Fic: The Senator in the Scarecrow (16/20)
Title: The Senator in the Scarecrow [Chapter Sixteen: Poppies]
Author: ladychi
Beta Babes: katmorning, cathmarchr
Graphic Banner & Custom Icon: ladyredraven
Characters/Pairings: Booth/Brennan, Hodgins/Angela, Cam, Sweets, Wendell, Clark, Parker Booth, various OCs
Rating: M for language, graphic violence and graphic sex
Summary: It's August in western Kansas and a Senator's gone missing. When a body shows up in a field of milo, the President himself wants only the best investigating the murder. Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan are both plucked unceremoniously from their lives and thrust extreme-rural Kansas after a year apart. Takes place immediately after the year of separation in The Beginning in the End, the S5 finale. Multi-part mystery, updated every Monday.
Previous Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen
Author's Note: This one is a little bit shorter than usual, and it's also unbeta'd. The reason is this: I have the mother of all head colds at the moment, and I'm having a flair of joint pain. I barely finished this on-time, but I made you a promise that I wouldn't delay any more chapters. So here it is. It gets steamy in here, folks!
Chapter Sixteen: Poppies
Booth shut the door to his room and stood for a moment. It was the first time since the morning he'd had to simply absorb what had happened that day, to really let it hit him. His shoulders slumped, and his hands fisted. He tossed his suit jacket on the bed, and started to unbutton his shirt. Rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand, he collapsed on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was tired of feeling this way - out-of-control, unable to get his bearings.
A soft knock on the door was all the warning he had before Brennan poked her head in. “Booth?”
He closed his eyes and thought about not answering her, but he knew her tenacity and recalled her earlier vow to keep a close eye on him. “In here, Bones.”
“Do you mind if I come in?”
Booth chuckled helplessly. “Nah, come on in. I'm just... thinking.”
“You often say that's my part of our job,” Brennan said, as teasingly as she knew how.
“Yeah, well, I should definitely leave it to the experts, huh?” He opened one eye at her, and then closed it.
“We are supposed to be preparing to go to an event, Booth.” The bed creaked slightly with her weight as she sat down next to him. “Unless you are too tired?”
“Nah.” But he didn't move, holding his breath as he felt her hand ghosting over his, just electrical enough so that the hairs on the back of his hand stood up. “I'm ready to rock and roll.”
She laughed, deep in her chest. He loved that about her - the way her amusement seemed to sneak up on her before she had time to censure it. “You appear that way, yes.”
Booth sighed and opened both of his eyes. “I am tired though, Bones.”
She laid down next to him, careful to leave an inch of space between them, her head on the pillow she'd used the night before. “Understandable. We have not been allowed much time to rest these last few days.”
“No, we haven't. Come're, Bones.” He rolled over onto his side, and drew her in close, so that the spooned, his front to her back. He inhaled the scent of her shampoo. “See, that's nice, isn't it?”
She nuzzled further into her pillow. “I feel as though I could sleep right now.”
“Mmmhmm,” Booth agreed. “I think we're getting old, Bones.”
“We are both aging at a normal rate, which, in this society, puts us far short of old, Booth.”
He grinned. “Yeah, you're right.”
There was silence for a long moment.
“I was very worried about Parker,” Brennan confessed to him. “I - he is very important to me.”
“I know, Bones.”
“I found comfort in the fact that he is very much like you, however,” Brennan said softly.
Booth snorted. “His mother doesn't find that very comforting at all, I'll have you know.”
“On the contrary, I think Rebecca would find it very reassuring, as well. He did the right thing. He called you, he was quick on his feet, and he got away. He's very intelligent in the same way you are, Booth.”
Booth grinned. “I didn't know you think I'm smart.”
“You are very intelligent,” Brennan said, rolling over onto her back to look him in the eye. “You would not be as successful as you are without being so.”
He traced the line of her cheekbones with his knuckle. “Thanks, Bones.”
A look of concern crossed her face. “I do not like that you think I perceive you as inferior, Booth. We're just... different, that's all. My skills may be more rare, but there is no one else I would trust with my life like I trust you.”
Something twisted in his gut, settled there. “You don't have to placate me, Bones.”
