*smiles gleefully* This has fluff in it!

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CHAPTER 32

"What do you remember? I'm not asking for the exact details, just a general overview!"

"I think it's better that you hear this in the lab, from Hodgins, who can tell you the way you like it, and be more accurate than me."

"Come on Booth, just a few facts."

"No, because then you complain I'm not being scientific enough or specific enough or…"

"Please, Booth?"

I leaned closer to him in the confined space and smiled, hoping it would work. I was never sure of how much I affected Booth's concentration, or even if I could draw his attention toward me by using certain feminine advantages.

"Please?" I breathed, letting my voice drip the way I always wanted to speak when he looked at me with darkness in his eyes.

The car skidded, almost collided with a large white van, then ground to a halt amidst blaring sirens.

"Holy Christ!" he yelled, restarting the engine and driving to park next to the sidewalk.

I sat back and wondered why the smile I wore on my face hadn't blinded the people staring at us angrily. The doubts chasing away in my mind about Booth's feelings for me left, because it didn't matter what he felt as long as he let me have these moments of possibility. Maybe he didn't love me, maybe that was why he hadn't said it back, but during a few hours I could believe that he might, and that was bliss enough for me. I could bear anything after this. Even his rejection, because he let me live with joy for now.

So doubts were replaced by a choking happiness that had nothing to do with the sun shining in the sky or the breeze ruffling my hair…

"Bones…"

"I know." I said, almost laughing but not quite. "I'll never do that again. I'm sorry."
"What? No, that's not what I was going to say."

He was looking at me with both darkness and humour in his eyes. How did he do it?

"I was going to say, Bones, don't ever do that again while I'm driving. There are plenty of times when I'd kill to hear you use that damn sexy voice again-"

I couldn't help myself, although that isn't exactly a precise justification for what I did then.

I kissed him so deep my nerve-endings sparked to life in a very new and exciting way. I'd never kissed him like this before, and he'd never responded like this either. Could saying 'I love you' change anything? It was scientifically impossible that words, which after all were sounds we called phonemes emitted by the vocal…

You know what? I stopped thinking about phonemes after his tongue entwined with mine.

After some undetermined time, we broke apart. Even though we'd needed to stop many times before, it felt easier, even more natural to simply look at one another now. Not just kiss furiously like the world would end. It felt less difficult to separate if I knew I could look at him and smile afterwards.

"When this is all over…" he began, letting his fingers brush my cheek. I nodded, and more gravely put my hand on his and gently pushed it onto the steering wheel.

"But now we should go."

"Yeah."

He kicked the car into gear and we sped toward the Jeffersonian, off to do what we did best.

The centre.

United.

*

We entered the Jeffersonian with matching looks of determination, but for the first time had to pause for the security check. The guard, a man who'd been there for some time but who I deeply disliked, actually asked Booth for ID.

"He's with me. And you've seen him before, I believe."

"Calm down, missy. I'm just obeying the rules."

"But you always let us pass through without so much as looking at my badge… is today the day you've decided to turn your life around?" Booth asked sarcastically. I grinned, and the guard shot Booth a look of disgust.

"Don't be so cocky there, Mr Booth."

"That's Agent Booth." I corrected him with raised eyebrows.

"Whatever." The guard threw the FBI badge back at Booth and my partner caught it in mid-air. I felt ridiculously proud to be standing next to him at that moment.

As we walked into the lad, Booth nudged me.

"What was with him?"

"I don't know, but he's been warned once for drinking during a night shift."

"I hate this place. For a cop, this lab is a nightmare. Your security is terrible."

I rolled my eyes. "We have state of the art equipment, and our security may not be quite as impressive, but it's decent, Booth. Stop criticising this noble institution."

I was attempting to be funny, but he charm-smiled me anyway. "I won't do it again. But I love it when you're so proud of your workplace…"

"Dr Brennan!"

Hodgins was on the platform. He waved me over to him, and I quickly separated from Booth, impatient to know everything.

"Facts, Dr Hodgins. Preliminary first, then detailed."

"Sure, Dr Brennan. Just let me get my notes straight…Is Angela coming?" he asked as he shuffled papers.

"She should be here any minute. Why?"

"Oh nothing, Dr B. No problem. What about Dr Saroyan?"

"She's over there, Dr Hodgins, by Jeanie Whitmore's remains, talking to Booth. Which you could clearly see from your standing point. Enough postponing. Now please, tell me your findings."

