A/N: Wow, you guys! Thirty-four alerts, seven reviews, five favorites, and one community nod all in the first twelve hours! I am overwhelmed. As payment, I present to you a second chapter!
Redux
Chapter 2 – Surprise Appearances
"I can't believe," Jack said as he waited for Angela to unlock the door to their apartment, "that I'd ever admit a movie was better when dubbed into French."
"And not just any movie," his wife pointed out, opening the door and flipping on the light.
"Die Hard!" Jack agreed, following her in with his hands on her hips. "One of the most American movies ever made, and it was better in French!"
Angela laughed, dropping her keys and purse on the table. "I'm just glad Bruce Willis had his shirt off the whole time."
"Hey!" Jack replied, reaching back to close the door behind him.
"Oh, relax, sweetie," she grinned, grabbing at the top button of his dress shirt. "You're just as hot as nineteen-eighties Bruce."
"Think so, do you?" he murmured, kissing her and pulling her hips closer. If there was anything he loved about Paris, it was how much Angela loved Paris. And Paris loved them right …
"Agh!" he yelped – not screamed, yelped – startled by the face appearing out of the dark hallway beyond the living room.
"What?" Angela cried, turning around and jumping out of her skin with a tiny shriek when she saw the figure. "Zack?" she asked, her voice strangled and high. "Is that you?"
Stepping further into the light, both lovers saw that it was Zack Addy, standing in their living room, looking chagrined, his gloved hands clutched at his sides. "Hello," he said simply, like he'd just dropped by for a visit and hadn't shown up completely unexpectedly.
"Zack, buddy!" Hodgins cried, stepping closer and shooting a worried glance back at his wife. "It's so good to see you!"
"Aren't you going to ask me why I'm here?" he asked, giving Jack a little smile, the one that said he wanted to smile, but couldn't quite make himself commit to it.
"Yeeaah," Jack nodded forcefully. "Yeah, what's going on? Why the impromptu trip to Paris?"
"Everyone left," Zack pointed out. "I needed to tell you something, but everyone left and there was no one to tell it to."
"Oh, my God, sweetie!" Angela sighed. "I'm so sorry. We forgot to tell you!"
Zack shrugged, his eyes concentrating on the empty dining room table. "It's fine. I know where everyone is now."
"Which leaves the question," Jack said, gently touching his friend's elbow, "why couldn't you just call, Zack?"
"I'm not very good with words," he confessed, pulling his notebook from a bag slung across his chest. "I'm even worse on the telephone without the facial expression clues I've learned to rely on. And," he opened the notebook to a specific page, handing it to Hodgins, "I wanted to show you this."
"What is it?" Jack asked, taking the book and holding it so Angela, standing next to him, could read it too. "A list of names, dates, and locations? What is this, Zack?"
Meeting Hodgins' eyes and making the man uneasy with the force of his stare, Zack replied, "Unsolved murders. Dozens of them. And no one else saw the pattern."
Please," Lance said, leaning heavily on the counter in front of him. "I've been awake for almost seventy-two hours. I just need help getting in touch with the archeological dig on the Maluku Islands."
"If this woman," the clerk at the embassy counter pointed at the picture Sweets had given her, "wanted you to contact her, why wouldn't she give you this information herself?"
"Well," he admitted with a sigh. "We sort of broke up, but I'm here to surprise her and apologize!"
The woman peered at Lance skeptically over her reading glasses. "You broke up?"
"It's not what it sounds like. She had to come here for her job, and I thought I could break things off between us, you know? Because I didn't think I could follow her. But I can! I'm Mr. Adventure!"
"Uh-huh," the woman muttered, like she had no idea what he was talking about.
"Please?" he tried again. "For love?"
Rolling her eyes and sighing, she picked up her phone and punched a button, saying, "Let me see what I can do..."
"Yes!" Lance cried, pulling his fists toward his body in a gesture of victory. "Thank you, Helen! Thank you!"
Two days later, Brennan looked up from her work under one of the canopies and watched a man who resembled Dr. Sweets run through the entrance of her camp, searching the faces around him desperately. "Daisy!" he bellowed, getting everyone's attention as he dropped his bags in a haphazard pile on the muddy ground. "Daisy Wick! Where are you?"
