A Snaky Triptych

AKA three chapters about Brennan and snakes. I suppose it should be four, but I haven't decided how I feel about Doctor in the Den yet...

Anyway, standard disclaimers, yadda, yadda, yadda...

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Chapter 1: The Skull in the Desert


GOODMAN: You’re taking a vacation in the desert with no notice?

HODGINS: I don’t get the attraction. I really don’t. Snakes, scorpions—

BRENNAN: It should only be for a few days.

HODGINS: Buzzards and snakes.

…

Brennan desperately wished Hodgins would shut up about the snakes as she headed for the door, bags in hand. She was all for increasing scientific knowledge, but if he hadn’t been involved in that damned sampling a couple years ago, she could have kept her phobia to herself and continued to maintain the professional stoicism she so valued for a little longer.

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When she entered the side lab that day, Hodgins turned to face her with a snake in his hands. A snake that squirmed and hissed at her from less than two feet away. She dropped the file she was holding, and took an involuntary step back, then a second, heart rate jumping. Pride alone kept her from bolting when it seemed to ooze out of his hands a little. Well, that, and the slowly sinking-in awareness that this was a non-venomous colubrid.

“Dr. Brennan?” Hodgins hastily dropped the snake into a terrarium, where it coiled and hissed unhappily. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll be fine, Dr. Hodgins.” She stooped to pick up the file, forcing her hand to stop shaking and hiding the other in the depths of her lab coat’s pocket. “Does Dr. Goodman know you’re playing with snakes?”

“Yes, I’m assisting with the mitochondrial DNA research for the further classification of the family Colubridae.” She could see other safely contained snakes behind him. “Getting samples, mostly, since the actual DNA work is not my field. All duly authorized.” He looked at her again. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine; I just wasn’t expecting snakes in the lab.” His eyes traveled from her fingers, wrapped white-knuckled around the file, to her slightly dilated pupils, to the faint sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“I understand,” he said carefully. “They’ll be here another week at least,” he informed her, turning back to his work.

She managed a stiff nod of acknowledgement before escaping for the safety of her office.

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No. Despite Hodgins’ harking on about Squamata Serpentes, she was going to help Angela. In the desert. Snakes or no snakes.

She knew she could keep herself under control so long she wasn’t suddenly presented with one. All right, she would take it as a warning, then. Because she was going; her best friend needed her. Nothing and no one was going to get in her way. Not even snakes.

This one came about when blc reminded me of Brennan's interactions with a snake in New Orleans. I still say the writers should have made her afraid of almost anything else in Mummy--bats, chickens, piranhas!

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Chapter 2: The Man in the Morgue


“I need to check the tags,” Brennan said, frustrated. John Doe 361 was real, she knew it, even if she couldn’t remember him. But there were x-rays, real ones, of a real body; she had sent them to DC, to her team. She clung to that thought as she headed for the freezer room. There are x-rays; therefore there is a body. Simple logic. The simplest.

“Ah, Dr. Brennan, you might want to be careful--Sam’s in there, performing a last blessing for the deceased, and his pet snake could be a little skittish.”

Great. What else can go wrong? she wondered. Missing memories, vanishing corpses, interfering partners, not to mention somehow getting beaten and losing Mom’s earring, and now a snake. All I need now is to be arrested. Her lips tightened and her momentum checked slightly. But her need to know, to examine, to see for herself, overrode that initial spurt of fear. Besides, I know it’s in there. No surprises.

She dialed the lab and set the phone on speaker. The more she had to keep herself occupied, the less likely she would lose any composure. It was an old technique, and so far, it hadn’t failed her. And as she talked to Zack and Angela, Booth trailing her with the phone and inserting a few comments of his own, she began to rapidly examine all the body tags. She didn’t think anyone noticed that she was starting on the far side of the temporary room. That was easily explained, anyway.

She did manage to get wrapped up enough between the phone call and the search that she didn’t realize that she had actually pushed past Sam and his snake until she was done examining tags.

Once finished talking with the lab, she waved a hand at Booth to turn off the phone. His eyes were locked on Sam, snake about his shoulders, chanting prayers. Personally, Brennan figured they were about as valid as any other belief system, but would never dream of interrupting what was plainly an important ritual for him. The anthropologist in her was too strong.

Booth apparently had fewer compunctions about it. “How do we know this is not the guy shoving mojo bags into dead people?”

“Those spells are the work of a sorcerer. Priests--houngans--can make healing mojos, but I'm not allowed.”