"Okay. Here goes." He motioned me toward the monitor displaying a graphic of analysed particulates, with columns for every element indicating quantity and concentration. "We found no hint of women's clothing at the scene, which means either he makes them wear the same clothes every day, or he took them…"

"No deductions yet, Dr Hodgins. Just the facts."

"Yeah, sorry. Okay so no women's clothing, but plenty of hairs. Three women: Anne Stoker, Margaret Stoker and… you. None of his."

I nodded, ignoring the sharp, uncomfortably painful stab of fear the recollection brought.

"They've searched the entire house, and found no murder weapon; none of the knives there match the one used on the victims. The shoes are still being analysed, haven't gotten those particulates yet, fingerprints everywhere: Anne's, Margaret's and yours."

"Bram?"

He shook his head. I couldn't believe it.

"Not a single fingerprint of Bram's?" I repeated, to make myself absolutely clear.

"Was he wearing gloves when you saw him?" Hodgins asked.

"No."
"Then he must have been whenever else he moved inside the house. We found several footprints that match the one in Margaret Stoker's window, so we know it was him who took her, but…"

"No evidence to prove it was his."

"Exactly. Just that he had the same shoes. What kind of killer is so careful?"
"One that hasn't begun making mistakes yet. And I don't mean that in the redundant sense."

"Yeah, I understood."

We were silent for a few seconds. Then my curiosity got the better of me.

"All right, what else Hodgins?"

"I've been working for a day. There are no more clues yet, Dr B. I'm waiting for the sample of soil on the shoes, but that might take another couple of hours. Also, Mr Bram doesn't own any other property than his house, which isn't exactly a mansion."

"I only saw one room."

"Oh. Yeah, sorry Dr Brennan."
"That's okay." I smiled at him to shake off the look of guilt on his face, and suddenly… "Wait. I just… remembered something."

I turned away sharply and walked over to Booth.

"What is it?" he said immediately.

"Bram had alibis. Four of them. Friends saying he was with them. Receipts from the night Margaret Stoker was kidnapped. Then Kevin Stoker died because his cellmate killed him. How did he do that? How did he convince so many people to do what he asked?"

Booth nodded in understanding.

"It's about psychology, Bones. You won't like it."

"Then don't explain it to me. But you are sure it can be done? I mean, it really is possible to influence other people that way? Make them do what you want, even if it's for something evil?"
With the hint of a smile, he nodded.

"Okay. I trust you." I turned away, satisfied.

Cam, who still stood next to Booth, whispered: "Do you think she actually doubted that?" It was soft, and I pretended not to hear, but the meaning of her tone was unclear. I tried not to feel hurt; I'd always felt Cam was a good co-worker, and maybe not a friend but certainly a respected acquaintance. Did she think I was being intentionally unintelligent, or that I really was unintelligent? A prickle of insecurity made me slow my step, and I wondered whether people would laugh at me if they heard me ask what I'd really want to know: How? How does someone become as horribly twisted as the people whose fault it was that I worked with Booth?

"Yes." His voice I'd know anywhere. And somehow, without seeing, I felt him grow serious and look at me as I walked away. Although it was conjecture, of course. He might be looking at Cam, the normal thing to do in a conversation. And yet…

"She feels the dark in human nature, but will never understand it. That's what makes her unique, Cam. The pure, good, passion in her. Can't you see it? That force, like a blue fire behind her eyes…"

And I couldn't hear anymore without walking back to them. Which I really shouldn't do, but I felt like running to him now more than ever.

This was how I understood what it is to love somebody.

In this simple act, I felt it all: the heart, beating in my chest at a rhythm so frantic I though I would go into cardiac arrest from simple Joy. I felt the rush, an indescribable feeling because it didn't belong to a specific organ, the rush flood my brain and cloud my vision as I smiled, smiled a shining smile that was almost a laugh. I felt the fizzing of the blood (improbable, unless there was a high temperature that would undoubtedly kill me), I felt those butterflies in the stomach (unusual, as they don't feed on human tissue, and I would already be dead), I even felt the urge to fly (impossible, because I am a human being).

I finally understood everything in a dizzying millisecond as I walked and he talked about the fire behind my eyes… Booth.

I wasn't a human being as I gave in to the urge to turn and look at him, because I felt like I could fly.

And saw the man with the gun pointed to Booth's back, and ran…

No, flew to him.

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I debated on cutting the chapter earlier. But this cliffie was like a blow-your-mind awesome dosage. It was like… the climax of cliff-hangers.

I will never need to use again because I will always be satisfied with this one.

And if any of that sounded sexual in ANY way, let me assure you it wasn't my intention.

It just came up that way.

Fine, I'm stopping now!