What He Offered

Chapter 13: Confrontation

The phone rang, causing Bones to jump and drop the page she'd been holding. Despite disapproving of the J. R. subplot, she'd been caught up in the narrative flow, and was irritated to be interrupted at precisely the point that promised to be the most interesting part of the story. She growled in frustration and picked up the phone. The name on the call screen filled her veins with ice.

"Marianne, what's wrong?"

"Not a thing, darling, relax! We're having the most marvelous time. This zoo is absolutely amazing."

"Oh! All right, then… What can I do for you?"

"Well, since you ask, I wonder: could you do me a tiny favor?"

Bones wasn't comfortable committing herself before knowing what would be required of her, but this was her mother-in-law asking, after all. "Of course, Marianne. If I can."

"Oh, you can, sugar! Listen, what I'd really like is to have Seeley and the kids to myself for just a few more hours. Reggie and I want to take them out to dinner after we're done here. Do you suppose you could spare them, sweetheart? We'd bring some take-out back for you, of course, so you wouldn't have to cook."

This was a ploy that Booth had apparently learned at his mother's knee: to frame as a favor to themselves what was really a favor for the other. "Did Booth put you up to this?"

"Seeley? Why, no, hun! He doesn't even know I'm calling. I wanted to get your okay first."

"Marianne… I don't know what to say. Is this really what you want?"

"Tempe, I missed so much time with him, I know I'll never make it all up, but I'll take what I can get. Seeley is all yours, now, I know that, and I couldn't be happier for him, but sometimes a mother just wants to be her boy's number one girl again for a short while. You'll understand someday when Hank brings home the girl he plans to marry."

As Hank was not yet walking on his own, Bones knew that day would be a long time coming. "Well, if you're sure…"

"Thanks, darling, I owe you one. See you soon." Call ended.

Bones set down her phone, and bending from the waist, retrieved the fallen page. Sons and mothers, mothers and son, she thought. Life can be so strange. She found her place, and resumed reading.

A Tale of Twin Booths, cont'd

"Temper? Where?" J. R. shrilled. "Did she see me?"

"No. Hold still. She's walking toward Russ." Vic had stopped further up the midway, leaving Brennan to confront her brother on her own. Tim couldn't make out their greetings, but their body language spoke of wariness and distance. Poor Russ, what a roller coaster night he was having!

"Tim, we have to get out of here!"

"No, J. R. We stand a better chance of going undetected if we make no sudden moves. Deep breath." He inhaled slowly, and, eyes locked on his, she imitated him. "Okay, now, I'll keep watch, and you, get your glasses back on and take that hairband off your head. That's right, shake out those bangs."

"What's happening?" She stepped up closer and studied his face anxiously.

"They're standing a bit apart from each other, talking back and forth. Russ looks like he'd rather be anywhere else. Wait: she has something for him, too small to make out. He's happy, moves closer, takes it. Brennan's talking, shifting from foot to foot. A short exchange, Russ puts his arm out, and…"

"What? What?"

"I… I think I might be hallucinating. Brennan just walked into Russ' arms. They're hugging."

"They're what ?" J. R. spun around, and Tim did nothing to prevent her. She was in no danger of being spotted: Brennan eyes were tightly shut; her entire focus was on Russ.

The same could not be said of Vic, unfortunately. Tim had been so zeroed in on Brennan and Russ that he hadn't noticed his twin approaching. "Hey there, bro!" Vic punched Tim playfully in the shoulder. "What're the chances, right? What brings you out this way? Oh, and, hey," he said, as J. R. shrank away from him and closer to Tim, "Who do we have here, now? Whoa, Tim, you sly bastard! Where've you been hiding this little beauty? The name's…"

"Agent Booth," she said, warily. "Vic Booth."

Vic threw back his head and laughed. "I like the sound of that: very double-oh-seven."

"I… I don't know what that means."

"James Bond? International spy and ladykiller? Shaken, not stirred?" When J. R. continued to look incomprehension at him, he said, almost under his breath, "Where'd you find this one, Tim? In a museum?"

