Ashes in the Snow (A Christmas Story) K+?

This has only one minor spoiler... but nothing you won't find out on Wednesday November 5th.
I was feeling Christmasy... so... voila!

Icy flakes fell from the sky like little droplets of cotton. They drifted slowly from the sky, settling on the man's nose. The white flakes speckled his cocoa hued skin. The stark contrast was beautiful and interesting. The flakes settled on his thick black curls and long lashes.

A short Scottish Terrier bounded through the white snow carrying a stick to its master between its woolen jowls.

"Good job, Elspet." The man bent over and scratched the dog's ears, melting the snowy bits from his midnight hued ears. "Good job, girl."

He grabbed the stick from her mouth, pulled his arm back and catapulted the stick in the air. Elspet disappeared behind icy brush. After several seconds and the dog had not yet returned, the man began to hike over the tufts, his feet sinking into the snow. "Elspet! Here, girl!" He whistled, beckoning her to return to him.

He turned when he heard low growling and the distinct sound of paws scratching against frozen ground. The dog came into view. She was digging furiously at the ground, growing, barking in a low voice.

After a few more seconds, Elspet retrieved her prize. A stick. She came up to her master, stick in mouth and dropped it obediently with a little woof and a shake of the tail.

The master bent over and picked up the stick. It wasn't a stick. It was pitted and rather heavy. Its texture was very unexpected. He sucked in a deep sharp breath and dropped the stick to the ground. "Oh, Holy Lord..."

--------------

"I've just never seen the relevance of going to Christmas parties. I think it's a waste of my time. I'd rather spend my holidays otherwise," Brennan said. Her hands were crossed and she sat back in her chair, legs crossed.

"Your posture seems defensive, Dr. Brennan," Sweets noted. "May I venture to say that it isn't the get-together that bothers you, but the social situation?"

Brennan looked annoyed, "Why does everyone think that I'm so socially marred? I'm not as bad as I used to be. Ask Booth."

Sweets looked over at Booth who was flipping open and closed his wallet. The badge would flash, then disappear. Flash, then disappear.

"Agent Booth?"

"Huh? What, Sweets?"

"Dr. Brennan just said that she's made strides in her social skills. You know her best. Would you agree?"

Booth snorted.

Brennan quickly looked over at him. "Wh--Booth!"

"What, Bones?"

"You just snorted. You think I haven't made strides in my social skills?"

"I didn't say that."

"You did. You didn't need to use words, Booth. You just snorted. Actions speak louder than words."

"I didn't snort."

"You don't think I know what it sounds like when you snort at me by now?" Brennan shifted her positioning, making it quite obvious that she was now annoyed at Booth.

Booth turned toward his partner, "Look, Bones. I'm sorry."

She just looked at him.

"What do you need me to do? Dog-pile on jagged glass?"

"I don't know what dog-pile means, but it doesn't sound half bad," she said cynically.

Booth sighed, "Yes. Yes, Sweets. She's definitely much better now than when we were first partnered."

Brennan looked over at him and studied him momentarily. Was he lying? Exaggerating?

"Are you being honest?" Sweets asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, Sweets. Look, when Bones and I were first partnered, Brennan didn't even leave her lab except to sleep and shower. "

"Not true," Brennan said defensively.

"True, Bones," Booth said.

Brennan sighed. "I got out occasionally."

Booth turned toward Bones. "I think you should go. It'll be fun."

Sweets watched as the two looked at one another. A conversation that could only be heard by the two of them was being said in that silent way of theirs.

"OK. I'll go. But I still don't see the significance of getting drunk with a bunch of scientists who should spend their time more productively. You know I've never liked going to these functions."

"Yeah. But it'll be good for you," Booth smiled slightly.

"Then you'll go with me?"

Sweets looked like his head was going to explode. His eyes were about as big as ping pong balls.

"Huh?" Booth asked, in a tone a half an octave higher than usual.

"Not as a date of course, although, what I need is a date. Or--at least a partner. A friend. Company."

"Bones, I--" Booth began, shaking his head.

"It's fine, Booth. You don't need to feel obligated to take me. It's just--" She let the conversation drop as she glanced quickly out the window and watched as the snow fell.

"It's just what, Bones?" Booth asked, reaching his arm behind her and leaning toward her.

"I should be used to being alone, right?"

"Bones..."

"No. I'm not being self-deprecative, Booth. It's just that Hodgins and Cam are going together and Angela is taking Roxy. They'll be--" She looked over at Booth.

"Paired off like square dancers?"

"I don't know what you mean, but I'm guessing that the answer is yes."

Booth struggled inwardly for a second. Brennan was reaching out to him. Using her heart for once, but there was the partnership. A fragile thing that was only becoming more and more fragile with every moment alone with this intriguing and beautiful woman.

Before he could give his final answer, his cell phone began to buzz. He ignored it for a moment.

"Your cell is ringing, Booth," Brennan said flatly.

Sweets sighed audibly. "Agent Booth, do I need to have a rule about leaving the phones with my secretary?"

Booth shot him a dangerous look.

"Never mind," Sweets whispered.

Brennan stood and walked toward the door, opened it and let herself into the hallway.

Booth paused at the door and looked back at Sweets. "Am I wrong?"

Sweets sat up a little straighter, surprised that he would be invited to give personal advice.

"Booth!" Brennan yelled from the hallway.

"We can talk later, Agent Booth."

Booth smiled and let himself out.

Part II

"One look at the thing, and I called the FBI."

"Human?" Booth asked. He and Brennan were following Park Ranger Durken along a long walking path. The snow crunched beneath their feet.

"I don't know. My motto is if it ain't broke, don't fix it. I'm no doctor, so I called in the FBI."

"What exactly did you find?" Brennan asked. She and Booth were walking shoulder to shoulder. Every three or four steps, their shoulders would bump and Brennan would take a side step to keep from doing it again.

"Beats the Sam Hell outta me," Durken said. "Bone. Could be white tail deer, could be black bear. Could be human."

"I think what Dr. Brennan means, is did you find an arm or what? What're we working with here?" Booth asked.

