Boy at the Building Site by IMLOOPY

Summary:
 

Spoilers: 

Notes: The characters etc don't belong to me, unfortunately, I'm just playing with them, and I promise to put them back where I found them - well, more or less.Nor am I making any money out of this, merely the experience of writing, which is in all senses of the word priceless.

Dr Temperance Brennan, Forensic Anthropologist, stood motionless, her heart beating fast. She braced herself for the attack she knew was coming. If she lost this fight – her mind blanked as she tried to imagine the consequences. This was one battle she could not afford to lose.

Her assailant charged towards her, and she managed to simultaneously block his attack and use his forward motion to send him crashing to the floor. He swung his legs round, trying to knock hers from under her, but she was prepared and jumped back. He was on his feet again in an instant, and back on the offensive. He grabbed her round the neck, and she staggered under his weight. For the moment she feared he had the advantage, but then he shifted grip and she managed to pull his head over her shoulder. He followed in a graceful somersault, landing gasping at her feet.

Again, he was up on his feet faster than she was expecting, and after a couple more moves his superior strength and weight was beginning to show. She was tiring, and running out of ideas. The urgency of her situation struck home to her, and this time she tripped him and landed on top of him. But he grabbed her by the wrists and rolled them both over. Now he was pinning her down. She was struggling to breathe underneath him, but a convulsion of her whole body managed to force him off. She rolled over and back onto her feet, then stood facing him. Both were breathing heavily.

He lunged again, and grabbed her, twisting her round and holding her tightly against himself. She dug an elbow in his stomach and he grunted with pain, but did not release his strong grasp. Desperately, she tried throwing him, but he twisted his body and managed to land on top of her, knocking the wind out of her.

This was it. The end was in sight. In an effort to evade the cost that would surely follow, Brennan frantically searched her memory for any move, anything that might enable her to avoid the inevitable. Then he relaxed slightly, his concentration wavering, and she saw her chance. She threw him away from her, dived on top of him, put him in a leglock and carried out her killer move.

“Hey, Bones, that’s not fair! No tickling!” Booth writhed on the safety mat underneath her, desperate to escape the fingers relentlessly tickling his ribs. She laughed, and continued her assault.

“Do you surrender?”

“What? Yes, yes, I surrender!” he chuckled helplessly, unable to break out of the hold she had him in.

She eased off and moved away, laughing. “I told you I’d win.” She moved to the corner of the dojo and grabbed her bottle of water from the bags lying there.

“Yes, but Bones, that was hardly a legitimate tackle, was it?” he challenged her, propping himself on one elbow and gazing up at her. “After all, in a real fight...”

“In a real fight, I’d have kneed you in the groin,” she pointed out playfully. “I imagined you’d prefer me not to do that?”

He raised his eyebrows, and she saw him blush slightly. “Well, now you come to mention it...”

She put the bottle back in her bag, and held out a hand to help him up. He took it, but used it to pull her down beside him instead. “Are you ticklish?” he asked, holding his hands over her midriff threateningly.

She had just opened her mouth to reply when a mobile phone rang out. They both jumped to their feet and dived for their bags. As Brennan fished for her phone, she cursed the interruption. Just when they were having fun! Although when she thought of the position they had just been in, perhaps it was just as well; she was not sure where they were headed, and right now the thought of finding out made her tremble with fear – and something else she couldn’t identify.

She looked at the phone display; no-one she recognised. She pressed the button. “Brennan,” she snapped briskly into the phone, smirking at Booth who was pretending to be disappointed that it wasn’t his phone ringing.

She listened for a few minutes, asked a couple of questions, then hung up. “Sorry, I’ve got to go,” she told Booth.

“You're just running away because you know I should have won!" he declared. "I demand a rematch!”

She grinned. “I’ve got other killer moves,” she threatened.

“I can’t wait!”

Booth shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket, slung the jacket over his shoulder, grabbed his bag and waited until Brennan had finished her phone call. “So where are you off to?” he asked, forcing himself to sound casual.

“Pittsburgh," she answered, sounding preoccupied. "They just found a child’s skeleton on a building site there. I’ll drive up this afternoon and stay overnight.”

“Anything for me?”

“No, the local police are handling it.”

Bones sorted her bag out, pulling a light sweater over the tee shirt she was wearing, and pulled out her keys. “I guess I’d better go pack a bag,” she said with a sigh.

Booth held the door open for his partner, swinging his bag onto his shoulder. “I’ll see you when you get back then,” he said, a trifle wistfully. “How long will you be away?”

“I’m not sure. Just overnight, I think. I’ll check the bones out in the morgue, see what I can find at first glance, then bring them back to the lab for a proper look.”

“Well, let me know if I can do anything, and I’ll be there.” Booth thought of his current workload, and wondered if he could manage to slip away for a day or so unofficially. It seemed strange for Brennan to be the one away working while he stayed in Washington.

She nodded. “Of course.”

They walked companionably to the parking lot, and he stood with her while she unlocked the car. As she opened the door he was about to speak, but was interrupted again by a phone ringing. They both pulled their phones out, but this time it was Booth’s phone. He grinned at her as he spoke into the phone. “Booth.”

His expression changed as he listened. “What’s the matter?...Why, what about? ...Tonight? ... Well, why can’t you tell me now?... Rebecca!”

He shook his head in irritation. “All right then. What time?...Okay, see you then.”

He flipped the phone shut and frowned. “Rebecca wants to meet me tonight. She wants to talk.” He pulled a face at the last word.

“There’s no problem with Parker, is there?”

“She wouldn’t say what it was about. But knowing Rebecca, it’s not going to be good.” He was silent for a moment, thinking of his ex-girlfriend, the mother of his child. He still wasn’t entirely sure what went wrong with that relationship, but the one thing that had gone right was his son. “Maybe she’s going to muck around with my access to him again.”

“Maybe she’s going to allow you more time with him.”

He gave a short laugh. “And maybe hell’s going to freeze over. No, she holds all the cards on that one; I just have to accept what I’m given and be grateful.”

Bones smiled sympathetically, and to his surprise and pleasure she touched him lightly on the arm. “Good luck with Rebecca,” she said, then climbed into the car.

“Thanks, Bones,” he replied, moved by her concern.

“Don’t forget!” she called through the window to him as she drove away. “You still owe me a lunch!”

Brennan pulled up on a dirt track road just off the main road into town. It was already occupied by several vehicles, including two police cars and a truck. She picked up her bag of equipment and began walking over to where she could see the familiar yellow crime scene tape cordoning off an area by a digger, on the far side of a churned up building site. She was greeted by a middle aged man wearing a scruffy blue suit and a scowl. He held his arm up to block her way. “No sightseers.”

Brennan smiled at him and showed her ID. “Dr Temperance Brennan, of the Jeffersonian Institute. You called me in to look at a body.”

The man looked down at the hand she held out, but made no move to take it. “Oh,” he said. “I’m Ted Harvey, it's my investigation.” He turned back to the crime scene. “This way.”

“Thank you.” She walked with him to a pit in the ground. It looked like they’d been digging foundations for another of the houses she could see all around in various embryonic states. A digger stood nearby, its bucket raised up as if to take another bite from the earth.

She ducked under the tape and jumped down into the pit, placing her bag on the ground beside her and pulling on latex gloves. Various builders and a couple more police officers were standing around staring downwards, and as she moved across the pit she saw what they were looking at. About a foot below the original ground level, sticking out of the side of the pit, was what she immediately recognised as a severed human femur. Next to it, embedded in the side of the pit, was another human leg. A pile of dirt nearby soon yielded the lower part of the severed leg, while at Brennan’s instructions the top layer of dirt was removed from where the rest of the body lay. “A shallow grave,” she commented. “The body would have remained hidden for years, if not for this development.”

Harvey, standing beside her, nodded his surly agreement. “There was a lot of protest over this site,” he commented. He worked quietly and efficiently, helping Brennan recover the body. She carefully took soil samples for Hodgins, then arranged for the body to be taken to the nearby hospital morgue.

“Any ideas?” Harvey asked.

She shook her head. “It’s a boy, around 8-9 years old, Caucasian, and I estimate he's been dead around two years,” she told him. “Anything more will have to wait until I’ve had a chance to look at the body more thoroughly at the morgue. I’ll send it back to the lab for the others to finish the job thoroughly, but I’d like the first look myself.”

Harvey climbed back out of the pit, and Brennan heard him ordering his officers to clear the builders from the area and send them home. One man, who was wearing a hard hat and looked like he was in charge of the site, was protesting loudly, but Harvey would brook no argument. He turned his back on the man and held his hand out to Brennan. She took it gratefully, climbing up the steep sides of the pit. “Good job it’s been dry for the last few days,” she commented. He just grunted.

“I’d like to talk to whoever first discovered the body,” Brennan told him.

Harvey shook his head. “Sorry, that’s out of the question.” He turned away.