“I'm not. I am telling the truth.” She smiled with one corner of her mouth. “Like I always do.”
“I want to kiss you,” Booth said, his voice low.
“I would not object to that activity,” Brennan said. She reached up and fingered his hair. He leaned into that touch and let his face hover over hers for a long moment before he allowed himself the pleasure of touching her lips. He sank into the kiss, putting weight behind it, enjoying the feeling of her lips against his. They both enjoyed it, changing angles every so often, their fingers clasped together. It was good. It was settling. It was real. He trailed his hand up the side of her body, absurdly grateful that she'd worn a skirt. It gave him access to acres of flesh, the warmth of it silky beneath his fingers. She spread her thighs invitingly and the kiss turned from comfort to passion.
Her hips swirled underneath of his, silently communicating exactly what she was feeling, her hands quickly unbuttoning his work shirt all the way and undoing his tie. He buried his hand in her long hair and threaded it between his fingers, arching away from her slightly so that she could accomplish her goal.
Once the dress shirt was gone, it was a matter of pulling his white tee away from his body and discarding it on the floor. Brennan accomplished that swiftly, and rolled him over, straddling his hips with her thighs, running her hands up his chest.
“You have become more muscular,” she said, and absurdly, it sent a thrill straight to his groin. There was something about having her analytical brain focused on his physical form that electrified him.
“Thanks, Bones.”
“It is very pleasing.” She traced the outline of his abdomen, splayed her hands out on his abs and ran them up to his pectoral muscles, thumbing his nipples until they came to life. “I have always found you pleasing to look at, Booth.”
“Ditto.” She looked at him, confused, and it was all he could do to stop from rolling them over and taking her right then. Instead he settled for pulling her mouth back down to his. She tasted delicious, warm and right.
Then she upped the stakes, grinding her pelvis against his and making him gasp. “I am extremely aroused, Booth.”
Booth chuckled. “Ditto again.” She swiveled her hips and Booth arched back. “Christ.”
“Often, I find I am much more amorous after days like today,” she said, her voice calm, but her movements more and more demanding. “For future reference.”
“Hey, no complaints from me.”
She bent down and drew his earlobe into her mouth. “I would very much like for you to fuck me, Booth.”
He couldn't help it. He growled and laughed. “I would very much like that, too.”
“I wish we had more time,” Brennan said.
“That's right.” Booth hissed. “We've got a - uh, dance to go to.”
“Yes.” Brennan sighed, and stopped. “I do not mean to make promises with my body that I cannot follow through on, Booth.”
He grinned at her. “I consider that a preview. For tonight. If... that's okay.”
Brennan leaned down, and kissed him fully. “That is satisfactory.”
“Not yet, Bones. But it will be.”
**
The Jeffersonian was eerily half-lit, most of the staff already gone home, but Cam had been a workaholic for most of her adult life and saw no reason to stop now. She was typing a report when the computer beeped at her.
A knock at the door took her attention away from the computer and she lifted her head. “Come on in.”
“I thought I would offer my apology again in person.”
Cam stiffened. “Doctor Lidner, it's nice to see you.”
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by.” The doctor stood awkwardly in the doorway. “Do you still want me to come in?”
She sighed and closed her eyes. “Yeah, sure.”
“I'm... I... that is. I was wondering if I could take you to a late supper.”
“Are you sure?” Cam crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“I was an ass.” Lidner took a step closer to her. “I thought maybe if I saw you in person - told you, you know...”
“You made it abundantly clear just how sorry you are.” Cam shrugged. “It's just - you know, we both should have known better. We were both at fault. We both have demanding careers...”
“Yeah, we do.” He stepped even closer to her. “But that doesn't have to matter if we don't let it. We can be adults about this, Camille.”
She laughed and ducked her head. “Don't call me Camille.”
“Okay.” He grinned widely at her. “Will you give us another shot? We both deserve this, you know.”
Cam tapped a few keys while she thought it over. “My job isn't going to get less stressful.”
“Yeah, and women aren't going to stop having health crises.” Lidner shrugged his shoulders. “But we both know that. We just can't get scared when it gets serious again.”
