Vanishing Point (by Gum) Rated T
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Re: Vanishing Point (by Gum) Rated T
by Thnx4theGum on Wed Jun 16, 2010 1:32 am
Chapter 14: What's in a Day?
Booth discovered that he wasn't as opposed to onions as he thought- or at least not the way they tasted in her mouth when they kissed goodbye. It wasn't a short kiss, but it wasn't nearly as long as he wanted and it seemed even shorter given the eternity he would have to wait to kiss her again. When he brought that up, trying to bargain for another kiss she chided him for being melodramatic and gave him the same amused smile as she had during their first case back from his tumor when he'd asked for a kiss.
They had agreed to meet the next day for lunch and discuss their options before making their final decisions. It meant a lot to him that she hadn't said yes right away and that she was going to ask for some outside advice too. He'd done his Googling while he waited for her to call and discovered just how much she'd been downplaying things for him.
The dig was comprised of three separate teams, each with their own specific agenda. The scientific, historical, and archeological fields were all abuzz about the potential this site held, and it didn't take a lot of reading between the lines to know that professional prestige was at stake. A quick look at the list of people involved read like a Who's Who list from the different disciplines, and for Bones to be asked to supervise all three groups was an amazing honor, and a testament to how respected she was in her field.
It was hard for him sometimes to think of the bigger life that she led outside of their partnership and the more he read about this dig, the more he wondered if it would be selfish of him to let her stay. This could certainly mean big things for her future career and the last thing he wanted to do was hold her back, no matter how much he loved going to work with her every day.
The thing that had struck him the most, however, was how worn out she seemed from dealing with murder victims on a weekly, if not daily sometimes, basis. Up until recently she'd seemed to be compartmentalizing things the way she always had, but he knew a big part of that ability had been taken out of her during the Grave Digger trial. Only a few nights ago, her body had been wracked with sobs as he'd held her tight and she was obviously still shaken from it. He really couldn't blame her for wanting to take a step back and get some perspective.
His end of the decision making spectrum was a whole different matter. Words like duty, honor, and service to one's country still resonated deep within him despite the years he'd been away from the Army. While it was true he carried around a few demons from his sniper past, he'd do it all again for the life lessons that had been instilled into him during his early adult years. The Rangers had taken an arrogant, angry kid, torn him down until he felt like he was nothing but dirt, and then rebuilt him into a man who was strong, sure of himself, and in full command of his emotions.
A ringing at his belt stopped his musings short and he answered, “Booth.”
“If you're done playin' tonsil hockey over your lunch break, I'm watin' on my report,” a slightly amused, but ever-impatient Caroline fussed.
“I'll go grab it,” he assured her, jogging up the steps and into the building.
“I'll be in the conference room,” she informed him, then hung up.
It was no surprise that she questioned the lack of “spice” in his report given how long it'd taken him to cobble together that much and for the first time in years he had to fend off the apathy he felt toward this case. She stared at him long and hard, expecting an answer without having to ask for one and he pulled the letter from where it had been burning a hole in his suit jacket.
He could feel her eyes traveling between him and the letter as he started to pace, running a nervous hand through his hair.
“Aren't you a little old to go off fighting wars?” she questioned him pointedly.
“I'm not going to be fighting,” he sighed, then repeated the recruiter's speech. “They just want me to train soldiers to investigate, pursue, and detain.”
“Are you going?” her tone was maternal, without it's usual bite. “What about your partner? I thought you two had finally wised up?”
He leaned back against the conference room wall and sighed with a slight shrug, “We're still deciding. Bones, she got invited to go to Indonesia. A huge thing for her.” He stood up again, “You know what, maybe it's time for you find a new FBI guy and forensic anthropologist?”
“Yes,” the sarcastic edge was back as she stood up. “On account you're both so replaceable. You gotta act like a big boy on this one.”
“You don't want me to go?” he was looking for some kind of out to give himself.
“Nope,” she shook her head, facing him head on, “you go, you stay- that's up to you. But before you go, you clear this case. Not just dress up nothin' in a nice report.”
She took one last, sad look at him before walking out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts once again. Taking his letter from where Caroline had left it he put it back in his jacket and went back to brood in his office until something new broke in the case. There was a manilla folder outlining the FBI's teaching proposal, along with a one-year contract for him to sign waiting for him on his desk.
He paged through it for a few minutes, noting that it was pretty much what they'd told him about last night. Teaching wasn't a new thing for Booth. He and Bones had given their share of joint lectures over the last few years, not to mention his gig at Scotland Yard a couple years back. What he hadn't had to do- and what they were asking him to- was teach over a long period of time, follow a set curriculum, come up with tests, and hand out grades at the end.
Coming to the end of the contract, he flipped open his cell phone and dialed, a sense of relief hitting him when the person on the other end picked up, “Hey, Chris, mind if I ask you a few questions about what it's like over there at Quantico?”
His old instructor was more than happy to answer his questions and give his opinion when asked. The thing Booth had always appreciated about Chris was that he didn't sugar-coat things, so he gave Booth a good idea of what the downsides of the job were too; something he hadn't been able to drag out of Hacker and company last night.
When Chris asked him whether or not he was considering the job, Booth told him about the Army's offer and what all that would entail. The two men discussed what the pros and cons would be for him; the biggest plus being that he wouldn't have to leave Parker for a year.
“I can't tell you what choice to make,” the older man told him, “because in the end, it's your life that's affected. It sounds to me like you and Dr. Brennan have a stable enough relationship that you could survive the time apart, and the two offers aren't all that much different once you strip them down to bare essentials. So the question for you, Seeley, is how long is a year in the life of your son?”
There was a call coming in on the office line from the lab, so Booth quickly thanked his friend for his time and the food for thought and hung up. To his disappointment it was Cam, not Bones, calling to let him know about Hodgins' atomic gnome find, and that Angela had located potential suspect. He called Caroline as soon and Cam was done and she gleefully told him that she'd snag the warrant for him.
A couple hours later, he was back in the interrogation room, gnome and suspect in tow. From the outset he sensed the guy was a few fries short of a Happy Meal the way he talked like the gnome was real, but Booth went with him. He hid a smirk when the guy said that the gnome saw everything, glad for the first time that Bones wasn't along for this one, but even he had to give up when the gnome told Rocky to zip his lip and call for a lawyer.
Caroline was not pleased, even with the fancier report that his partner brought over, since they still had no clue who the murderer was or what had caused the injuries that had led to Murphy being trapped under his crap in the first place. She also could see through the nervous tension between them and told them that they'd better be damn sure about how these little trips could affect them before they made any permanent decisions.
“Are you alright?” Brennan asked, concerned, as they stood abandoned by the elevators where Caroline had left them.
“Just, you know, frustrated with this case,” he said lamely.
“Yeah,” she nodded just as lamely. “I guess- well, I mean, I should get back to the lab.”
“So since we talked, do we have to reset the timer?” he joked as she reached out and pressed the elevator call button.
“This was work,” she rationalized. “We are partners so it's not feasible to think we could go an entire 24 hours without interacting on a professional level.”
“You're right, hey, don't stay up with that skull too late tonight, Bones,” he smiled.
“I won't,” she promised. “And you shouldn't watch copious amounts of television. The inactivity isn't good for you, nor is falling asleep on your couch good for your back.”
He was so close he could've kissed her, but instead he caught her hand in his for just a brief second and squeezed tightly.
“See ya tomorrow,” he half-whispered as the elevator dinged it's arrival.
“Good bye,” she flashed the small smile she reserved just for him.
The doors closed between them, swallowing her up and he was alone. With no dinner companion, no drinking partner, and no one to breathe life into his lonely apartment, he stayed as late as he could, then left, convinced that this would be one of the longest nights of his adult life.
Booth discovered that he wasn't as opposed to onions as he thought- or at least not the way they tasted in her mouth when they kissed goodbye. It wasn't a short kiss, but it wasn't nearly as long as he wanted and it seemed even shorter given the eternity he would have to wait to kiss her again. When he brought that up, trying to bargain for another kiss she chided him for being melodramatic and gave him the same amused smile as she had during their first case back from his tumor when he'd asked for a kiss.