Brennan caught his arm. “I’m sorry?” Seeing his frown, she continued, “It’s important for me to talk to him about what he first saw, how he was working, I need to find out whether the femur was broken before the digger went through it, for example.”

“I’m sorry, Ms Brennan, but that’s our job. Yours is just to look at the body and give us an identity.” He turned and strode away, leaving Brennan spluttering with indignation.

Just as she was about to approach him again, he turned back to her. “I’ve arranged a room at the Emperion Hotel in town,” he told her. “It ought to be up to your standards.” He looked her up and down. Suddenly Brennan had had enough of him.

“I’ll make my own arrangements, thank you,” she snapped. She looked back along the main road. Not far away was a rather seedy looking motel. “I’ll stay there.”

He looked surprised, then sneered slightly. "If that's what you'd prefer," he said curtly.

Brennan turned away, carried her things back to the car and got in. She drove off without a word.

By the time she had pulled into the forecourt of the motel she was beginning to have second thoughts; the weeds around the edges of the parking lot and the grime on the windows of the buildings made her think longingly of the comfort of a hotel, but the idea of retreating after her stand against Harvey was anathema to her. She resolutely marched over to the office.

“Hello,” beamed the chubby man behind the desk. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

Brennan smiled, feeling a little more at ease. She explained to the man that she wanted a room for the night, and he cheerfully handed over a key to her, and offered to carry any bags she had.

“Don’t worry, I can manage,” she assured him. As he watched her write her name in the registration book, his eyes lit up. “Dr Brennan? Dr Temperance Brennan?”

“That’s right.” Brennan was amused that he seemed to recognise her name. He reached under the desk and pulled out a well-thumbed copy of Bred in the Bone. “I love your book, Dr Brennan. I wonder, could I ask you to...?”

She nodded. “Of course. What do you want me to write?”

“To Charlie, please.” He seemed genuinely excited to have met her.

“There you go, Charlie,” she said, scribbling a message in the book. “I’m glad you enjoy it.”

“When are you writing another one?” he asked.

“I’m working on it at the moment,” she said. “Well, between cases.”

“Oh yes, the body at the building site.” Charlie’s face fell for a moment. “Awful shame, isn’t it?”

She nodded and left him admiring his newly signed book, while she made her way to her room. She left her bag of clothes on the bed, then headed back to the car to find the hospital morgue.

Two hours later she was back at the motel, after a good session on the body. She’d pulled as much information as she could with limited resources, enough for Harvey to start working to identify the victim. Surly as the police officer was, she had to admit that he seemed efficient at arranging for the retrieval of the body and use of the morgue facilities.

She had arranged for the body to be sent back to the lab, where the rest of the squint squad could make use of the better facilities. She intended to do some writing, get some sleep, then spend the morning carrying out a more thorough investigation of the site where the body was found, before heading back to the lab herself.

But as she sat cross-legged on the bed with her laptop, she found the words would not come. As hard as she tried to write the next chapter of her novel, she found the action and adventure she was meant to write kept coming out too slushy. All she could think of was Booth, and how it had felt to sit on top of him, and have him at her mercy. She grinned to herself as she thought of the expression on his face when she had begun tickling him. What had begun as an argument about who would win in a fight between them had turned into a fun session together, until it was interrupted.

With a sigh, she closed her laptop and gazed across the room. She idly picked up the tv remote and started flicking channels. When she came across one channel, she recognised the name of the program about to start. Booth had mentioned it a few times. She settled back on her bed to watch it, wondering if he was doing the same back in Washington. She leaned back against the headboard, pulling the hard pillows around to make herself comfortable, and absentmindedly picked one up and hugged it to herself. Some time later, she woke to find her back was stiff, and dragged herself up to get undressed and into bed properly.

When Booth first woke up he struggled to remember where he was. Then a hard lump underneath him was revealed as a large toy car, and he realized that he had fallen asleep sprawled across the bed Parker slept in at his apartment. He groaned and pulled himself upright, rubbing a crick in his neck.

The bedroom felt empty, the floor clear and all toys, except the offending car, stored tidily in the large toy chest against the wall under the window. Booth stared round as if seeing the room for the first time, then shook his head, trying to clear it, and stretched. He shed his shirt as he walked down the hallway, then stripped in the bathroom and had a hot shower and shave. A few minutes later his body felt a little better, but his mind was still as clouded as ever.

He reached for a comfortable pair of jeans and a casual shirt, although he normally wore a suit to work. He was only scheduled to catch up with some long-overdue paperwork today; let Cullen complain if he didn’t like it.

Booth grabbed some breakfast, then set out for work. Something definitely felt out of place to him. He was startled out of his thoughts when he realized he had driven to the Jeffersonian instead of to the Bureau. He pulled up in a parking space and sat for a moment, gazing at nothing. Then he figured that since he was there he might as well walk in and say hello.

“Morning, Booth,” Angela greeted him cheerfully as she saw him enter the lab. “Brennan’s not here right now.”

“I know,” he answered. “She’s still in Pittsburgh, I assume.”

Angela gave him a curious look, as if she was wondering how he knew where Brennan was. Then she nodded. She indicated the raised platform in the center of the lab. “The body they found was shipped here overnight. We’re just working on an ID right now.”

“So she’ll be back soon,” he mused.

“Yes. Angela looked at him closely. “Did you want her for something? Zack might be able to help.”

“Oh, no, nothing in particular.” He avoided the question, and asked about the Pittsburgh case instead.

“It’s a boy, about eight years old. He was killed, probably by suffocation, around two years ago,” Angela told him. “He was buried in a shallow grave on a bit of rough ground. When they started building on the land the body turned up.”

“Not my jurisdiction, I understand.”

“Nothing to suggest that so far, sorry.” Angela indicated the papers in her hand. “I’ve just finished this lot, so I’ve got five minutes. Want some coffee?”

“Thanks,” he said, and the two of them went into her office with steaming mugs.

“Something’s wrong, sweetie, isn’t it?” Angela said shrewdly, looking at him over the top of her coffee.

Booth shrugged and drank. “I just wondered when Bones was back in town,” he said evasively. “I wanted to talk to her about something.”

“You could ring her,” Angela suggested.

Booth shook his head. “What for? I don’t want to interrupt.”

“We’ll see about that,” Angela said. She picked up the phone on her desk and dialed. “Hi Brennan,” she said cheerfully when it was answered at the other end. “How’s it going? Oh, okay. We were just wondering what time you’d be back. Oh – oh, I see. Hang on, there’s someone here you might want to talk to.”

She held the receiver out to Booth. He took it uncertainly. “Booth,” he said.

“Booth, hi, what are you doing there?” Did she sound pleased to hear from him? He hoped so.

“What’s new?” he asked her.

“We’ve found another body,” she told him. “Another boy, around the same age, dead about six months. Booth – I’m a bit concerned. The guy in charge here doesn’t seem to be very thorough – he was ready to let the builders start working again. It was only when I poked around a bit by myself that I found another shallow grave. I’m practically fighting with him to preserve the scene properly.”

“Let me know if you find grounds for me claiming jurisdiction,” he suggested, feeling uneasy. “My hands are tied otherwise. I suppose this means you won’t be back just yet?”

“No, I’m stuck here for another night at least.”

“Okay, be careful.”

He hung up the phone and looked at Angela. “Tell me you can get me on that case,” he pleaded.

“We’re working on the ID,” Angela assured him. “If we find out anything I’ll give you a call, okay?”

“Okay, thanks.” Booth took a last mouthful of his coffee. “I really ought to be getting to work, I suppose.”

He got back in his car, made a sudden decision, and pulled out of the parking lot in the direction of Pittsburgh.

Several times on the road he very nearly turned back, and once he got as far as signaling to turn off the road, but each time he thought of Brennan he kept going. He made good time, and found the building site where the bodies had been found around lunchtime. He parked up and wandered past the unmanned crime scene tape over to where he recognized Bones crouching to the ground and arguing with a man who stood over her.

“Booth!” she said as she straightened up and saw him. “What are you doing here?”

He gave her a sheepish grin. “I owe you a lunch, remember?”

She indicated the man with her. “This is Ted Harvey. He’s in charge of the case.”

“This is your boyfriend, is it?” Harvey grunted. “I suppose you’re off to lunch then. I’ll get it sorted here, don’t worry.”

“He’s not my...” Bones began but Harvey was already a few strides away from them. She turned to Booth and raised her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “What are you really doing here?” she asked curiously.

“I guess it’s my gut telling me I’m needed,” he answered. “Talking of my gut - come on, let’s eat, I’m starving.”

He took her arm and pulled her away from the site. They both got into his car, and he twisted backwards to reverse the car back to the main road, resting his arm on the back of her seat as he did so. “Know anywhere decent to eat around here?” he asked.

