Thanks for the support! The fluff is at the end of the chap, unfortunately, because the beginning is anything but. Sorry! ;)
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CHAPTER 20
"Where did you go? What the hell happened, Brennan? I was so worried! Dammit, you need to trust me!"
"Angela
please… listen.
I'm sorry! I'm very sorry!"
"I
don't care! I don't… shit, yes I do but Bren… why didn't
you call me? Why didn't you at least say goodbye? I try and give
you the space you need, I understand why you need it, but God, give
me something to go on…! I feel alone in this friendship, Brennan.
All alone."
A single tear slid down my face and fell on the pillow.
"Angela… come over to my house."
"What?"
"Come over. I'll listen. I'll hear everything and I'll help. Come. Now. It's kind of early I suppose…" I took a deep breath. It would be painful, but "I'll be a bit late for work. It won't kill either of us. Come and we'll talk."
There was a rush of static as she sighed.
"Okay. Thank you, Brennan. But you'll have to talk too."
"I know."
"See you now."
"Bye."
I hung up and got up off the bed. For a moment I stood there in my favourite shirt, and didn't know what to do or how to move. What… how did one walk? I'd forgot. And breathing… that was tougher than it seemed. Every delicious bruise in my body was there because of Booth, and I couldn't remember how to stand.
I fell back on my bed and hugged my body, smelling Booth in everything, everywhere, around me, in me, over me… and I remembered his look when he asked where I got the shirt.
A memory invaded my mind. After a particularly tiring case he'd driven me home and I'd insisted he come upstairs. Not just because it was harder every day to say goodbye to him, but because his eyes kept closing dangerously as he drove, and I didn't want him to have an accident. So I made him stay and sleep (it wasn't the first time, anyway). He was sprawled on the couch and I woke up to see his large frame illuminated by the morning light, and even in his sleep he made me smile.
He drove me to work that morning too, and his shirt stayed behind because I leant him one of Russ's. And I forgot it was even there, I forgot it was even his until one day I wore it to sleep and I slept.
So now I knew why he'd acted so strangely when he saw me wearing it. The shirt was Booth's.
I didn't take it off as I began to cry.
*
She'd been crying too. The sight of her sad face only strengthened my resolve to fix this. Because this was something that I could do, instead of ruining it. Ever since last night I felt off-guard, as if my world had suddenly tilted to the side: everything seemed different, and nothing made sense. And I was defying gravity.
Well, this I would make sense of. More than that… I would make this right.
Her first words were of me, not her.
"You look special."
Angela saw things. She had the ability to discern and untangle feelings and thoughts like I solved equations and puzzles. Angela, like Booth, went beyond images. Her mind didn't simply process the colours and interpret the shapes. She saw more.
"What does that mean?" I asked as I closed the door behind her. She shrugged off her coat and walked toward the couch heavily, tiredly.
"It means that when you tell me what's been happening these past few days, I'll have one hell on an 'I told you so' moment. It's a pity I haven't invented a special dance move yet."
"Huh?"
She grinned. "I'll explain about 'I told you so' dances another time, Bren, okay?"
"Sure."
For a few moments a friendly silence settled over the apartment. Then I decided to take control. I walked over, sat down next to Angela and took her hand. "I'm listening now, Angela"
She nodded, and began to talk.
Hodings.
I
hadn't expected this. Maybe it had been my lack of perception when
it came to observing other people interact, but both Angela and
Hodgins had seemed fine after their abrupt end. I hadn't realised
that three years is a long time… and two of those as a couple? The
end was bound to be something you didn't forget in a day.
Apparently, not something you forgot in months either.
I held her
when she cried and tried to be as supportive and consoling as I
could, without thinking of my own problems even for a moment. The
only stray thought went to the time, something I couldn't stop my
over-analysing brain from doing, because Anne Stoker didn't have
any, and I was late for work for the first time in… too long.
When it was over Angela wiped the last tears from her face and smiled. "Thank you, Temperance." She said with feeling. I nodded, smiling back, and stood to leave. Twenty minutes late if we left now and I didn't eat breakfast.
"Wait. Bren, what about… you? What happened yesterday?"
I couldn't help myself. "Booth. Booth happened."
When she didn't say anything, I let the words escape.
"We had sex."
To my surprise Angela nodded gravely. "Okay. We'll talk about this when you're ready. Thank you for telling me, Bren. Let's go to work."
I almost began to cry in relief that she let me have this day, and grabbed a nutritious cereal bar to eat on my way to the car.
*
"This is a historical day!" Hodgins exclaimed, managing a grin. "Dr Brennan is late for work! Twenty-two minutes late! I should write this down, I should take a picture, I should…!"
"Shut up, Hodgins." Angela said, rolling her eyes and smiling. I smiled too and donned my other lab coat. The first was still at home, being washed.
"Let's get to work then, shall we? Where is Dr Saroyan?"
"Over here, Dr Brennan!" Cam called from the platform. Jeanie Whitmore's remains were on the observation table. As I walked up the stairs and stood next to her she said quietly: "Listen, about yesterday… I'm sorry if it made you feel uncomfortable, coming to that fundraiser. But it was important, I hope you understand… these things are part of my job too. Keeping the bosses and their friends happy, and I don't like it either. So you don't have to worry about leaving so early, okay? I told them you had called me saying you felt too sick to stay."
