In the Blink of An Eye

By LizD

Winter 2011

Chapter 11

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

At half past one Booth was leaving George Kirkland's office. The interview had been fruitless, but he expected that, but there was something about the guy that just seemed too nervous. He would keep an eye on him.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Kirkland," Booth said sarcastically. "If you think of anything that might help the investigation -."

"I will contact you immediately." Kirkland held out his hand for Booth to shake.

Booth had not interest in being friendly with that guy, but brought his hand up to shake.

The moment their hands touched, the split second skin touched skin; Booth blinked.

KA-BOOOOOM!

There was a huge explosion that came from the direction of the parking lot. The men were blown off balance. Booth eyes went wide.

BONES!

Brennan had left the Kirkland interview to meet the FBI crime scene techs that were there to pick up and process Lacey Carroll's Prius.

Reactively Booth pulled cuffs out of his pocket, slapped them on Kirkland and attached him to an exposed pipe in the office. He never said a word. He didn't have to. It was written all over Kirkland's face: fear, guilt, remorse, terror. Booth would deal with him later. He set off running toward the parking lot.

The scene was utter chaos; people screaming and running everywhere. People were just coming back from lunch break so there were a lot more of them in the parking lot than usual. Booth scanned the scene quickly looking for Brennan. She was not there. The FBI Crime Scene truck had been blown over. The flat bed that was to remove the Prius had been caught in the explosion. Booth could see that they had already started pulling the Prius up. The car was completely destroyed and still burning. Shrapnel from the car had spewed the lot. Booth ran toward the remains of the car. One of the FBI techs, the one that had been working the winch was blown back into the windshield of a car across the lot. He was charred and not moving. There were two other men in FBI windbreakers helping each other up. Booth ran to them.

"Where's Bones?"

"What?" They were disoriented and their hearing had not returned. Probably wouldn't, would be hearing ringing for days.

"Dr. Brennan ... Where is Dr. Brennan?" he shouted over the din, over their deafness.

They shook their heads. Booth heard sirens approaching. He was becoming frantic. Where could she be?

Out of sheet desperation he looked inside the Prius. There was a body in the driver's seat - correction, the charred remains of a body were in the driver's seat. Panic washed over him. He couldn't let his mind go there. He couldn't believe that it could be Brennan - not Brennan too. He couldn't think. He was paralyzed. Normally in these situations he would call Brennan. She could tell right away if those remains were male or female, approximate age, anything to eliminate her as a possibility. But someone would get bad news that day. Someone would get news that a person they loved and relied on, someone they were building a future with would not be coming home. And in the blink of an eye, their whole world would change.

The emergency vehicles pulled up. The EMTs set to work. Booth stood amidst the wreckage scanning but not really seeing what was happening around him. His mind was spinning so fast he didn't see what was right in front of him. Who was right in front of him.

"Booth!" she shouted again.

His eyes focused on her face. There were several cuts and abrasions on one side of her still beautiful face. He reached out to touch her. She was real. Brennan was standing in front of him; alive and apparently well enough to walk and talk. He lips spread into a unbelieving smile. He put his hands on her shoulders.

"Are you OK?" he asked desperately.

"Yes," she nodded. "I'm OK. Your SUV is not." She half turned (as much as his grip would allow) to nod over to where his SUV had been parked. The driver's side had sustained damage in the explosion. All the windows were broken. "I was in the car, reading through Lacey Carroll's reports." She held up the bag that she had found in the trunk of the Prius under the floor mat. She seemed unaffected by the explosion. She was calm, cool, collected. Typical Brennan. She had seen so much horror in her life, it was no wonder she had learned to compartmentalize.

Booth was overcome with relief. He crushed her to his chest. He tucked her head under his chin and wrapped his arms around her tightly. He closed his eyes to prevent the hot tears that were welling there from rolling down his face. "Thank you, Thank You ... Dear God, thank you." He said just above a whisper.

Brennan was uncomfortable in his embrace. It was too much. Too much from him. He shouldn't be feeling that much emotion for her, about her, with her, to her. He was in love with another woman. He said as much. She had a very specific place in his life and it wasn't in his arms. She wedged her hand between them and gently pressed him back.

He looked down at her. Took her face in his hands and inspected her injuries. "We need to get you to the paramedics."

"I'm fine Booth," she looked away. When he released his hold on her, she lost her balance and nearly fell.

"You are not fine, Bones." He wrapped a protective arm around her and directed her over to the EMTs. They would at least make her sit down for a moment.

More police, fire and other emergency people showed up. They wanted answers. Booth was identified by one of the FBI crime scene techs. He was pulled away from Brennan after ensuring that the medic working on her would take care of her.

For the next few hours Booth was dealing with the whole mess. The FBI director came to the scene; DC metro was there, not to mention the fire chief and anyone else who had interest in what happened. Kirkland was taken into custody on some very thin grounds and Booth ordered an investigation into his life demanding to know what color underwear he had been wearing every day for the past ten days. Booth was barking orders and fielding questions. After snapping at some young cop, the director finally pulled Booth aside.

"You need to recuse yourself from this investigation."

"No," Booth was appalled at the idea.

"You are too close, Booth and you are losing your objectivity."

"No, sir." He stood firm.

"Look, I understand that you want to be involved. If the mother of my children was murdered, I would want to get to the bottom of it and make whoever was responsible pay - and I don't even like my ex-wife. But this thing is less than twenty-four hours old. You need to give yourself time to deal with what happened, take care of your son. Let someone else do the leg work for a change. We will bring the bastard in, I promise you that."