They had agreed to meet the next day for lunch and discuss their options before making their final decisions. It meant a lot to him that she hadn't said yes right away and that she was going to ask for some outside advice too. He'd done his Googling while he waited for her to call and discovered just how much she'd been downplaying things for him.
The dig was comprised of three separate teams, each with their own specific agenda. The scientific, historical, and archeological fields were all abuzz about the potential this site held, and it didn't take a lot of reading between the lines to know that professional prestige was at stake. A quick look at the list of people involved read like a Who's Who list from the different disciplines, and for Bones to be asked to supervise all three groups was an amazing honor, and a testament to how respected she was in her field.
It was hard for him sometimes to think of the bigger life that she led outside of their partnership and the more he read about this dig, the more he wondered if it would be selfish of him to let her stay. This could certainly mean big things for her future career and the last thing he wanted to do was hold her back, no matter how much he loved going to work with her every day.
The thing that had struck him the most, however, was how worn out she seemed from dealing with murder victims on a weekly, if not daily sometimes, basis. Up until recently she'd seemed to be compartmentalizing things the way she always had, but he knew a big part of that ability had been taken out of her during the Grave Digger trial. Only a few nights ago, her body had been wracked with sobs as he'd held her tight and she was obviously still shaken from it. He really couldn't blame her for wanting to take a step back and get some perspective.
His end of the decision making spectrum was a whole different matter. Words like duty, honor, and service to one's country still resonated deep within him despite the years he'd been away from the Army. While it was true he carried around a few demons from his sniper past, he'd do it all again for the life lessons that had been instilled into him during his early adult years. The Rangers had taken an arrogant, angry kid, torn him down until he felt like he was nothing but dirt, and then rebuilt him into a man who was strong, sure of himself, and in full command of his emotions.
A ringing at his belt stopped his musings short and he answered, “Booth.”
“If you're done playin' tonsil hockey over your lunch break, I'm watin' on my report,” a slightly amused, but ever-impatient Caroline fussed.
“I'll go grab it,” he assured her, jogging up the steps and into the building.
“I'll be in the conference room,” she informed him, then hung up.
It was no surprise that she questioned the lack of “spice” in his report given how long it'd taken him to cobble together that much and for the first time in years he had to fend off the apathy he felt toward this case. She stared at him long and hard, expecting an answer without having to ask for one and he pulled the letter from where it had been burning a hole in his suit jacket.
He could feel her eyes traveling between him and the letter as he started to pace, running a nervous hand through his hair.
“Aren't you a little old to go off fighting wars?” she questioned him pointedly.
“I'm not going to be fighting,” he sighed, then repeated the recruiter's speech. “They just want me to train soldiers to investigate, pursue, and detain.”
“Are you going?” her tone was maternal, without it's usual bite. “What about your partner? I thought you two had finally wised up?”
He leaned back against the conference room wall and sighed with a slight shrug, “We're still deciding. Bones, she got invited to go to Indonesia. A huge thing for her.” He stood up again, “You know what, maybe it's time for you find a new FBI guy and forensic anthropologist?”
“Yes,” the sarcastic edge was back as she stood up. “On account you're both so replaceable. You gotta act like a big boy on this one.”
“You don't want me to go?” he was looking for some kind of out to give himself.
“Nope,” she shook her head, facing him head on, “you go, you stay- that's up to you. But before you go, you clear this case. Not just dress up nothin' in a nice report.”
She took one last, sad look at him before walking out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts once again. Taking his letter from where Caroline had left it he put it back in his jacket and went back to brood in his office until something new broke in the case. There was a manilla folder outlining the FBI's teaching proposal, along with a one-year contract for him to sign waiting for him on his desk.
He paged through it for a few minutes, noting that it was pretty much what they'd told him about last night. Teaching wasn't a new thing for Booth. He and Bones had given their share of joint lectures over the last few years, not to mention his gig at Scotland Yard a couple years back. What he hadn't had to do- and what they were asking him to- was teach over a long period of time, follow a set curriculum, come up with tests, and hand out grades at the end.
Coming to the end of the contract, he flipped open his cell phone and dialed, a sense of relief hitting him when the person on the other end picked up, “Hey, Chris, mind if I ask you a few questions about what it's like over there at Quantico?”
His old instructor was more than happy to answer his questions and give his opinion when asked. The thing Booth had always appreciated about Chris was that he didn't sugar-coat things, so he gave Booth a good idea of what the downsides of the job were too; something he hadn't been able to drag out of Hacker and company last night.
When Chris asked him whether or not he was considering the job, Booth told him about the Army's offer and what all that would entail. The two men discussed what the pros and cons would be for him; the biggest plus being that he wouldn't have to leave Parker for a year.
“I can't tell you what choice to make,” the older man told him, “because in the end, it's your life that's affected. It sounds to me like you and Dr. Brennan have a stable enough relationship that you could survive the time apart, and the two offers aren't all that much different once you strip them down to bare essentials. So the question for you, Seeley, is how long is a year in the life of your son?”
There was a call coming in on the office line from the lab, so Booth quickly thanked his friend for his time and the food for thought and hung up. To his disappointment it was Cam, not Bones, calling to let him know about Hodgins' atomic gnome find, and that Angela had located potential suspect. He called Caroline as soon and Cam was done and she gleefully told him that she'd snag the warrant for him.
A couple hours later, he was back in the interrogation room, gnome and suspect in tow. From the outset he sensed the guy was a few fries short of a Happy Meal the way he talked like the gnome was real, but Booth went with him. He hid a smirk when the guy said that the gnome saw everything, glad for the first time that Bones wasn't along for this one, but even he had to give up when the gnome told Rocky to zip his lip and call for a lawyer.
Caroline was not pleased, even with the fancier report that his partner brought over, since they still had no clue who the murderer was or what had caused the injuries that had led to Murphy being trapped under his crap in the first place. She also could see through the nervous tension between them and told them that they'd better be damn sure about how these little trips could affect them before they made any permanent decisions.
“Are you alright?” Brennan asked, concerned, as they stood abandoned by the elevators where Caroline had left them.
“Just, you know, frustrated with this case,” he said lamely.
“Yeah,” she nodded just as lamely. “I guess- well, I mean, I should get back to the lab.”
“So since we talked, do we have to reset the timer?” he joked as she reached out and pressed the elevator call button.
“This was work,” she rationalized. “We are partners so it's not feasible to think we could go an entire 24 hours without interacting on a professional level.”
“You're right, hey, don't stay up with that skull too late tonight, Bones,” he smiled.
“I won't,” she promised. “And you shouldn't watch copious amounts of television. The inactivity isn't good for you, nor is falling asleep on your couch good for your back.”
He was so close he could've kissed her, but instead he caught her hand in his for just a brief second and squeezed tightly.
“See ya tomorrow,” he half-whispered as the elevator dinged it's arrival.
“Good bye,” she flashed the small smile she reserved just for him.
The doors closed between them, swallowing her up and he was alone. With no dinner companion, no drinking partner, and no one to breathe life into his lonely apartment, he stayed as late as he could, then left, convinced that this would be one of the longest nights of his adult life.
Thnx4theGum- Forensic Artist
- Number of posts: 168
Age: 31
Registration date: 2009-09-23
Re: Vanishing Point (by Gum) Rated T
by Thnx4theGum on Thu Jun 17, 2010 8:20 pm
Chapter 15: A Boothy Alternative
“That's a big smile,” Angela commented when Brennan returned from her rendezvous with Booth, winking suggestively. “What kind of lunch are they serving over at the Hoover these days?”
“We didn't eat in the Hoover's cafeteria,” she made a face, remaining deliberately obtuse.
“Either way, I still say you and Sexy had some fun wherever you went.” Angela moved closer to Brennan and whispered, “Don't think I don't know a hickey coverup when I see one.”
Brennan flushed, hand flying to her neck as her feet carried her swiftly into her office. “It's-” she fumbled for words.
“It's a good thing, Sweetie,” Angela assured her with a smile. “A very good thing. Explains a lot of what we were chatting about yesterday.”
“It does?” Brennan sank into her chair, wondering if she was up for an afternoon full of Angela's gushing.
“Yep,” the artist nodded, then gave her a sympathetic look. “You'll figure things out with him, Bren. Just go with your metaphorical heart on this one.”