"Thank you." Cam was the last person I'd expected to be on my side, and knowing she was brought more calm to my agitated mind.
We worked comfortably for an hour, determining the exact force of the blow, which in turn told us the weight of the attacker. It was slightly over Kevin Stoker's weight, but still possibly his. Cam insisted on comparing it to Frank Bram's, and he fit within the possibilities as well. I even found a new micro-fracture to Jeanie's kneecap, possibly sustained when she was tripped and fell, adding validity and evidence to the scenario Angela and I had posited.
I was typing this latest fact into my notes inside my office when my phone rang.
"Forgot to check again, didn't you?"
I hadn't expected just his voice to bring it all back. Seeing him, yes. But just his voice…? Apparently it was enough. I stood up from my chair and paced around the room, feeling trapped.
"No I didn't, actually." Even though it was useless, I tried.
"You don't know how to lie, Bones. I'll teach you someday."
"What's the matter, Booth?"
"Does something have to be 'the matter' for me to call you?"
There was a pause as I considered this. "I don't think you would have called me otherwise." I admitted.
"You're wrong then."
After a few seconds, he reluctantly added. "But something has happened."
I grinned. "Ha! I knew this."
There was a chuckle from the other end of the line. "Got me there, Bones."
"If you were here I'd…"
"You'd what?" the curiosity in his voice was strange, unhealthy. Too eager. "You'd what, Bones?"
"Nothing. It was silly of me to say. What's happened?"
"Agent Keller, the one handling Kevin Stoker's escape from prison… he just gave me his report."
"So we know what happened?"
Someone tapped my shoulder and I turned impatiently. Booth spoke into his phone right in front of me: "I'll tell you everything when I see you."
We both hung up at the same time without looking away.
"Hey."
"Hi."
I blinked and for the instant during which my eyes were closed, the image of his soaking chest and me licking his earlobe flashed behind my eyelids.
"So how did he do it?" I asked, clearing my throat.
"He didn't."
"What?"
"Stoker didn't escape, it's impossible. The security cameras were fully functioning the entire time, and no one saw him leave his cell. His cell mate is a suspect for murder, and they're going to search the premises right now."
"What? But he called Mrs Stoker five days ago from a disposable cell phone… he had to escape!"
"Mrs Stoker lied, then."
"But who… all those murders, the women… Anne Stoker…"
"Someone else had to do that."
I sat down on the couch, my mind reeling. All our assumptions had been wrong… unless Kevin Stoker had found a way to fool the prison's inhabitants and it's security system. Unlikely.
Who was left? What was left? All the scenarios we'd prepared… all that work in trying to understand what was happening… Frank Bram? Was he responsible, like we'd first thought?
"Bones, I came here because Keller said that we could come along, see if they found anything when they search the prison."
"Sure. I'll get my things." I unbuttoned my lab-coat in a trance-like state, still thinking furiously.
"I told him it was pointless to tell you not to come, that a woman like you inside a prison would cause a riot."
"Did he disagree?"
"Yeah. He told me to tie you to a chair if I had to."
"Will you?"
"Tie you to a chair? Nah, you'd break free, I'm pretty sure. And I've only got one pair of cuffs on me now. To waste them like that... actually doesn't seem like such a bad idea."
I laughed, and he smiled his most charming smile. He seemed comfortable with suggesting that the image of me cuffed to a chair was sexually alluring. What a curious change in attitude. What a strange new form of emotional torture. How weird that it didn't feel like torture at all, and instead I was giddy and couldn't help but smile back.
"So I can come?"
"I told him it was pointless to tell you that I'm going to be by your side every single step, because if one of the convicts so much as looks at you I swear I'll shoot him." He said sternly.
I rolled my eyes.
"Booth, I can take care of myself."
"Sure you can. But everyone's telling me I'm crazy to let you come, and I agree."
"Why did you tell me, then? Why did you come here at all?" I asked.
"Because I couldn't resist." He murmured.
"Couldn't resist what?"
"Never mind. I came because I knew you had a right to come. Screw the risks. Together we're invincible."
I smiled sadly, thinking of yesterday and of how every time I blinked, more images flashed at me: gleaming bodies, cold rain, white marble steps, the look on his face...
"Invincible." I echoed. But the moment was beginning to feel too solemn. "Can I drive to the prison?"
"No. You don't know the way!"
"GPS could tell me how to get there…"
"Not happening, Bones…"
Comfortably arguing once more, we left my office. Thank goodness we took the elevator the parking lot of the Jeffersonian and didn't leave by the front steps.
As Booth drove, my thoughts went back to the case. To Anne. I clung to the hope that we didn't know for sure that Mr Stoker was dead. He might have found a way to escape. He was smart, right? Maybe Agent Keller was wrong. We didn't know Mr Stoker hadn't bribed a guard. We didn't know that the case had just fallen apart.
We didn't know anything anymore.
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Okay, so you might have to wait a little for the fluff. But it will present itself when you least expect it, I promise. The case is also important, you know! Everyone seems keen to comment on the Booth/Brennan aspect, but… are you interested in the case as well? ;) Because the ending is going to be explosive!
*Bites review-addict nails in hopes of another dose*