“There’s a diner down the road, just past the motel. Their food is pretty decent, and it’s close. I don’t trust him, Booth. He’ll ruin the evidence. He needs to shut that site down until it’s all been checked over.”

“I know,” Booth tried to soothe her as he drove. “I’m sure he’ll be okay for an hour or so. And you need to eat; I know you.”

She reluctantly sat back in her seat as he drove them to the diner, which was within walking distance of the motel. They took a seat at the bar and ordered food. Just as they were finishing up the meals Booth’s phone rang. He flicked it open. “Booth.”

“Hi, sweetie.”

He smiled. No mistaking that caller for anyone else. “Hi yourself, Angela, you found anything interesting?”

“We sure did. How does a kidnap victim from out of state sound to you?”

“It sounds like a chance to claim jurisdiction. Angela, you’re a real angel.”

He heard her laugh on the other end, and next to him he could tell Bones had stiffened and was paying close attention. He shifted the phone so she could hear.

“The kid was kidnapped from Youngstown, on the road to Cleveland. His mother still lives there.”

“Could you send the file to the police station in Pittsburgh?” He gave her the details.

“Okay, sweetie, consider it done. I’d better call Brennan, before she gets mad at me telling you first.”

“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll tell her,” Booth said. “I think she’s gathered the gist of it.”

“Hi Ange,” said Bones into the phone.

Angela burst out laughing. “Oh, God, Booth! You went there! You turned up in Pittsburgh? What did she say? Was she very mad with you?”

“Actually, she was quite pleased to see me – at least after I dragged her away from work and put some food in front of her.”

“Oh, well, have fun kids, keep us up to date!” Angela hung up, leaving Booth grinning into the phone.

He looked at Brennan. “Well, I guess I just got jurisdiction on this case. Finish eating, and we’ll go and relieve your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Brennan retorted hotly. “Oh, I see, you’re trying to get a rise from me.”

Booth grinned broadly. “You’re getting the idea, Bones,” he said.

Brennan strode alongside Booth back to the car, looking sideways at him as they walked. It had been a pleasant surprise when he had turned up earlier, just as she had been missing him and wishing that he could be involved in the investigation. It was purely for the case, she told herself; she had genuine reservations about the way Harvey was handling things, and it just felt better working with someone she knew and trusted.Somehow, though, she wasn’t entirely convinced by her own arguments.

Booth said very little as they headed for the police station, where they found Harvey sitting amongst a pile of paperwork. Booth showed him his badge. “We’ve had confirmation of identity,” he informed the investigator. “It’s a kidnap victim from out of state, and I’m taking over the investigation as of now.”

Harvey looked past him at Brennan. “Your boyfriend is an FBI agent?” he said.

Brennan opened her mouth to correct him, but changed her mind and smiled sweetly. “Yes,” she said. “My boyfriend is an FBI agent.” Booth looked across at her, but made no comment. She had a feeling he was storing it up for later though.

They flicked through the files. “Jason Swift,” said Booth, reading the name. “Mother is Rachel Swift.” He looked up in surprise. “The kidnapper was the boy’s father, Ryan.”

“Divorce?” asked Brennan.

He nodded. “He had regular access, but apparently decided it wasn’t enough. No indication that he was likely to hurt the boy though.”

“I guess we talk to the mother.” said Brennan. They headed back for the car.

The journey was spent mostly in small talk, and Brennan giving Booth the information on the site where the bodies were found. They pulled up outside a typical small family house. “No sign of any other kids,” Brennan commented.

“The file says the victim was an only child,” Booth agreed. “I wonder if she remarried, or is still divorced.”

They walked together up to the front door, and Booth knocked. After a few minutes the door was opened by a well-dressed tall blonde woman who looked at them curiously.

Booth showed her his badge. “FBI. Are you Mrs Swift? May we come in?”

“What’s this about?” A sudden thought struck her. “Jason? You’ve found Jason?” She looked eagerly at their faces, and must have read her answer there, because she dropped to her knees and began to weep. Brennan stepped forward and put her arms round the woman’s shoulders. She and Booth helped her into the lounge, where she sank into a chair.

After a few minutes her sobs died away and she wiped her eyes and looked up at her visitors. “I’m sorry,” she managed. “I’ve dreaded this news, but I always told myself that he would be looking after him okay, and one day he’d find his way back.”

“Mrs Swift,” said Booth. “Could you tell us more about the boy’s father?”

She stood up and went over to one of the shelves that lined the wall. She pulled out a photo album and brought it back, then sat down flicking through the pages. She showed Booth and Brennan photo after photo of a dark-haired boy playing with a man. The family resemblance was unmistakeable.

“He worshiped him,” she said sadly. “How did he die?”

“We found your son buried in a shallow grave in Pittsburgh,” Booth explained gently. “We believe he’d been suffocated. We're sorry for your loss.”

“How long ago?”

“We found him yesterday. He died around two years ago.”

She looked up in surprise. “He disappeared two years ago,” she said. “He’s been dead all the time? I can’t believe it!”

“Do you think it was Ryan?”

She frowned, and took her time before answering. “I didn’t think he would ever hurt him. But maybe – he was so upset when I wouldn’t let him see Jason anymore, he said he’d find a way to get him back, I thought he meant get custody, but maybe he meant to take him away from me a different way. He took him from school one afternoon, and I never saw either of them again.”

“Why did you stop him seeing Jason?” Booth asked.

“He was always criticising the way I brought Jason up. He was always making snide remarks. The poor boy found it so hard. He got upset whenever Ryan came for him, then he’d get upset again when it was time to come back. I felt it was too much for him. I never imagined he was in physical danger though, or I’d have kept him away long before.”

“We don’t know it was his father,” Booth pointed out.

“Well then where is he?” the mother demanded. “Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn't he report him missing himself?”

Booth just shook his head. “We’ll let you know as soon as we find out more.”

He stood to leave. Brennan looked up at him, surprised they were leaving so soon. He looked at her and shook his head, and she reluctantly followed him out of the house and back to the car.

He dug his keys out of his pocket, then threw them at her. “You can drive.”

“Thanks.” She waited for some explanation, but none came. Booth sat in the passenger seat, slumped down, and stared out of the window.

She allowed him his silence for a while, but began to feel it pressing down on her. “So when are you going to tell me why you really came?” she asked.

“I came to help you on the case.”

“And because...?”

“Not now, Bones,” he muttered.

“What did Rebecca want?”

She could tell that hit home by his reaction. He slumped down further in his seat. “Give me some time, Bones, please.”

"All right then, what happens next? We look for the father, right?"

"It's not the father." Booth's voice was flat, without expression.

Brennan found herself feeling irritated. "You can't make that sort of assumption at this point. Anthropologically..."

"Oh forget your theory, just this once, Bones." Booth's anger came through clearly. "The father loved the boy. There's no reason to assume he would harm him in any way."

"You have no evidence for that. Then why would the mother...?"

"Because some women are like that. They make snap decisions, not considering the real needs of the child, and get surprised when the father gets upset and does something stupid."

Brennan considered that very carefully. Clearly there was something going on here that she was unaware of. Not wanting to annoy her partner to the stage where he felt unable to confide in her, she changed the subject and filled him in on the second body they'd found. Dead about six months, the boy was about the same age as Jason, and he, too, looked like he'd been suffocated.

"Do you think they're linked?" Bones suggested.

Booth shrugged. "That seems far more likely than the coincidence of two separate murders in the same area," he said. "Which backs up my theory that the boy's father was not involved." He sat staring out of the window, seeming reluctant to continue the conversation. Brennan decided to let him have the time he obviously needed to think through whatever was upsetting him.

By the time they reached Pittsburgh it was starting to get dark, and Brennan was hungry. “Did you bring an overnight bag?” she asked hopefully.

He nodded. “I always have one in the car.”

“Do you want to check into the motel where I’m staying?”

“You’re staying in a motel? Doesn’t sound like you.”

“Well, Harvey booked me into a hotel in town, but he was so strong on the alpha male domination attempt that I took exception to him organising me like that, and booked into the motel. It’s not too bad a place really, and very close to the building site. The owner’s nice.”

Booth grunted. Brennan took that as a yes, and drove to the motel, parking Booth’s car neatly on the forecourt. “If you go and book yourself in, I’ll walk down the road and fetch my car,” she told him.

When she got back a few minutes later Booth was just entering the room next to hers, carrying his black bag. “Give me five minutes, then we’ll go get some food,” she suggested.

He nodded and managed a smile. “I’m sorry, Bones, I know I’m not very good company at the moment.”

“Well how about you talk to me over dinner?” she suggested, linking her arm through his. He seemed surprised at the contact, but squeezed her arm gently in his.

“That sounds a very good idea,” he admitted with a sigh.

Booth entered the motel room and threw his overnight bag onto the bedspread. He looked round the room, taking in the threadbare green carpet and the broken blinds on the window. Strange place for Bones to choose, he thought, but if she was next door he would put up with it. He met Bones outside. “Where do you want to eat?” he asked her.