“But what if my metaphorical heart needs a respite from its constant state of worry?” she wondered out loud.
“Then take it,” Angela encouraged. “Just know that you don't have to go halfway around the world to get a break from being partners with Booth.”
“Thanks,” she said softly.
The two of them shared a look, Angela gave one last saucy comment about Brennan finally riding that train, and she left Brennan to her own thoughts. The problem was, Brennan discovered quickly, that she now had more doubts than ever as to what the necessary course of action should be. Angela had offered her advice and only other person Brennan had ever entrusted her feelings to was Booth.
Shoving her feelings away for the time being, she buried herself back in her work until Hodgins announced he'd found something of import in the case. It was an odd discovery to be sure, but a useful one and one she hoped would help them wrap up this as-yet weak case. Cam offered to call Booth and Daisy was still busy with the skull, so Brennan went back to her office once again.
Working hard or hardly working? The text appeared on her phone an hour later.
The former, she replied. Did you talk to the man who misappropriated the gnome?
Yeah, he's a nut but he checks out.
Oh.
Is your report for Caroline done? Including the new stuff?
Yes. Does she need it?
She's getting restless.
I can bring it to you if you want.
Sure! See you soon!
She couldn't help the small smile that came to her face as she gathered up the appropriate papers to take over with her, then remembered something she'd wanted to tell Booth earlier.
Angela knows about us thanks to your vampire-esque tendencies. She typed as she left her office for the Hoover.
There were several people who she either needed to talk with or who needed to talk with her on her way out, so it wasn't until she was outside the building that she could read his reply.
Hah! Caroline found out too. Guess our secret's blown now.
She paused for a moment to reply before starting her car, Does that bother you?
Nah. His response was almost instant.
The phone rang so she had to wait to see if he'd written anything more, “Brennan.”
“Hey, Bones,” the familiar voice brought a smile to her face. “I figured this might be easier than texting and walking at the same time.”
She clipped her blue tooth earpiece on and slid the phone into her purse, thinking for a moment about calling him on the fact that they were not supposed to be talking outside of work-related topics, then dismissing that idea out of hand. One of the reasons that she and Booth connected so well was because of their natural ability to talk about any variety of subjects. Even if they didn't agree on a topic, the discussion was always lively and enjoyable.
They did end up spending most of the conversation on the case; both agreeing in the end that it was weak and neither voicing that they weren't necessarily in a rush to close the case given the decisions that would have to be made shortly thereafter.
“Oh, good, come here,” he put his hand firmly on her lower back while simultaneously snatching the report from her hand.
“Booth!” she batted at his arm. “What are you doing?”
He opened it up, slapped it on the copier and pushed the button, then proceeded to do the same with the rest of the pages.
“Ooh, good,” he murmured as he scanned the copied pages. “Very good.”
“What is very good?” she demanded, arms crossed.
“You've got lots of the jibber-jabber in here,” he grinned at her. “Caroline will love that; or at least, she'll ignore it, but count it as something. As opposed to my report, which she called nothing.”
“Ah,” she nodded in understanding. “I presume this means you will want to do all of the talking?”
“You got it, Babe,” he winked, then collected all of the pages and strode toward the conference room.
“Booth,” she complained, skipping to catch up with him, “you need to stop referring to me as an infant, especially in the workplace!”
“I'll wear you down,” he turned around so that he was walking backwards and facing her, then mimed the next word, “Baby.”
“What was that, Cherie?” Caroline's voice boomed from behind Booth.
“Ahh,” he yelped, whipping around.
“Much as I hate to break up this love fest,” the prosecutor went on, “we do have a case to solve. You wanna give me that report, or keep clutching it like a security blanket?”
Brennan chuckled while Booth scowled and launched into their report, handing over Brennan's findings. Caroline was only marginally impressed and had more to say about the choices the couple was considering than the case. Though she did warn them both that she wanted the case wrapped up as “tight as a drum” before leaving in her usual dramatic fashion.
Booth and Brennan stood by the elevator, once again using idle conversation to prolong her inevitable departure. When the doors closed, blocking him from her sight, she once again questioned whether her metaphorical heart could remain intact if they were separated for an entire year. The thought that she had become so dependent on another person for her own happiness both frightened her on one level, and on another brought her an odd sense of comfort and security she hadn't felt since she was a small child.
Somewhere between the Hoover and the Jeffersonian, she realized that another conundrum faced her: since she had stayed overnight at Booth's and he had brought her to the lab she was without a vehicle. Her first thought was that this would give her a legitimate reason to see him again tonight, but the part of her that wished to remain true to the spirit of their agreement won out in the end.
All transportation thoughts fled, however, when she reached her office and found that she had a visitor waiting for her patiently on her couch.
“Booth's at the Hoover,” she informed him after they'd exchanged greetings.
“I know,” Hank Booth flashed a very familiar smile at her. “I'm not here to see him, though.”
“Oh,” she said, taking a seat beside him when he patted the cushion. “I see.”
“Do you?” the old man prodded.
“To be honest, no,” she shook her head. “Did we have an appointment I forgot to meet? Is there something you wish to inform me of that you don't want Booth to know? Perhaps you'd like me to further clarify the treatment plan your doctor laid out for you?”
“Seeley called me earlier today,” he said forthrightly, “he wanted my advice on some decisions you two have to make.”
“And he asked you to speak to me as well?” she hypothesized, feeling slightly upset.
“No,” Hank assured her, laying a tender hand on her arm. “He has no clue I'm here and would probably kick my ass if he knew since I took a cab.”
They shared a laugh, “Yes, he would.” She eyed him warily, “Why are you here?”
“Didn't you listen to what I said?” he asked. “I'm here to help. This isn't some lightweight thing you're considering so I figured you'd need a sounding board too.”
She nodded and found herself admitting, “Booth usually fills that capacity.”
“I figured as much,” Hank grunted. “Well, Sweetheart, I'm a little bit more grizzled and don't cut nearly the figure that that grandson of mine does, but I'm a Booth; and I'd be honored to listen to whatever's on your mind if you'll have me.”
“Why?” she needed to know, fighting back a sudden rush of emotion.
“He loves you,” came the simple reply.
Ever so slowly, through the pinpricks of tears that were as close to the surface as they had ever been, she began unpacking all of the emotional baggage that had been weighing her down since Booth's tumor a year ago. They talked about how the cases affected her on a personal level much more than they ever had before, and about her fears- rational and irrational- concerning her partner and dear friend.
Never in her life had she been more open and honest about her feelings toward Booth, but whether it was because of his familial ties or simply because he truly listened to what she had to say without interjection his opinion every two seconds, she felt safe exposing so much of herself. When she finished, he told her a few anecdotes from his own past concerning choices that he had made that were difficult at the time, and ones that he wished he had chosen differently once he had gained enough life perspective.
They talked about what she thought she would enjoy doing and what her possible options could be. When they'd finished, it was close to dinner time and she offered to treat him to a meal, arguing that it would be something her Booth would insist upon before Hank headed home. With a laugh that shook his entire body, he agreed, telling her he hoped his grandson knew what he was in for.
An hour and a half later, they stood outside of the diner and she called him a cab, though not before eliciting a solemn vow from him that he would call the moment he arrived back at his apartment. With a tight squeeze and a rough kiss on her cheek, he said goodbye and wished her well. It was not until long after the tail lights faded that she walked back to the Jeffersonian, more sure of herself than she had been in quite some time.
After a few emails back and forth with Dr. Albright, where she made her position on the matter clear, she returned to the case at hand, fully focused and ready to coax the truth that she knew lay within the blade marks on Tim Murphy's skull.
“You been here all night?” Cam's voice startled her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see the pathologist bearing a steaming mug of coffee.
“Is it morning?” she asked, fairly certain it was.
“Yes,” Cam confirmed, setting the coffee down for her.
“I've been here all night,” she said, going back to the skull.
Cam then asked if she had found anything and listened closely as Brennan pointed out the relationship of the direction of force versus the direction of impact. She went on to explain that it was a fan's propeller that had caused the wound, recalling the number of fans that had been present at the crime scene. She set the skull down reverently with a small sigh.