"Oh. Chunks o'bone. I don't know. I didn't exactly draw myself a picture."

Brennan looked confused. "Why would you draw a picture? Technology has improved to the point where digital cameras can be found on everything from pens to cell phones to--"

"Bones. I think he was just being sarcastic," Booth said.

"Oh."

"And you didn't take any photographs?" Booth asked.

"Like I said. Ain't broke. I'm no fixer."

Brennan and Booth exchanged half-amused glances as they turned off the path and through the snow.

"It's over there," the officer pointed toward a disturbed patch beneath a sycamore.

Brennan walked up to it and squatted. She took out a blue glove and mixed around the ash for several seconds.

"What is it, Bones?"

"That's what it is," the officer said. "Bones."

Brennan looked up and in a released breath, she said, "Bones is a nickname." Then to Booth, "It's buried." She moved aside the frozen soil, releasing a few chunks of bone that the dog had dug up.

"The guy who found these said his dog dug 'em up."

"And where's he?" Booth asked.

"Ranger's station. Said he threw a stick. Next thing he knew he was holding a thigh bone."

"Is this it?" Brennan asked, pointing to the loose bone.

"That's it," Durken nodded.

"That's not a thigh bone," Brennan said.

"Bear?"

"Humerus," Brennan corrected.

Booth leaned into the officer, "Arm bone," he clarified.

The officer nodded.

"Rather, a portion of a humerus. This body was dismembered and burned."

Booth scrunched his nose. "That's nasty."

"And buried in a tin coffee can. The lid looks decayed."

"How long...?" Booth asked.

"It's difficult, considering the condition of the bones, to say accurately right now, but from the condition of the plastic lid... months." She lifted the plastic lid which had shattered being no longer flexible.

Booth squatted as well, the coffee can being between them. He peeped inside. The can was indeed rusted and old. A few larger chunks of bone were visible, the rest was filled with a mixture of soil and ashes.

"There are ashes in the coffee can. That, plus the burn marks on the bones, leads me to believe that this body--"

"Was mutilated," Booth finished, suddenly feeling awful about talking about Christmas parties and about admiring his partner's body just minutes before. Those things were for the living. They were actions full of life. And here was a body. Stuffed into a coffee can, where nobody should ever be found. And this person... was not going to be spending Christmas with his or her family this Christmas.

Part III

Brennan, Daisy Wick, Clark Edison, Cam, Hodgins, and Angela all stood around the a stainless steel table. The coffee can was sitting on the table. The lid and larger pieces of bone were laying on the table separately.

"It's times like this that I'm glad I'm not one of you guys," Angela said.

"Newsflash, you are one of us," Cam replied.

Angela looked a little hurt, but a little amused.

"Welcome to the Brain Trust, baby." Hodgins grinned at Angela.

"Don't call me baby, baby." Angela replied, smiling back.

Brennan, who was leaning over the table, looked up to look between Hodgins and Angela.

"Baby," Hodgins said again.

"You're a genius, Hodgie. You should know that I don't like that," Angela replied flirtatiously.

"My apologies," Hodgins said, masking a huge smile as he looked down at the coffee can.

Cam and Brennan exchanged amused glances.

Clark, whose week at the lab was overlapping a case, had come in early to listen to the case. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but I'm here to exercise my skills in forensic anthropology, not play the Newlywed Game."

Brennan breathed out, "Clark is right. Let's begin the examination."

"I'll sift through the contents of the can," Hodgins said, grabbing up the can.

"Take Clark with you. He has experience in sediment analysis," Cam suggested.

"Right-o, Boss Lady." Then to Clark, "Coming?" He and Clark walked off the platform toward Hodgins' work station.

"Not much to work with," Cam said, leaning over the larger bones that Brennan was examining.

"Where there are bones, there's enough to work with." Brennan squinted at at the humerus.

"Dr. Brennan, I would like to help you with whatever you are doing. I'm extremely adaptable," Daisy said perkily.

Brennan looked up. "You can help by being silent so I can concentrate."

Cam and Brennan looked at one another.

Brennan relented. "If you would like, you can bring me that magnifying glass over there."

Booth slid his card through the reader just as Daisy walked over to the magnifier. "Bones! Whatcha got?"

"Bones," she replied.

"Very funny."

"And ash. Not to mention a rusty coffee tin. Do you want me to draw a picture?" She smiled slightly.

"See, Bones? Someone who's bad socially wouldn't have picked up on that phrase so quickly."

Brennan rolled her eyes back to the bones. "It's impossible to tell sex or age just by looking at the bone. There's no skull, so that makes identification even harder."

"No skull again?" Booth said, referring to an earlier case.

"It's not uncommon for criminals to destroy or separate the skull or any other identifying markers. Hands, skulls. It makes it harder to solve."

"No body, no crime."

"No identity, no crime," Brennan replied, turning her face back to the humerus. "I'll take bone samples and see if that will give us a more accurate age."

"DNA will give you a sex," Cam supplied.

"I looked through outstanding Missing Persons reports." Booth put his hands on his hips.

"And...?" Cam asked.

"They're so deep I could swim in them."

"So, I'll have to narrow it down for you," Brennan replied, taking off her gloves and walking off the platform.

Booth turned to walk after her, but Cam stopped him, "Seeley."

He turned. "Hmm?"

"Going to the Christmas Banquet?"

"Nah."

"You're not taking Dr. Brennan?"

"No," he replied as if that answer would have been obvious.

"What's going on, Seeley?" She eyed him.

Booth sighed and walked toward Cam, closing the distance so that he didn't have to speak so loud. "Bones wanted me to go, but... I--"

"You said no?" She asked, shocked.

"No. Technically I didn't even answer her."

Cam rolled her eyes.

"Why would I want to go, Cam? So I can get jiggy with a bunch of Comic-Con Cruisaders?"

"Hey, don't knock Comic-Con. I went when I was seventeen."

Booth looked surprised.

"I wore a Cat Woman costume, of course. Well, if we're going to be technical here, I only wore it twenty-five minutes."

"What'd you do? Run into Spiderman?"

Cam only grinned.

"OK, then." Booth spun around.

