No author's note, save to mention that I still don't own any of these people!
Sweets stared at the piece of paper. It had arrived in a sealed envelope, marked TOP SECRET and Eyes Only, held by the Director himself. He hadn't wanted to look at it, didn't want to go back to work any more than the Jeffersonian crew did, after Agent Booth was shot and… and died. He was particularly worried about Dr. Brennan; she had completely withdrawn from them, even to the point of shaking off Angela's arm before stalking out of the hospital without a single sound having passed her lips ever since the doctor had made his somber announcement. She was gone by the time he got outside and he hoped it was only because she had been extremely fortunate in a cab.
But without Agent Booth, he wasn't sure he could arrange to see her. He was FBI, and not contracted anywhere else. He grimaced at the turn his thoughts were taking. Stop suppressing, Lance.
But the real shocker had come in that envelope. It was a short and simple list, the handwriting hauntingly familiar, if a little shakier than usual. Dr. Temperance Brennan. Parker Booth. Rebecca Stinson.
"Dr. Sweets," the Director said firmly, making him wonder if he had missed something. "The people on that list--and no one else--are to be informed that Agent Booth is still alive and working an undercover case. The success of which depends on the world at large believing that he is dead. Tell them immediately, and give them the firmest cautions about letting things slip."
"Yes sir," Sweets said, eyes still locked on Booth's handwriting. When the other man was gone, he sat heavily in his chair. Despite what the Director said, he took some time to absorb it himself. He needed to.
Agent Booth is alive.
He dug about in the top drawer for the ibuprofen he kept there and took one.
Dr. Brennan is listed even above his son.
He looked up the address for Booth's son and his mother.
He didn't list any other family.
He knew where to find Dr. Brennan; if by some weird twist, she wasn't at the Jeffersonian, her address was listed in the FBI database as well.
I hope she didn't take off and leave the country. Her ties to Agent Booth are intense and she is fully capable of running in the first shock.
He carefully put the paper in his pocket, locked his desk, then his office. "I'll be back later," he told his secretary, who nodded sympathetically. All of his other appointments were postponed or cancelled already, so he didn't have to worry about that at least. He didn't want to give his patients anything less than his best, and he was definitely sub-par today.
He drove to the Jeffersonian, only to find the offices surrounding the platform dark despite it being during regular working hours. He backtracked to the guard at the entrance. "Where are--?" he asked, tipping his head towards the empty offices.
"Dr. Saroyan left a message for the Board that none of them were coming in. And that I should not let Dr. Brennan in at all, no matter what, today. But I haven't seen her, either, which is peculiar." The man's face settled into even more mournful lines. "Terrible thing, isn't it? Agent Booth getting shot like that? Don't know what the lab'll be like without him."
"It is," Sweets agreed, almost absently. "I thought I would come by and see how everyone was holding up," he added. "Do you think tomorrow will be all right?"
"Probably. Dr. Saroyan didn't say anything beyond today."
"Thanks." He turned and left, only then noticing the gaps in the parking garage. Some agent you would make. He sat back in the driver's seat, thinking. Best to go see Parker and his mother now, since I have their address already, then come back and get Dr. Brennan's.
That visit went surprisingly well. He had introduced himself to mother and son, showing his own FBI badge and then displaying Booth's list. It was a little startling to see the Agent's eyes so perfectly duplicated in a six-year-old's face, right down to that irritating skepticism. But in the end, Parker had been ecstatic that his Daddy was all right, just on a long "business trip." Rebecca had looked over the list with reddened eyes and raised an eyebrow at seeing Dr. Brennan's name listed first. Sweets was rather pleased with the spur-of-the-moment explanation he had concocted, relying on the fact that Dr. Brennan had been at the shooting, then at the hospital, and seen it all. In fact, she had smiled faintly as she agreed with him that that probably was why.
Back in his own office, he fired up his computer again and looked up Dr. Brennan's address. 415 Elmsworth. Nice part of town.
As he turned everything off, a thought came to him. A brilliant, awful idea. What if she didn't know that Agent Booth was alive?
Stunned at the thought, he sank back in the chair. She's so proud of her compartmentalizing, and both of them keep going on about just being partners. I get so sick of that line sometimes. A blind bat could see through it.
He toyed with the paper he had written her address on. It's a matter of national security, and I've heard him complain that she can't act and doesn't lie well. Hell, I've seen that myself. If she suddenly acts--relieved--it might be noticed. After all, it's pretty well known that they work together. Somebody could be watching her for just this sort of thing.
No argument that the son had to be told, and his mother, since he's a minor. He closed his eyes, fighting the temptation--and lost.
This is a primo chance to truly evaluate her emotional connection to Agent Booth, and his response to her reactions should tell me quite a bit about how he feels. They owe me some observations for my study, and this should give me at least two chapters' worth, if not more. And I won't have to deal with all of their back-and-forth, the teasing, the not-so-subtle mocking. They're far too good at hiding behind it, he thought with annoyance. And since he really is alive, there should be no real harm done.
He nodded decisively and tossed the paper in the trash with the same gesture one might make in throwing dice.