"Dr. Sweets!" Brennan called in surprise; it wasn't a man who looked like her therapist. It actually was him. She approached the man carefully, saying, "I thought you were to stay in the U.S. during this expedition. It's almost the only thing Ms. Wick has spoken about."
"I was!" Sweets cried and grabbed Bones' arm, a bright smile on his face. "But then I realized I just had to come! I couldn't give up on the love of my life because the circumstances were difficult."
"Lancelot!" Ms. Wick cried from one of the tents near the back of the camp, her voice so high-pitched that Brennan was surprised she could hear it, not possessing aural acuity akin to a canine's. "What are you doing here?"
"I was so stupid, Daisy!" he insisted, stooping to grasp the intern around her torso, picking her up and spinning both of them around several times. "I knew it as soon as your plane took off, and I've spent every waking moment since then trying to get to you."
"What are you saying?" Daisy asked, laughing as Sweets returned her to her feet.
"I'm saying let's get married! I don't care if it's here, or if it has to be a year or two from now! I can't live without you!"
"Lance?" Daisy smiled. "What about your job? Your career? Your dreams?"
Yes, exactly. That was the question Brennan had been waiting for. It had been perfectly reasonable, even admirable, for Sweets to stay in Washington where his career would thrive. FBI psychologists were not exactly in demand in a remote location such as this. How would he justify committing what amounted to career suicide?
"It's not as important as you are, Daisy!" Sweets insisted. "I would give up ten years of my career to be with you. You're the dream."
"Aww!" Ms. Wick squealed, kissing her fiancée soundly. "I'm so happy you're here!"
"Yes," Brennan broke in, feeling she had to say something before their public displays of affection became even more graphic. "It's very nice to see you Dr. Sweets. I'm sure your presence here won't be distracting at all."
"I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan," Sweets replied with a chuckle and a grin that said he was anything but sorry. "Don't worry. I'm still going to consult for the FBI on a case-by-case basis."
Daisy made a disappointed noise and pouted, "You're going back to the States?"
"No!" he exclaimed, still grinning as he pulled a silver case from among all the luggage he'd brought. Bones recognized it as similar to one of hers. "I've got a satellite transmitter for my laptop. As long as I've got some electricity and a good signal, I can talk to whoever I need to. Watch interrogations, observe patients, counsel agents, everything!"
"I see," Bones nodded, pleased that her educated guess about the contents of Sweets' case were correct. As she noticed the wide grins on his and Daisy's faces, somehow, she couldn't help but be infected by their enthusiasm. "Congratulations," she smiled, waving over some workers to help Sweets with his luggage. "I'll try to make sure you're welcomed here."
"Thanks, Dr. Brennan!" Sweets replied, excitedly grabbing up his share of the load. "I owe you big time!"
Daisy smiled at Bones too, before leading the way toward her quarters, and Bones missed Booth's voice in her ear, telling her she'd done a good thing.
No! She wasn't supposed to miss her life in Washington. It would still be there when she got back, even if things weren't starting out as expected. If Sweets could turn his life upside-down in the span of a week, how much more would change during a year? Bones couldn't count on anything, could she? Not even the person she wanted most to be there when she got back, because he had gone to one of the most dangerous places on Earth.
Because of her.
Unable to concentrate on extracting the remains she'd been working on, Bones told her assistant, "I need a break, Mr. Adams. I'll be back in thirty minutes."
"Of course, Dr. Brennan," the grad student replied, smiling up at her. "Yvette and I will still be here when you get back."
Huffing in annoyance, Bones told the man, "I don't like it when you name the remains, Mr. Adams. We must be as objective as possible when investigating such an important find."
"Right," the man nodded, looking down sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I forgot. It's all 'specimen 589' from here on out."
"Thank you," Bones replied, wishing she hadn't been so harsh with him. Well, Booth and Cam had taught her about conciliatory gestures, so Bones gave it a try. "Nice work cleaning and extracting the left tibia. You have excellent precision."
"Thanks, Dr. Brennan!" Adams called as she left the site.