Tim was barely listening. Their cover was blown: extraction was now imperative. "We… ah… can't talk right now, Vic." He took hold of J. R.'s elbow. "Sorry to rush off like this. It's a… a private thing. You understand…"

"Whoa, there! Easy, boy." Vic help up both hands, palms out. "Where'd you leave your manners? You could at least introduce the lady before running off with her."

There seemed no help for it. "This is J. R., Vic. She works at the Jeffersonian."

"Pleased to meet you, J. R." He extended his hand, and, after a moment's hesitation, J. R. put hers into it. "Initials only, eh? Always keep 'em guessing, that it? Okay, I'll bite: what does J. R. stand for?"

"Joyless and Ruthless," said a scathing voice from behind him. Vic turned toward it, and there was Brennan, arms tightly crossed over her chest, her face hard with displeasure. She stalked forward and stopped by his side. "Meet my long-lost baby sister, Vic. And, in company with your twin brother, I see. Tim, sweetie, you are an unending source of surprise, generally unwelcome."

Vic had only just picked his jaw up off the ground. "Your sister?" he repeated. "Your twin sister? I can't believe it!"

"You'd see the resemblance if she wasn't trying so very hard to hide it. Look!" Her hand shot out, her fingers found purchase on the bridge of J. R.'s glasses, and she tore them from her sister's face before anyone could stop her. A gasp escaped J. R. and both brothers; then, J. R.'s hands flew up to cover her face, and she turned into Tim with a sob.

"Temperance!" Vic gaped at her, horrified.

She spun toward him, hissing, "I've told you and told you: don't call me that!"

"Because it doesn't suit you, and you know it!" Tim, cradling J. R. in his arms, had never been angrier with Brennan, or with anyone else, in his life. "There is nothing moderate about you, nothing!" he shouted. "You're out of control, Brennan. You need a keeper!"

Brennan regarded him coldly. "And I suppose you think that's a bundle of joy you're clasping to your manly chest? Well, let me burst your bubble, Tim, sweetie: she's the saddest, mopiest, most miserable little crybaby you're ever likely to meet. And, a friend? A boon companion? A Ruth? Please, don't make me laugh. She was never any of those things for me."

"How could she be, when you never let her? You didn't want a friend, you wanted a tame follower with no mind of her own."

Brennan snorted. "I see she's been pouring her venom in your ear, and you, of course, are only too willing to listen. Let me guess: she didn't tell you she got me kicked out of our first foster home?"

"That is so unfair," J. R. moaned.

"So, you can speak after all. Okay, then, little mouse, defend yourself, if you can. Come out from behind your shining white knight, and face the big, bad dragon on your own."

To her credit, J. R. drew herself up and turned to confront her sister, her face wet with tears. Vic reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, and finding one of passable cleanliness, made to lend it to her, but Brennan slapped his hand away. "Stay out of this. One Booth interfering is bad enough." To J. R., she said, "We're waiting."

"You know very well why you were… placed elsewhere."

"I do, but these gentlemen do not. Explain."

"You blackened my eye, and nearly broke my cheekbone. The swelling didn't go down for a week."

"You didn't!" Vic burst out.

"I did." Brennan did not appear to feel any remorse. "Do you remember why I hit you?"

"Because I couldn't stop crying, even when you warned me what would happen if I didn't."

"And, because you kept insisting, even months after their disappearance, that Mom and Dad loved us too much to leave us forever, that they'd come back for us, that we'd be a family again, we only had to be patient and endure."

"I was trying to comfort you," J. R. cried.

"That's rich! As if you were any consolation. You were to blame for their driving off that day in the first place! If they hadn't needed to buy your presents…" Suddenly, in mid-diatribe, Brennan's jaw went slack, her eyes showed white around the iris and she stared, speechless, at her sister, as if J. R. now was the dragon with Medusa-like power. "Oh… Oh, my…"

"What? What?" Vic looked from one of them to other. "Somebody tell me what the hell is going on here!"

"Brennan just heard herself, that's all," Tim told him.

And then, because Temperance Brennan was the epitome of unpredictable, when she recovered from her momentary paralysis, she rushed to her sister, pulled her into a tight embrace, and did not let go.