“There’s a restaurant round the block,” she told him. “They have decent Italian food.”

He rubbed his hands together. “Sounds good to me. I’m starving.”

She laughed. They walked to the restaurant and were soon tucking into pasta. Booth refused to say anything meaningful until after they had finished. Then they moved to the bar next door and Brennan had a glass of wine, while he sat nursing a beer.

He looked over the top of his glass at her. “Rebecca says she’s moving,” he said suddenly.

“Does this mean you’re moving too?” she asked, looking concerned.

He shook his head. “There’s no point. She’s moving to get away from me.”

She was silent for a moment. “Why the hell would she do that?” she asked finally.

Booth stared into his beer. “She thinks it’s bad for Parker to keep seeing me. She thinks it upsets him too much. She’s scared that something will happen to me and it would break his heart.”

“Oh, and it wouldn’t break his heart to stop seeing you?” she scoffed.

Booth loved her for that. “You don’t have to convince me,” he pointed out. “For some stupid reason she’s got it into her head that I’m bad for Parker and nothing I say will change that.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Bones asked him.

“I honestly don’t think there’s anything I can do. I don’t want to upset him, Bones. If I try to fight her on this he’s the one who’ll get hurt.”

“He’s going to be hurt anyway. And so are you. You can’t just let her take him out of your life, Booth. I know how much he means to you.”

“I don’t have any choice. She wouldn’t marry me, Bones. I don’t have any control in the situation, I only have whatever crumbs she lets me have. I’ve had a part in his life for four years. It’s going to hurt, losing him, but I don’t see any other option that wouldn’t hurt far more.” He looked up at her. “I’m not giving up on him, Bones. I just can’t think of anything that would help, right now.”

Brennan moved her seat closer to him, and laid her hand on his arm. “Believe me, Booth,” she said quietly. “Nothing you could do could possibly hurt as much as leaving his life without him understanding why.”

“He’s too young, Bones. He won’t understand.”

“Which is why you have to stick around.”

He stood up, slammed his beer on the table. “It’s not me who’s leaving, remember!”

“Hey, calm down, I know,” she soothed him, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down. She smiled at a man nearby who looked ready to jump to her defence.

Booth settled back down. “I’m sorry. I just feel so helpless.”

“I know. But there must be something. Have you tried mediation?”

“She won’t have anything to do with that. She reckons she’s in sole charge of Parker and I don’t have any say in the matter.”

“That’s cruel and heartless.”

He gave a short laugh. “That’s Rebecca for you!”

He walked to the bar and fetched another round of drinks. “Anyway,” he said, sitting down again and trying to smile. “I didn’t know your boyfriend was an FBI agent.”

He loved it when Brennan blushed. “It didn’t seem worthwhile to correct him,” she ventured.

“So, tell me about him. Do I know him? Hey, I might even work with him.”

Brennan picked up her wine and drank. “Thanks for the drink and dinner,” she said.

“You’re changing the subject, Bones.”

“You changed it first!”

He laughed. “I’ll try and talk to Rebecca again when we get back, I promise. Maybe I can get her to see sense. I have to admit, when she told me last night I just kind of yelled at her. I guess it didn’t help my case much, right?” He tilted his head and looked at her slightly sideways. She put her arm on his shoulder, and he smiled at her. The pain at the thought of losing Parker was still there, but he felt better for having confided in Brennan. He had been aware of a nasty feeling at the back of his stomach that maybe Rebecca was right; maybe having a father in law enforcement wasn’t the steadiest of lives for a four year old. But Bones accepted it without question; worked in the same field herself. Somehow her quiet acceptance of him made it easier for him to demand the same sort of acceptance from Rebecca, at least where Parker was concerned.

The conversation turned to lighter subjects, and before they knew it the evening had turned to late night. Bones looked at her watch. “We’d better head to bed, I suppose,” she said lightly.

Booth jumped. How could she...? He laughed at himself. You idiot, Booth, get a hold of yourself. That wasn’t what she meant. They walked together as far as the motel, Booth resting his hand lightly in the middle of her back. When they reached Brennan’s door, they stopped, and she stood looking at him. “Thank you for the meal, and for the evening,” she said softly.

Booth held his breath. “Thank you for listening,” he said, and he bent to kiss her.

Brennan jumped back, as if his move had been to slap her. “I don’t...” she stammered.

“I’m sorry, I thought...” Booth’s voice trailed off, as he cursed himself to hell and back for making such a stupid move.

“No, it’s just...” Brennan seemed to be fighting for words. She looked up at him, her head tipped forward slightly, and he could see tears glistening in her eyes. “You’ve been drinking. I’ve been drinking. And you’re upset. I don’t – I don’t want to be your consolation prize, Booth. I don’t want you to kiss me because we’re both slightly drunk and because you think I can make you feel better. I don’t...”

He put his hand to her cheek. “I’m sorry, Temperance,” he said gently. “I didn’t try to kiss you because I’m drunk, because I’m not, and I know you can make me feel better, because you do whenever I’m with you. But if you’re not ready, then I’ll wait. Because you’re worth the wait.”

He watched her let herself in her door without looking back over her shoulder, then went to his own room. Shutting the door behind him with more force than was strictly necessary, he picked his bag off the bed and hurled it against the back wall of the room, then threw himself on the bed. It hurt, more than he could have imagined. He was sure Brennan had feelings for him, but he knew she needed more time to get used to the idea of a relationship, and now because he was upset with Rebecca and because he’d been drinking, he’d blown it all. How could he be so stupid? His mind racing, he lay on the bed staring at the ceiling. Suddenly he couldn’t bear to stay in one place. He changed into a tracksuit and running shoes, and headed out of the door. When he felt like this there was only one thing that had ever felt right; running until he could run no more, until he had run all the anger and fear and hurt out of himself.

He had lost count of the pairs of running shoes he had worn out since his last tour of duty.

Brennan let herself in her motel room, and shut the door gently behind her. She rested her head on the door and felt the anger prickle behind her eyes. It wasn’t fair! She was just feeling comfortable with Booth. She had begun to convince herself that she was ready to take things further, then when he made the first move she froze up and acted as though he was trying to attack her.

She heard a bang from next door, as if Booth had thrown something. The bang felt like a physical hurt to her. She walked over to the bed, looked at her laptop resting on the table next to it, and pondered whether to try writing before bed, or to have another read through the preliminary results the squint squad had sent to her earlier.

She sat down on the edge of the bed. Or she could stop hiding behind work or her writing and go and see Booth and apologise, and see if there was any way of reviving their partnership after her behaviour, she scolded herself.

Brennan stood up and moved towards the door, but as she did so she heard the slam of another door. Peering out of the window she saw Booth leaving his room. Her heart sank as she thought for a moment that he was going to get into his car and drive away. But he moved past the car, and as he moved under the light of the office she saw that he had changed into running clothes. She moved back and pulled the covers off the bed. Kicking off her shoes, she arranged the pillows around her back and sat staring into space, wondering what to do. The rational side of her insisted that he would try again, that he knew she was attracted to him and that she had simply panicked. Another small voice in her head told her that he’d have to be crazy to try anything around her again and risk another rejection.

She stood up, having made a decision. She found a piece of paper and wrote a message on it. Then she pushed it under Booth’s door, where he would find it when he got back from his run. She sat up on the bed intending to wait for him to return. And she found herself still sitting there, fully dressed, in the morning.

When Brennan woke up she remembered immediately what had happened the night before, and she groaned aloud. How could she have been so stupid? How did Booth feel about her this morning? She remembered the note she had left him. She had intended to go and speak to him when he got back, once he’d read the note, but falling asleep had prevented that, and now she had no idea how he felt about her.

She stood up and stretched, trying to work the kinks out of her back. She stared over at the window, but was too scared to go over to it. What if she looked out and Booth’s car wasn’t there? What if he’d come back and gone straight home? What if he’d read her note and then gone home?

Her phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. She picked it up. “Brennan.”

“Sweetie, it’s me.”

She smiled. “Hi Angela, it’s good to hear from you.”

“Are you all right? You sound kind of strange.”

“I’m fine. Just – I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“And how’s Booth? Did he sleep okay?”

“Angela!” Brennan could not help laughing. “You’re incorrigible, you know that, don’t you?”

“Well, I have to try. Listen, we’ve got more results on the first body for you. The second body just got here half an hour ago, Hodgins and Zack are just squabbling over who gets first go.”

“Okay, good. Listen, tell me the news then.” She listened carefully.

When she had finished talking to Angela, she looked at the phone in her hand. It was no good postponing it, she had to go and face Booth sometime, and the longer she left it the worse she would feel about it. Summoning up all her courage while she had a shower and changed, she then headed next door.