“Are you really leaving the Jeffersonian?” Cam asked, confirming that she had received Brennan's late-night email notice.
“Yes,” she nodded, then quickly qualified her answer, “for a year. I can provide you with a list of forensic anthropologists who can do this job.”
“No, Dr. Brennan,” Cam spoke with warmth and wisdom, “you can provide me with a list of forensic anthropologists.”
“I don't know what that means,” she hedged, unsure if what she suspected the pathologist was really saying was true.
The women shared a look: a smile, borne out of a relationship that had begun with animosity, grown to grudging respect, and was now something akin to a professional friendship. As she watched Cam turn and leave the room, Brennan knew she would miss her far more than she had ever thought possible.
“That's a big smile,” Angela commented when Brennan returned from her rendezvous with Booth, winking suggestively. “What kind of lunch are they serving over at the Hoover these days?”
“We didn't eat in the Hoover's cafeteria,” she made a face, remaining deliberately obtuse.
“Either way, I still say you and Sexy had some fun wherever you went.” Angela moved closer to Brennan and whispered, “Don't think I don't know a hickey coverup when I see one.”
Brennan flushed, hand flying to her neck as her feet carried her swiftly into her office. “It's-” she fumbled for words.
“It's a good thing, Sweetie,” Angela assured her with a smile. “A very good thing. Explains a lot of what we were chatting about yesterday.”
“It does?” Brennan sank into her chair, wondering if she was up for an afternoon full of Angela's gushing.
“Yep,” the artist nodded, then gave her a sympathetic look. “You'll figure things out with him, Bren. Just go with your metaphorical heart on this one.”
“But what if my metaphorical heart needs a respite from its constant state of worry?” she wondered out loud.
“Then take it,” Angela encouraged. “Just know that you don't have to go halfway around the world to get a break from being partners with Booth.”
“Thanks,” she said softly.
The two of them shared a look, Angela gave one last saucy comment about Brennan finally riding that train, and she left Brennan to her own thoughts. The problem was, Brennan discovered quickly, that she now had more doubts than ever as to what the necessary course of action should be. Angela had offered her advice and only other person Brennan had ever entrusted her feelings to was Booth.
Shoving her feelings away for the time being, she buried herself back in her work until Hodgins announced he'd found something of import in the case. It was an odd discovery to be sure, but a useful one and one she hoped would help them wrap up this as-yet weak case. Cam offered to call Booth and Daisy was still busy with the skull, so Brennan went back to her office once again.
Working hard or hardly working? The text appeared on her phone an hour later.
The former, she replied. Did you talk to the man who misappropriated the gnome?
Yeah, he's a nut but he checks out.
Oh.
Is your report for Caroline done? Including the new stuff?
Yes. Does she need it?
She's getting restless.
I can bring it to you if you want.
Sure! See you soon!
She couldn't help the small smile that came to her face as she gathered up the appropriate papers to take over with her, then remembered something she'd wanted to tell Booth earlier.
Angela knows about us thanks to your vampire-esque tendencies. She typed as she left her office for the Hoover.
There were several people who she either needed to talk with or who needed to talk with her on her way out, so it wasn't until she was outside the building that she could read his reply.
Hah! Caroline found out too. Guess our secret's blown now.
She paused for a moment to reply before starting her car, Does that bother you?
Nah. His response was almost instant.
The phone rang so she had to wait to see if he'd written anything more, “Brennan.”
“Hey, Bones,” the familiar voice brought a smile to her face. “I figured this might be easier than texting and walking at the same time.”
She clipped her blue tooth earpiece on and slid the phone into her purse, thinking for a moment about calling him on the fact that they were not supposed to be talking outside of work-related topics, then dismissing that idea out of hand. One of the reasons that she and Booth connected so well was because of their natural ability to talk about any variety of subjects. Even if they didn't agree on a topic, the discussion was always lively and enjoyable.
They did end up spending most of the conversation on the case; both agreeing in the end that it was weak and neither voicing that they weren't necessarily in a rush to close the case given the decisions that would have to be made shortly thereafter.
“Oh, good, come here,” he put his hand firmly on her lower back while simultaneously snatching the report from her hand.
“Booth!” she batted at his arm. “What are you doing?”
He opened it up, slapped it on the copier and pushed the button, then proceeded to do the same with the rest of the pages.
“Ooh, good,” he murmured as he scanned the copied pages. “Very good.”
“What is very good?” she demanded, arms crossed.
“You've got lots of the jibber-jabber in here,” he grinned at her. “Caroline will love that; or at least, she'll ignore it, but count it as something. As opposed to my report, which she called nothing.”
“Ah,” she nodded in understanding. “I presume this means you will want to do all of the talking?”
“You got it, Babe,” he winked, then collected all of the pages and strode toward the conference room.
“Booth,” she complained, skipping to catch up with him, “you need to stop referring to me as an infant, especially in the workplace!”
“I'll wear you down,” he turned around so that he was walking backwards and facing her, then mimed the next word, “Baby.”
“What was that, Cherie?” Caroline's voice boomed from behind Booth.
“Ahh,” he yelped, whipping around.
“Much as I hate to break up this love fest,” the prosecutor went on, “we do have a case to solve. You wanna give me that report, or keep clutching it like a security blanket?”
Brennan chuckled while Booth scowled and launched into their report, handing over Brennan's findings. Caroline was only marginally impressed and had more to say about the choices the couple was considering than the case. Though she did warn them both that she wanted the case wrapped up as “tight as a drum” before leaving in her usual dramatic fashion.
Booth and Brennan stood by the elevator, once again using idle conversation to prolong her inevitable departure. When the doors closed, blocking him from her sight, she once again questioned whether her metaphorical heart could remain intact if they were separated for an entire year. The thought that she had become so dependent on another person for her own happiness both frightened her on one level, and on another brought her an odd sense of comfort and security she hadn't felt since she was a small child.
Somewhere between the Hoover and the Jeffersonian, she realized that another conundrum faced her: since she had stayed overnight at Booth's and he had brought her to the lab she was without a vehicle. Her first thought was that this would give her a legitimate reason to see him again tonight, but the part of her that wished to remain true to the spirit of their agreement won out in the end.
All transportation thoughts fled, however, when she reached her office and found that she had a visitor waiting for her patiently on her couch.
“Booth's at the Hoover,” she informed him after they'd exchanged greetings.
“I know,” Hank Booth flashed a very familiar smile at her. “I'm not here to see him, though.”
“Oh,” she said, taking a seat beside him when he patted the cushion. “I see.”
“Do you?” the old man prodded.
“To be honest, no,” she shook her head. “Did we have an appointment I forgot to meet? Is there something you wish to inform me of that you don't want Booth to know? Perhaps you'd like me to further clarify the treatment plan your doctor laid out for you?”
“Seeley called me earlier today,” he said forthrightly, “he wanted my advice on some decisions you two have to make.”
“And he asked you to speak to me as well?” she hypothesized, feeling slightly upset.
“No,” Hank assured her, laying a tender hand on her arm. “He has no clue I'm here and would probably kick my ass if he knew since I took a cab.”
They shared a laugh, “Yes, he would.” She eyed him warily, “Why are you here?”
“Didn't you listen to what I said?” he asked. “I'm here to help. This isn't some lightweight thing you're considering so I figured you'd need a sounding board too.”
She nodded and found herself admitting, “Booth usually fills that capacity.”
“I figured as much,” Hank grunted. “Well, Sweetheart, I'm a little bit more grizzled and don't cut nearly the figure that that grandson of mine does, but I'm a Booth; and I'd be honored to listen to whatever's on your mind if you'll have me.”
“Why?” she needed to know, fighting back a sudden rush of emotion.
“He loves you,” came the simple reply.
Ever so slowly, through the pinpricks of tears that were as close to the surface as they had ever been, she began unpacking all of the emotional baggage that had been weighing her down since Booth's tumor a year ago. They talked about how the cases affected her on a personal level much more than they ever had before, and about her fears- rational and irrational- concerning her partner and dear friend.
Never in her life had she been more open and honest about her feelings toward Booth, but whether it was because of his familial ties or simply because he truly listened to what she had to say without interjection his opinion every two seconds, she felt safe exposing so much of herself. When she finished, he told her a few anecdotes from his own past concerning choices that he had made that were difficult at the time, and ones that he wished he had chosen differently once he had gained enough life perspective.
