross his face and pointed at him, "Don't even think about it."
Booth grinned, "Too late."