It's Bonesday Eve! Both an Eve and a Day! ;)
I think you'll all find this chapter rather satisfying for one reason or another. Thanks as always to my fantastic beta for proofing and for helping me work out a couple of the more profound scenes.
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Chapter 3
Booth lounged around in Brennan's office that evening, working on some paperwork while he waited for her to finish whatever it was she was doing. She was at her desk, and from what Booth could discern from stolen glances in her direction, she seemed distracted. He wasn't sure what she was looking at, but he didn't want to push her after the day she'd had.
Brennan was aware of Booth's presence on an instinctual level, as always, but her mind was a million miles away. She gazed down at the handful of photographs from her mother's file, examining the smiling faces of her parents and trying her best to understand how these two people she had loved so deeply had been so much more than simply her parents. They'd been bank robbers, fugitives, and her father was a murderer. It didn't seem real.
She picked up the rusted dolphin belt buckle and remembered the first time she'd held it in her hands. She'd added it to her first-day-of-high school ensemble, and though Christine Brennan had been irritated that her daughter had taken it without asking, she'd still told Brennan that it had looked nice on her. Brennan thought back to what Booth had said in the car about the fact that her father had buried it with his wife because of its connection to their daughter, but Brennan also recognized that it had been something her mother had prized, partially because Max had had it made just for her.
Her mind continued to work in circles, past to present and back again, and she had an unexpected flash of something important relating to their current case. Something she should have seen before.
"Booth!" He looked up at her curiously and gave a little sigh of relief to see the light back in her eyes. "Warren Lynch was in on it."
"Where did that come from?" he asked, startled.
"He had his own dolphin… that NC-lots of A's national championship ring?"
"His own dolphin…" he was confused until he noticed the belt buckle in her hands.
"All the rest of his jewelry was removed and placed on the dead man. His ten thousand dollar watch, his ID band from his wife, his two other rings… but not the championship ring."
"That's good, Bones," he praised her. He stood up to walk toward the door, and she mimicked his actions.
"The only reason they wouldn't rip it off his hands is 'cause-"
"'Cause Lynch was calling the shots. And I know exactly who was in on it."
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Though it required a little deception during the interrogation, Rick Turco willingly admitted to helping Lynch place a body in the vehicle and rigging it to burn, with the intent of moving the market. However, the man placed everything else on Lynch, who was physically unable to confirm or deny a word of it.
The next morning, the team gathered around the long table in the lounge at the Jeffersonian and listened to AUSA Supek give a rundown of the situation. Booth insisted that Turco was lying about the extent of his involvement, but Supek was doubtful that anything more could be proven in court. Unfortunately the maximum penalty for the crimes to which he'd confessed was ten years. Everyone sighed in disgust. Ten years in prison for contributing to the deaths of three people was practically offensive.
"It's ten years or nothing," Supek argued. "I can only work with what I'm given, and the forensic work on this was not good enough."
"What?" Brennan sputtered.
"You were fooled by fake dental records; you baked some spam."
"What did you want us to do?" Cam asked in alarm.
"Your job."
Booth voiced his disapproval of the woman's words, but Cam was already taking care of it. The rest of the team watched the exchange with interest.
"No, Ms. Supek, you wanted us to do your job. My people gave you all the evidence you need to fry Turco with any reasonable jury."
"Forensically-"
"We gave you everything you needed to arrest Turco."
"Arrest is not a conviction," the woman countered.
"We gave you enough to reject his plea bargain and indict him on the wrongful death of a senator."
"Indictment is not a conviction."
"You accept that plea bargain, and the investigation stops," Booth interjected.
"Indict him," Brennan encouraged her. "Give us time to give you what you need."
"If you accept this plea bargain, you don't deserve to be a federal prosecutor," Cam challenged. Ms. Supek looked outraged.
"Dr. Saroyan-"
"Yeah, it's scary. The whole country will be watching the trial, and you don't want to go in with less than a sure thing. But you put my people on the stand as expert witnesses, and that's a sure thing."
"Not Zack," the remaining three squints contradicted unanimously.
"You tell people the story of what happened using the evidence these people provided, and if you have any ability as a prosecutor, you'll win the case."
