A/N: Because of all of the reviews I decided to update yet again.. And now things get back on track and the story gets moving. I recommend reading from beginning to end in order to understand. Enjoy.))
18CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Krys Robin, for once, actually wasn't in pajama pants and a sweater while at the Jeffersonian. At the late evening hour, though most everyone else had went home, she remained currently hovered over the grey box that she was beginning to unscrew and pull apart. She stood in the center lab that was usually preoccupied by bodies and Doctor Brennan's squints. At the moment they had all been allowed to return home for an evening with their families, and well, it wasn't like Krys had anywhere to rush off too. And besides, she needed to get this done.
Wearing blue jeans and a zip up hoodie looking like the youngin' she was she carefully pulled the box apart revealing the inside. The red light on top had ceased blinking and blinking from behind clear goggles, lab regulation, brown eyes peered at the various metal pieces. Only, there was something that didn't quite match up. A piece of crumpled paper. Furrowing her brow Krys reached out with gloved hands and pulled it out. Pressing it against the cool metal table she'd carefully open it. The messy handwriting was clear in its threat: 'I will take away what matters most to you. I'm always listening.' A frown. What the hell did that mean? This guy, this serial killer, seemed to really love his games and clues, almost to an obsessive state.
Unsure of quite what to think or what it meant, though her mind was tossing the possibilities around, Krys reached for an evidence bag and tucked the paper inside. That Doctor Brennan, or Bones, or whoever she was could look at it tomorrow, look for trace evidence, something, anything. Whatever she did. But for now the question that plagued the analyst is what the purpose of the grey box was and why there was this paper tucked inside? Biting down on her bottom lip the young woman tucked her brown hair into a ponytail.
What was most important to the team? For Angela maybe some paintbrushes or sex. Both of which you could take away and she'd find elsewhere, so that option was out. For Hodgins, bugs, and they were never short on those. For Temperance Brennan, well, she was a puzzle, Krys somehow doubted she had any emotional connection to anything. Krys barely knew Cam. Pulling off her gloves she set them on the table with a heavy sigh. Then there was Lance but once again, you could always go out and buy new video games. Running her hands through her brown hair as best she could with it up her thoughts then came onto Seeley Booth. What was important to the FBI agent?
Krys' thoughts were interupted when she heard some footsteps a few feet behind her. Blinking she quickly turned her head just in time to see Lance Sweets who seemed to be trying desperately hard to pretend that he hadn't wanted to be noticed. Krys hid this observation relatively well as she looked to him in her own personal quiet, allowing him to speak first.
"Oh hey Krys." Came the weak voice from the young psychologist who had his hands shoved in his pants pockets, his shoulders slightly slumped. "I didn't know you'd be here." A lie.
"Yeah. Imagine that, at the place where I work." Krys responded softly, giving him a weak little smile. Upon further inspection she could see that his eyes were red, even sparkling with what appeared to be tears that he was trying to hold back. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep her usual sarcastic quips from escaping, it was a habit and something told her that it wouldn't help this situation. "Is something wrong?"
Lance swallowed, shrugging his shoulders uncomfortably. "Daisy broke up with me." Why was he telling her this? What did it even matter to her? He knew that his relationship with his now ex had been rocky at best but even so, being broken up with hurt. Badly. And even a trained psychologist sometimes couldn't deal with all of the negative, awful emotions that came with it.
"Oh." Krys blinked. She clearly hadn't been expecting an answer like that. Crossing her arms over her chest she leaned against one of the metal tables, if only just to feign being comfortable. "Want to... Talk about it?" Oh lord, could she come across any more Dawson's Creek? Krys silently cursed herself for even attempting to be helpful. She always wished she could help situations but whenever she attempted it, she always just came out socially awkward. She wouldn't have been surprised if Lance told her to 'fuck off'.
"Not really." Sweets admitted as he pressed his lips together in a sick little frown, shaking his head as his voice cracked, trying his darndest not to sob like a little kid.
"That's good." Krys found herself blurting out before she could even think out a response. Blinking she straightened, trying to explain herself. "I mean, not that you don't want to talk to me about it... Just that I wouldn't know what to say. I never really do in these sorts of... Yeah." Turning back around she pretended to study something on the metal table, even though the box was in the baggy.
Lance smiled a little smile. He actually smiled. It was funny, the way this young woman acted around people. Odd sure, off putting maybe, but it was kind of a breath of fresh air, and at least she was honest. He felt a little twinge of something he wasn't quite sure of and forced himself to ignore it as his face fell back into another frown. "It's not like I didn't deserve it." A heavy sigh and he found himself looking to his feet Krys meanwhile looked over her shoulder at him with a curious expression. "I'm a trained psychologist. I knew it was coming. So I prepped myself for it. I knew it was coming. It's always going to come eventually but still..." His voice trailed off and he lifted his gaze causing Krys so quickly turn her own away and back to the metal table, her back facing him. Lance let out a sigh, shaking his head at himself. What was he thinking? "G'night Krys." Turning back around he moved to leave.