“But snake shaking, that's fine?”

She took a step closer to Sam and looked at the snake he was holding. She couldn’t identify the exact species, but he did have a grip on it. And it wasn’t hissing, at least, or tasting the air with its tongue. Aware of Booth watching her, she stretched out a hand and delicately stroked its underside with a gloved hand, as much to freak in? out? her partner as to prove something to herself. She focused intently on the snake, tuning out the two men. This isn’t so bad, she realized with some surprise and let her fingers curl around it. Not that I would want to be alone with it or handle it myself. But maybe they aren’t so terrifying after all. For some reason, she trusted Sam to keep it under control.

“Hey, Bones, how's about while you're a murder suspect, you, uh, act more like a normal woman and less like Lily Munster, okay?” Booth said, snapping her out of her reverie.

The name rang a vague bell as she let the snake curl about her wrist. More of her unease slid away as the snake continued to behave. Feeling quite daring now, she actually stroked the head with her bare hand, much as she would pet a mouse or a bird.

She never thought about how she was upsetting Booth, of all people, until he caught at her arm to pull her away. “Good bye. Good snake. Bye-bye. That's it,” Booth added, pushing her towards the exit. “Call me crazy, but I'm suspicious of snake man.”

She sighed. “That's because you've been inculcated by the mainstream culture’s prevailing Judeo-Christian tradition into instinctive skepticism of alternative mores,” she said loftily, knowing it would irk him. Her split lip made it surprisingly easy to stifle the smile the tugged at her mouth. Maybe things aren’t all bad. I’ve managed to annoy Booth thoroughly and maybe made strides towards ending an old phobia. Now all we have to do is find John Doe 361 and go home. Nothing to it.

Chapter 3: The Mummy in the Maze


Booth regarded his partner with a fishy stare. It had been an exceptionally long and crappy night. He’d had to give way (show throat) to Bones and get kicked out of an office as a result, been outgunned in a firefight, shot twice (oh, all right, hers had been a ricochet and certainly not intentional, but still…), killed someone in a clown suit, and he wasn’t sure his back hadn’t been knocked out of whack when he had to carry Bones. Granted, they had rescued the girl, but the scales weren’t quite balanced so far as he was concerned.

His mind kept returning to the last thought but one, however: why, why, why had Bones freaked out so badly with the snakes? She had practically been a damned snake handler in New Orleans a couple years ago, what was different?

“Booth! Stop looking at me like that,” she said in a tone that suggested she had already said it at least once. He focused his gaze back on her--she was as big a mess as he was, though without the blood. She had pulled off the tiara when they entered the diner and now it sat on the table near her plate. She still looked hot, under all the dirt and fatigue, though. The top of her outfit--wow. And those legs… Wonderful, he thought again.

“Sorry, Bones.” He forked up a bit of pie and savored the taste. God, he deserved it tonight--and the ice cream on the side. Thank God it’s Halloween. Only time of year we could come in looking like this and not have them immediately dial 911. “Gotta ask, what was with you tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

“The snakes,” he clarified; she flinched.

“What about them?” she asked cautiously.

He leaned back, wincing, and favored her with a lighter version of his interrogation stare. “Well, I don’t know, Bones. A couple years ago in N’Awlins,” he exaggerated for effect, “you were all over that voodoo guy and his pet snake. Tonight--you completely freak out and act like a girl with a mouse running under her feet. With non-poisonous snakes, no less.”

“Non-venomous,” she corrected him automatically.

“Same difference to the laymen in the room, Bones. Venom, poison--six of one, half a dozen of the other.”

“Six is half--oh, I get it.” She sipped the tea she had opted for.

“So?” Now he leaned forward. “What happened? I’ve been with you for the better part of the last three years, Bones, and I don’t remember seeing anything that would have given you a phobia in all that time.”

“It wasn’t in the last three years,” she said quietly. “And I’m a better actress than you realize if you thought I was completely calm with Sam’s snake.”

“But you had your hands all over it,” he protested. “Hell, you were petting it!”

“Systematic desensitization therapy, Sweets might call it,” she replied, wrapping her hands about the cup as though for warmth. “And I can stand being in the room with a snake so long as I know it’s there.” His sharp eyes caught the suppressed shudder that ran through her. “It--helps if they’re not hissing, either.” She looked down, studying her hands for a moment. “I was terrified, Booth,” she finally said. “The only thing that kept me in there was the fact that I was warned; well, that, and I had something to do. Why else do you think you were following me with the phone? I could have had that discussion at almost any time.” A more visible shudder ran over her. “It’s an irrational fear--or perhaps in my case, an extreme form of a natural fear. After all, that’s what phobias are. You should know, given your coulrophobia,” she added.