"Are you finished?" Ms. Supek replied acerbically.
"No, Ms. Supek. In the future, when you have problems with my team, you register them with me in private-not by grandstanding in a public forum." The women stared each other down for a moment, and Ms. Supek rose silently from the table and left the lounge. Cam followed her.
"Okay, I um...sort of see why she got the job," Brennan said quietly. Booth smiled at her from across the table and gave her a 'let's get out of here' tilt of his head. She grinned back and followed him down the stairs to her office, collected her things, and held his hand as they walked through the glass doors.
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Brennan felt foolish, but she had agreed to try talking to her mother as Booth had suggested. She was glad he'd stepped away, even though she knew he could hear her words. They would've been more difficult to articulate if he'd been standing right next to her.
"Mom, it's me...Temperance. ...I have questions, but you can't answer them. No offense, but I don't think there's anything here but your bones, so…" She shook her head in frustration with herself, muttering, "can't believe I'm doing this…" She drew a steadying breath before continuing. "Is Dad a good man or...a bad man? He killed someone. For me… And he had someone murdered for you. What's the truth? Do I… Do I keep looking, or do I let it go like he asked? Who's he protecting? Himself? Or me and Russ?"
Brennan fell silent, waiting for the clarity Booth had promised, but all she felt was grief.
"Booth? I asked the questions, and guess what? ...No answer," she told him sadly.
"Well, maybe if you weren't standing right on top of her, took a step to the left there, babe." He came back to stand beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Sometimes it takes a while to get an answer, okay? Just leave the flowers."
Brennan sighed and knelt down to place the bouquet he'd insisted on bringing at the base of the headstone.
"I get answers from a lab; you get them from people. Nobody gets answers from a slab of stone," she said dispassionately.
"Yeah, well I see an answer in the stone. You buried your mother as Christine Brennan, the woman you knew as your mother, and not by her real name, Ruth Keenan. That tells me who you are."
Brennan didn't quite follow his meaning, but she was only half-listening. She'd spotted a small piece of silver in the grass in front of the headstone. Instinctively, she reached into the pocket of her jacket for an evidence bag and a pair of the latex gloves she always carried with her. Brennan carefully picked up the object and studied it. A dolphin. It was tiny, perhaps the size of a penny.
"What have you got?"
"A dolphin," she answered, intrigued. Booth watched her slip it into the small evidence bag. "What does that tell you?"
"What does it tell you?" he countered.
"My father was here." It was the most logical conclusion.
"Because he loves your mother, grieves her loss, and he came here to talk to her," he replied. Booth took the evidence bag from her hands and removed the dolphin carefully.
"You're tainting evidence," she argued weakly.
"It's not that kind of evidence, Bones. It's evidence of something else. Something that can't be tainted."
Love, she thought as he put the dolphin in her hand. She held it up, continuing to examine it, and she smiled a little.
"It's beautiful," she remarked. Booth nodded, but he was looking at her.
"Yeah."
They walked back to the SUV in pensive silence, and she held his hand gratefully. Brennan continued to look at the small dolphin as he drove them home, and her mind worked slowly backward to the question she'd been too distracted to ask earlier.
"You said that the name I chose for my mother's headstone indicated something about myself. What did you mean by that?"
Booth glanced at her with a crooked smile and tried to keep his reply simple.
"It tells me that you loved your mother, the woman you knew-Christine Brennan. By holding on to that memory, you're holding on to what was real, and her identity as a loving mother was far more real and important than anything she may have done as Ruth Keenan. It tells me that you know who you are no matter what name you were given at birth."
Brennan considered his words briefly, wondering where that left her in regards to Max.
"And my father? Who is he?"
"You'll figure that out, Bones. At the very least, he's a guy who loves and values his family, even if that means making tough decisions sometimes," he said hesitantly.
"Tough decisions like whether or not to take someone's life? Or whether or not to leave his kids on their own for nearly fifteen years without so much as a phone call?" Her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears, and he sighed, squeezing her hand reassuringly.
"That's only part of the story, Bones. We'll get the rest; it's just going to take some time."