Needing to get away from the others for a moment, Bones paced over to her cabin, which doubled as her office. It was more of a platform tent than a cabin, but it had a bed, rudimentary running water, and a desk. A single light bulb hung from the aluminum pole rafter, and an extension cord hung down next to that. It was good enough to plug in her own silver case, connecting via its miniature satellite dish to her resources at the Jeffersonian.
One of which was e-mail.
She knew it was stupid. She knew Booth wasn't expecting her to contact him at all during this year. Why else would he specify a time and place to meet so far in advance? But, it couldn't hurt, right? He might not even check his FBI email for months, if at all while he was away in Afghanistan. But Bones thought, he might want to know.
Booth, she began.
I don't know when you'll receive this missive, but something interesting happened today, and I thought you'd like to hear it. Just one week into our dig, Dr. Sweets arrived. He is planning to spend the rest of this year with Ms. Wick here in Indonesia. I found his presence here unexpected, to say the least.
I am relieved that he has not completely given up on his career, as he will still be consulting for the FBI by satellite. Though for the most part, he appears to be here because he "cannot live" without Ms. Wick, as if she were a basic nutrient, like caloric intake, or oxygen.
I thought you might appreciate the comparison he made between romantic attachment and these basic life-giving molecules. I thought you might also appreciate the fact that I will pull several strings (metaphorically of course) to assure that Dr. Sweets is allowed to stay.
I find his actions very brave. He came to this foreign country unaware of where we were or if he would be welcomed. It must be either bravery or stupidity, and sometimes I have trouble telling the difference.
I miss your help telling the difference.
Sincerely,
She started to write, Bones, but then deleted it. They weren't partners right now. Did that mean she couldn't keep using the nickname Booth had given her? She began writing, Temperance Brennan, but that was even worse.
Finally she signed it, Bones, and hit send.
It was late afternoon, almost time to go home for dinner, when Cam's cell phone rang. She picked it up without checking the caller ID, since she was busy proofreading her résumé before sending it to one of her friends in the Justice Department. Justin knew of an open Medical Examiner position in Chicago that seemed promising. There, she would lead the entire department, earn a nice pay bump, and really make a name for herself, aside from Brennan. Michelle wouldn't be happy about having to move for her senior year, but tough. Maybe it was time for her to see a different city, a different part of the country. Maybe it was time to get her away from that boyfriend of hers.
"Saroyan," she answered the phone, furrowing her brow at a particularly nasty typo. There's no way she had meant to write that!
"Cam!"
"Angela!" the coroner cried, pulling away from her computer screen at the surprise. "How's Paris? Eat any croissants for me?"
"I've eaten enough for the both of us," she laughed, and Cam noticed that the artist's voice was a little nervous. "My ass is gonna be so big by the time we get back…"
Cam chuckled, but had to ask, "What's wrong? Ange?"
"Um, well," the woman stalled.
"Is everyone okay? Is Hodgins okay?"
"No!" she cried. "I mean, he's fine. Nothing's wrong, per se…"
Cam nodded to herself and leaned back in her chair. "So this is purely a social call?"
"Um," Angela said, and then the sounds coming over the phone devolved into murmurings and scraping sounds.
"Hey, Cam!"
"Hodgins," Saroyan said in her no-nonsense tone. "What's going on?"
"You'll never guess," the entomologist cried, his mood a lot better than Angela's had been, "who we ran into in Paris! In the middle of the night! In our house!"
"Um," Cam closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm guessing not the Pink Panther."
"Oooh," Hodgins crowed. "Close but no cigar, Dr. Saroyan."
"Who?"
"Our good old buddy, Zack!"
Cam gasped. She full-out, standing up suddenly, hand to her mouth, eyes wide, gasped. "How?" Swallowing and shoving her eyes closed again. "I mean, when? No! I mean how?"
"Apparently he heard everyone was out of town and decided to bust outta the joint yesterday. He says he 'forgot' to call you."
"Damn straight, he forgot!" Cam cried. "Why would he leave? Why now?"
"He found a pattern in the last three years of newspaper articles," Hodgins said, apparently ignoring someone talking to him in the background. "I'm not sure of the details, and I'm not sure he is either, but he says it's a serial killer at work, and he can predict where his current burial site is."