“Can we lay off the clowns?” he growled. The corners of her mouth twitched upwards.

“Ophidiophobia--fear of snakes--is somewhat more rational than coulrophobia,” she pointed out. “After all, snake bites are usually painful and sometimes fatal. An unarmed clown generally can’t do that much damage to a fully-grown man in his prime. Such as yourself,” she added, the smirk growing. “But if you’d like, we can find another topic of discussion.”

“Thank you.”

Their conversation wandered down the usual paths for a while before Booth brought it back.

“Megan was lucky you were able to overcome your fear,” he remarked idly.

“I compartmentalize very well, as you know,” she murmured. “And I knew we couldn’t allow ourselves to be trapped in that room. There was no cover--and all the snakes, of course.”

“You heard Charlie--a snake crawled up the drain and scared her when she was a girl; what caused yours?” He put on his best it’s just an innocent question look, coupled with puppy-dog eyes, until she sighed.

“Fine. The bluff notes version.”

“Cliff notes, Bones--I think you mean cliff notes.”

“Did you want an answer or not?” she demanded, giving him an evil look. “I’d be perfectly content to not talk about it.”

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I won’t interrupt again.”

“If only that were true,” she muttered very, very quietly. “All right,” she continued in a louder voice. “When I was seven, one of Russ’s friends dropped a snake on me. An adult Python regius. Ball python,” she clarified.

“Russ, huh? Sure you don’t know where he is, Bones?” he asked, fist tightening.

“He wasn’t involved--not with the snake anyway.” Now she smiled slightly. “He was behind some of the other and admittedly rather poor attempts to scare me, however. He and Darren rounded up some rather robust examples of Rana catesbeiana, for example.”

“This Darren--he had sisters, probably younger ones, right?” She nodded slowly, a slightly suspicious look on her face. “Don’t give me that look, Bones; I’m a big brother myself, even if I had no sisters. I’m just saying I know the mindset. Go on.”

“Fine. He was rather disappointed when I didn’t scream like his sisters. I’ve never minded frogs, and the lizards and spiders were quite obviously made of rubber, even when they suddenly arrived on the pages of the book I was reading. I usually just flung them back.”

Booth chuckled, enjoying the images that brought up.

“I think Russ told him they wouldn’t work and saw no harm in it. What I didn’t know and Russ didn’t think about was that Darren had this snake. And he was bound and determined to get some reaction--or so I surmised much later on.”

“I think I know where this is going. He brought out the snake, didn’t he?”

“Yes. Somehow he got it and himself into our tree without anyone noticing. I climbed into the hammock we had, and next thing I know, there’s this…thing…half-wrapped about me, and it kept moving.” Her fingers tightened on the cup as her eyes dropped. “Hissing in my ear. I didn’t know anything about snakes then, and so when it tested the air, I thought it was tasting me. I screamed loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear me. Darren thought it was hysterical,” she added flatly.

“I’m sure he did. What happened then?” Booth asked, feeling a new surge of resentment at the moron who dared treat his Bones like that.

“Russ and Dad came running out of the house and Dad nearly strangled the snake in pulling it off of me. Russ yanked Darren out of the tree and punched him. I think he might have broken his nose.” There was a touch of satisfaction in her voice at that thought. “The snake disappeared for several days and I wouldn’t step foot outside until it was caught. Lastly, Russ and Darren weren’t friends anymore.” Now her lips quirked. “And if we don’t stop talking about snakes, I’m going to bring up clowns again.”

He let it go, respecting threat and promise both. Instead, he offered her a wide grin. “Y‘know, Bones, I learned something else tonight.” He waited a beat. “Someone watched too much Lynda Carter when she was a girl!”

“Booth!” Her brilliant flush made the scales even out just a little. Yep, rescued the girl and made Bones blush. Not such a bad date (or whatever), after all.

hmmm me like me like alot, that was very cute

"Russ, huh? Sure you don’t know where he is, Bones?” he asked, fist tightening.

I thought that line was sweet, he was gonna go handle Russ. lol
I too hate snakes, I freeze at the sight of them, freeze and cry until I can run. . . .not a good reaction