They talked about what she thought she would enjoy doing and what her possible options could be. When they'd finished, it was close to dinner time and she offered to treat him to a meal, arguing that it would be something her Booth would insist upon before Hank headed home. With a laugh that shook his entire body, he agreed, telling her he hoped his grandson knew what he was in for.
An hour and a half later, they stood outside of the diner and she called him a cab, though not before eliciting a solemn vow from him that he would call the moment he arrived back at his apartment. With a tight squeeze and a rough kiss on her cheek, he said goodbye and wished her well. It was not until long after the tail lights faded that she walked back to the Jeffersonian, more sure of herself than she had been in quite some time.
After a few emails back and forth with Dr. Albright, where she made her position on the matter clear, she returned to the case at hand, fully focused and ready to coax the truth that she knew lay within the blade marks on Tim Murphy's skull.
“You been here all night?” Cam's voice startled her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see the pathologist bearing a steaming mug of coffee.
“Is it morning?” she asked, fairly certain it was.
“Yes,” Cam confirmed, setting the coffee down for her.
“I've been here all night,” she said, going back to the skull.
Cam then asked if she had found anything and listened closely as Brennan pointed out the relationship of the direction of force versus the direction of impact. She went on to explain that it was a fan's propeller that had caused the wound, recalling the number of fans that had been present at the crime scene. She set the skull down reverently with a small sigh.
“Are you really leaving the Jeffersonian?” Cam asked, confirming that she had received Brennan's late-night email notice.
“Yes,” she nodded, then quickly qualified her answer, “for a year. I can provide you with a list of forensic anthropologists who can do this job.”
“No, Dr. Brennan,” Cam spoke with warmth and wisdom, “you can provide me with a list of forensic anthropologists.”
“I don't know what that means,” she hedged, unsure if what she suspected the pathologist was really saying was true.
The women shared a look: a smile, borne out of a relationship that had begun with animosity, grown to grudging respect, and was now something akin to a professional friendship. As she watched Cam turn and leave the room, Brennan knew she would miss her far more than she had ever thought possible.
Thnx4theGum- Forensic Artist
- Number of posts: 168
Age: 31
Registration date: 2009-09-23
Re: Vanishing Point (by Gum) Rated T
by ohmisskaroline on Sat Jun 19, 2010 5:00 am
Oh my goodness. I've been engrossed in this for about an hour now, and I just wanted to let you know how fantastic I think it is. You're an excellent writer, and your characterizations are very good!
I can't want to read more!
You're an excellent writer, and your characterizations are very good!I can't want to read more!
ohmisskaroline- Newbie
- Number of posts: 4
Age: 23
Registration date: 2010-06-14 -
Re: Vanishing Point (by Gum) Rated T
by Thnx4theGum on Sun Jun 20, 2010 7:22 am
Author's note: And so we come to the final chapter in this little project of mine. It's some of the most fun I've had writing in quite some time, especially weaving in parts of the real finale. It was also a lot of fun to rewatch the episode and enjoy it for the nuances. I can almost quote the thing now, but I love it even more than I did the first time.
I need to thank all of you who have taken the time, not just to read but to review as well. Getting feedback really stirs my muse and feels like a little reward at the same time. I've also really loved getting feedback and chatting with you guys on Twitter. A big thanks too to GreysIsTheCatsPajamas for being an awesome sounding board and idea generator along the way. If you haven't read her stuff, you MUST. It rocks! *Pen Toast*
Without further ado, please enjoy my last offering.
Gum
Chapter 16: The Vanishing Point
He scanned the concourse for her and immediately spotted her among the cluster of squints there to send her, along with Daisy, off to the Maluku Islands since he'd been stuck on base. What struck him most was how much of a family they'd become in just five years and how seamlessly his Bones now fit in among them.
Ever the silent observer he chose to bide his time, knowing instinctively that her eyes would find him when the time was right. Angela, of course, was the last in the line of well-wishers and their embrace was the tightest. Finally, she looked around and found him. The others might've been surprised or shocked for all he knew, but he only had eyes for her and her eyes told him she was relieved and elated to see him.
His feet carried him swiftly toward her and she met him halfway, dropping her things only once they were together. There were no words left to say, so their hands fused, lips colliding as if unable to resist one another any longer. One of her hands dropped his and ran the length of his crisp fatigues, brushing the flag patch on its way to the back of his neck and through his newly styled hair.
"One year," he panted between kisses. "At the reflecting pool by the-"
"Coffee cart," she finished as if they were one person.
Their lips continued the mantra in their heads: one year- one year- one year- one year-
B&B&B&B&B
He sat bolt upright in bed; body covered in cold sweat and it took him some time to convince himself he wasn't at an airport, but in his bed.
"It was just a dream," he breathed aloud to nobody.
He tried rolling over and burying himself under the covers, but it was no use with the faint scent of her perfume still on his sheets. A groan escaped him as the numbers 4:47 glared mockingly at him from his alarm clock and he knew he'd never get back to sleep at this point.
Clad only in his boxers, he shuffled into the kitchen to start the coffee and poured himself a bowl of cereal. Then he sprawled out on his couch and flipped aimlessly through the channels. At this time of morning it was mostly just infomercials and really bad "B" movies, but he found one called "Mr. Fix-It" that wasn't too bad and stuck with it.
Eventually, the movie ended and the news came on and after a few minutes of listening to the talking heads he decided he'd been patient enough, so he threw on a suit, poured two travel mugs of the still-steaming coffee, and left. As his hands guided the car in the familiar direction, his mind wandered, hoping she wouldn't mind the visit too much since they technically still had 6 of the 24 hours left. He concluded that he didn't care if she did because at the very least he'd get to see her fresh out of bed look and that put a smile on his face in and of itself.
He did, however, value his man parts enough to knock at her door, rather than barge right in.
"Wakey, wakey, Bones!" he called loudly enough to be heard.
There was no reply so he knocked again, frown deepening because he was parked right next to her car so there was no reason for her not to be answering her door. Deciding he had waited long enough, he set down the drinks and the box of doughnuts he'd picked up along the way and went for his keys.
Outside of the low hum of her refrigerator he heard nothing as he stepped cautiously inside.
"Bones?" he called out. "Are you here?"
The silence gave him nothing in return and as he looked around it was soon clear she hadn't been around recently. It was only then that it dawned on him just how she'd gotten to the lab the day before. Without losing any more time, he set down his offerings and whipped out his phone, calling up her number. It had just started to ring when his call waiting sounded, telling him that "Bones" was calling him.
"Hey, Bones," he said casually, ending his original call as he picked hers up, "been out partying all night?"
"No," she answered, confused, "I was at the lab, trying to determine the cause of the blade marks on the victim's skull."
"Yeah, I kinda worked that out myself," he smiled. "I'm here at your place to surprise you with coffee and doughnuts, by the way."
"Oh," she let out a small laugh. "Well, that sounds nice; though it's in clear violation of our 24-hour hiatus agreement."
"Yup," he admitted freely. "Sort of like how you promised me you wouldn't stay at the lab too long, huh?"
"This was important," she insisted, "and for your information, I was calling to let you know I discovered what was used to make the marks."
"Enlighten me," he said, making himself at home on her couch for the time being and sipping at his coffee.
She talked about the direction of force being opposite from the direction of impact, but what it came down to was a propeller. Right away, he remembered all of the fans in Murphy's apartment, and was pleased when she said that that was what she felt it was too.
"I'll call in a tech team and have them pick up the fans," he told her. "You want me to pick up anything for you from your apartment since I'm already here?"
"A change of clothes would be nice, honestly," she said after a moment's consideration.
"Sure," he told her. "I've got your bag that you left at my place too so you'll have all of your makeup and stuff. Anything else?"
She couldn't think of anything and they said their goodbyes so that he could put in his call to the tech team right away and she could send Hodgins and Sweets over as well. What he didn't realize as he jogged back out for her overnight bag, finished his calls, and stepped into her bedroom was exactly what he'd gotten himself into promising to grab a change of clothes for her.