Brennan sighed, then nodded in agreement. She knew he was right. Though it was driving her crazy not to understand something, she trusted that Booth would help her. He'd help find her father, and he'd help her sort through her ambivalent feelings.
With that comforting thought, she gave him a weary smile and squeezed his hand back.
"Thank you, Booth." His answering smile was tender and warm.
"Anytime."
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The following day, Brennan worked up the nerve to call Russ with the news of McVicar's death and the cryptic information they'd gotten from his killer. Her brother was shocked by the revelation, at least initially, but he quickly reiterated his previous logic. If someone had killed Amy, Russ would want her murderer dead too.
Brennan understood this line of reasoning perfectly well. She had no doubt that Booth abided by the same logic, and she had to admit at least to herself that there was nothing she wouldn't do for him either. Even armed with that comprehension, however, Brennan struggled with her brother's willing acceptance of their father's actions.
It was nearly a week before they got another case, but Booth still made regular appearances at the lab. He was still driving Brennan to and from work, and most days he insisted on walking her into the building. He also showed up at mealtimes, either with an armful of takeout bags or to coax her into leaving with him.
Several days after they finished the Warren Lynch case, Booth showed up with numerous boxes of Thai food and spread them evenly over her coffee table. They bickered playfully over the lack of extra mee krob, and she attempted to coax him into trying some of her green papaya salad.
"Bones, I will gladly ply you with all the rabbit food you want, but I'm not eating that."
"You know, calling it rabbit food just makes you sound uneducated. Rabbits will eat anything from grass and clover to twigs and tree bark. You certainly won't see me with wood in my mouth."
Booth choked on a mouthful of pad thai, and Brennan looked at him in concern, putting her food carton down and handing him a bottle of water once his airway was clear.
"You should take smaller bites," she suggested wisely. Booth cleared his throat and fought to contain the smile on his face.
"I was just a little distracted," he admitted, screwing the cap back on his water bottle. She gave him a curious glance and recognized the devious glint in his eyes, grinning appreciatively as he leaned forward to tease her lips with his own.
His tongue traced the curve of her bottom lip, seeking entry, and she granted it without hesitation. Their meal forgotten, Booth pulled her gently onto his lap, angling her legs to rest across his. He wrapped one arm tightly around her waist, and his other hand threaded through her silky hair. She moaned softly as the kiss deepened further, and the delicious sound seemed to make his nerves sizzle in response. Brennan had slid an arm behind his shoulders, pulling him closer until her breasts were pressed against his chest and straining in her low-cut top with every eager breath. Her delicate hand worked slowly over the breadth of his chest, pulling a groan of longing from deep within him.
Booth knew they were playing with fire, so to speak. The blinds on her office windows were closed, but the door was still open. Anyone could walk in at any moment.
And someone did.
"Dr. Brennan, I have a few reports needing your sig-" Cam stopped short with an 'Oh!' of surprise and quickly became flustered. The couple pulled apart immediately, and Brennan slid from Booth's lap, slightly embarrassed. "I, um… I'm sorry, I can...come back later," she blundered, backing out of the office and clicking her high heels rapidly back toward her autopsy room.
The partners looked at each other a little nervously before sharing an intimate laugh.
"Well, if she didn't know about our relationship before, she certainly does now," Booth declared, pulling Brennan back onto his lap and kissing her gently.
"I thought you were going to tell her?" she asked, a bit distracted by the way his lips were moving heatedly along the curve of her jaw.
"I started to the last time we talked, but I was interrupted by a phone call," he explained, nipping the skin below her ear, leaving just a hint of a mark.
"Mmmm. I suppose…oh god… Um, I suppose one of us will need to...talk to her about...mmmm…" His mouth was tormenting her, and Brennan felt a rush of warmth flood her center. She wished desperately that it were dinner he'd brought her rather than lunch so that they could go home and do something to ease the ache between her thighs. She could feel his arousal beneath her as well, and she rolled her hips seductively, knowing that he would be cursing the long afternoon as well.
"Bones," he groaned, begging for the release they both needed so desperately. "I need you," he said, practically whining with his desire. She needed him as well, and she had considered their options for only a moment before she replied.