"Booth," Cam said again.

He turned, "What?"

"It's just a banquet. You should take her."

Booth smiled and walked again toward Cam. "And why should I listen to you?"

"Because I'm your friend. And because I'm next in line for being Queen of the World. I'm pretty sure that bears some pull." Cam grinned, making her dimples grow deeper in her cheeks.

Booth sighed, "It's a lot more complicated than that, Camille."

"What's the difference, Seeley? Isn't that what you and Brennan do every day? A few drinks, a bite to eat, long deep looks into one another's eyes?" Now her grin was teasing.

"Dinner and drinks are one thing--"

"Oh, please, Seeley. Just take the woman with you. What's the worst that could happen?"

Booth sighed, then smiled at Cam. He walked off the platform to go find Brennan. Cam watched until he was out of sight, then turned her mind to finding a piece of bone suitable for DNA testing.

What's the worst that could happen? A whole night of staring at his partner in a low cut dress, making his hormones go crazy. One touch, one kiss good-night could lead into a lot of things that could snowball into one big terrible mistake.

The last thing that Booth wanted in the world was to lose the one woman who had become someone he could depend on.

Part IV

Booth found Brennan in the Ookey Room with Clark.

"Hey, Bones."

She only briefly looked up.

"Look, I wanted to talk about..."

"Booth. You don't have to talk about anything."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No."

Booth sighed, "Bones, are you still going to the banquet?"

Without looking up, she answered curtly, "No."

"Bones! Why not?"

Now she looked up, "One, I don't like Christmas parties. I feel out of place and I hate it. And two, I have nobody to take me. Besides, I don't feel like being a fifth wheel."

"Third wheel, Bones."

"Cam, Hodgins, Angela, Roxy.... me. Five people, five wheels."

Booth was quiet for a second, then he put his hand on Clark's shoulder, making him jolt, "Hey, Clarky, how would you like to take Dr. Brennan to the Christmas Banquet? Free chips..."

"I--I..." Clark stumbled.

"Uh--Booth! You don't need to find me a date. I can do fine on my own." Brennan crossed her arms.

"Look, Bones, I just want you to be happy, that's all."

"Well, I'm happy, thank you very much."

Booth took a step towards Brennan, "Spending Christmas Eve looking at cadavers isn't my kind of fun, Bones. It isn't anybody's kind of fun."

"Well, that just goes to show how much you know me. I find it quite intriguing."

"Just take Clark, Bones."

"I'm feeling extremely uncomfortable here," Clark muttered.

"I'm not taking Clark!"

"Take Clark."

"Anyone ever watch Days of Our Lives? I haven't because I hate soap operas," Clark said a little louder, then began to inch his way out of the room.

Booth grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back, "Take Dr. Brennan, Clark. She's single."

"Uh--" Clark stuttered.

"Booth!" By now Brennan was furious. She took off her gloves and threw them at Booth's face, then marched out of the Ookey Room.

Booth sighed, then whispered to Clark, "Zack would've taken Brennan."

Booth walked out after Brennan, leaving Clark to talk to himself, "And now we're back to comparing me to The Amazing Zack. Maybe I should quit again? D-mn student bills."

poor clark

Part V

Angela walked into a bar. No, that's not a joke. And she wasn't looking for a priest or a rabbi. She was looking for Sweets.

She found him, sitting at the bar stirring his cocktail with a pink plastic stirrer.

"Nice drink," Angela said, sitting beside him. "Did it come with a free bra?"

"Ha ha, Angela." Sweets said flatly, looking up. "Why am I here?"

"That's an awfully deep question for a psychiatrist, Sweets." Angela smiled and reached for the fruity drink, pulling it over and taking a sip. "Mmm passion berry?"

Sweets sighed and rolled his eyes. He pulled out his cell phone and read the last text message aloud, "Meet me at the bar. Ange." Then he turned it so she could read it. Sweets pulled the drink back toward him. "What's up, Angela?"

Angela sighed and pulled the drink back. Sweets struggled for a millisecond as to whether or not he should steal it back, but in the end, he just let Angela drink it. "Look, Sweets, this is between you and me, right?"

"On my honor as a man with standards."

"Standards?" Angela grinned.

"I have standards. I'm a professional psychiatrist with a three doctora--"

"Spare me the life story, Holden. Think I can have another one of these girly drinks?" Angela slid away the empty glass.

"It's not girly... it's good. It just happens... happens to be pink."

"Right. I think I grew another vagina just looking at it."

"Angela, why am I here?"

The bartender handed Angela a new glass. Angela smiled flirtatiously at him, then sipped it seductively.

"Ah. I get it. Things not going good with Roxy?"

"Huh?" Angela looked back at Sweets. "What? No. No. Well, yes. Maybe.... Yeah."

"What's the issue? Has stagnance come into play? Miscommunication? Lack of communication? That's where most quarrels come about. Communication issues."

"I... I honestly don't know what's wrong. It's not her, it's me. Heh... like you haven't heard that one before, right? Seriously, though," she reached out and grabbed a peanut and put it in her mouth. "Roxy's great. I mean, we're great. She's... wow. You know?"

Sweets only looked on, as if to encourage her to elaborate

"OK, look, not to go into a lot of detail, but you've seen male-fantasy girl-on-girl stuff, right? It's like that. Just picture it, OK?" Oh... Sweets was trying not to. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "It's like that. But better. Way better. But... Something's missing, you know?"

Sweets cleared his throat, "Uh.... y-you're saying that your relationship with Roxy has come to some sort of standstill and you don't know what the reason for the halt is. Right?"

Angela said nothing, but grabbed another peanut.

"I'm going to throw this out there. Just--Just listen first before you, you know, kick me in the shins. Do you have feelings for Dr. Hodgins still?"

"Well, that's a loaded question. Yes. Of course, I do. I love Hodgins. I can't just turn it off like that. We're just not good together. And we both came to that conclusion together. That's better than one of us ending it and hurting the other, right? This way we're both miserable--or, were miserable. Because I'm not miserable any more. Was that a loaded answer?"