There were two dressers in her room filled with things, along with an entire walk-in closet. His eyes caught sight of a blue blouse that he remembered really liking on her and a little more investigation yielded him the black pants that pulled tight around her curves when she bent over. Black socks were also easy enough to locate.
He was just about to leave with his findings when he realized what he'd forgotten. It took him a few tries, but he finally found her lingerie drawer. Thanking whatever saints were listening, he saw she had them arranged in pairs so he grabbed the nearest one and added it to the bag. He was fairly sure that the shoes she'd had on yesterday would be fine with what he'd picked out so he did a quick sweep of her apartment to make sure all of the lights were off, locked the door behind him, and headed back to the lab.
B&B&B&B&B&B
She was putting the final touches on her most recent findings when Booth sauntered into her office with her bag of clothes, announcing that he'd successfully navigated the depths of her closet, risking life, and limb, and manliness for her. That and the way he melodramatically collapsed onto her couch after depositing two mugs of coffee and a box of doughnuts on the coffee table made it difficult for her to fully conceal her amusement.
"Thank you, Sir Seeley," she teased, snatching up the bag. "I'll be back momentarily."
"Lemme know if you need any help!" he shot back with a feral grin, eyebrows wiggling in a suggestive manner.
The lab was far too busy by now for her to use the decontamination shower, but it did feel good to peel off the clothes she'd been wearing since the previous morning and don new ones. She was impressed with the blouse and pants that he'd selected and very pleased that he'd included a fresh panty set as well. She smiled wryly at the thought of prudish Booth having to finger her lingerie and while the lab was not the place for it, she couldn't wait to question him about it.
By the time she returned to her office, he was sound asleep on her couch. Gently, so as not to disturb him, she draped the blanket over the part of his large frame that it would cover, took the coffee and one of the doughnuts that he'd brought for her, and went back to her desk to work. He grunted slightly, then shifted and was breathing heavily again.
Several minutes later Cam appeared in her doorway, but seeing the slumbering agent motioned her outside. Hodgins and Sweets, it appeared, had discovered pictures of the victim and his partner in one of the travel books on his shelf that suggested they were romantically involved. The fans were currently being dusted for fingerprints, but already one had been found containing her prints as well as his; and in a location that would suggest it was used as a weapon.
Brennan thanked the pathologist, then returned to her office. Booth was groggy, but awake, and after a doughnut and few swigs of coffee he called Caroline to secure the warrant. Once that was done, they left the lab and went to arrest Elaine Akusta. The arrest was without incident and the confession swift.
"So, Bones," he said when they had gone back to his office after the interrogation was complete, "only one hour to go."
"I-I've made my decision already," she admitted haltingly, a small part of her still wondering if it was the correct one for both of them.
"Yeah," his shoulders slumped slightly. "Me too."
B&B&B&B&B&B
Once all of the urgent paperwork for Caroline was cleared, they were free to leave with the understanding that if their full, richly detailed, reports were not on her desk by the weekend, Booth would be castrated. Not fully trusting himself to drive, Booth suggested that they walk and once again they found themselves on the same bench they had occupied less than 24 hours before.
"Before we begin I have a question," Brennan said cautiously, waiting for his inviting nod before she continued. "Do you feel as if our partnership has held you back in any way?"
"Of course not, Bones," he said adamantly. "Why, do you?"
"No," she shook her head. "I feel that our partnership has enriched us both, but it was suggested and I wanted your opinion."
There was a pregnant pause as they each waited for the other to speak.
"I'll go first," Booth volunteered, taking up her hand and meshing their fingers together. "I've decided to take the teaching post at Quantico. I'll be doing pretty much the same thing I would be for the Army, but without having to put up with sand, and uncomfortable beds, and drab uniforms; not to mention, they won't touch my hair."
That earned him a smile from the beautiful woman beside him who added knowingly, "You stayed for Parker."
"Yeah," he said softly, releasing a long sigh. "I'm only half the dad I want to be for him now, and to leave him for a whole year..." he shook his head. "In the end I couldn't justify leaving for that long and putting myself in that much danger when the same thing was made available to me right down the road."
"You're a good father, Booth," she reassured him, squeezing his hand tightly. "And a true patriot no matter which branch of the government you serve."
"Thanks, Bones," he smiled warmly.
Suddenly needing to feel the strength of her embrace, he folded her into his arms and held onto her for a long moment. All too soon they separated, another silence falling between them as she prepared to share her decision with him.
"As you know, I've been in contact with Dr. Mark Albright, the project's chief coordinator for the past two days," she began. "Yesterday, he invited me to come down and take charge of the project, as I had been advising him already of certain measures that should be taken and equipment that could be used."
Booth nodded, impatient and nervous because she was only telling him everything he already knew.
"After careful deliberation and thought, as well as lengthy discussions with Dr. Albright and his associates, I have accepted the task of Project Coordinator," she said carefully, searching Booth's countenance for his reaction.
His face fell visibly, eyes dropping to the ground in dismay. Their hands were still joined, but his grip slackened noticeably. Had he looked up, he might have seen the sparkle in her eyes, but as it was he was doing his best to appear as supportive of her decision as she had been of his.
"That's, uh, that's great, Bones," he managed, still unable to meet her eyes again. "When do you leave?"
"In two weeks," she said, hiding her own emotions. "There are some other arrangements that need to be made still, plus I have a few outstanding projects with the Jeffersonian that need to be completed first."
"I'm sure you and Daisy will have a good time together," he was really fishing for supportive compliments now. "I'll take you to the airport. And, you know, with technology it shouldn't be too hard to keep in touch."
"No," she smiled, "it shouldn't." Unable to continue misleading him, she cupped his face in her hands and brought his chin up until he met her eyes, "Booth, I won't need you to take me to the airport because I will not be accompanying Ms. Wick."
"You won't?" suddenly he was reengaged in the conversation. "Bones, what aren't you telling me?"
"Just a few details," there was no hiding her almost gleeful expression now.
"Such as?"
"Such as I will be acting as the Project Coordinator for Stateside results," she revealed.
"Stateside, huh," Booth quirked an eyebrow. "Where, exactly?"
"Old Dominion University," she informed him. "They've offered the use of their research facilities; something the Jeffersonian could not do, due to the high volume of use they already have. Old Dominion's equipment is just as state-of-the-art, they are ideally located for the remains found during the dig to be transported to, and they have generously ceded one of their laboratory areas to my supervision."
"I know that look, Bones," he challenged her. "What else aren't you telling me?"
Her excitement was childlike as she retrieved a brochure from her jacket and handed it to him, pointing out the small map area on the back of it.
"Quantico?" he said incredulously. "How?"
Blue-gray eyes sparkled as she nodded, a broad smile splitting her face, "Old Dominion had already offered the facilities, Booth. All I did was ask if there were any positions open here in the States. I- I will still be coordinating with the team in Maluku via satellite transmissions for the first several months, and I'll be collecting all of the data into marketable reports for the Project's sponsor's and speaking to them in order to further funding. But once the remains are released, they'll be sent to my team and I for further analysis and review."
"Wow," his voice was full of awe, "that's amazing, Bones!"
"I've already informed Dr. Saroyan," she told him, "and thus far, I've only committed to being with the Project for a year. After that, I informed Dr. Albright that I would have to consult with you and reevaluate what we feel our professional partnership should be."
She probably would have proceeded to give him every other detail she and Dr. Albright had discussed, but Booth had other plans for her lips and, buoyed with hope for the future he never thought he'd have with her, he descended on them and kept them busy for several long minutes afterward.
B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B
A week after the Timothy Murphy case closed, there was a tearful goodbye at an airport made by the team from the Jeffersonian as they sent the new Mr. and Mrs. Jack Hodgins on an extended honeymoon to Paris. Neither of them had any desire to break in anyone else in the lab, and Paris was somewhere they had both dreamed of one day living, and a year seemed like a nice long time to live out that dream.
"Booth," Brennan said as they drove away from the airport together, "I've been thinking-"
"Uh oh," he teased.
She smacked his arm, then continued, "It would be highly inefficient for us to commute for an hour each way, daily, even if we are traveling together, so I was wondering if you would be averse to alternative housing arrangements?"
"Alternative?" he questioned.