"Sir, Kirkland -."

"I have released Kirkland. You don't have enough to hold him. Hell you don't have enough to question him. You are aware that Kirkland is Senator Huff's son, correct?"

"Senator Huff ... the one behind The Bridge project?"

"Circumstantial, Booth. But the rule at the FBI is; you don't go pissing in politician's pools until you have some good hard evidence."

"But Sir -."

"It's not a suggestion, Booth. Go home. Take care of your son. You are off this investigation. If I hear that you are working this thing off the books, I will take your badge and your gun. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Brennan walked into the lab alone. She was still very shaken and not just by the explosion. Angela saw her and ran to help her.

"Sweetie, were you in an accident?" She stopped her friend to survey the injuries. "Sweetie!" she pleaded. "Did you go to the hospital?"

"It was an explosion. The paramedics checked me out. They suggested I should go, but I didn't want to. I'm fine."

"An explosion!" Angela wrapped her arm around Brennan, motioned for everyone else to back off and took her to Brennan's office. She sat her down on the couch and got her some water. "Tell me what's going on, Sweetie."

Brennan took a sip of water with great effort. The explosion had actually thrown her into the dash board and she had snapped her head back on the head rest. It was very jarring. A few ibuprofen and she would be fine.

"Where's Booth? You were with Booth, right?"

"Yes, he was there." Brennan realized that Angela would not back off so she told her everything from discovering that Rebecca was murdered, to calling Cam in and doing a preliminary exam, to Lacey Carroll, to Booth, to opening a case, to the interview with Kirkland, to retrieving Lacey's documents from her car, to the explosion. She was calm, dispassionate; just stating the facts as they were.

Angela saw that she was holding back. That she was barely able to keep it together. She got up and crossed to the door and closed it. She closed the blinds and rejoined her friend. "What else, sweetie?" she asked softly.

Brennan looked into Angela's warm loving accepting eyes and her will to stay detached broke. "I don't think I can do this anymore."

"What this, Bren?"

"Work with him. Be with him. Talk to him. I just ... I can't. I can't."

"What's Booth doing now?" Angela was more than a little annoyed with Booth; had been for months. Bringing home his stray dog like that - how rude?

"He is ... he is ... he is treating me like he used to."

"I don't understand."

"He talks to me. He touches me. He smiles at me. He looks at me ... like he used to ... like before ... before we parted ... before he suggested anything more between us."

"You mean he uses that low husky voice like you are the only two people in the world that can hear it. That he touches you and you feel it jolt through your body like electricity knowing that if he ever lets go you'll die. He smiles at you with that twinkle in his eye like he knows everything about you and loves your soul. You mean he looks at you with those bedroom eyes where you can just feel him touching every inch of your body and you melt."

"Angela, that is hardly helpful." But she was right.

"Just saying ... that eye sex that you have is ... whew ... wowza ... I mean ... get a room."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"You love him. He loves you. Do I really need to tell you what the next step is?"

"He is with Hannah. And even if he weren't with Hannah, he chose her."

"Because you refused him."

Brennan shook her head. "Booth told me that he KNEW."

"Knew what?"

"Knew - from the moment we met ... Booth believes in destiny. He believes - believed that we would somehow be together for years from the moment we met. That was his justification for wanting to take a chance on a sexual relationship with me. He said HE KNEW."

"Ok," Angela didn't see the issue.

"He knew ... then I said no ... then he fell in love with Hannah - so much in love with Hannah that -."

"Sweetie, wait just a minute. You are missing the big YEAR LONG separation."

"We were only apart for seven months. But in that seven months he met, and fell in love with Hannah. Enough to have her quit her job, move to Washington, into his apartment, into his life. He doesn't love me anymore. Do you see what I mean about love being transitory, ephemeral, a manufactured lie to quell the masses?"

"Honey, you are reading this wrong." She took her hand. "First of all, love is not precise. You can't quantify it and you can't prove it. Love is love and it can be empowering and strong or devastating. And this may be really hard for you to understand, but it is possible to love two people - two very different people at the same time. So Booth was not wrong. He may have known that you were - and are - his destiny, but he needed to wait for you to know it too."

"So he is waiting with Hannah?"

"Sweetie, Hannah is transitory, ephemeral. Trust me. Trust Booth. And if he is doing the eye sex with you again ... Hannah is but a memory."

"I don't like love. It hurts too much."

"It hurts now, sweetie. But you will see that it is all worth it. Just hang in there, for a little bit longer."

"How can I claim to love Booth, if I am hoping that he will end a relationship with someone he loves? How is that considered love?"

"It just is, sweetie."

"Stupid." She handed Angela Lacey Carroll's notes. "Please see what you can make of this."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Booth walked into Rebecca's house and smack into Sherry. He was very unhappy that Brennan left the scene without him, but he needed to check on Parker. He would see her later at the lab and compare notes.

"What the hell is going on?" Sherry demanded.

"Where is Parker?"

"Not that you care, but Brent took him to the park. At least he can be a proper father to him."

"Sherry look ... it has been a really long night -."

"I gather that ... out with one of your sluts?"

"I was working."

"Right ... working. Must have been a very important case to take you away from the son you love so much."

"As a matter of fact it was ... it is."

"Look Booth -."

"Rebecca was murdered ... so will you get off my back for fifteen damn minutes so I can figure out who murdered her. Is that really too much to ask?"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

A/N: Thanks for staying with this story. Looks like we have lots of readers or a bunch of re-readers. HA. Thanks for reading and comments are nice.