"Just a tad. Do you think your feelings for Dr. Hodgins could be barring you from deepening your relationship with Miss Lyon?"

Angela pulverized a nut between her molars while she thought that one over. Then, "Maybe. I'm not so sure that I'm too hot for either one right now. I mean, it's pretty difficult to just put all of your heart out there if you don't have it all to give, right?"

"Very well put, Angela."

"So, what should I do? Break up with Roxy? Mount Hodgins?"

Sweets coughed on his drink. After regaining his composure, he replied, "I'll have to say that that one's up to you, Angela. Last time I gave you that kind of advice, you got pretty pissed at me."

"You're still mad about that one, huh?"

"Not mad, but you could say that I've learned my lesson."

Angela leaned her elbow on the counter and smiled at Sweets softly, "I know that wasn't your fault. I was projecting."

"Once again, well put."

Angela stood up and grabbed her hand bag from the counter, "Either way, thanks for everything, Sweets."

He spun around to look at her and smiled. "You're welcome."

Which is exactly when Angela leaned forward and kissed him. It was only meant to be a peck of thanks, but it turns out that Sweets froze for about 1/1000th of a second, then he kissed back... and Sweets...

Well, it was once again well put by Angela. She smiled at Sweets after the kiss was broken, "You're a pretty hot kisser for a youngster."

She walked out of the bar, leaving Sweets muttering to himself, "She's just projecting, she's just projecting..."

Part VI

Brennan found Hodgins still sifting through the contents of the can. He looked up momentarily. Just long enough to know she was within earshot.

"I've got a 38 bone fragments, two teeth--"

"Teeth?" She leaned over and squinted at the teeth. "One partial right central incisor, one full left second premolar. Could be enough to establish identity if we can find a supposed victim."

Cam walked up to the group holding a tablet in her hand, "Anything on the bone scans, Dr. Brennan?"

"The samples are being cut as we speak. How about you?"

Cam flipped the clip board around, "Homogametic--XX."

Hodgins grinned and looked up, "Aw, Dr. Brennan! It's a girl!"

"So our victim is female," Brennan said, purposefully ignoring Hodgins' comment. After all, what could she have said in reply?

Hodgins cleared his throat, "Which makes sense."

"Why?" Cam asked.

He picked up a melted ring with tweezers. "I can't imagine a man having fingers this small. Size 4 1/2."

"That's an extremely small finger," Brennan said, reaching for the ring. "No identifiers. No inscriptions or stones."

"But what it does tell us," Cam said. "Is that our victim was most likely an ectomorph. Thin build, low fat storage."

"Or... a child," Hodgins said. It was silent for several seconds while everyone hoped and/or prayed that it was not.

"Did you find anything that could lead us to a cause of death?" Brennan asked.

"If you're referring to bullets, I didn't find any. But I did find a machete."

Cam and Brennan just looked at him.

He began laughing, "Kidding! I was just... the tension... you know?" Neither looked amused. "Oh... Kay..."

Part VII

Booth didn't knock. It wasn't in his nature. He just turned the handle and walked right in. Bad idea.

He got an eyeful of what could only be described as a Daisy/Sweets sandwich on the therapist's desk.

"Woah!" Booth spun around while Sweets quickly straightened his tie and tucked in his shirt.

Daisy walked out of the room, past Booth and smiled, "Agent Booth."

"Miss Wick." The door closed and Booth turned around with a tight lipped grin and large amused eyes. "Wow... Sweets!"

"It wasn't what it looked like."

"What? It wasn't you and Daisy Wick getting it on in your office?"

"Look--"

"What, Sweets? You don't have to lie to me. It's not like I've never thought about doing that same thing in my own office."

"With... whom, Agent Booth?" Sweets grinned.

"OK, changing the subject," Booth said quickly. "I wanted to talk about Dr. Brennan."

"I thought we were changing the subject," Sweets said, smiling.

"Funny. You should do stand-up, Sweets."

Sweets sat in a chair and Booth took a seat across from him. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I think Brennan's mad at me."

"Could it be because you turned her down on Thursday?"

"I didn't turn her down, Sweets. Like I said before, I didn't even get a chance to answer her."

"Which is just like turning her down."

"You know, you're sounding more and more like a woman, Sweets."

"Hey, it's my job to listen."

"Is it also your job to grow breasts?"

"Now you've crossed the line, Agent Booth. I thought we were here to talk about issues you and Dr. Brennan have been having?"

Booth sighed and sunk a little lower in his seat, "I don't think it would be right to take Brennan to that banquet, that's all."

"And why not? Don't you two go out all of the time?"

"That's what Cam said."

"You talked to Dr. Saroyan about this? Then why are you here?"

"Isn't it your job to listen?" Sweets rolled his eyes. "Fine, it's because Cam's a woman and... you're a man... sort of. Either way, I need a different point of view on the subject."

"Agent Booth, could you do me a favor?"

"Hmm, Sweets?"

"Could you just kill the feminine wise-cracks."

"Why?"

"I've been bombarded with them lately."

Booth leaned forward a bit. This could be interesting. "Yeah? Trouble with the girlfriend?"

"Last night, I had drinks with Angela and she made a few cracks about my drink--"

"What drink?"

"Doesn't matter."

"It was a fruity drink, right? Let me guess, strawberry melon burst?"

"Passion berry."

Booth snorted.

"Anyway--" Sweets' mind wandered back to the kiss. "Hey, do you think it's cheating if a woman kisses you but you didn't initiate the kiss, but you kissed back?"

Booth began to laugh, "What? Angela kissed you?!" Booth grinned ear-to-ear as he studied Sweets' guilty countenance.

"It's... It's the lips, they're irresistible to the ladies," Sweets said dolefully, touching a finger to his lower lip.

"Nice. Sweets the play-yah."

"I'm not a player, Agent Booth."

"Never would've pegged you for a player, Sweets, but I'm impressed."

"Well, from the looks of it, you're not playing the field as much as you ought to."

Booth's face grew dark, "What's that supposed to mean, Sweets?"

"When Dr. Brennan asked you to take her--"

"She didn't ask me, she said, 'So you'll take me, then?' That's not asking, that's more of a suggestion."