He didn't know why he had even come in the first place. He had been watching her from the upper level where he had been moping for about twenty minutes. Just watching her work was a welcomed relief as for what possessed him to actually brave coming down to see her in a state like this was behind even his heightened comprehension. Now with his back to her in the quiet, Krys turned around.
She swallowed, as if pondering something, one last inner debate before she finally spoke up from where she stood, perhaps a bit more loudly than she had intended. "Soccer." Lance stopped and turned around, raising his brow at her in confusion. "I played soccer since I was five years old until I was eighteen. I love sports. I loved soccer. Sports and computers. My parents look nothing like me neither do my siblings. It's been a running joke that I'm adopted though I'm not. We're all over achievers. It's my mother's fault, she's a perfectionist. I'm yet to know if that's a problem or not." As Krys went on Lance could only blink blankly. "One time in second grade while playing dodge ball my pants came off. It was embarrassing but I lived through it. I used to go to zoo camp when I was little. My top five favorite animals are: dogs, sea lions, kangaroos, monkeys, and horses. My favorite color is blue. I am ridiculously insecure but I don't let it affect me when I'm around people. My insecure time is spent in the shower. I also can say the alphabet backwards if you'd like." Silence as Lance allowed it to sink in. And finally, he understood.
"Two weeks." He said a bit breathlessly the weakest of smiles spreading across the left corner of his lips. Their promise! It had been two weeks and she was telling him about her. Or at least, that's what he thought she was doing. As he watched her give a little nod with her own lopsided smile his eyes brightened. "Okay." He gave a wider smile mixed in with a chuckle as he nodded, though he didn't budge from where he stood. Krys instead took a few steps down the stairs but also kept some distance. "Thank you."
Krys tilted her head from where she stood, oddly calm for having just rattled off her bio. "No problem."
Lance continued smiling his weak little smile as he looked to her face in their own silent understanding of one another. Was this it? Was this their goodbye for the evening? "All the way off?"
"All the way." She nodded.
"Fair enough." A blush rising to his cheeks Lance looked to the floor with another chuckle, shaking his head before looking back up. Forcing himself to nod he then turned around with the initial plan to leave, that was before he found himself turning back around for a reason that was beyond his comprehension. "Vince is a lucky guy." Krys tilted her head at him in question. "I mean, to have you." Becoming even more uncomfortable Sweets turned to leave again, that was before Krys' voice stopped him.
"Vince? Vince doesn't have me." She frowned, her eyes filled with confusion in the momentary lapse.
Lance turned back around, startled. "But we saw you... Outside the diner. You and Vince. After I spoke to him inside he kissed you. We all saw it."
"That? That was a set up." Krys laughed lightly which caused Lance to become even more confused. Shaking her head she journeyed down the last few steps right toward the psychologist with a redness to her own cheeks from laughing. "Vince has a crush on Naomi in Paleontology but was too shy to say anything about it and she didn't even know he existed. She was at the diner. We set that up so she could see and maybe get jealous. It worked." Krys laughed again while poor Lance could only piece it together in his own mind. It had been a stunt? "And it worked. They have a date tonight which is why I'm here alone." Clasping her wrist and holding her hands behind her back she swayed on the balls of her feet, quite proud with herself. "Girls are relatively easy to figure out, especially ones like Naomi."
"It was a stunt?" Lance questioned, barely able to get the words out.
"You're not the only one who knows how minds work Doctor Sweets." Krys countered, though there was nothing scathing about it, and she gave him another little smirk which proved contagious as Lance soon found himself smiling about his own stupidity.
Lance lowered his gaze to the floor, shaking his head as he actually felt a wave of relief wash over him. How weird would that be? Vincent and Krys. Luckily it wasn't true. But why did he feel that way? He should have been disgusted with himself having just been broken up with, but he wasn't. This was something school hadn't taught him. It wasn't until he felt a light touch on the top of his hand that he looked up.
"You'll be alright you know." Krys told him quietly, apparently she had nudged him though she didn't dare maintain contact for more than a second. It wasn't in her.
"I know." Lance responded softly, looking down at her now he felt the strange urge to lean in closer. Maybe just to touch her hand. He felt his fingers move a bit at his sides but at the last moment they pulled back, and Krys hadn't noticed. "Good night." He found himself uttering the exact opposite of what he had wanted to say and inwardly cringed. On the outside he could only look down at her with such giving and caring eyes, his hands glued to his sides not daring to budge.
Krys, taking the hint and seeming unphased (at least to Lance's eyes), nodded, gave a little goofy salute before making her way back up the stairs to where she had been working. Reaching out for her gloves as Lance turned around to leave once again she felt a thought rush to her brain and turned on her converse clad heel rather suddenly. She couldn't just let the thought die without having an answer. "You really thought Vincent and I...?"