"There is a certain supply closet that locks from the inside…"
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When Booth dropped his partner off to work the next morning, he made a quick detour to the autopsy room on his way back out. Brennan had agreed that he should be the one to talk to Cam about the intimate moment she'd interrupted the previous day, and although Booth had been friends with Cam for thirteen years, he still felt a little nervous as he peeked through her doorway. He'd half hoped she wouldn't be there.
"Seeley," she greeted, glancing up briefly from her computer screen. He rolled his eyes at the sound of his first name."
"Camille," he retaliated. She glared playfully back at him but didn't continue their usual game.
"You need something?"
"Yeah, um…" his hand went to the back of his neck automatically. "Look, I just wanted to apologize for what you walked in on yesterday. Bones is sorry too, we just thought that since you two don't know each other very well yet, it might be best if I…" he trailed off, hoping she would jump in, but she merely looked back at him with a placid smile and held her silence. "Anyway… I just wanted to reassure you that we're usually very professional at work, so you don't need to worry about anything like that. We just got carried away for a moment…"
"So… you're dating my forensic anthropologist?" she asked congenially. Booth scowled at the question. 'Dating' didn't seem like an apt description of their relationship, and Brennan was his forensic anthropologist. No one would ever convince him otherwise.
"I guess you could say that, yeah…" The term didn't cover their level of commitment, but he decided not to press the issue.
"Is it serious?" she asked, already knowing the answer. Booth didn't do casual.
"Very," he replied with a grin. "Look, I gotta get to the office, I just wanted to apologize for the awkwardness." As much as he would've liked to stand around and talk about his Bones all day, he knew that Brennan didn't like Cam well enough to be okay with him sharing too many details about their relationship. She was only blatantly open when it came to talking about sex. Intimacy was another matter.
"You're forgiven," Cam said with a half-shrug. "But Booth-" He stopped in his progress toward the door. "Please do try to keep it professional." And please don't have sex in my lab, she added mentally.
"Of course," he assured her with an impish smile. "See you later, Camille."
He did hear her usual reprimand that time, but he ignored it, whistling cheerfully all the way to the car.
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It only took one thing to bring Booth down from his good mood the next day. Well, one person. He and Brennan were leaving the lab to head to a crime scene, though running from the lab might have been a more appropriate description.
"Well, if she's been in the water for a year, the bones will be saturated. I'll need nylon mesh bagging and-"
"Cam's bringing in everything on the truck," he assured her.
"Well, after a year, there's not going to be a lot of flesh for Cam."
"Well, you know, Bones...Cam is… She's in charge now. She runs the place; it's her call," Booth replied awkwardly.
"Then let's hurry. I don't want my remains to be compromised," she said, urging him to walk faster. He knew it wasn't the environmental conditions compromising the remains that she worried about. It was Cam. He stifled a grin at Brennan's competitive streak, finding it endearing even if it did exasperate him at times.
He answered an incoming call on his cell, and just like that, his good mood deflated. Rebecca was calling to cancel his upcoming weekend visitation with Parker yet again. This habit of hers had gotten progressively worse over the summer, since she'd started dating someone new. With the exception of Parker's first day of kindergarten in August, Booth hadn't seen his son in nearly two months. He'd even had to beg his ex to see Parker on his birthday, and that had only been for a few hours.
"Whoa, wait a second, slow down, okay? This is my weekend with Parker. I'm his father, alright? Stu is your boyfriend," he argued. Brennan looked at him in concern but didn't slow her pace. Instead, she took one of the field bags from him so that he was less encumbered and could focus on his conversation.
Booth surrendered the bag without complaint, listening to Rebecca deliver her weak reasoning for canceling on Booth yet again. Cam and Zack walked ahead of them to the mobile lab, and Cam was speaking to Brennan. Something she said must've gotten under his girlfriend's skin, because she looked highly insulted.
"Rebecca, he's spending a lot of time with Parker, and I don't even know this guy." Even with the multiple distractions, he saw Brennan's step falter as they entered the parking structure, and he moved his hand to her lower back in a supportive gesture. Her quick pace resumed, but the scowl didn't lift from her features. His attention shifted back to his phone when Rebecca stopped whining long enough to replenish her oxygen, and he pounced on the opportunity. "Because you know what? I just… I just want to make sure he's a good influence on Parker. I gotta run, okay? We'll talk about this later."