"I think that you know Dr. Brennan just a little better than that, Agent Booth."

Booth sighed, "Yeah..."

"I think you hurt her feelings."

"There you are with your feelings again, Sweets." Booth grinned teasingly, "Just kidding." Booth cleared his throat, "Do you think that taking her to... such an event... would be crossing a line of some sort?"

"Agent Booth, I think that if there was such a line, then it was crossed a long time ago."

"Yeah..." Then after a beat, "But now I've got another problem."

"And what's that?"

"Asking her to go with me without making it look like I'm doing it out of pity or anything like that. If you know Bones like I know Bones, you'd know that she'd deck me if I did anything remotely resembling pity."

"Good call."

Booth stood and walked toward the door, then he turned and grinned at Sweets, "I've heard wild things about Angela from Hodgins." He waggled his eyebrows, winked, and walked out the door.

Sweets murmured to himself, "It... was just a kiss... right?"

good for Sweets it is about time he got some

I like it so far
can't wait for more

Thanks! Sorry for the fast posts, I'm just trying to catch up to my ff.net story.

Part VIII

Booth walked through the Medico-Legal lab. The first person he spotted was Hodgins, so he walked up to his work area. "Any news, Bug Boy?" He tossed a poker chip in the air, caught it, then began threading it through his fingers while Hodgins answered.

"What? The ball and chain didn't tell you anything?" Hodgins leaned back in his chair and propped up his feet on the desk, crossing his ankles, and smiled cheekily.

Booth stopped threading the chip and growled at Hodgins.

Hodgins laughed.

"You know," Booth said, "I like you, Hodgins. You're just really lucky that security doesn't let me bring my weapon in here."

Hodgins continued to laugh as Booth walked away, toward Brennan's office.

Brennan looked up as he entered. "Our victim is a female," she said as she stood up from her desk. Booth followed her into the lab and onto the platform. The scanner did a double-beeped as they walked onto the platform. "I wish we had at least one complete long bone, but the only one, this humerus, is fractured, so height is difficult to determine." She tucked her fingers into the crooks of her elbows and looked up at Booth.

"So you know it's a girl?"

"Well, woman. After I cut very thin samples of bone with the microtome, I was able to see the sample more clearly. Remember that case with the bone grafts--"

"And Cullen's daughter," Booth finished with sadness in his voice.

"Yeah. Same--same situation, basically... although the technology is much improved since then."

"Yeah, Bones," he said quietly.

"She was a sweet girl, Amy," Brennan said, as a means of comforting Booth.

He smiled at her reassuringly.

"The victim, this victim, was twenty-five to thirty years old."

"That doesn't narrow it down much."

"Five years, Booth."

"Thanks, Bones." He turned to go out the door. "Let's just hope this one turns out better."

"Booth," Brennan said before he disappeared. He turned in the doorway. "Hodgins found a ring, although slightly melted, it was size four and a half, which suggests--"

"That she was an ectomorph--thin."

"I'm surprised you knew that."

"I've been listening, Bones." He smiled and turned.

"Booth--I wouldn't look at anybody over five foot seven, a hundred and thirty pounds."

"Thanks, Bones." He sighed and walked out of the room. Brennan watched until he was out of sight.

Part IX

"I'm not exactly the artistic type," Cam said that evening. She reached high, tacking a string of Chinese lanterns to a tall white pillar.

"Are you kidding? You're doing fine," Angela said as she lowered the lift. Cam stepped off and the two women walked toward the crate of decorations at the far end of the ballroom.

Cam picked up a box of fake flowers. "And we'll throw these out. Lord knows we don't want this place to look like a funeral home."

"Had enough of funerals?" Angela laughed.

"For a lifetime. Trust me, I could live the next sixty years without seeing another corpse, tombstone, or toe-tag."

"I don't know... toe-tags can be fansionable. Open-toed sandles..."

"Rigor mortis," Cam finished, laughing.

"You make a strong case, sweetie. Think you can help me with this box?"

Cam obliged and the two women moved the box to the other side of the room.

"I thought Roxy was supposed to be helping you?" Cam asked. She looked over at Angela, scrunched her face, then, "Trouble in paradise?"

"I hate that phrase, you know. It suggests that everything was once perfect."

"And perfection is a scientific impossibility, unless you're talking about certain math problems. You've been hanging out with Brennan way too much, Angela," Cam said, grinning. She laughed, then snorted and the two women tore into peals of laughter.

When the laughter died, Angela continued in a more serious tone, "I... kissed Sweets."

Cam began laughing and soon the women were laughing so hard that tears were streaming down their cheeks and Cam was rubbing her side.

The laughter calmed and Angela continued, "He might be twelve, but the guy could curl toes."

"Really?"

"Gah," Angela began as she thought about it, "Big lips... big mouth... you can finish this sentence..."

"Gotcha," Cam said as she helped Angela with a string of lights. "So, does this mean you want to jump Sweets now?"

"G-d no..." Angela said. She thought about it for a moment, "Think I should?"

Cam laughed.

"Noobs can be fun, right? Besides, I've never been a cougar before. Could be fun..."

"What about Hodgins?"

Angela eyed Cam, which made Cam clam up quickly. "Hodgins and I are over."

"True enough, but that doesn't explain the sexual tension in the workplace. Between you two and the Crimefighting Duo, I have to race home and take a cold shower everyday after work. P.S. I'm sending you the water bill."

The women laughed again, then Angela said, "Think you can help me with this string?"

"Anything for you... Maude," Cam said, pulling a chair closer for Angela.

Part X

Booth threw seven files on the desk in front of Brennan's face.

"What are these?" She set the pen aside, putting away whatever work she had once been concentrating on.

"Seven women missing within a one hundred mile radius of the Beltsville area that fit the description. Abigail Dashiell, 26." Booth pointed at each file. "Shi Xiang, 29. Shamira Hirsch, 28. Claire Spybuck, 28. Saffron Gabriel, 27. Josie Silva, 29. Irinushka Mirloslav, 25."

"They... all could fit the description..." Brennan replied as she thumbed through the files.

