And now, since I've had to unbearably short chapters, a long chapter! dun duh!
I don't own any of the characters on Bones except the one I just made up!
It had taken them awhile to get here. Here, being a hot, dry portion of the continent that seemed as if it went on forever and that if you stayed here for too long, you could possibly melt into the ground and be stuck. She wasn't sure why she got that feeling, but it came to her.
Brennan slicked her chestnut brown hair into a high ponytail, showing off her eye-catching jaw bone. Her forehead and the back of her neck were already beaded with sweat, which was, to her, a clear indication of the temperature. Somewhere over ninety, probably above one hundred, as well. She noted as she felt that her upper lip was also moist with sweat. Brennan saw that she was rapidly approaching the sight, as the tents and supplies became bigger and the distance between herslef and the pit became smaller.
"…They recommend that you drink a minimum of three quarts of water a day, as it gets very hot out here." The man walking next to her went on. She had known he was talking, but didn't pay attention, she'd heard all of this many times before and wasn't in need of a refresher.
They soon reached the site and Brennan placed her hands on her hips, her blue eyes wandering and observing every single detail of the pit that lay in front of them. After a minute of her hawk like eyes on the prowl, she stepped over to a plastic portable table and removed her bag from her shoulders. She set the tan messenger bag down and began digging through it for gloves.
At long last, she found the plastic, zip lock bag that contained her blue latex darlings. She opened it up and dug her hand inside, reaching for a pair. She wasn't looking at the bag; she was looking at the pit, anxious, as always, to begin working. In doing so, she didn't notice the white piece of paper that had been folded over neatly into a tiny square and secretly slipped into her glove bag.
Brennan carefully climbed down about ten feet and rejoiced silently when the souls of her tennis shoes touched the floor of sand and dirt. She loved being out here. This was what she was trained to do, solve age old mysteries and finally give families an opportunity to see what happened, to unlock histories most violent secrets. This, being out in a boiling, sweaty, grimy pit filled with decomposed bodies, was what she was meant to do. She was excited.
It's not like she didn't enjoy solving modern day cases with the FBI or identifying remains from limbo, it's just that she preformed her duties at the Institute day in and day out. It was just nice to switch things up every once and awhile.
In fact, she was so preoccupied; she forgot the stress her daily life brought her, which was nice because missing was much more painful than forgetting.
"Hey, can you hand me that Radius? I'm not certain, but I'm pretty sure it goes with this guy over here." A female voice called to her. Brennan turned around to see a tall, slim young woman with glimmering blonde hair that fell to her elbows and a very fair complexion. The woman smiled at her, wiping the her forehead with the back of her hand, smearing dirt across her face in the process.
"Sure. How do you suspect the Radius found its way over here?" She asked curiously, pulling at the camera around her neck.
She set up small white 'L' shaped piece of plastic that had lines like a ruler. The camera clicked and she took one more for good measure, and then set the device back around her neck. She bent down and carefully picked up the arm bone, which was fully uncovered by dirt, but still stained a grisly shade of tan.
She was careful where she stepped and approached the woman, handing her the Radius, which did appear to complete the set of remains she was working on.
"Can't say yet..." She finally answere Brennan's question.
The woman crouched on her knees, looking up and taking the arm bone with gratitude.
"Thank you." She smiled to Bones, pushing some of her golden hair behind her ear.
"You're very welcome." Brennan turned to begin her work, but the girl stopped her.
"You're Dr. Brennan, right?" She asked.
"Yes." She replied, then turned away, walking back to her starting place, she didn't want to talk about anything irrelevant while she was working.
The woman just watched her walk away, shook her head slightly and went back to her bones.
In her eyes, the day had gone well. She didn't talk to anyone, other than to call out orders. She's examined three sets of remains and had actually identified one with a name. The other two were still John Does. She'd drank plenty of water and it didn't appear that her fair skin had burned at all, other than the skim of pink on top of cheeks and under her eyes. And up until now, no one had bothered her.
"So is it true what they say about you?" The blonde girl asked as she swallowed the last of her beans. Brennan had been picking at her ham and debating whether or not to eat it. She looked up from her plate when she heard the musical tone of her voice.
"Is what true?" She asked back cautiosly.
"They say you're a real cold fish." The girl explained with a straight face. Brennan's eyebrows muffled together slightly and her mouth pinched up. She knew people talked about her, but she didn't appreciate abruptness (even if it was her own MO).
"I don't believe that's my area to judge. You form your own opinion about me." Brennan chose her words carefully. The girl's straight face didn't back down, she kept staring at Brennan as if she was trying to figure something out. Neither of them said anything else to the other for awhile. soon the rest of the team finished their small meal and packed up for bed.
"I think you are." She finally decided.
"Think I am what?" Brennan responded, already knowing the answer. By this time, they were alone under the tent.
"I think you are a cold fish." The girls face didn't break.
Brennan's eyes went ablaze and she felt a surge of irritation flow through her. She didn't like be underestimated. People always assumed that she was a cold, heartless person just because she liked to focus on her work.
If they just got to know her and learned how to work with her, they'd understand that she's got a real personality and she's a real human under the outer shell of her personality. Her friends and coworkers at the Jeffersonian had broken through to her. Booth had broken through to her lively side on many an occasion. She thought, trying to keep her irritation from manifesting into sheer anger.
"What is this, some kind of social, ritual in which you insult the other person to the point that are angry at you and eventually open up to you?" Brennan spat. She watched the corners of the girl's mouth quiver upward and her gray eyes seemed to dance in suppressed laughter. Brennan sighed.
"That is exactly what it is, Dr. Brennan." The girl grinned.
Brennan's face softened. She was one of those people.
"Do you do this to everyone?" She asked. The girl tore down her ponytail and shook her lengthy hair out.
"No. I only do it when I know precisely which buttons to push." She responded.
"Makes sense." Brennan commented, finally taking a small bite of ham, then wishing she hadn't.
"I'm sorry; I forgot to introduce myself to you." She stuck her hand out.
"Deni. Deni Masters." She smiled.
"That's an interesting name. French for 'Lover of Wine.'" Brennan commented, taking the girls hand.
"It's not my real name. I changed it because 'Rebecca' seemed to plain for me." Brennan nodded.
She thought back to how different life would be if her name was 'Joy'. She shuttered at the notion. She was most certainly not a 'Joy' type of person. She was a 'Temperance'.
For once, she didn't question other peoples reasoning, she understood it.
"So what's your story?" Deni asked, unaware of how loaded that particular question was.
Oh, the million dollar question!
Chapter four will be up soon and hopefully I will have Booth and Brennan caught up on the same number of days.
~Rhea~
Hodgins (via cell phone): "...tongue kiss the Maid of Honor at the reception."
Booth: "Who's the Maid of Honor?"
Brennan: "I'm the Maid of Honor."
Booth: (Shocked Face;)