"Yes," she nodded her head, "There are several properties for rent in the Quantico area that would be suitable for us for the duration of the year that we will be working in that region."
His heart swelled at the gesture she was making and he liked the sound of waking up next to her every day for at least the next year.
"That is," she backtracked, mistaking his silence for disapproval, "unless you don't want to live in sin with me. In which case I understand."
"Live in sin?" he laughed. "Where did you get that, Bones?"
"From the Mass service we attended last week," she frowned. "The priest seemed to frown rather heavily on fornication during his homily."
"Hmm," he grunted. "Well, I've already got a kid outside of wedlock, and you and I have the fornication thing going too, so we might as well live in sin while we're at it."
"You're mocking me," she accused.
"Maybe," he smirked. "But, Bones?"
"Yes, Booth?"
"I'd be more than willing to come home to you every day for as long as you'll have me."
A/N: The "vanishing point" in art terms is the point at which TWO parallel lines appear to converge into ONE.
If anyone would be interested in a sequel to this, please drop a line and let me know. I'm going on vacation for the next week but am toying around with a few ideas IF it's something people would read. Thanks again for all of your feedback!
I need to thank all of you who have taken the time, not just to read but to review as well. Getting feedback really stirs my muse and feels like a little reward at the same time. I've also really loved getting feedback and chatting with you guys on Twitter. A big thanks too to GreysIsTheCatsPajamas for being an awesome sounding board and idea generator along the way. If you haven't read her stuff, you MUST. It rocks! *Pen Toast*
Without further ado, please enjoy my last offering.
Gum
Chapter 16: The Vanishing Point
He scanned the concourse for her and immediately spotted her among the cluster of squints there to send her, along with Daisy, off to the Maluku Islands since he'd been stuck on base. What struck him most was how much of a family they'd become in just five years and how seamlessly his Bones now fit in among them.
Ever the silent observer he chose to bide his time, knowing instinctively that her eyes would find him when the time was right. Angela, of course, was the last in the line of well-wishers and their embrace was the tightest. Finally, she looked around and found him. The others might've been surprised or shocked for all he knew, but he only had eyes for her and her eyes told him she was relieved and elated to see him.
His feet carried him swiftly toward her and she met him halfway, dropping her things only once they were together. There were no words left to say, so their hands fused, lips colliding as if unable to resist one another any longer. One of her hands dropped his and ran the length of his crisp fatigues, brushing the flag patch on its way to the back of his neck and through his newly styled hair.
"One year," he panted between kisses. "At the reflecting pool by the-"
"Coffee cart," she finished as if they were one person.
Their lips continued the mantra in their heads: one year- one year- one year- one year-
B&B&B&B&B
He sat bolt upright in bed; body covered in cold sweat and it took him some time to convince himself he wasn't at an airport, but in his bed.
"It was just a dream," he breathed aloud to nobody.
He tried rolling over and burying himself under the covers, but it was no use with the faint scent of her perfume still on his sheets. A groan escaped him as the numbers 4:47 glared mockingly at him from his alarm clock and he knew he'd never get back to sleep at this point.
Clad only in his boxers, he shuffled into the kitchen to start the coffee and poured himself a bowl of cereal. Then he sprawled out on his couch and flipped aimlessly through the channels. At this time of morning it was mostly just infomercials and really bad "B" movies, but he found one called "Mr. Fix-It" that wasn't too bad and stuck with it.
Eventually, the movie ended and the news came on and after a few minutes of listening to the talking heads he decided he'd been patient enough, so he threw on a suit, poured two travel mugs of the still-steaming coffee, and left. As his hands guided the car in the familiar direction, his mind wandered, hoping she wouldn't mind the visit too much since they technically still had 6 of the 24 hours left. He concluded that he didn't care if she did because at the very least he'd get to see her fresh out of bed look and that put a smile on his face in and of itself.
He did, however, value his man parts enough to knock at her door, rather than barge right in.
"Wakey, wakey, Bones!" he called loudly enough to be heard.
There was no reply so he knocked again, frown deepening because he was parked right next to her car so there was no reason for her not to be answering her door. Deciding he had waited long enough, he set down the drinks and the box of doughnuts he'd picked up along the way and went for his keys.
Outside of the low hum of her refrigerator he heard nothing as he stepped cautiously inside.
"Bones?" he called out. "Are you here?"
The silence gave him nothing in return and as he looked around it was soon clear she hadn't been around recently. It was only then that it dawned on him just how she'd gotten to the lab the day before. Without losing any more time, he set down his offerings and whipped out his phone, calling up her number. It had just started to ring when his call waiting sounded, telling him that "Bones
" was calling him."Hey, Bones," he said casually, ending his original call as he picked hers up, "been out partying all night?"
"No," she answered, confused, "I was at the lab, trying to determine the cause of the blade marks on the victim's skull."
"Yeah, I kinda worked that out myself," he smiled. "I'm here at your place to surprise you with coffee and doughnuts, by the way."
"Oh," she let out a small laugh. "Well, that sounds nice; though it's in clear violation of our 24-hour hiatus agreement."
"Yup," he admitted freely. "Sort of like how you promised me you wouldn't stay at the lab too long, huh?"
"This was important," she insisted, "and for your information, I was calling to let you know I discovered what was used to make the marks."
"Enlighten me," he said, making himself at home on her couch for the time being and sipping at his coffee.
She talked about the direction of force being opposite from the direction of impact, but what it came down to was a propeller. Right away, he remembered all of the fans in Murphy's apartment, and was pleased when she said that that was what she felt it was too.
"I'll call in a tech team and have them pick up the fans," he told her. "You want me to pick up anything for you from your apartment since I'm already here?"
"A change of clothes would be nice, honestly," she said after a moment's consideration.
"Sure," he told her. "I've got your bag that you left at my place too so you'll have all of your makeup and stuff. Anything else?"
She couldn't think of anything and they said their goodbyes so that he could put in his call to the tech team right away and she could send Hodgins and Sweets over as well. What he didn't realize as he jogged back out for her overnight bag, finished his calls, and stepped into her bedroom was exactly what he'd gotten himself into promising to grab a change of clothes for her.
There were two dressers in her room filled with things, along with an entire walk-in closet. His eyes caught sight of a blue blouse that he remembered really liking on her and a little more investigation yielded him the black pants that pulled tight around her curves when she bent over. Black socks were also easy enough to locate.
He was just about to leave with his findings when he realized what he'd forgotten. It took him a few tries, but he finally found her lingerie drawer. Thanking whatever saints were listening, he saw she had them arranged in pairs so he grabbed the nearest one and added it to the bag. He was fairly sure that the shoes she'd had on yesterday would be fine with what he'd picked out so he did a quick sweep of her apartment to make sure all of the lights were off, locked the door behind him, and headed back to the lab.
B&B&B&B&B&B
She was putting the final touches on her most recent findings when Booth sauntered into her office with her bag of clothes, announcing that he'd successfully navigated the depths of her closet, risking life, and limb, and manliness for her. That and the way he melodramatically collapsed onto her couch after depositing two mugs of coffee and a box of doughnuts on the coffee table made it difficult for her to fully conceal her amusement.
"Thank you, Sir Seeley," she teased, snatching up the bag. "I'll be back momentarily."
"Lemme know if you need any help!" he shot back with a feral grin, eyebrows wiggling in a suggestive manner.
The lab was far too busy by now for her to use the decontamination shower, but it did feel good to peel off the clothes she'd been wearing since the previous morning and don new ones. She was impressed with the blouse and pants that he'd selected and very pleased that he'd included a fresh panty set as well. She smiled wryly at the thought of prudish Booth having to finger her lingerie and while the lab was not the place for it, she couldn't wait to question him about it.
By the time she returned to her office, he was sound asleep on her couch. Gently, so as not to disturb him, she draped the blanket over the part of his large frame that it would cover, took the coffee and one of the doughnuts that he'd brought for her, and went back to her desk to work. He grunted slightly, then shifted and was breathing heavily again.
Several minutes later Cam appeared in her doorway, but seeing the slumbering agent motioned her outside. Hodgins and Sweets, it appeared, had discovered pictures of the victim and his partner in one of the travel books on his shelf that suggested they were romantically involved. The fans were currently being dusted for fingerprints, but already one had been found containing her prints as well as his; and in a location that would suggest it was used as a weapon.