Cam sighed. “Let me think about it.” Her eyes widened at what she saw on the screen. “That... can't be right.”
“What?” Lidner's eyes widened.
“Blood analysis from our second crime scene. The sample had a lot of the same genetic markers as our first victim.”
“Same person?” Lidner asked. “How is that possible?”
“No, take a look.” She turned the screen to him. “Not the same person. But... very possibly one of his children. I'm sorry. I'm going to have to make a phone call.”
He smiled. “Of course. Uh, raincheck?”
“You know what?” She cocked her head to the side. “All right.”
“See you, Camille.” He was out the door before she could correct him again. She shook her head.
**
Brennan found herself hyper-aware of Booth as they rode together to the bar where the dance was being held. He'd changed into jeans and a black button-down shirt, which was open at the collar, and he'd stopped short when he'd seen her outfit. She changed into jeans, as well, and a comfortable blouse that dropped low over her breasts and flared out over the sleeves. His attention was very gratifying.
Their hands found each other, and grasped loosely as Booth followed Mrs. Hoake's directions into a small town their investigation hadn't taken them to yet. They stopped at the main block of the town and parked in front of a row of plankboard buildings. The party was already in full swing, children running outside and the sound of rock and roll pumping from the browned windows.
As they walked to the building, which had once been the high school gym, their hands swung together, and Brennan wondered, once again, if this was something that she'd missed out on as a teenager - walking with a boyfriend, hand in hand, completely comfortable, with a tingle in the pit of her stomach. She'd described Kathy having that reaction to Andy before, but somehow the actual sensation was better than anything she'd imagined.
“Aren't you two just sweet?” Mrs. Hoake asked, linking arms with a worried-looking Sweets. “Come on, young man, take me inside and buy me a drink.”
“Hey Dad,” Parker said, “There's a bunch of kids over at the basketball court. Can I go?”
Booth's forehead wrinkled, and Brennan could tell that he was weighing the pros and cons of letting Parker out of his sight. He squeezed her hand. “Yeah, sure, bub. Just...”
“I'll check in later.” Parker waved and took off.
“Jesus,” Booth breathed. “I'm going to blink and he'll be a teenager, won't he?”
Brennan shrugged. “That is not actually factual, but... I can agree with the sentiment. It seems that my perception of Parker's growth is that has gone very quickly.”
He smiled at her, one of those smiles that had become so common after they'd confronted Sweets about his book, nothing like his real smile, that seemed to blossom across his face. This was a smile to hide heartbreak.
“Children growing up isn't sad, Booth. He's a kind-hearted, resourceful pre-adolescent. You have done a good job parenting him.”
“Yeah. It's just - you miss when they were young, you know?” Booth shook himself.
“It'll be nice to see what kind of person he becomes, however.” Desperate to wipe the pain and worry from his eyes, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
Startled, he turned to grin at her, and Brennan couldn't help the feeling of victory that spread across her chest.
Inside, the gym was bustling with activity. A jukebox was playing in the corner, and a few people danced, but a bandstand was set up with instruments waiting for musicians. On one wall was the bar, offering soft drinks for the children and a variety of alcohol for the adults. Tables were set up, and older generations sat at them, playing court, it seemed, for the younger folks that stopped to say hello to relatives and acquaintances.
It was extremely interesting on an anthropological level, Brennan decided, a little lost in observing the behavior around her. Booth tugged on her hand and gestured at the bar, a tolerant smile on his face. She flushed to be caught lost in her own head.
“You want a drink, Bones?”
“Yes, please. It is hot in here.” It was, but she was only just now realizing it. The humidity hadn't let up outside, and it was stuffy inside, giant fans hanging from the ceiling rotating slowly and ineffectually. Her blouse stuck to her skin, and Booth was perspiring as well, a trail of sweat showing up on the back of his shirt.
“That man is a cool drink of water,” Mrs. Hoake said, gesturing at a table. “Why don't you sit and have a rest while Special Agent Booth gets you your drink?”
“Thank you.”
“I have to warn you, they're about to descend.”
“Who?”