"And we're sure the killer isn't–"
Cutting her off, Hodgins insisted, "We're sure. Zack just wants us to help. He wants me and Angela to use our expertise to help him find the site. I thought I'd call and run this past you before it goes any further."
"You're on a leave of absence, Hodgins," Cam pointed out. "You don't need me dictating your schedule anymore."
"We do if we're going to use Jeffersonian resources," Hodgins pointed out, and Cam could almost see the charming smile he only pulled out when he was trying to get something from her.
Dr. Saroyan sighed, letting her face fall into her free hand and thought about it.
"Cam?"
"I'm thinking," she snapped back. "Give me a few seconds."
"'kaaayy."
After a few breaths of 'oh my god' and 'aiding and abetting a fugitive' and 'Zack's never wrong' Cam asked, "Where does he think the burial site is?"
"Toronto."
"Jack!" Saroyan cried. "We can't just go digging around in a foreign country because Zack sees a pattern!"
"I know that," Hodgins replied, his voice implying he was annoyed Cam could think otherwise of him. "I was just hoping you could get a hold of Sweets, so we can get Zack back where he belongs before too much time has passed. I keep calling, but he's not answering his phone."
"It's probably," Cam sighed, "because he's in Indonesia, chasing Daisy."
"He–" Hodgins chuckled. "He actually went through with it?"
"As far as I know."
"Damn."
Making a decision, Cam said, "I'll try to contact Dr. Brennan. She assured me she would have access to email at least some of the time every day. Maybe he found them at the site."
"Yeah," Hodgins agreed. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."
"Give me your number there in Paris?" she asked, jotting it down when Hodgins spouted off a string of number. "I gotta tell you, Hodgins. I don't know how we could ever go tromping around outside Toronto looking for these bodies. I mean, if the authorities found them first, maybe we could offer our services. But without Brennan…"
"Yeah," Jack agreed sadly. "And without Booth to talk to the Mounties for us … Just, let me know when you hear back from Brennan. We're flying back to Washington tomorrow."
"Oh!" Cam cried. "But your vacation?"
"Hey, Paris will still be here in a few weeks. We'll be fine once we get Zack back to the hospital. Hopefully before they send the bounty hunters after him."
"I'll try to get to Sweets, or maybe Gordon Wyatt. Someone official to bring him in gently."
"Thanks, Cam," Hodgins sighed. "We'll see you tomorrow, probably?"
"Tomorrow," Cam agreed, hanging up and hitting 'save' on her résumé and closing the program. There were bigger issues to deal with at the moment.
It had already been a long few days by the time Booth made it to Kuwait, travel-weary and ready to sleep for about a week. Too bad his next transport left in the morning. All he wanted to do was fall into a bunk, preferably one that was horizontal, but he had promised to call Parker. It was the last time he'd have access to reliable communication for at least a few weeks, and he had to speak to his son at least once before then.
Sighing, Booth signed up for a phone and waited his turn patiently. There were a few computers for general use, so he figured, "What the hell," and decided to check his mail. He'd been worrying the whole trip that he'd forgotten something, some loose end at the Bureau. Checking now might give him some peace of mind.
As if something like that could be had out here in the desert.
"Shit," Booth whispered to himself, rubbing his eyes and wondering how the hell he could manage to sound enthusiastic for his son. No talk about how this might have been a mistake, no talk about how there were other people, better people, younger people who could do this job. No talk about the partner he used to have.
Oh, and speaking of … Bones sent him something? Probably pictures of how happy she was at the dig. Pictures of her and Daisy Wick making the world a better place one ancient skeleton at a time. Pictures of her moving on without him.
But as he read, Booth realized that there were no happy pictures. There weren't even many happy words. Only an almost overwhelming sense of loss. Booth knew not to read too much into her words. Without seeing her face, it was impossible to know what she meant by sending him this. Without hearing her voice, he'd never know if there was another meaning underneath her words. He'd never know if she was telling him she wanted to be brave, like Sweets.
Or if Bones wanted Booth to be the brave one.
Again.
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Thanks so much for reading!