Brennan thanked the pathologist, then returned to her office. Booth was groggy, but awake, and after a doughnut and few swigs of coffee he called Caroline to secure the warrant. Once that was done, they left the lab and went to arrest Elaine Akusta. The arrest was without incident and the confession swift.
"So, Bones," he said when they had gone back to his office after the interrogation was complete, "only one hour to go."
"I-I've made my decision already," she admitted haltingly, a small part of her still wondering if it was the correct one for both of them.
"Yeah," his shoulders slumped slightly. "Me too."
B&B&B&B&B&B
Once all of the urgent paperwork for Caroline was cleared, they were free to leave with the understanding that if their full, richly detailed, reports were not on her desk by the weekend, Booth would be castrated. Not fully trusting himself to drive, Booth suggested that they walk and once again they found themselves on the same bench they had occupied less than 24 hours before.
"Before we begin I have a question," Brennan said cautiously, waiting for his inviting nod before she continued. "Do you feel as if our partnership has held you back in any way?"
"Of course not, Bones," he said adamantly. "Why, do you?"
"No," she shook her head. "I feel that our partnership has enriched us both, but it was suggested and I wanted your opinion."
There was a pregnant pause as they each waited for the other to speak.
"I'll go first," Booth volunteered, taking up her hand and meshing their fingers together. "I've decided to take the teaching post at Quantico. I'll be doing pretty much the same thing I would be for the Army, but without having to put up with sand, and uncomfortable beds, and drab uniforms; not to mention, they won't touch my hair."
That earned him a smile from the beautiful woman beside him who added knowingly, "You stayed for Parker."
"Yeah," he said softly, releasing a long sigh. "I'm only half the dad I want to be for him now, and to leave him for a whole year..." he shook his head. "In the end I couldn't justify leaving for that long and putting myself in that much danger when the same thing was made available to me right down the road."
"You're a good father, Booth," she reassured him, squeezing his hand tightly. "And a true patriot no matter which branch of the government you serve."
"Thanks, Bones," he smiled warmly.
Suddenly needing to feel the strength of her embrace, he folded her into his arms and held onto her for a long moment. All too soon they separated, another silence falling between them as she prepared to share her decision with him.
"As you know, I've been in contact with Dr. Mark Albright, the project's chief coordinator for the past two days," she began. "Yesterday, he invited me to come down and take charge of the project, as I had been advising him already of certain measures that should be taken and equipment that could be used."
Booth nodded, impatient and nervous because she was only telling him everything he already knew.
"After careful deliberation and thought, as well as lengthy discussions with Dr. Albright and his associates, I have accepted the task of Project Coordinator," she said carefully, searching Booth's countenance for his reaction.
His face fell visibly, eyes dropping to the ground in dismay. Their hands were still joined, but his grip slackened noticeably. Had he looked up, he might have seen the sparkle in her eyes, but as it was he was doing his best to appear as supportive of her decision as she had been of his.
"That's, uh, that's great, Bones," he managed, still unable to meet her eyes again. "When do you leave?"
"In two weeks," she said, hiding her own emotions. "There are some other arrangements that need to be made still, plus I have a few outstanding projects with the Jeffersonian that need to be completed first."
"I'm sure you and Daisy will have a good time together," he was really fishing for supportive compliments now. "I'll take you to the airport. And, you know, with technology it shouldn't be too hard to keep in touch."
"No," she smiled, "it shouldn't." Unable to continue misleading him, she cupped his face in her hands and brought his chin up until he met her eyes, "Booth, I won't need you to take me to the airport because I will not be accompanying Ms. Wick."
"You won't?" suddenly he was reengaged in the conversation. "Bones, what aren't you telling me?"
"Just a few details," there was no hiding her almost gleeful expression now.
"Such as?"
"Such as I will be acting as the Project Coordinator for Stateside results," she revealed.
"Stateside, huh," Booth quirked an eyebrow. "Where, exactly?"
"Old Dominion University," she informed him. "They've offered the use of their research facilities; something the Jeffersonian could not do, due to the high volume of use they already have. Old Dominion's equipment is just as state-of-the-art, they are ideally located for the remains found during the dig to be transported to, and they have generously ceded one of their laboratory areas to my supervision."
"I know that look, Bones," he challenged her. "What else aren't you telling me?"
Her excitement was childlike as she retrieved a brochure from her jacket and handed it to him, pointing out the small map area on the back of it.
"Quantico?" he said incredulously. "How?"
Blue-gray eyes sparkled as she nodded, a broad smile splitting her face, "Old Dominion had already offered the facilities, Booth. All I did was ask if there were any positions open here in the States. I- I will still be coordinating with the team in Maluku via satellite transmissions for the first several months, and I'll be collecting all of the data into marketable reports for the Project's sponsor's and speaking to them in order to further funding. But once the remains are released, they'll be sent to my team and I for further analysis and review."
"Wow," his voice was full of awe, "that's amazing, Bones!"
"I've already informed Dr. Saroyan," she told him, "and thus far, I've only committed to being with the Project for a year. After that, I informed Dr. Albright that I would have to consult with you and reevaluate what we feel our professional partnership should be."
She probably would have proceeded to give him every other detail she and Dr. Albright had discussed, but Booth had other plans for her lips and, buoyed with hope for the future he never thought he'd have with her, he descended on them and kept them busy for several long minutes afterward.
B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B
A week after the Timothy Murphy case closed, there was a tearful goodbye at an airport made by the team from the Jeffersonian as they sent the new Mr. and Mrs. Jack Hodgins on an extended honeymoon to Paris. Neither of them had any desire to break in anyone else in the lab, and Paris was somewhere they had both dreamed of one day living, and a year seemed like a nice long time to live out that dream.
"Booth," Brennan said as they drove away from the airport together, "I've been thinking-"
"Uh oh," he teased.
She smacked his arm, then continued, "It would be highly inefficient for us to commute for an hour each way, daily, even if we are traveling together, so I was wondering if you would be averse to alternative housing arrangements?"
"Alternative?" he questioned.
"Yes," she nodded her head, "There are several properties for rent in the Quantico area that would be suitable for us for the duration of the year that we will be working in that region."
His heart swelled at the gesture she was making and he liked the sound of waking up next to her every day for at least the next year.
"That is," she backtracked, mistaking his silence for disapproval, "unless you don't want to live in sin with me. In which case I understand."
"Live in sin?" he laughed. "Where did you get that, Bones?"
"From the Mass service we attended last week," she frowned. "The priest seemed to frown rather heavily on fornication during his homily."
"Hmm," he grunted. "Well, I've already got a kid outside of wedlock, and you and I have the fornication thing going too, so we might as well live in sin while we're at it."
"You're mocking me," she accused.
"Maybe," he smirked. "But, Bones?"
"Yes, Booth?"
"I'd be more than willing to come home to you every day for as long as you'll have me."
A/N: The "vanishing point" in art terms is the point at which TWO parallel lines appear to converge into ONE.
If anyone would be interested in a sequel to this, please drop a line and let me know. I'm going on vacation for the next week but am toying around with a few ideas IF it's something people would read. Thanks again for all of your feedback!
Thnx4theGum- Forensic Artist
- Number of posts: 168
Age: 31
Registration date: 2009-09-23
Re: Vanishing Point (by Gum) Rated T
by Pat on Wed Aug 25, 2010 12:51 am
Did you do a sequel? Love this. I write a little but you are really good. Loved every minute.
Pat- Forensic Artist
- Number of posts: 160
Location: on a ranch somewhere in Northern California
Say What You Want: Gun Control: The theory that a woman found dead in an alley, raped and strangled with her own pantyhose, is somehow morally superior to a woman explaining to police how her attacker got that fatal bullet wound.
Registration date: 2010-05-14
Re: Vanishing Point (by Gum) Rated T
by joybrennan on Wed Aug 25, 2010 11:17 am
Yeah - this is what SHOULD have happened. Nice job!
joybrennan- Head of Forensics
- Number of posts: 1532
Age: 36
Location: NYC
Say What You Want: I like to see the roller-coaster before I get on it. I mean, how many loops are we talking here?
Registration date: 2010-03-07
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