Must Be the Truth
This is not so much a complete story as a scene from one that may yet happen, but I thought I should put it here for the sake of completeness and because I've been far too quiet for too long.
The story/scene came very off-the-cuff and spur-of-the-moment (and probably a few other polyhyphenated things as well) in response to a picture of Bones' Zack Addy that appeared in the same userpic prompt challenge that spawned Not My Will But Thine. If nothing else, it gave me the chance to play with a different set of characters.
If you've never seen Bones, this will make no sense at all.
Must Be the Truth
“…and the condition of the larvae narrows it down to April or May.” Jack stepped back from the bench
Tempe nodded. “April or May, 1956. And the spectrography?”
She waited a New York minute, tutted, and turned to the youngest member of the team. His eyes were closed, head nodding as the muscles under his cheeks flexed.
“Zack.”
“Za-ack.” Jack leaned forward, snapped his fingers. “Earth to Zack.”
“Mr. Addy!” Tempe's sharp tone made even Booth jump a little.
“Twenty-seven minutes!” Zack's eyes snapped open, fixed onto the far wall. “To the Metro Centre, then, assuming the usual rush-hour variations the Orange Line will…” A twitch of the head, and the eyes swivelled, flicked from one face to the next. “Uh, I have to get to the Riceton Centre by 6:45, was calculating the latest I can leave.”
“And…?” Tempe pointed at the skeleton on the bench in front of them.
“Oh. Nothing remarkable, the levels of trace elements on the soil we found with the remains are consistent with those in the-”
“You're going to a concert?” Jack stepped around the bench, reached for the newspaper and began flipping backwards through it.
“Not really. The backstage pass was just the easiest-” Zack swallowed, took a breath. “The stains on the clothing were ordinary-”
“McFly?” Jack held up the paper, pointed to the quarter page ad. Angela squinted, walked over and took the paper.
The room fell silent. Booth rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, glanced at Tempe, who seemed as intrigued as the rest. He turned back to the young man. “The skirt and blouse…?”
Zack's eyes shot him a quick thank-you. “The stains were protein, mostly casein, sugar, rather high in butyric-”
“They're cute.” Angela lifted the ad, smoothed it with her hand as the others tutted. “Well, they are.”
“Ice cream?” Tempe asked. Zack nodded. She shook her head. “Why are you going to see a British pop band?”
“A boy band,” Angela said. “Time travel?”
Booth's face fell, and one eye began to twitch. He felt behind him, and leaned back against the counter, folded his arms and sighed.
Zack took a deep breath. “I'm not going to the concert as such. I know one of them, he told me they'd be in town, we arranged to meet. He sent me the pass, said I may as well see their show.”
“A date? You have a date with a British pop star?” Jack stepped forward, raised his hand palm forward. “Aren't you full of surprises, you dog!”
“Which one?”
“It's not a date.”
“The concept is probably new to you. You're crossing town, meeting someone, going to a concert.” Jack's counted on his fingers, and looked up. “That's a date. Am I right?”
Tempe frowned, the others nodded. Jack carried on. “But you, get sent a backstage pass, meeting one of the band? That's not a date, it's a frickin-”
“Jack…” Angela shot him a look. “It's sweet. Which one?”
“It's not a date.” Zack's cheeks and neck were turning pink.
“What do you possibly have in common with a British-”
“Which one is your… friend?”
Tempe cleared her throat. “Can we focus on-”
Zack clamped his eyes shut and shifted his speed up a gear. “Reptilia order squamata suborder sauria family agamidae subfamily agaminae genus pogona.”
Booth winced, then gave his head a shake.
“Pogona vitticeps,” Zack said, “if you must know.”
“Squamata… Lizards?” Jack frowned. “Bearded dragons?”
Zack nodded. “I was thinking about getting one, did some research on line. We met in a forum.”
Angela cooed. “You wanted a pet. Oh Zack, that's so-”
“Weird.” Jack grinned. “This sounds like a match made in heaven. Or whatever rational empiricists have instead.”
“I have some results from deKalb's group in Brisbane, their viridescence breeding program…”
“Uh…” Booth stood up.
“Making green ones,” Jack said. “Doesn't happen in nature; stands out too much against the des-”
Tempe shook her head. “You can't do it.”
“But deKalb has published…”
“No, I mean…” She tapped her watch. “It's too late. You don't drive, it's across town, and the Orange Line is blocked just west of the Center. Jumper, it was on the news earlier.”
Zack frowned. “But… a bus. Taxi.”
“Not this time of day, buddy.” Jack sidled up to the younger man and patted him on the shoulder. “Especially with the Metro down. Tough break.”
“But… How? I…” Zack slumped. He tilted his head to look up. “You couldn't…”
Jack lifted his hands in surrender. “Baby's still in the body shop.” He turned towards the door.
Angela shook her head. “Car pool”. She glanced at Zack, and began to straighten her notebook.
“Oh.” The young man sagged a little, ran his hand through his mop of hair, and turned away. “It was only a…”
Booth took a step forward. “Are we done here?”
Zack's head drooped further. Tempe turned to Booth. “And I'm cold?”
“Because if we are, I can take you.”
Zack raised his head a little, wiped at one cheek with his sleeve. “You can?”
Booth nodded. “I have to swing by GMU. Riceton's not that far out of my way. But you'll have to find your own way back.”
“Thanks. I can, I'll be…” The young anthropologist looked at Tempe.
For a moment, she seemed about to say something to Booth, but closed her mouth and studied the bones on the bench instead. “Well,” she said at last, “she's been dead for fifty years already. What's one more day?”
Zack frowned, suddenly grinned, and turned back to Booth. “When?”
Booth checked his watch. “Sooner the… you're not going like that, are you?”
Zack's eyes looked down at his blue Tyvar scrubs. “Oops,” he said, and started fumbling with the fasteners, “two minutes,” and he dashed from the room.
Booth turned to Tempe, winked and grinned. “Told you. Your little boy is growing up.”
“All right,” she said. “But who'd have thought?”
“When you've eliminated the impossible,” he said, smiling, “whatever remains…”
“However improbable…”
And they turned towards the sound of running feet approaching the door.