Brennan was in the car and buckling her seatbelt with hands that trembled slightly, and she tried to breathe deeply as he pulled the SUV into traffic. She had already felt a little sick at having to reenter the parking garage without sufficient time to prepare herself, but Cam's casual remarks had made her blood boil. Seeing that Booth was off the phone, she launched into a one-sided tirade about the things Cam had said.
"Does she think I'm new at this?! I developed the use of Traxon for aquatic recoveries. And she took Zack; Zack's mine!"
Booth's head was beginning to ache, and he was feeling a definite irritation with the female gender at the moment. Not so much Brennan, because he understood her perspective, but he knew Cam hadn't really needed to incite a competition between the two of them. Unfortunately the only competitive streak to rival Brennan's happened to belong to her new boss. And what the fuck is wrong with Rebecca?
Sensing his agitation, Brennan shifted her focus to the more important matter at hand. She'd heard enough of his conversation to realize that Rebecca was trying to cancel yet another weekend visit, and Brennan immediately worked to calm her own sensibilities.
"What did Rebecca say?"
Booth sighed and recapitulated the conversation, adding that if Rebecca wouldn't answer his questions about Stu or Drew or whatever his name was, he'd find out on his own.
"You're going to run a background check on him?" she asked, a little surprised. "That seems a little much, considering that you allow me to be around Parker when he's with you."
"The difference is that I know you're a good influence, Bones. And you would never overstep a boundary with him, you know? You don't try to push Rebecca out of his life," he defended her.
"So you feel like Rebecca's new romantic partner is trying to push you out of Parker's life?" she surmised.
"I don't know... It feels like she's hiding something, Bones. I just want to know who's spending so much time around my son. She won't really tell me anything about him, and it's not like I haven't been willing to answer pretty much any question she's ever asked me about you."
Brennan carefully pried the iron grip of his right hand loose from the steering wheel and brought his hand to her lap, squeezing it gently.
"It's unfair," she agreed. "And you're absolutely right that you're entitled to know who is contributing to Parker's social and emotional development." Booth heaved a sigh and welcomed the comfort she was offering.
"I just miss him, Bones. It wouldn't be so bad if I was getting time with him like I'm supposed to."
"I know," she agreed, continuing hesitantly, "Maybe… maybe it's time to sit down and talk to her about all of it. Try to come to a reasonable compromise."
Booth contemplated the scenario she presented, and Brennan took his silence as a good sign. In the past, he had mostly shied away at the mention of confronting Rebecca about her behavior. Or else he'd confronted her angrily, which never produced positive results.
Quiet consideration was progress, and she hoped that perhaps he might be ready to accept her help.
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Brennan started her preliminary examination of the remains, gritting her teeth as she heard Cam order Zack around again. She may have approved of her new boss's competent handling of the irritating attorney on their last case, but during the week that had passed between that case and this one, Cam had been constantly finding ways to step on Brennan's metaphorical toes.
"Caucasian, female, twenty-five to thirty," Brennan announced. "And barnacle and small muscle incrustation indicates she's been in the water for about a year." Cam made a dissenting noise and pulled back the plastic sheeting from the lower portion of the body.
"They have," Cam corrected, drawing everyone's attention to the skeletal remains of a very small infant.
"God," Booth groaned in horror. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to get his bearings. Brennan was making a similar effort, but her eyes remained open as she examined the tiny bones.
"Size of the fetal bones indicates this fetus was viable."
"How could someone do this to their own kid?" Booth asked. No one had an answer.
Their victim was presumed to be a pregnant woman named Carlie Richardson, a newlywed who had gone missing the year before. Her husband had been the primary suspect, but without a body, there had been no way to prove anything. Booth had told her the story when they'd gotten the call about the crime scene, since they had to expect media coverage.
Brennan and Zack identified multiple fractures, most likely from sharp force trauma to the ribs, manubrium, clavicle, ulna, radius, and sphenoids.
"This was a very violent attack," Brennan commented grimly. Booth still looked a little green but got down to business.
"Find the murder weapon?"