“Everyone,” Mrs. Hoake said with a gentle smile. “We don't get a lot of FBI agents and forensic scientists out here, Dr. Brennan.”
“Temperance is fine,” Brennan said, surprising herself, but she couldn't keep up the barrier of formality with the woman in front of her.
“Well, then,” Mrs. Hoake said, accepting a tall Long Island iced tea from Sweets. “Temperance, you're about to be grilled.”
A slew of women and men from all across the county stopped by the table, as much to say hello to Mrs. Hoake as to talk to Brennan and Booth. It was a pleasant evening, and Brennan kept her eyes open for the Rettingers. After a few minutes, she caught the whole family walking in through the door.
She was about to rise to her feet when Booth handed her a glass of wine. “Booth, the Rettingers have just arrived.”
“I know. Hebrew just waved at me, I think they're on their way over.”
“The family that owns the farm where all the bodies were found?” Sweets asked.
“They're lovely people,” Mrs. Hoake said firmly.
“Yes, that's them,” Booth said, with a half-smile.
Helen and Hebrew approached their table, and Sweets and Mrs. Hoake excused themselves. “I see you've already got drinks, or we'd offer to buy you a round,” Hebrew started.
Booth tilted his head. “Thanks for the offer.”
“We thought we'd say hi, and ask what the progress on the investigation is,” Helen said, her hand wrapped firmly in Hebrew's.
“We're following up on leads,” Booth said. “We have a question. Either one of you folks ever have any dealings with Jessica Flint? Formerly Jessica Hubbard?”
“Yeah - she went to school with my youngest sister,” Helen said. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Booth said, shrugging his shoulders. “Everything's fine.”
“You know, she called the house the other day asking for you,” Hebrew volunteered. “I guess I forgot about it because it just seemed so random.”
“Really?” Booth's eyebrows raised. “Did she say what she wanted?”
Hebrew shook his head. “No, just asked for Helen. I figured she had a question about the Fireman's Day fund. I told her to call back later.”
“Booth,” Brennan hissed.
“Jessica Flint is wanted for murder,” Booth said in a low tone. “We have reason to believe she may be targeting your family, Mrs. Rettinger. We've got a few cops already keeping an eye on you but until she makes a direct threat there's not much else we can do.”
Hebrew tensed. “Do you think...”
“She's not dumb enough to show up on a night like tonight,” Booth said evenly. “Don't get trigger happy, but you might want to keep an eye on your wife, Mr. Rettinger. Don't let her go anywhere alone, if you know what I mean.”
He nodded, and drew Helen away from Booth and Brennan. They sat in silence for a long moment.
“Do you think Jessica Flint is really after her?”
“I don't know, Bones. Seems as good as any other Dorothy, don't you think?”
“Bones?” Brennan lifted her head, and saw Parker, with Mrs. Hoake standing right behind him. The band was warming up on the bandstand, and they burst into an energetic rendition of Hard Day's Night.
“Hey Parker,” Bones said with a smile.
“Do you wanna dance?”
Mrs. Hoake was beaming and Brennan could tell she'd put the little boy up to it. “Did you play basketball with the other children?”
“Yeah, but... I wanted to check in.” Parker shook his curls in an “I don't know” gesture that was purely his father and Brennan's heart melted.
“I would very much enjoy dancing with you, then.”
They walked out on the dance floor, and indulged in silly dance moves with everyone around them. Parker found her version of the windmill hilarious, and he showed her a hip-hop step one of his friends had shown him that went surprisingly well with the music.
After Parker, there were a number of other men who wanted her attention, and she found herself dancing with several other farmers, all of them browned by the sun, but gentle with her as they twisted and two-stepped her around the floor.
Then the lead singer of the band stepped up to the microphone. “Here's a slow one for you.” There was a pause, then a flam from the snare drum and he opened his mouth. “Oh darlin',” he sang, “please believe me...”
Booth tapped her on the shoulder. “Can I have this one?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling. She fit right in his arms, laying her head on his shoulder as guided them around the floor. The man sang about reconciliation and love and heartbreak, and Brennan breathed in Booth's scent.
“I never meant you no harm,” the lead singer wailed.