"Well... Yeah..." Lance nodded seriously, his voice still soft though in the quiet lab it carried pretty well.
Krys gave a nervous little laugh before turning back around to her work. "How could you even think that Sweets? I'm the data analyst. What weirdo would ever feel that way about me?" Another little laugh and she leaned over the table working.
"Yeah..." Lance said quietly, too softly to be heard before giving her back one last glance and then trudging away with a heavy heart.
Krys glanced over her shoulder as she watched him exit. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as everything seemed to crash down around her, that was until something sunk in. Her brown eyes widened and she quickly turned to the evidence bag, ripping it open she dumped out the parts of the box scrounging through it with gloved hands until she finally found a piece, her worst thoughts verified.
"Shit." She cursed before slamming the pieces down. It was a recording device. The son of a bitch had been recording everything since the body had been brought to the Jeffersonian. Her brain somersaulted with all of her worries as she grabbed the pieces and rushed down the stairs toward Cam's office. It was dark, locked. Then to Doctor Brennan's. Nothing. Standing alone in the hallway she blinked, her mind rattling off every thought until the worst one settled in. It had been in Booth's office. The killer knew the box would be kept in Booth's control. He was trying to mess with Seeley. What mattered most to Seeley? What could he have said that the recording box would have picked up.
Krys felt her stomach drop. Her lips parted as she uttered the name: "Parker." This was enough to drive her into a run. The killer was going to get Parker! Grabbing her messenger bag she grabbed one of the files that she had 'borrowed' pertaining to the team she was working with. Seeley Booth. Her eyes scanned the file frantically until finally she saw 'kin: Parker' and Rebecca's address and number.
Now outside the cool air hit her like a wave and she flashed down a taxi. Giving the driver Rebecca's address she then began to press the numbers on her cell phone she hissed as she got her voice mail. "Rebecca. Pick up. This is about Parker. It's an emergency. Rebecca?" No pick up. Krys hung up. Breathless she glanced at the front of the taxi, the driver was eying her but she couldn't tell him a thing. For one thing it was national security and another, she didn't want to cause a panic for who it didn't involve. "A little faster please." Her leg bounced and various houses were whisking past in the window. Now she was dialing Seeley's number. Busy signal. He always had lousy timing. But this was just BAD. Bad. So bad.
Seconds felt like hours, minutes felt like days until finally they pulled off in front of a modest, quaint little home. The street lights were on, there was no movement inside. This could be a good thing, or a very bad thing. Shoving money into the driver's hand she scrambled out of the car, finally getting Seeley's voice mail. Boy did these short little things ever drag on. "Booth this is Krys. The box. The box is a recording device." She panted breathlessly as she climbed up the stairs. Pounding her fist against the door. "He's going to get Parker. Seeley.. PICK UP YOUR DAMN PHONE." No answer but the door, which was apparently unlocked, slowly creaked opened.
Blinking, Krys swallowed before stepping inside. She kept the cell pinned between her shoulder and ear, her fists raised in front of her face as she hesitantly stepped inside. "Booth.. This is bad. This is bad..." She announced quietly, her eyes shifting back and forth in the darkness. No sign of Parker. It was quiet. Too quiet. Coming through the kitchen now she spotted a list of contact numbers in woman's handwriting. Rebecca's maybe.. Had she went out? That meant one thing...
There was a muffled cry from the living room which caused Krys to jump and then stand absolutely still. In hearing it again she finally rushed over where she found a young blonde girl of about sixteen tied at the legs and wrists with a gag in her mouth, on the couch. Krys reached over the couch and began to untie the gag. "What happened? Where's Parker? Rebecca?"
The blonde was crying now, trembling. "She went out on a date. I'm here to watch him. Then that man..He has Parker." She was sobbing and shaking, barely able to get the words out. "I don't want to die."
Krys felt her throat go dry. But she didn't have time to worry about any one select thing right now, practically throwing herself across the back of the couch she pulled the gag fully off the poor girl's mouth. "It's okay. I'll get you out of here. What's your name?"
"Bi–Bi–Bianca.." The girl managed to get out, feeling like she might just puke.
"Alright Bianca. Almost got it.. There!" Finally it was undone and Krys helped the girl to her feet, almost falling. Placing a hand on her back she made the girl look at her, eye to eye. "You run and call for help ok?" The girl nodded and then as Krys gave her a little push she took off. Krys, now alone in the house as she panted, her shoulders rising and falling.
Her hands moved to her hips as she tried to catch her breath, looking down at the floor she noted the maroon carpet. No blood, that was a good sign, wasn't it? That was when a hard blow came to the back of her head causing her to fall forward, right on her stomach, face down in the carpet. Moving her head to it's side she could feel the rug fibers against her cheek, near her eyes. Yes, definitely maroon. A deep maroon.
And then, there was only darkness.