She found Booth already up and half-dressed. “Come in,” he invited her. She hovered on the doorstep, nervously.

“It’s all right, I won’t bite,” he reassured her. “I won’t even try to kiss you without your permission again, okay?”

She gave a small smile. Looking around the room, she spotted her note sitting on his bedside table. He followed her gaze, and smiled. “You write well,” he commented. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, since you’ve written a best seller and all.”

“I always did express myself better on paper,” she admitted. “I’m really sorry about last night, honestly I am.”

“No problem. I've told you, I'm happy to wait until you feel you're ready.”

“Thank you," she said quietly. "Angela called.”

“Oh. Anything interesting?”

“They came up with more about the first body. Do you want me to tell you the details?”

“Only the condensed version, please. I don’t need all the scientific minutiae. I don’t think my head could take that this morning.” He gave her a wry grin. “I was just about to shave. Mind if I carry on?”

“No, of course, you go ahead.” Brennan followed him to the doorway of the bathroom uncertainly. When he realised she was just behind him, he indicated the bath.

“Take a pew on there and talk to me while I work, if you like.”

Brennan sat down gingerly on the edge of the bathtub and watched as Booth carefully squeezed shaving foam onto one hand and smoothed it over his face. He turned to her. “Well?”

“Sorry.” She saw him grin in amusement as he turned back to the mirror and took up his razor. Summoning up her recollection of the facts Angela had given her, Brennan tried to put them in some sort of order for a report to Booth. All the time, she was desperately trying not to be distracted as he gently pulled the razor over his cheeks and round his chin, angling his face to get a proper view in the mirror as he worked, and carefully washing the foam off the razor in the sink after each stroke.

When she lost her thread for the third time, he turned back to her, laughing. “What is the matter with you, Bones?”

She looked straight at him, her face serious. “Booth, you know that anthropologically, the father plays a large part in the raising of his male offspring. For example, I'm sure Rebecca would not be able to do anywhere near as good a job of teaching Parker to shave as you would.”

He laughed out loud at that, then he wiped a last bit of foam off his chin with the towel. “Temperance, you said last night you didn’t want me to kiss you because you were afraid I only wanted to do it because I was drunk and upset. If I were to try again – now – would you let me?”

“Do you know,” she said softly, “I think I would.”

So he did.

Chapter 8 Office work

The kiss lasted longer than Booth had expected – or hoped for. He stood holding on tight, savouring the feel of her in his arms. It felt so right, like a missing part of his life had been found and slotted into place.

Eventually Bones pushed him away and stood looking at him. He matched her gaze, absorbing every part of her as if he were seeing it for the first time: the steady blue eyes, the long glossy hair hanging over her shoulders, that adorable, kissable mouth. It was a while before either of them spoke.

Then Bones ran her tongue round her lips. Booth fought the urge to do the same. “Well,” she said. Then she tried again. “I don’t know what happens next.”

Booth let out the breath he’d been holding. “Breakfast?” he suggested with a wry grin.

“No, I mean about us. I don’t know what it means, Booth.”

He smiled at the familiar phrase in this unfamiliar context. He loved it that this highly intelligent woman was so comfortable admitting she didn’t know something.

He stepped forward and took her in his arms again. She put up no resistance. “It means that I care deeply for you, more than I should, and I hope you feel the same about me.”

“Well yes, of course,” she answered, gazing at him. “But I’m just scared.”

“Why?”

“Because we have a case to work on, and all I want to do is stay here with you. We can’t let it affect our work, Booth.”

“It was already beginning to,” he pointed out quietly. “Couldn’t you feel the tension? I’ve wanted you so much, but I didn’t want to scare you off.”

She smiled, and ran her hand over his chest. “And I wanted you,” she admitted. “I just don’t want to get hurt over this.”

He placed his hand under her chin and tilted her face up towards his. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you,” he told her softly.

They kissed again, and this time he pulled away first. “But I really am hungry,” he admitted with a grin. “So – breakfast?”

She nodded happily, and he pulled a tee shirt out of his bag and lifted it over his head. Grabbing up his jacket from the chair next to the bed, he indicated the door. “Shall we?”

They walked out of the door together, Booth carefully locking it behind him. As they walked across the parking lot, they met Charlie the motel man. He greeted them cheerfully. “Dr. Brennan, I see you know our new guest.”

“Yes, Charlie,” she replied, and introduced Booth.

“Is he a writer too?” Charlie asked with interest.

“No, actually I’m FBI,” Booth answered, watching in amusement as he got the usual reaction: when people discovered he was a law enforcer they always got a strange look in their eyes as they searched their memories for anything they might have done wrong. “I’m here working a case.”

Charlie nodded. “Ah, yes, sad business, that. Sad business. So young.” He turned his attention back to Brennan. “How’s the new novel going?” he asked. “Got much writing done?”

She shook her head. “A little. But there’s the case to work on. I’m not really here to write; it just helps me relax in the evenings.”

Booth smiled. He loved hearing Bones talking about her writing. He took her arm. “Breakfast?” he reminded her.

She nodded, seeming slightly uncomfortable at his touch, but not objecting. When Charlie disappeared back into the office she turned to him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly worried.

“Nothing. It’s just – I’m not used to this, Booth, and it makes me feel uneasy. Especially when we’re supposed to be on a case. It’s not – it’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just that maybe we shouldn’t make it common knowledge. Not yet. Not until we’ve both gotten used to the idea and know how things are going to work.”

He nodded, but she didn’t pull her arm out of his, and he didn’t let go voluntarily. Instead, she gave him a small grin. “Of course, while we’re among strangers it doesn’t matter much anyway.”

They walked together to the diner, where a young waitress greeted them. “I’m Sally,” she said cheerfully. “Staying at the motel? Enjoying your stay?”

They explained that they were working on a case, and her face fell. “I saw something had happened over at the building site,” she said soberly. “You never think anything exciting will happen where you live, then when it does you wish it hadn’t.”

They nodded, sat and ordered food, and waited until Sally had moved out of earshot. Then they looked at each other, unsure what to say. Booth winced inwardly. If they didn’t get over this stage pretty damn quick, life was going to be difficult for both of them. He gave her what she called his charm smile. “What’s the plan for today then?”

Brennan frowned, considering carefully. “I want to check they’re searching the site thoroughly. I don’t want them to miss anything else.”

Booth nodded. “I want to sit and go through the file on the kidnap in detail, see if there’s anything we’ve missed. And I need to keep on top of the investigation here. Then I want a chance to interview some friends of the family.”

“You’re investigating the father?” Brennan pushed out her bottom lip for a moment as she thought. “You said that the two deaths are likely to be connected, which would probably rule the father of one of them out, especially as they happened eighteen months apart.”

“Until we have an ID and further information on the second boy, I can’t rule anything out,” Booth admitted gloomily. “I need to talk to people who knew the father, see what they have to say. After all, if it wasn’t the father, then why did he disappear? Why didn’t he report the boy missing?”

Brennan nodded. “That’s a good point. Booth, I know you feel a personal connection to this case. I know that you’re having problems with access to your son, and sympathise with the father, but you’re going to stay objective, aren’t you?”

He scowled at her, feeling hurt. “Of course.”

She smiled cheerfully. “I thought so. I just needed to hear you confirm it.”

Their food arrived and they ate for a while in silence, and then walked to the building site together to check in with the search team, before driving in Booth’s car to the station.

Booth begged a desk and sat with the contents of the file spread out around him, ignoring the hostile glares of Ted Harvey, who really seemed to resent his presence on the case. Why did the locals always object to FBI involvement? You'd think they'd welcome the help, instead of getting so damned territorial.

Brennan sat at the other side of the desk with her laptop, reading the lab reports and chatting to her team about the findings on the second boy via the online video conferencing. Throughout the morning Booth found himself glancing up only to find Bones gazing over at him. They would both smile, as if sharing a secret, then look back at their work. Booth looked down at the file, trying to concentrate on his work, and decided to run through what they already knew. They had one dead boy, who had died of suffocation around two years ago. He'd been reported as kidnapped by his father at around the same time. They had another boy, dead only six months but also of suffocation, as yet unidentified. He rubbed his hand across his face. Whatever way you thought about it, the father of the first boy had to be important, if only because the boy was reportedly in his custody at around the time of his murder.

Booth’s eyes were starting to ache from staring at all the detail in the file, and after a while he stood and walked round the desk. He placed a hand on Brennan’s shoulder. “Want a coffee?” he asked her.

“Oh, hi Booth!” came Angela’s voice cheerfully from the computer, and it was only then that Booth remembered the video link worked both ways and she could both see and hear him. He dropped his hand from Bones’ shoulder, but was rewarded by a knowing grin from the artist. Bones turned away from the computer slightly and gave him a rueful grin, hiding her reaction from the camera built into the laptop. “Yes, please,” she answered him.