“This is good,” Booth said, and kissed the top of her head. “This is really good, Bones.”
She smiled.
Author: ladychi
Beta Babes: katmorning, cathmarchr
Graphic Banner & Custom Icon: ladyredraven
Characters/Pairings: Booth/Brennan, Hodgins/Angela, Cam, Sweets, Wendell, Clark, Parker Booth, various OCs
Rating: M for language, graphic violence and graphic sex
Summary: It's August in western Kansas and a Senator's gone missing. When a body shows up in a field of milo, the President himself wants only the best investigating the murder. Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan are both plucked unceremoniously from their lives and thrust extreme-rural Kansas after a year apart. Takes place immediately after the year of separation in The Beginning in the End, the S5 finale. Multi-part mystery, updated every Monday.
Previous Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen
Author's Note: This one is a little bit shorter than usual, and it's also unbeta'd. The reason is this: I have the mother of all head colds at the moment, and I'm having a flair of joint pain. I barely finished this on-time, but I made you a promise that I wouldn't delay any more chapters. So here it is. It gets steamy in here, folks!
Chapter Sixteen: Poppies
Booth shut the door to his room and stood for a moment. It was the first time since the morning he'd had to simply absorb what had happened that day, to really let it hit him. His shoulders slumped, and his hands fisted. He tossed his suit jacket on the bed, and started to unbutton his shirt. Rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand, he collapsed on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was tired of feeling this way - out-of-control, unable to get his bearings.
A soft knock on the door was all the warning he had before Brennan poked her head in. “Booth?”
He closed his eyes and thought about not answering her, but he knew her tenacity and recalled her earlier vow to keep a close eye on him. “In here, Bones.”
“Do you mind if I come in?”
Booth chuckled helplessly. “Nah, come on in. I'm just... thinking.”
“You often say that's my part of our job,” Brennan said, as teasingly as she knew how.
“Yeah, well, I should definitely leave it to the experts, huh?” He opened one eye at her, and then closed it.
“We are supposed to be preparing to go to an event, Booth.” The bed creaked slightly with her weight as she sat down next to him. “Unless you are too tired?”
“Nah.” But he didn't move, holding his breath as he felt her hand ghosting over his, just electrical enough so that the hairs on the back of his hand stood up. “I'm ready to rock and roll.”
She laughed, deep in her chest. He loved that about her - the way her amusement seemed to sneak up on her before she had time to censure it. “You appear that way, yes.”
Booth sighed and opened both of his eyes. “I am tired though, Bones.”
She laid down next to him, careful to leave an inch of space between them, her head on the pillow she'd used the night before. “Understandable. We have not been allowed much time to rest these last few days.”
“No, we haven't. Come're, Bones.” He rolled over onto his side, and drew her in close, so that the spooned, his front to her back. He inhaled the scent of her shampoo. “See, that's nice, isn't it?”
She nuzzled further into her pillow. “I feel as though I could sleep right now.”
“Mmmhmm,” Booth agreed. “I think we're getting old, Bones.”
“We are both aging at a normal rate, which, in this society, puts us far short of old, Booth.”
He grinned. “Yeah, you're right.”
There was silence for a long moment.
“I was very worried about Parker,” Brennan confessed to him. “I - he is very important to me.”
“I know, Bones.”
“I found comfort in the fact that he is very much like you, however,” Brennan said softly.
Booth snorted. “His mother doesn't find that very comforting at all, I'll have you know.”
“On the contrary, I think Rebecca would find it very reassuring, as well. He did the right thing. He called you, he was quick on his feet, and he got away. He's very intelligent in the same way you are, Booth.”
Booth grinned. “I didn't know you think I'm smart.”
“You are very intelligent,” Brennan said, rolling over onto her back to look him in the eye. “You would not be as successful as you are without being so.”
He traced the line of her cheekbones with his knuckle. “Thanks, Bones.”
A look of concern crossed her face. “I do not like that you think I perceive you as inferior, Booth. We're just... different, that's all. My skills may be more rare, but there is no one else I would trust with my life like I trust you.”
Something twisted in his gut, settled there. “You don't have to placate me, Bones.”