"Not yet. Scoop guys just got here," Cam answered him. Brennan's forehead wrinkled in confusion for a moment, but Cam gestured to the diving team who were preparing to search the lake. Brennan rolled her eyes a little at the nickname, feeling that the last thing she needed was another colleague who spoke in colloquialisms and absurd phrases.
"Tell them to look for a left leg and missing fetal bones," Brennan advised.
"Looks like we finally get to put Richardson away," Cam said with a sigh. "I love being a hero."
"A heroine," Brennan corrected.
"Mmm...sounds too druggy. I'm going with hero." Cam moved to scrape a tool against one of the dead woman's hands.
"Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?" Brennan used one of her own hands to stop her, looking alarmed.
"Scraping the adipocere tissue from the hand," her boss replied as though it should have been obvious.
"No, you could compromise the bone. You should use suction back at the lab," she instructed insistently. "If you want a conviction. It's your call." She raised her hand in the air to amplify her sarcasm.
"Are we gonna have another murder here, or what?" Booth asked nervously. Cam considered them both for a half second and desisted.
"No, no. I have the utmost respect for the doc," she answered, standing up. "Glad she works for me."
Brennan threw a scathing look at Cam's retreating back and gritted her teeth. Booth confirmed the victim's clothing as a match for those that Carlie Richardson was last seen wearing and indicated that the rope still bound to the body could be a match to the type found in Richardson's house.
While they drove back to the lab, Booth was on his cell ordering backup for his next task-picking up their suspect. Brennan didn't ask to join him, and he didn't offer. He knew that her top priority was getting back to the lab to guard the remains against any more of Cam's unwise techniques. He pulled up to the main entrance, and she started to exit the vehicle.
"Hey," he stopped her, crooking his index finger to motion her closer. She smiled reluctantly and leaned in to kiss him. It was quick, but it was enough to soothe them both after a frustrating morning.
"Be careful," she told him seriously, trying to disregard his charm smile.
"Always."
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Booth showed up back at the lab much sooner than expected. The suspect, Kyle Richardson, had made a run for it only minutes before Booth and his team had reached his home. This had certainly not improved Booth's mood, and he hoped that the evidence he was bringing to the squints now could give him a new lead to follow while his agents tracked down the suspect.
He announced the contents of the box he was carrying as he entered the autopsy room, finding the squints analyzing the remains. Brennan's gaze connected with his immediately, and Booth could tell that her day hadn't improved yet either.
"We got the rope, plastic sheeting, knife set with one missing, and Richardson's DNA results."
"File says witnesses placed Richardson at the marina on the bay the night the victim disappeared. Looks like he's not walking away this time, Seeley."
"Ironic, since he's running now," Hodgins chimed in.
"Hodgins, you do know Booth is bigger than you, right?" Angela asked with a smirk.
"Right… Not your fault, dude," he told the surly-looking agent.
"Let's focus, people. This should be a slam dunk," Cam rallied them. "We screw this one up, I'm gonna look like a fool, and someone's gonna have to pay for that."
"We just started collecting evidence," Brennan reminded her coolly.
"There are boxes of evidence. The remains are the icing on the cake." Booth tried not to smile sympathetically at Brennan's irritated expression. Cam talked more like a cop than a scientist, and he knew that his girlfriend was struggling to maintain her patience. "Let's just hand the prosecutor what she needs so I can have a nice weekend throwing back shots and playing poker."
"Yeah, that should motivate us," Brennan said, scowling at Cam's thoughtless remark and wondering if the woman had any idea that Booth had quit gambling since the last time Cam had seen him. Brennan glanced at her partner briefly and caught his reassuring smile. She attempted one of her own, but failed.
The team continued their analysis for a few more minutes before the others left the room, leaving only Brennan, Booth, and Cam. The next time Brennan looked at Booth, he was staring down at the fetal remains with an expression so heartsick that her own chest ached in response. She stripped off her gloves and crossed the room to stand next to him, ignoring the feel of Cam's eyes following her.
"It was a boy," Brennan told him quietly. He nodded. "Are you okay?"