"Footwork, Bones?" Booth grinned.

"I'll get my jacket." She grinned back.

--

The windshield wipers whooshed back and forth, piling icy slush on either side of the windshield as they drove.

"Maybe you should slow down, Booth?"

"Bones, I'm doing just fine."

Brennan sighed and didn't say anything for several seconds. "Maybe I should drive?"

"Why are you always trying to correct my driving? I've been driving--"

"I can dri--" Their voices rose.

"I've been driving since--"

"Maybe if you--"

"Since I was fifteen, Bones!"

"I'm a very good driver!"

"Fifteen!!!!"

A second lapsed before either dared to say a thing.

At last Brennan spoke, sincerely concerned for her safety, "You know that Maryland State Driving laws suggest that one lowers his or her speed at least--"

"Are you seriously going to do this, Bones?"

"Yes, I am. I'd rather that you didn't kill me today."

Booth scoffed, "Bones, Bones, Bones... if I wanted to kill you, I'd choose something a little more sure-fire than a car wreck."

They exchanged sly glances. "You know, I'm not exactly helpless, Booth."

"I know... that's why I was kidding, Bones."

She only looked annoyed.

Booth glanced over at her, "Bones, I was kidding. Really. I--I honestly don't know what I'd do without you. OK? I'd... I'd miss you if anything... you know..." He sighed and they just listened to the squeaking of the wiper blades against the glass.

Brennan finally spoke, "I think you're a very good driver, Booth."

He smiled at her, "Thanks, Bones."

Part XI

Cam slid her card through the scanner and found her way over to where Hodgins and Clark were sitting. Clark was looking at a mis-mash of something-or-other, and Hodgins was sorting through the prizes yielded by the coffee can.

Hodgins grinned as Cam approached, "Did you know that it takes 30% less energy to make a polystyrene container than a cardboard container?"

"Fascinating," Cam said shortly. "And why do I care?"

Hodgins picked up what looked like a black blob with a pair of tweezers, "Plastic... well, in this case not polystyrene and I don't care for the word 'plastic.'"

"What is it, Hodgins?" Cam bent a little to get a better look at the blob.

"Nylon 6-6 a.k.a. polyamide. A plastic for which municipal recycling is almost non-existent. Just a little side-order there."

"Hodgins, please don't make me ask--"

Clark was quick to supply for Cam the needed information, "Nylon 6-6 has a number of applications. Carpet, apparel, airbags, tires, ropes, hoses, zip-ties--"

"Which," Hodgins cut in with a warning glance to Clark. "I think is the most likely culprit."

Cam shook her head slowly, "Which...?"

"Zip-ties. I mean, it only makes sense, right? I mean, if I were to kill someone--not that I'll kill someone, although some of these interns push it from time to time," Clark was the one to shoot a warning look this time. Hodgins chuckled and continued, "Not enough of this little black chunk for rope, so it only makes sense that it's a zip-tie, right?"

"Anything else?"

"Iron oxide."

"Rust? From the coffee can?" Cam asked, crossing her arms.

"Hey, baby--" Cam glared at him. "And I-I only use that as a turn of phrase--if all iron oxide was the same, I'd be unemployed." He clicked around on the computer in front of him. The screen brought up what looked like a series of ridges, peaks, and mountains. "This iron oxide has trace amounts of hydrogenated carbons. That and the ash both have trace amounts of carbon monoxide, oxides of nitrogen, sulphur dioxide, carcinogens, mercury, and zinc." Hodgins sat on the edge of his seat, getting excited about the particulates he had found, "Not to mention, I found polychlorinated dibenzo dioxins, a number of semi volatile organic compounds, and several types of polychlorinated dibenzo furans. And get this: chlorobenzenes, lead, copper, chromium, polychlorinated biphenyls--"

"HODGINS!" Cam said. She blinked hard and reached up and rubbed her temple. "Don't make me throw a stapler at you."

"Dang," Clark whispered under his breath. "Boss lady's strict."

"It's scarier than you think-- flying staplers," Hodgins whispered to Clark.

"Exactly what conclusion have you drawn from this list of poly- and di- whatchamacallits?"

"A burn barrel." Hodgins replied simply.

Cam breathed in a cleansing breath, "Thank you. So, the victim was zip-tied and burned in a burn barrel--"

"Most likely made of steel," Clark said.

Cam didn't reply, she simply walked away.

Before stepping off from the platform, she turned around, "Next time, Hodgins, how about you jump straight to the point instead of throwing around scientific words, or that stapler threat will become a reality." With her back to Hodgins and Clark, Cam's eyes grew wide and she whispered, "Wow."

Clark leaned close to Hodgins, "And you're taking her to the annual banquet?"

"Hey, I like the difficult ones. You've met Ange, right?"

"Yeah... good luck with that."

Then after a beat, Hodgins replied, "She's... pretty scary, huh?"

"Some people like that." Clark shrugged.

Hey, Sarah!
Its a great story so far! I am reading it syncroically here and in fanfiction.net. So i am loving this. As you know. I am loving all that you write.

Thank you!!! And I love your avatar lol.

Hahaa. I think my avatar is stupidly funny.

It's fantastic!

Part XII

This chapter was inspired by a spoiler, but it's not quite the same... So if something looks familiar...

The SUV pulled, or limped, to the side of the busy interstate.

"Just stay in here," Booth said, almost out of habit.

He got out and Brennan immediately jumped out and rounded to the back as Booth opened the back and pulled out the spare tire from a hidden compartment beneath the flooring.

"Bones, you should go back inside. It's freezing."

"I'm fine, Booth. Can I help you?"

Booth slammed the back of the SUV and looked along the road. Traffic buzzed by. "Bones, you should go back inside. It's not safe."

"Booth, I've been shot, tortured, and kidnapped, I think I can handle a little traffic," she replied disbelievingly.

He studied her for a moment, sadness dancing in his eyes, "Bones, you don't know what it's like to be-- Never mind, Bones. Just... go inside, OK?"