“I'm not. I am telling the truth.” She smiled with one corner of her mouth. “Like I always do.”
“I want to kiss you,” Booth said, his voice low.
“I would not object to that activity,” Brennan said. She reached up and fingered his hair. He leaned into that touch and let his face hover over hers for a long moment before he allowed himself the pleasure of touching her lips. He sank into the kiss, putting weight behind it, enjoying the feeling of her lips against his. They both enjoyed it, changing angles every so often, their fingers clasped together. It was good. It was settling. It was real. He trailed his hand up the side of her body, absurdly grateful that she'd worn a skirt. It gave him access to acres of flesh, the warmth of it silky beneath his fingers. She spread her thighs invitingly and the kiss turned from comfort to passion.
Her hips swirled underneath of his, silently communicating exactly what she was feeling, her hands quickly unbuttoning his work shirt all the way and undoing his tie. He buried his hand in her long hair and threaded it between his fingers, arching away from her slightly so that she could accomplish her goal.
Once the dress shirt was gone, it was a matter of pulling his white tee away from his body and discarding it on the floor. Brennan accomplished that swiftly, and rolled him over, straddling his hips with her thighs, running her hands up his chest.
“You have become more muscular,” she said, and absurdly, it sent a thrill straight to his groin. There was something about having her analytical brain focused on his physical form that electrified him.
“Thanks, Bones.”
“It is very pleasing.” She traced the outline of his abdomen, splayed her hands out on his abs and ran them up to his pectoral muscles, thumbing his nipples until they came to life. “I have always found you pleasing to look at, Booth.”
“Ditto.” She looked at him, confused, and it was all he could do to stop from rolling them over and taking her right then. Instead he settled for pulling her mouth back down to his. She tasted delicious, warm and right.
Then she upped the stakes, grinding her pelvis against his and making him gasp. “I am extremely aroused, Booth.”
Booth chuckled. “Ditto again.” She swiveled her hips and Booth arched back. “Christ.”
“Often, I find I am much more amorous after days like today,” she said, her voice calm, but her movements more and more demanding. “For future reference.”
“Hey, no complaints from me.”
She bent down and drew his earlobe into her mouth. “I would very much like for you to fuck me, Booth.”
He couldn't help it. He growled and laughed. “I would very much like that, too.”
“I wish we had more time,” Brennan said.
“That's right.” Booth hissed. “We've got a - uh, dance to go to.”
“Yes.” Brennan sighed, and stopped. “I do not mean to make promises with my body that I cannot follow through on, Booth.”
He grinned at her. “I consider that a preview. For tonight. If... that's okay.”
Brennan leaned down, and kissed him fully. “That is satisfactory.”
“Not yet, Bones. But it will be.”
**
The Jeffersonian was eerily half-lit, most of the staff already gone home, but Cam had been a workaholic for most of her adult life and saw no reason to stop now. She was typing a report when the computer beeped at her.
A knock at the door took her attention away from the computer and she lifted her head. “Come on in.”
“I thought I would offer my apology again in person.”
Cam stiffened. “Doctor Lidner, it's nice to see you.”
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by.” The doctor stood awkwardly in the doorway. “Do you still want me to come in?”
She sighed and closed her eyes. “Yeah, sure.”
“I'm... I... that is. I was wondering if I could take you to a late supper.”
“Are you sure?” Cam crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“I was an ass.” Lidner took a step closer to her. “I thought maybe if I saw you in person - told you, you know...”
“You made it abundantly clear just how sorry you are.” Cam shrugged. “It's just - you know, we both should have known better. We were both at fault. We both have demanding careers...”
“Yeah, we do.” He stepped even closer to her. “But that doesn't have to matter if we don't let it. We can be adults about this, Camille.”
She laughed and ducked her head. “Don't call me Camille.”
“Okay.” He grinned widely at her. “Will you give us another shot? We both deserve this, you know.”
Cam tapped a few keys while she thought it over. “My job isn't going to get less stressful.”
“Yeah, and women aren't going to stop having health crises.” Lidner shrugged his shoulders. “But we both know that. We just can't get scared when it gets serious again.”