Their eyes met, and he didn't have to answer her out loud for her to understand him. Booth was angry about the case as well as the situation with Parker. It seemed that nothing had gone right since they'd gotten the call about the crime scene. Brennan didn't speak the comfort she was offering him; it wasn't necessary. Since Cam was in the room, she didn't touch him either, but her eyes spoke volumes. He got lost for a few moments in their captivating depths, and Brennan could see the tension easing from him slightly.
Cam watched them surreptitiously, feeling unpleasantly like an intruder in her own office. However, she elected not to say anything until after Brennan had replaced her gloves and resumed her work. Booth announced stiffly that he was going to go talk to Richardson's new girlfriend and left the room.
"He always was a little touchy," Cam commented.
Brennan's answer was no more than a vague, "Yeah," having no desire to compare notes with her regarding Booth. Brennan recalled the way Cam always used his name, and although it seemed to be a running joke between the two of them, Brennan wondered a little nervously if Booth ever wanted her to call him Seeley. It felt odd even to say it in her mind, but she knew that Rebecca called him by his first name as well. Perhaps she would simply ask him, she thought. Brennan glanced at the clock with a sigh, returning her full attention to the remains. It was barely ten, and she already wanted to go home. The thought startled her, and she was unable to remember ever before feeling such an eagerness to leave the lab. Was it due to Cam or Booth?
...Booth. Definitely Booth.
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After arriving back at the Hoover and giving Charlie the task of running a background check on Rebecca's boyfriend, Booth interviewed Kyle Richardson's girlfriend, Karen. The woman's face was bruised, which only made Booth's intolerance for her boyfriend wane even further. She seemed to be of the stereotype to defend her abuser's actions, however, and that meant that Booth was losing patience with her as well.
He showed her a few photos of the body they'd pulled from the water only that morning in order to gauge her reaction, but she was as outraged and disgusted as any sane person should be. She still claimed that Richardson couldn't possibly have murdered his wife, but Booth wasn't sold on the performance. He instructed her to call him if her boyfriend contacted her in any way, or else risk an obstruction charge at the very least.
Booth checked his watch and grumbled at the too-slow passage to time. This day needed to go faster.
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Brennan had retreated to the Bone Room once the bones were clean, and for the first time that day, she was able to enjoy being at work. Cam seemed to have been testing her patience at every turn, but this room was her domain, and Brennan felt her inner balance returning the longer she stood over the lighted table.
After a little while, Angela drifted into the room wearing a hesitant expression. Brennan spoke first but didn't look up from the bone in her hand.
"Do you have something?"
"Not yet, I just… I wanted to check on you. You've seemed pretty tense today."
"I'm fine," she replied calmly. It was almost true; she was better than the last time Angela had seen her.
"Right, yeah, you're always fine, but today you're also irritable. Bit of a contradiction there, Sweetie."
Brennan ignored that comment and drew the conversation to the case instead, earning a well-deserved eye roll from Angela.
"There's another gash on the second rib, right side. Approximately forty-five degrees, left to right," Brennan told her, demonstrating the fit with a large butcher knife. Angela cringed and shook her head in disgust.
"Why didn't he just divorce her?"
"Some people shouldn't get married in the first place," Brennan replied. Angela was silent for a moment, regarding her friend with a curious tilt of her head.
"Do you ever think about marrying Booth?" She did her best to keep her tone casual, and it seemed to work because Brennan actually answered the question.
"I'd be lying if I said I'd never considered it," she admitted evenly, still studying the bones. "Though I don't really see the need. We're committed to one another without a ceremony or legal document. It wouldn't make our relationship any more real than it already is."
Angela raised her brows in response, but kept quiet as Zack entered with a tray of bone fragments and began discussing the murder weapon with Brennan. Even though Angela knew how much Booth had changed Brennan, she was surprised that her best friend had admitted to considering marriage. She'd certainly come a long way from her 'antiquated ritual' talk. Angela had also caught on to the key word in Brennan's statement. She didn't see the need to get married. That brought an affectionate grin to the artist's face, considering how much Brennan had evolved in the past year.
Angela was quite certain that even if Brennan never got around to comprehending the need to get married, she would eventually come to understand the want.
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Is Angela right? Hmmm... Review if you loved it. Or if you hated it. Or just to say hi, whatever. ;)