He rolled up his sleeves as he walked the driver's side and squatted in front of the flat tire. He looked around for a moment, and a tire iron materialized in front of him. He grabbed it and looked up at the hand which had extended it. "Bones--"

"Just let me help out, Booth."

He smiled weakly, trying to push out whatever terrible memory had bubbled up inside of him. And for once, Brennan read that moment perfectly. She squatted beside him and held out her cupped palm. He dropped the loose bolts inside of her palm without saying a word against it.

"A few years ago," Brennan said. "You asked me if I wanted to know what you'd been through. I wasn't ready."

Booth silently dropped another bolt into her palm. A car drove by and the wind blew Brennan's hair into her face. Instinctively, Booth reached up and pulled a strand back that had stuck to her bottom lip.

He breathed in deeply, then turned his attention back to the tire, which he changed slower, more methodically. "I try not to think about it," Booth said as he rolled the new tire into place.

"You were.... tortured." Her breath billowed in front of her like a white cloud in the cold weather.

"Yeah," he said weakly.

"I remember from your x-rays," she replied softly.

Another car flew by and this time Brennan tucked her hair back. Booth laughed wryly. The smile quickly disappeared. "Everything changes when you watch your best friend die, Bones."

After several seconds of silence, Booth picked a bolt from Brennan's hand, then continued, "It was... terrible... I... I loved the man. Like a brother. I swore that I'd never let anyone that I loved ever die again... Not... on my watch... Not like that." He reached for the last bolt, his eyes moist but no tears brimming over.

Brennan watched him tighten down each bolt, then he turned to her. "You really shouldn't be out here, Bones. You might get hurt."

Another car whizzed by and Booth beat her to it, tucking her hair behind her ear. She reached up and touched his hand, holding his hand against her hot cheek.

Booth didn't pull his hand away for about a second. He simply let his hand rest against her soft cheek. Then, acting from spontaneity, he slid his thumb along her cheek.

"We... we should," Booth said weakly.

"Yeah," she replied, dropping her hands.

He stood, then offered a hand to her, raising her to her feet. He watched as she rounded the SUV, then got in and pulled back onto the highway.

awwwwwwwwwwwwww, so awwwwwwwwww

Part XIII

Sweets slumped over to Hodgins' work station. He had come looking for Booth or Brennan, but instead the only face that looked even remotely familiar belonged to Hodgins.

He walked over slowly and leaned pathetically on Hodgins' enclosure. One look, and Hodgins began laughing, eyebrows raised, nasal chuckling.

"What?" Sweets asked.

"You look like a guy in trouble."

"Why do you say that?"

"Tie's loose, hair's disheveled, and you look like the last guy that leaned on that thing."

"Who?"

"Booth. After Cam's sister kissed him."

Sweets didn't seem disturbed in the least. He just continued looking pathetic.

"You're not gonna leave, are you?" Hodgins asked when he looked up seconds later. Hodgins sighed and put down his work. "What do you want?"

"Someone to talk to."

"You couldn't find another corporate leach to talk to?"

"If you're talking about a shrink, it's highly frowned upon for an FBI psychiatrist to have a psychiatrist."

"That's what's wrong with the system today. Everyone wants a Checks and Balances System, but when push comes to shove, it's all taboo." Hodgins rolled out the desk chair next to him. "Have a seat, dude."

Sweets slumped over to it and sat down. "I'm not even sure if I'm supposed to tell you this."

"Just shoot."

"Daisy went all Darth Vader on me."

Hodgins suppressed the urge to fall on the ground, shrieking with laughter. "Yeah? And why can't you tell me that?"

"I told her... I told her that Angela... kissed me."

This time Hodgins laughed loudly, then covered up his mouth. "She what?"

"She just... laid one on me."

"Why?" Hodgins asked, mostly rhetorically.

"The lips," Sweets said, touching his lip. "They're kissably pouty. That's... what April said."

Hodgins grinned, held back more laughter. "Did you kiss back?"

Sweets leaned forward. "You're not gonna, like--"

"Give you a swirly? Stick you in your locker? Give you an atomic wedgie? Nah, man. Angie and I are over. Did you kiss back?"

"I couldn't help it. I didn't have any control over my own tongue."

"Woah," Hodgins said. "TMI, dude. But I know where you're coming from." Hodgins' grin softened into a bitter sweet smile, "She's... she's a good kisser." Hodgins sighed, "So... do you want Angie?"

"No. I want Daisy to let me into the apartment."

"Good call. Listen," Hodgins leaned forward. "Angie tends to project under stress. Did she... mention anything about Roxy?"

"I can't... doctor-patient confidentiality..." Sweets paused, then he nodded ever so slightly.

"Did she..." Hodgins made a few facial gestures.

Sweets nodded once again, made a few facial gestures back.

Hodgins smiled and patted Sweets on the shoulder. "Hey, you're alright, Sweets."

"Thanks... So, what should I do about Daisy?"

Hodgins grinned and patted Sweets on the shoulder. "I feel like coffee. You?"

The two men walked out of the lab, aimed in the direction of the Royal Diner.

Still like it!
And I want more!

Thanks. There's plenty more.

Part XIV

Booth and Brennan walked up to the Dashiell residence. It was a large condominium complex at the center of town. Booth flashed his badge to allow himself and Brennan access into the building. The security guard regarded them suspiciously, then buzzed them through.

When the elevator stopped on the fourth floor, Brennan said, "If we could get dental records, we could narrow it down from the teeth."

"Teeth?"

"Hodgins and Clark found two teeth. One partial. One complete. Although fractured from the heat of the fire, it's whole. We could establish identity fairly easily."

"Great. Two teeth. One whole. Seven women." Booth knocked at the front door of 428B. "But a little footwork never hurt anyone. Good old fashioned detective work." He knocked again.

"Right. Like... shoe-gum."

"What?" Booth looked at her.

The door opened and a man in his thirties answered the door. "Can I help you?"

"You really shouldn't open the door for strangers. It's not safe," Brennan said. Booth gave her a look. "What? He-- didn't even look out of the peephole," she muttered.

"It's a fairly safe building," the man said.

Booth flashed his badge, "FBI. I'd like to ask a few questions about Abigail Dashiell."