Cam sighed. “Let me think about it.” Her eyes widened at what she saw on the screen. “That... can't be right.”
“What?” Lidner's eyes widened.
“Blood analysis from our second crime scene. The sample had a lot of the same genetic markers as our first victim.”
“Same person?” Lidner asked. “How is that possible?”
“No, take a look.” She turned the screen to him. “Not the same person. But... very possibly one of his children. I'm sorry. I'm going to have to make a phone call.”
He smiled. “Of course. Uh, raincheck?”
“You know what?” She cocked her head to the side. “All right.”
“See you, Camille.” He was out the door before she could correct him again. She shook her head.
**
Brennan found herself hyper-aware of Booth as they rode together to the bar where the dance was being held. He'd changed into jeans and a black button-down shirt, which was open at the collar, and he'd stopped short when he'd seen her outfit. She changed into jeans, as well, and a comfortable blouse that dropped low over her breasts and flared out over the sleeves. His attention was very gratifying.
Their hands found each other, and grasped loosely as Booth followed Mrs. Hoake's directions into a small town their investigation hadn't taken them to yet. They stopped at the main block of the town and parked in front of a row of plankboard buildings. The party was already in full swing, children running outside and the sound of rock and roll pumping from the browned windows.
As they walked to the building, which had once been the high school gym, their hands swung together, and Brennan wondered, once again, if this was something that she'd missed out on as a teenager - walking with a boyfriend, hand in hand, completely comfortable, with a tingle in the pit of her stomach. She'd described Kathy having that reaction to Andy before, but somehow the actual sensation was better than anything she'd imagined.
“Aren't you two just sweet?” Mrs. Hoake asked, linking arms with a worried-looking Sweets. “Come on, young man, take me inside and buy me a drink.”
“Hey Dad,” Parker said, “There's a bunch of kids over at the basketball court. Can I go?”
Booth's forehead wrinkled, and Brennan could tell that he was weighing the pros and cons of letting Parker out of his sight. He squeezed her hand. “Yeah, sure, bub. Just...”
“I'll check in later.” Parker waved and took off.
“Jesus,” Booth breathed. “I'm going to blink and he'll be a teenager, won't he?”
Brennan shrugged. “That is not actually factual, but... I can agree with the sentiment. It seems that my perception of Parker's growth is that has gone very quickly.”
He smiled at her, one of those smiles that had become so common after they'd confronted Sweets about his book, nothing like his real smile, that seemed to blossom across his face. This was a smile to hide heartbreak.
“Children growing up isn't sad, Booth. He's a kind-hearted, resourceful pre-adolescent. You have done a good job parenting him.”
“Yeah. It's just - you miss when they were young, you know?” Booth shook himself.
“It'll be nice to see what kind of person he becomes, however.” Desperate to wipe the pain and worry from his eyes, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
Startled, he turned to grin at her, and Brennan couldn't help the feeling of victory that spread across her chest.
Inside, the gym was bustling with activity. A jukebox was playing in the corner, and a few people danced, but a bandstand was set up with instruments waiting for musicians. On one wall was the bar, offering soft drinks for the children and a variety of alcohol for the adults. Tables were set up, and older generations sat at them, playing court, it seemed, for the younger folks that stopped to say hello to relatives and acquaintances.
It was extremely interesting on an anthropological level, Brennan decided, a little lost in observing the behavior around her. Booth tugged on her hand and gestured at the bar, a tolerant smile on his face. She flushed to be caught lost in her own head.
“You want a drink, Bones?”
“Yes, please. It is hot in here.” It was, but she was only just now realizing it. The humidity hadn't let up outside, and it was stuffy inside, giant fans hanging from the ceiling rotating slowly and ineffectually. Her blouse stuck to her skin, and Booth was perspiring as well, a trail of sweat showing up on the back of his shirt.
“That man is a cool drink of water,” Mrs. Hoake said, gesturing at a table. “Why don't you sit and have a rest while Special Agent Booth gets you your drink?”
“Thank you.”
“I have to warn you, they're about to descend.”
“Who?”
“Everyone,” Mrs. Hoake said with a gentle smile. “We don't get a lot of FBI agents and forensic scientists out here, Dr. Brennan.”