“What?” He’d completely lost his train of thought, distracted both by her closeness and by Angela.

“Coffee?” she reminded him with a smile.

“Coffee. Yes. Coffee. Coming up.” He backed out of range of the camera, mouthed “sorry” at Bones over the top of the screen, then went in search of the coffee machine in the hallway. He wondered how much Angela had noticed, how much she had guessed; how much she already knew was going on between them. So many people had assumed they had a relationship, that it felt like he had been the last to find out. Now there really was a link between them, it was going to be damn near impossible to hide it. He suppressed a grin. And what was wrong with that? But for now – well, although they couldn’t hide it forever, they could sure have fun for a while.

Brennan turned and watched Booth until he’d passed out of sight into the hall, before turning back to the computer where she knew Angela was waiting for her. This gave her time to compose herself and smooth the smile off her face. She knew Booth’s hand on her shoulder had been completely casual. He’d often touched her on the shoulder in passing, or placed a hand on her arm while talking to her. She’d got into the habit of doing the same to him. But she was sure that Angela had not missed the way he had looked guilty when he’d realised he was being watched.

“So how is Booth?” Angela asked with a broad grin on her face.

Brennan decided to ignore her. Then as she was halfway through her next sentence she realised that her reaction, too, was a giveaway, and she stammered and blushed. Angela spotted that and hooted in delight. “That good, huh?” she asked.

Brennan welcomed Booth’s return with the coffee. She murmured her thanks, breathing in the caffeine with gratitude and enjoying the momentary distraction. She looked up at him. “We haven’t got an ID on the second boy yet,” she explained. Booth leaned forward towards the screen to listen, placing his hand on the desk in front of her.

“He’s about the same age as the first boy, but we haven’t been able to match the facial reconstruction and description with any missing persons,” Angela amplified. “LIBS indicates that he lived most of his life in the New York area. Carpet fibres were found on both bodies, a dark blue in colour, plus a few assorted fibres of other colours. Both show signs of suffocation, and bright red fibres were found around the mouth area, and in the case of the first child also in the lungs, indicating that material of some kind was held over their faces to smother them. There are injuries around the wrists and ankles, indicating the boys were bound before death, but no sign of other ill-treatment. Particles on the bodies show no indication either boy was killed far from where they were found.”

Booth nodded. “Thanks, Angela. Let us know as soon as you come up with any definite ID for the boy.”

He turned to Brennan. “We really need to get out and interview these people who knew the Swift family, just to rule the father out, but it looks like these deaths are both related. Unless there's a connection between the boys, it's unlikely to be the father of one of them.”

She nodded, thankful for the opportunity of a break away from the computer. “Can I come?”

“Of course.”

Thankfully she signed off the video conferencing session, shut the laptop and placed it back in her bag. Booth collected his jacket from the back of the chair he’d been using and fished his car keys out of his pocket. They walked out together, ignoring Harvey’s glowering expression.

As they neared the car Booth slipped his arm around Brennan’s shoulders and kissed her gently on the cheek. She smiled and turned to him, wrapping her arms around him. “Do you think Angela guessed anything?” she asked him with a mischievous smile.

“Well, knowing Angela, I’m not sure she would need to guess – I think she knows exactly how we feel about each other,” he joked, holding the car door open for her.

She climbed inside and fastened her seatbelt, twisting round in her seat to watch as Booth took the driver’s seat and inserted the ignition key. He glanced across at her. “What?” he asked, sounding self-conscious.

She just smiled. “I like watching you drive,” she said.

He pulled a face at her and started the engine. “You’re in charge of the satellite system then,” he said, and she obediently reached forward to program the gadget.

The journey passed quickly – too quickly, in Brennan’s opinion. She had learnt to enjoy her journeys with Booth. In the past they had debated anything and everything, with Brennan usually arguing science against Booth’s more personal reactions. This time, the conversation took on a new dimension, as the memory of the change in their relationship overlaid all that they said.

They pulled up outside a small, unprepossessing house with garden toys strewn around the front yard. Two small children yelled at each other and fought over a bucket, while an older girl ignored them, sitting on a garden chair with her nose in a book.

Booth and Brennan exchanged glances as they got out of the car. Booth walked up the path to the door, with Brennan close behind. She looked at the children: they seemed well cared for, if somewhat loud.

Booth rang the doorbell, a few minutes later the door was opened from inside. All this time the children had totally ignored them. The older girl lifted her head from her book a couple of times to yell at the younger ones, but otherwise paid no attention to anything around her. Booth showed his badge to the woman who opened the door and introduced them both, and they were led through to the back room.

“I’m sorry,” the woman apologised, moving stacks of books and toys off a couple of chairs. “The children never clean up – what can I do for you?”

Brennan looked at Booth, who seemed quite content to let her to take the lead. “Mrs Perry,” she said. “We believe you know Rachel Swift?”

“Rachel?” She nodded. “Oh – she called. She’s a good friend, you see. She said you’d found Jason’s body. So terrible.”

“Yes. Mrs Perry – we’d like to ask you a few questions. You knew Jason and his father as well, I understand?” Brennan glanced around the room, seeing photos of the children on the walls.

“That’s right. We were good friends. Ryan and Paul – my ex-husband – were drinking buddies.”

“Can you tell me what the relationship was like between Ryan and Jason?” Brennan watched Booth out of the corner of her eye. She knew his feelings on this case.

“Very intense. He worshiped the boy, felt he could do nothing wrong. I know Rachel and Ryan argued about him a lot. He felt Rachel was bringing him up wrong. He hated it when she told him off about anything. He spoilt the boy rotten.”

“Do you think he would ever hurt the boy?” Brennan could feel Booth tense up as she asked the question.

“No. I know they argued a lot, I know that Rachel hated him having contact with the boy – but no, I couldn’t imagine him ever hurting Jason.”

Booth relaxed slightly. He nodded. “Thank you,” he said to the woman. She looked puzzled.

“Mrs Perry,” Brennan went on hurriedly. “Do you have any idea where Ryan Swift could be right now?”

She shook her head. “No. Sorry. But you could try asking Paul, if you could find him. I’m not sure where he’s living now, but he did work at the local garage. I’ve hardly seen him since he moved out to be with his new girlfriend three years ago, when I was pregnant.” She almost spat the last word out. “If you do go see him, remind him that he has kids himself, please.”

Booth stood up. “Thank you for your time, Ma’am,” he said, holding his hand out for Brennan. She stood up as well, and smiled at the woman as they left.

“Well?” she asked as they walked back to the car.

Booth turned to look at her. “I told you he wasn’t involved,” he said.

“So where is he?” Brennan could appreciate Booth’s feelings; she could not bear the thought of a man hurting his own son either, but that still left them with two murdered boys and a missing father.

“Let’s go and see his friend, shall we?”

After a pleasant lunch at a small restaurant in town they managed to track Paul Perry down in a small apartment building. As they stood knocking at the door Brennan considered the property. Smaller than his wife’s house, it did not look the sort of apartment to house children for any length of time. “I wonder what sort of access he has to his kids?” she murmured softly. “It didn’t sound as if he tried that hard.”

Booth shook his head. “Some people don’t care for their kids,” he admitted.

The door opened, and a man they assumed was Paul Perry stood in front of them. Booth flashed his card. “We’re looking for Ryan Swift,” he said. “Do you know him?”

The man blinked sleepily, then nodded. “Yeah, I know Ryan,” he said cautiously. “What’s he done?”

“He kidnapped his kid.”

“That was ages ago,” the man blustered. “And what’s it got to do with me?”

“We were hoping you had some idea where to find Ryan,” explained Booth. “His son’s body has been found.”

“No kidding.” Perry whistled between his teeth. “I haven’t seen him. Not since he took the boy. Wasn’t expecting to. His wife – sorry, ex-wife – she’s a bitch, that one. If she ever caught him she’d bust his balls.” He shook his head in pretend sympathy. “Tell you what; if I hear from him I’ll let you know.”

He tried to shut the door on them, but Booth put his arm out and prevented him. “We’d like to hear what kind of man Ryan Swift is,” he said. “What the relationships were like in that family.”

Perry leaned against the door frame, looking bored. “Rachel Swift is a bitch,” he said after a few moments’ thought. “Ryan adored his son, wanted to see him all the time. She wouldn’t let him. Said it upset her routine. She was so hard on the poor kid, always yelling at him, putting him down. Ryan told her to stop, but she wasn’t having it. Then she told him he wasn’t to see the boy any more. Ryan just snapped. He said he would get the boy from her, whatever it took.”

He had little more to add, and soon Booth and Brennan found themselves back at the car.

Brennan looked at Booth. “Well, it looks like your instinct was right,” she said with a sigh. “It doesn’t sound like the father hurt the boy. There’s inconsistency though – Mrs Perry said that the father was too lenient, Mr Perry said the mother was too tough. I wonder what the truth was.”