"Abigail. Yes. Come in." The man led them to the living room which was furnished elaborately.

Booth and Brennan took a seat. "Can I get you anything?"

"No," Booth said.

"I could use some water."

Booth shot her another look once the man disappeared.

"I'm thirsty," she explained.

Booth looked around. "I think this carpet's worth more than my life."

The man returned and took a seat opposite Booth and Brennan. "Did you find Abby?"

"We're just following some leads," Booth said. "And you're Abigail Dashiell's--"

"Boyfriend," the man supplied. "Tim Tucker. I--I was hoping to ask her to marry me... See how that went," the man said in strained tones.

"We found remains," Brennan said bluntly.

The man dropped the hand that he was rubbing the back of his neck with. "What?"

"Bones," Booth said.

"No, no. It's OK. I'd rather that you don't waste your time beating around the bush," Tucker said.

Brennan took out a photograph of the ring and handed it to the man. "Do you recognize this?"

The man looked at the photograph blankly, "Did you... find this with her body?"

"Does it look familiar? The ring has been melted--"

"Melted?" The man repeated weakly. Then he swallowed and looked much calmer. "What kind of metal did you say this was?"

"Why do you ask?" Booth asked.

"Abby was allergic to nickel. She didn't wear much jewelery because she was allergic to that and a couple other metals. She had sensitive skin."

"Silver plated nickel alloy," Brennan said.

"Wrong girl," Booth said. Then to Tucker, "I'd like to have our specialists at the Jeffersonian compare dentals just in case, if you don't mind."

"Anything to help you out," Tucker replied sadly. "If... if I can do anything to end this nightmare for someone...."

Part XV

After lunch, the Spybuck residence was next on the list. The house was small and clean and a man answered the door.

"How can I help you folks?" He asked.

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth with Major Crime Investigation. This is my partner, Dr. Brennan. Can we come in?"

The man allowed him into the living room. It seemed like a very well kept living room, spotless with the exception of a few Barbies piled in one corner.

The man took a seat and offered his guests a drink, which both declined. "Is this about Claire?"

Booth cleared his throat, "I didn't get your name."

"Aaron Spybuck. Claire was my wife."

"We found remains," Brennan started.

"What remains?" The man asked, searching their faces.

"It's nothing to be concerned with, Mr. Spybuck. We're just trying to establish identity at this point."

"Of course. Uh," The man rose and picked up a photo frame from the side table. He took out the photo and handed it to Brennan. "Anything to move the investigation along. That's Claire and Amanda, our little girl."

Brennan looked at the photograph. It seemed to have been taken outdoors at a water park. Amanda, who seemed to be around age twelve, was grinning ear-to-ear. Claire's face held a smile as well, a softer smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Can I borrow this?"

"Of course. The, uh... I gave the local police a statement."

"You can give us an overview if you like," Brennan said.

"Well," the man began. "Last October Claire and I had a fight. Even the neighbors heard it. It was stupid, really. I'm ashamed."

"Then what?" Booth asked.

"She took her purse and drove off. I got a text message from her an hour later--even the police saw it--. It said," he blinked away tears. "It said, 'I love you honey. I'm sorry. Kisses, Claire.' That was the last I heard from her. Two weeks later, the police found her car in a ditch, her purse was in the car. It was missing credit cards and her ID-- Oh, G-d, what did they do to her?"

"I'm not even sure it was your wife, Mr. Spybuck," Brennan said, shaking her head slowly.

"What you could do is get Claire's dental records forwarded to the Jeffersonian, save us some work," Booth smiled, handing over his card.

"I thought you guys just got it yourselves?" Spybuck asked.

"We can. This just saves us a few loopholes. If you don't have it sent our way by tomorrow, I have to fill out a bunch of papers, jump through legal hoops."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll--I'll do that," he reached out and took the card.

Part XVI

"What's wrong?" Roxy asked. She eyed her girlfriend from across the table of the Royal Diner.

"Nothing," Angela said. She reached across the table and stole an apple from Roxy's Waldorf salad.

Roxy cocked her head to the side, "Are you freaking kidding me, Angie?" She leaned forward, "I know you well enough to know that something's up."

"Nothing's up."

"Angie, from day one you've always made a point with not letting a single quiet night pass by and last night was like staying the night with my grandmother."

"It was that hot, huh?" Angela asked wryly.

"Angela, talk to me." She reached across the table and took her hand.

"I--I have something to tell you and it's not going to be easy."

"I'm game," Roxy replied.

Angela sighed, "What we've got... It's great--"

"You're not going to give me the, 'It's not you, it's me' speech, are you?" The Roxy's teasing grin disappeared. "Are you?"

Angela's face looked pained, "I kissed Sweets."

"Your sort-of psychiatrist?"

Angela nodded.

Roxy shrugged. "It doesn't bother me that you kissed someone else. It doesn't bother me that you cheated on me with a man, either. What bothers me is the fact that there's something going on that caused you to do that."

Now Angela really felt guilty because she was hurting someone she really cared about. "I'm sorry."

Roxy's hand retreated from Angela's. "What's going on?"

Angela looked at the table. "These last few weeks... they've been amazing, Roxy."

"But amazing doesn't cut it?"

Angela shook her head and answered almost in a whisper, "No. It doesn't."

"You're not in love with me?"

Angela paused for a fraction of a second, studying Roxy's hurt expression. Then, "I'm sorry, Roxy."

"Say it, Angie. I need to hear the truth. No more lies."

"I never lied to you."

"Say it."

"I don't... I don't love you."

Roxy bit her bottom lip, then she smiled at Angela, "Then, I think it's best that we don't waste our time here any more." She stood and grabbed her purse.

"Roxy, wait--"

Roxy paused, "It doesn't hurt like I thought it would. I'm just glad that this is happening now when we were having fun, you know? Rather than later when it would really hurt." She bent down and kissed Angela's cheek. "I just hope you find happiness."

She straightened and watched as two men walked past the window. Then she smiled down at Angela. "Speak of the devil."

Angela looked at Roxy confusedly and watched her walk out of the diner as the two familiar men entered.