“Temperance is fine,” Brennan said, surprising herself, but she couldn't keep up the barrier of formality with the woman in front of her.
“Well, then,” Mrs. Hoake said, accepting a tall Long Island iced tea from Sweets. “Temperance, you're about to be grilled.”
A slew of women and men from all across the county stopped by the table, as much to say hello to Mrs. Hoake as to talk to Brennan and Booth. It was a pleasant evening, and Brennan kept her eyes open for the Rettingers. After a few minutes, she caught the whole family walking in through the door.
She was about to rise to her feet when Booth handed her a glass of wine. “Booth, the Rettingers have just arrived.”
“I know. Hebrew just waved at me, I think they're on their way over.”
“The family that owns the farm where all the bodies were found?” Sweets asked.
“They're lovely people,” Mrs. Hoake said firmly.
“Yes, that's them,” Booth said, with a half-smile.
Helen and Hebrew approached their table, and Sweets and Mrs. Hoake excused themselves. “I see you've already got drinks, or we'd offer to buy you a round,” Hebrew started.
Booth tilted his head. “Thanks for the offer.”
“We thought we'd say hi, and ask what the progress on the investigation is,” Helen said, her hand wrapped firmly in Hebrew's.
“We're following up on leads,” Booth said. “We have a question. Either one of you folks ever have any dealings with Jessica Flint? Formerly Jessica Hubbard?”
“Yeah - she went to school with my youngest sister,” Helen said. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Booth said, shrugging his shoulders. “Everything's fine.”
“You know, she called the house the other day asking for you,” Hebrew volunteered. “I guess I forgot about it because it just seemed so random.”
“Really?” Booth's eyebrows raised. “Did she say what she wanted?”
Hebrew shook his head. “No, just asked for Helen. I figured she had a question about the Fireman's Day fund. I told her to call back later.”
“Booth,” Brennan hissed.
“Jessica Flint is wanted for murder,” Booth said in a low tone. “We have reason to believe she may be targeting your family, Mrs. Rettinger. We've got a few cops already keeping an eye on you but until she makes a direct threat there's not much else we can do.”
Hebrew tensed. “Do you think...”
“She's not dumb enough to show up on a night like tonight,” Booth said evenly. “Don't get trigger happy, but you might want to keep an eye on your wife, Mr. Rettinger. Don't let her go anywhere alone, if you know what I mean.”
He nodded, and drew Helen away from Booth and Brennan. They sat in silence for a long moment.
“Do you think Jessica Flint is really after her?”
“I don't know, Bones. Seems as good as any other Dorothy, don't you think?”
“Bones?” Brennan lifted her head, and saw Parker, with Mrs. Hoake standing right behind him. The band was warming up on the bandstand, and they burst into an energetic rendition of Hard Day's Night.
“Hey Parker,” Bones said with a smile.
“Do you wanna dance?”
Mrs. Hoake was beaming and Brennan could tell she'd put the little boy up to it. “Did you play basketball with the other children?”
“Yeah, but... I wanted to check in.” Parker shook his curls in an “I don't know” gesture that was purely his father and Brennan's heart melted.
“I would very much enjoy dancing with you, then.”
They walked out on the dance floor, and indulged in silly dance moves with everyone around them. Parker found her version of the windmill hilarious, and he showed her a hip-hop step one of his friends had shown him that went surprisingly well with the music.
After Parker, there were a number of other men who wanted her attention, and she found herself dancing with several other farmers, all of them browned by the sun, but gentle with her as they twisted and two-stepped her around the floor.
Then the lead singer of the band stepped up to the microphone. “Here's a slow one for you.” There was a pause, then a flam from the snare drum and he opened his mouth. “Oh darlin',” he sang, “please believe me...”
Booth tapped her on the shoulder. “Can I have this one?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling. She fit right in his arms, laying her head on his shoulder as guided them around the floor. The man sang about reconciliation and love and heartbreak, and Brennan breathed in Booth's scent.
“I never meant you no harm,” the lead singer wailed.
“This is good,” Booth said, and kissed the top of her head. “This is really good, Bones.”
She smiled.