“The truth, Bones?” Booth kicked irritably at a stone lying on the pavement, sending it skittering into the bushes at the side of the road. “The truth is that bringing up a child is one of the hardest things in the world. If you’ve got two people who aren’t working together as a team, it becomes almost impossible.”

Brennan gave him a sympathetic hug, and he gave her a reluctant smile, before they both climbed silently into the car and drove back to the motel.

Booth parked the car in front of the motel, and turned towards Bones. “Dinner?” he suggested.

“That’s very kind of you to offer,” she said demurely. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”

He grinned. “The diner, I suppose.” On impulse, Booth held his hand out to Brennan and they walked to the diner with their fingers laced together. Booth gave Brennan’s hand a gentle squeeze before he finally let go, and was pleased to receive an answering squeeze.

Sally was still working there, and greeted them cheerfully again. Just as they were sitting down Brennan’s phone rang. She looked at the display, then at Booth. “It’s Goodman.” She frowned as she answered it.

Booth sat waiting patiently as she talked to Dr. Goodman. She did not seem too happy about something, he noticed.

After a few minutes she hung up and looked at Booth. “I’ve got to go back,” she said, frowning. “I’ve got a meeting with Goodman and a Dr. Callahan from Quebec tomorrow at ten, I’d forgotten about it. And Goodman says the team need my assistance with the second body.”

Booth scowled. “When are you leaving?” He felt his heart sink. He didn’t know what he had expected from tonight, but Brennan rushing back to DC definitely hadn’t been on his list of possibilities.

“I really ought to travel back tonight,” Brennan picked at the tablecloth, deep in thought. “Or I could get up really early tomorrow morning,” she added thoughtfully. “I’d have to leave by about six, but I’d catch clear roads and I’d be better rested and ready to drive.”

“Or not,” Booth thought to himself. Out loud, he said, “That sounds a more sensible idea. We could set the alarm for five.”

Brennan looked up at him sharply. “We?”

He froze, suddenly concerned. How the hell had that slipped out? Then he saw she was smiling suggestively at him, and relaxed. After all, she had been the one who suggested she could stay the night. He felt he was justified in feeling curious as to why...

“Well,” he said, trying to save face. “You don’t think I’ll let you go without seeing you off, do you?”

They discussed the case quietly over dinner, then sat over drinks. Booth really didn’t know what he expected to happen when they left the diner. He wasn’t sure Brennan knew, either.

Eventually he stood up and stretched. “Well, you’ve had an easy time of it today, but I’ve done a lot of driving and my shoulders ache, and you’ve got an early start tomorrow. I’m going to head back to the motel. Coming?”

Brennan stood up. “That sounds a very good idea.” When they reached Brennan’s room Booth hesitated, but she nudged him with her shoulder. “I’ll rub your back if you like.”

“That’s an offer I can’t refuse,” he joked, reaching for his key.

“Take your jacket off and lie down,” Brennan ordered when they were in the room. Booth did as he was told, lying at full length in the middle of the bed, his arms stretched out sideways. Brennan sat beside him on the edge of the bed, using her fingertips to gently massage his back and shoulders. She pulled his tee shirt out of his pants and up towards his neck, so that she could reach his bare back. Although he felt stiff at first, unfamiliar with the touch of her fingers on his bare back and not sure what she was intending, he found himself sinking into the bed, relaxed and comfortable.

“Booth? Are you falling asleep on me?”

He turned over, laughing, and smiled up at her. “Not yet!” he answered with a grin. “I’m just enjoying the massage.”

“Well, in that case – I can give a better massage if you take your tee shirt off.”

“Hey, that’s not fair! How come I have to strip and you don’t?”

“If it makes you feel better I can remove my clothing too, but then you have to give me a massage.”

Booth pretended to think for a moment. “That could be arranged,” he said with a grin.

Booth was amazed at how comfortable he felt with Bones. He remembered back to the fight they’d been having when they’d first heard about this case, and decided it was time to get his own back. Soon he had Bones wriggling and writhing under his tickling fingers. And then she stopped giggling and kissed him instead...

The alarm went off loudly in Booth’s ear. He flung out a hand, fumbled for the off button, then lay in bed, idly running his fingers up and down Brennan’s hip. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” he complained, watching his fingers as they brushed her skin.

She lay on her side, propped up on her elbow, gazing at him. Her long hair fell down to one side, brushing the pillow. How come she looked so beautiful at such an early hour?

“You know I’ve got to,” she said quietly.

He looked up at her. “I know.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“I know.”

“But I have to attend this meeting with Goodman. And the rest of the team really need me on this other body. I can’t stay here just because I want to. I have a job to do, and I can do far more good back at the lab right now than by staying here.”

“We both have a job to do.” Booth sighed, and lay on his back, staring up at the greyish ceiling of the motel room. “I hate to admit it, but I need to stay here and concentrate on getting this bunch properly organised. Much as I’d like to go back to DC with you, I can’t.” It hurt; this thought that he would be parted from her. He knew that it wouldn’t be for long, but still – he tensed his fists in frustration.

Brennan put up her hand and stroked his face. “It won’t be for long.” She echoed his thoughts. “And I think we both know that if we put our relationship before the case then we won’t last long.”

He nodded, knowing she was right.

Less than an hour later, they were both up and dressed. Brennan packed her bag into her car, and then turned back to him. “I’m going to miss you,” she said softly to him, and kissed him again.

Booth tried his hardest to remain impassive, but somehow he just couldn’t manage it. Why was it that he found it so hard to hide his feelings from this woman? Rebecca and Tessa, the two other women he’d any kind of serious relationship with lately, had both complained at how hard it was to know how he felt; Bones seemed to read him like a book. Now she placed her hand against his cheek, and he moved his face to kiss it gently.

“Drive safely,” he murmured to her. She smiled.

“You catch the murderer, so you can come back,” she ordered him.

“For you – anything.”

“Not for me. For those kids.”

He grimaced and nodded. Watching her get in her car and start the engine, he fought off the urge to run along beside her and wave a handkerchief or something equally sappy, and instead turned away to his car, planning to head into the office and see exactly what was going on with the search team. Logic suggested that with the boys dead for so long a day or two wouldn’t make much difference to catching their killer, but his heart told him that he had to close this one fast and get back to the city and to his Bones.

Brennan arrived back in the lab just after nine am, and immediately headed for the pile of papers that had amassed on her desk in her absence. She was in no mood to talk to anyone. As she had travelled further and further from Booth physically, so she had felt herself separate from him emotionally as well. She couldn’t help going back over the events of the past couple of days in her mind, and was starting to have the terrible suspicion she had read the whole situation wrong. It all felt like one big dream. She had entered this new stage of her relationship with Booth imagining that he cared as deeply for her as she did for him, but what if she was wrong? At no point had they discussed their relationship. Maybe it was just a physical attraction for him, the need of the alpha male to assert his dominance over the alpha female. She was begging to feel that maybe she’d royally screwed things up between them.

She felt strongly that the only way to find out where they really stood was to solve this case and be back together in the same city. Only then would she be able to talk to Booth and find out where they stood.

The last thing she wanted to do right now was to talk to Booth. She was too afraid of what she might hear.

She thought of talking to Angela, but they had agreed to keep this quiet for now. Who had originally suggested that? Was it her, trying to give them a chance to get used to the change in their relationship before making it public, or Booth, seeing this as an opportunity to pretend nothing had happened between them?

No, she couldn’t talk to Angela either, not now. She didn’t feel ready. The only thing she could do was bury herself in her work. That usually helped when she wanted space to think things out on her own.

She checked through the file for the first boy. Angela had done a good job on the facial reconstruction, as usual; apart from the hair, which was mostly guesswork, she had captured a good likeness. That had helped confirm identification in the missing children database.

Decomposition tests confirmed her first estimate, that the child had been dead around two years. This placed his disappearance firmly close to the time he had been abducted by his father. Brennan found herself distracted by the thought of Booth, and the agent’s relationship with his own son. How could she imagine he would take on a serious relationship with someone who had said publicly she didn’t want children?

Irritably, she shook the thought off and got back to the file, looking at Hodgin’s summary of his findings on both bodies.

Soil and particulates all confirmed the area in which the bodies had been found; nothing had been discovered to change their original theory, which was that the boys had been killed in the area near where they had been buried. The bodies had both been naked when found, which suggested some sort of assault had taken place, but there was nothing to confirm that on the bodies themselves, apart from wrist and ankle injuries which indicated the boys had been bound tightly before death and had both struggled to free themselves. Brennan thought of these poor boys, frightened and alone, and again she thought of Booth, working hard to find their killer.

The boys both had traces of cotton fibers in their lungs and around their mouths, dyed pinkish-red. This was consistent with a cloth or cushion or similar article being held over their faces to suffocate them. There were also two types of dark blue fibers: the lighter ones appeared to be carpet, the other of a heavy denim-type material.

She turned her attention to the second file. Angela had produced a sketch of a boy with curly hair and a lively expression on his face. Parker’s face floated in front of her eyes, and she resolutely pushed it away. The second file was almost identical to the first, apart from the presence of identification details, and it was becoming unarguable that the two deaths were the work of the same killer, but without an identification on the second boy any link would be hard to find.

An extra sheet in the second file, Zack’s report on the second body, attracted Brennan’s attention, and she read with interest. The second boy showed signs of old injuries, specifically a spiral fracture to the right ulna and a greenstick fracture to the right femur. She headed out to the bone room to check Zack’s findings, and found more evidence to back up her theory. She was still absorbed in what she found half an hour later.

"Goodman is looking for you," Angela said, standing beside her.

"I know. The meeting's not due to start for another fifteen minutes," Brennan answered absently, studying a metatarsal under a microscope.

"So, when do I hear about Booth?" Angela went on.

Brennan looked up sharply. "Hear what? I told you, Angela, there's nothing to tell."

"So why were you two looking so guilty on the video link yesterday?"

“For the last time, Angela, we were not looking guilty. Now please, drop the subject.”

“All right, I’m sorry, Sweetie, I didn’t realize you were so twitchy about it. I'll wait.”

Brennan could tell Angela was even more curious by this point, but she could not bear to even think about the FBI agent. Opening that door promised to open a whole world of hurt, and she refused to go there. “We need to identify this second body,” she said, tapping the file in front of her.

“We’ve been trying all we can think of, but there’s no match on the missing children database for any kid like this, either from six months ago or for four years before that. Zack is looking further back now, but the further back we go, the harder it is to feel sure about the match,” said Angela apologetically.

“I’ve had an idea.” Brennan glanced down at the notes she had made. “This child has suffered fractures that would have needed medical attention. Get Zack to check the hospitals in the New York area for a child brought in with these injuries. We might be able to track him that way.”

“Wow, why didn’t we think of that?” said Angela admiringly.

Brennan shook her head. “It’s only a remote chance, Angela,” she warned. “That arm injury was caused by someone twisting his arm, and it didn’t set right. It’s entirely possible he never received medical treatment for it.” She sighed. “It looks like not only was this boy murdered, but he was treated badly for most of his life.” She handed Angela a list of injuries and the approximate age at which each would have occurred.

She turned to leave the room. “I have to go to this meeting with Goodman. Let me know what you find out.”

After breakfast at the diner Booth headed over to the office. They had agreed that he would hand in Brennan's key and check her out; her start had been too early for the office to be open. Now the door was unlocked, but the room was empty, and Booth stood leaning on the counter looking round idly. A photo of a young boy behind the counter brought back memories of his last conversation with Rebecca, that he'd managed to avoid thinking about in the events of the last day with Bones, and he starting wondering how he was going to solve that problem.

Charlie appeared from a door behind the counter, and greeted him cautiously. He noticed where Booth had been looking, and beamed proudly. "That's my son. Handsome lad, isn't he?"

"He certainly is," Booth agreed.

"We spend a whole week together every summer, just the pair of us." Charlie smiled at the memory. "What can I do for you, Agent Booth? Checking out?"

"I'm checking Dr. Brennan out," Booth answered, dropping the key on the counter. "She had to leave really early, so I said I'd drop the key in."

Charlie picked it up and put it on the hook behind him. "Sorry to see her go," he remarked. "Will you be leaving anytime soon?" He seemed eager for the answer to be a yes.

"I'll be leaving when I've finished with this case," Booth answered shortly. He signed Brennan out, agreed that Charlie should charge her credit card, then walked over to the building site to check the status of the investigation. What he saw there made him less than happy. Workmen were gathered round their machines, while one man wearing a hard hat and looking like he was in charge was talking animatedly to Ted Harvey. When the investigator saw Booth he touched the foreman on the arm, then walked towards the FBI agent.

Booth met him halfway. "What the hell's going on?" he demanded, gesturing at the heavy machinery around them.

"I'm about to authorize them to start work," Harvey answered. "It's a big development. We can't hold it up for no reason."

"What - you're kidding me!" Booth shook his head. "No way does any work start here until I say so. We're dealing with a serial murder case. This is a murder scene. And no-one does anything here other than search for further evidence."

Harvey looked seriously annoyed, and turned back to the foreman. The foreman looked furious, and Harvey took hold of his arm and walked him away so he could talk to him privately. The two seemed to be having a big row, Booth noticed. He turned to all the men who had gathered round to hear what he had to say.

"No work will be done here today," Booth assured them. "Go home. This is a crime scene, and it can't be disturbed."

Reluctantly, muttering and cursing among themselves, the men eased back and some started to leave, but the foreman angrily brushed Harvey off and headed straight for Booth.

“You can’t hold up work here,” he fumed. “This is a million dollar development, and we can’t afford any delay.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Booth told him firmly. “But this is also a crime scene.”

The man swore loudly at him. Harvey said something to him under his breath, and the man shook his head and stormed off. A few minutes later they heard a car engine revved violently and tires squeal on the road.

Booth glared at Harvey. "I told you, I've taken charge of this investigation," he said. "No-one gives any orders around here that I haven't approved."

Harvey shrugged. "It seems pointless to me," he said. "We searched all day yesterday without finding anything. There's nothing left to find."

Booth shook his head, wondering if Harvey was deliberately trying to cause trouble or was just useless at his job. He had words personally with every officer on the site, making sure they knew exactly what they were looking for and what area they were searching, and then headed back to his car to check in at the station. There he spoke with another officer who was coordinating the enquiries. They had been showing photos of Jason and Ryan Swift around the area, seeing if anyone recognized them.

Of course, after two years it was a long shot, but Booth had hopes that someone at least would be able to place them in the area. But so far they'd come up with nothing.

Booth found himself thinking of Bones, and wondering what she was doing. He had achieved absolutely nothing at his end; he hoped she had managed to get somewhere with the bodies. Perhaps she, in the lab, could achieve what he couldn't out in the field. When he had first worked with her, he had seriously doubted the usefulness of her methods, but they had been proved time after time, and now he wondered if he was starting to place too high a value on her work. Then he thought again of some of the cases she had helped him solve, and knew that he literally couldn't do it without her.

But could he work with her, and have a relationship with her at the same time? Not if all she wanted was a physical relationship. He realized that now. Surely she wanted more, though. Didn't she? Was she willing to let down her guard and let someone in for a real relationship? Was she ready?

He shook the thoughts impatiently out of his head, and headed back to his car. There were a couple more of Ryan Swift’s friends he needed to talk to. He was still trying to build a picture of the boy’s father in his mind. Was he a man who loved his son so much he couldn’t bear to be parted from him? Was he a man who had unrealistic expectations of his son, then murdered him when he found the boy couldn’t live up to those expectations? Or was he a victim too, his body still to be recovered? Those were the questions he should be focusing on.

On the drive out of town Booth forced his thoughts to stay on the case. Thinking about Bones was pointless; he could achieve nothing, and what he wanted to do was to solve this case as soon as he could. Only then could he go back to DC, see Bones, and find out exactly where they stood.

He was unable to locate the first person he tried, a friend of Ryan’s, but managed to find Leila Jones, whose son Chris was one of Jason’s friends. She seemed shocked at the news of Jason’s death, and called Chris in to speak to Booth.

“Did you ever meet Jason’s parents?” Booth asked him.

“Yeah.” The boy perched on the edge of his seat, staring down at his feet.

“What did you think of them?”

Chris looked up at his mother as if asking her how to answer. She nodded for him to continue.

“His mom – she was really strict,” he said reluctantly. “His dad was cool. He’d let him do anything he wanted. Jason always wanted to be with his dad.”

Booth looked up at the mother, and she shook her head. “Rachel Swift was a good mother,” she said firmly. “Ryan Swift let that kid get away with anything. It’s no wonder he would prefer to be with his dad. Ryan just didn’t know how to say no. No backbone, that one.”

“He had enough backbone to kidnap his son,” Booth pointed out.

“Yes, but he’d have soon had enough. When he learnt what it’s really like to care for a child, instead of just giving them a good time. He’d have brought him back.”

But would he have killed him? The thought rose again in Booth’s mind as he got back into his car. He was just debating with himself whether to grab some lunch at a diner or eat in the car, when his phone rang. He listened to what the caller had to say, hung up, sat thinking for a few minutes, then flipped his phone open, hit the button his finger automatically went to without looking, and waited for an answer.

“Brennan.”

He smiled. “Where will you be in a few hours, Bones? I’m coming back to DC. We've had a breakthrough.”

"Race you back!" Brennan stood up and was halfway down the path before Booth had a chance to respond. His longer stride easily caught up, but she had had a longer break and easily kept up with him as they headed out of the park and along the pavement to Booth's apartment.

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