Bones Fanfic #2: The Girl on Graveyard Island (Chapter 2/?)

[pocofuoco]

Title: The Girl on Graveyard Island (Chapter 2/?)
Author: pocofuoco
Rating: M
Pairing: Booth/Brennan
Genre: Crime
Summary: A new case for the crime-fighting partners. This happened sometime during S4. Credit for the main idea goes to a favourite Japanese manga of mine.
A/N: Phew! I made it...for another chapter!  A bit 'thank you' to my dear friends for their help and support.  A special thanks to CB for constant feedback, proofreading and beta-ing, and
queen_avalon  for feedback.  I hope you enjoy this one too :) xoxo



Booth and Brennan opened the sliding wooden door. Their senses were immediately bombarded with the rowdy noises, saliva-inducing aromas of grilled and deep-fried dishes and the clang of beer glasses of an izakaya, or a Japanese tavern. Awkwardly, they ducked under the traditional cloth screen that hung over the door, their height and obviously non-Japanese build making them stand out from the rest of the patrons inside. Before they had the chance to brave the full-house of oriental faces to look for their target, an English-speaking voice caught their attention. Their eyes quickly followed it to a back corner of the tavern, where Booth’s friend sat at a small table. He stood up to hail Booth and Brennan over to him, and remained standing while they made their way, Booth’s hand at the usual spot at the small of her back, through the hustle and bustle in the tight spaces between the other patrons.

“Konbanwa, Booth,” he extended his right hand to Booth for a handshake, then turned to Brennan, “and you must be Booth’s partner, Dr. Brennan. My name is Hiro Tanaka. It is an honour to meet you.” He finished his greeting with a little bow.

“The pleasure is all mine, Tanaka san,” said Brennan, reciprocating the bow. “Booth has told me how you met each other during an FBI exchange program at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police a few years ago.”

“Yes, that is correct,” he replied briefly, but with no disrespect. “Please, sit down.”

Automatically, Booth, with his hand placed at the small her back again, helped Brennan settle in her seat, then followed suit by taking the seat next to her, across from his Japanese friend.

“What would you like to drink, Dr. Brennan?” Tanaka looked at Brennan, awaiting her choice.

“Warm sake, please,” Brennan replied.

“Good choice,” Tanaka turned to Booth, asking, “What about you, Booth?”

“What you’re having is fine with me,” answered Booth.

Knowing their choices of drinks, Tanaka raised his voice and ordered the drinks from wait staff behind the counter without leaving his seat. His orders were received and repeated loudly and enthusiastically by the wait staff, as per the custom in an izakaya.

Soon, their drinks were brought to their table. Tanaka took the bottle of sake, raised it to Brennan in a silent gesture, asking to pour for her. Brennan raised her cup to receive the sake, with a slight nod and an “Arigato gozaimasu” to show thanks when the cup was full. Tanaka then repeated the same process with Booth’s beer, which Booth then reciprocated by pouring for Tanaka. With a cheer of “Kanpai!”, they raised their glasses and cup, clinked them together, and then each took a sip.

Tanaka spoke first. “Thank you for meeting me here. I know this is something you are not accustomed to.”

“Oh, this is nice, the Japanese atmosphere,” said Booth, quite enthusiastically. “It’s always good to mix with the locals, isn’t it, Bones?”

“Yes. Anthropologically speaking,” stated Brennan, “a tavern is often the hub of activity in a community. It is customarily the starting point when the observation of a community is desired.”

“OK, Bones,” interjected Booth, before Brennan could launch into another one of her usual “Anthrologically speaking…” speeches. He raised one side of his mouth in a half mocking smile, “you don’t want to scare off Tanaka before we finish this drink, do you?”

Tanaka was looking at the interaction between the partners with polite interest and spoke to Booth, “Why do you call Dr. Brennan ‘Bones’?”

Enjoying the stare from Brennan - oh, he’s such a sadomasochist when it come to annoying his Bones, Booth answered with a smile in his voice, “Simply put, because Bones works with bones.” Then his voice took on a more sombre tone. “More importantly, as a forensic anthropologist, Dr. Brennan has irrefutable ability to help give identification and justice back to otherwise unidentifiable victim remains.” Sliding a look over to Brennan, seeing her satisfied smile, he couldn’t help but take an extra verbal jab. “But of course, I just like annoying her because she didn’t like me calling her ‘Bones’ at first.”

At this little poke, the satisfied smile on Brennan’s face was replaced with an annoyed scowl, and she folded her arms across her chest. The ever-so-observant Booth did not miss the fact that her action boosted her lovely breasts upwards, which in turn boosted Booth’s own ever-present desires. Damn it! Stay down, Booth Jr.! Now’s NOT the time to get excited! Actually, it’s NEVER a good time to get excited! Especially tonight…No! Don’t go there…

Smiling inwardly and quietly taking in the reactions of the partners, storing it for later mockings, Tanaka commented smoothly, “That is a very fitting nickname for you, Dr. Brennan. Your work in your field is exceptional, and your books are very popular in Japan too. But as I understand, you’re here in Japan for a conference?”

“Yes,” answered Brennan. “I was invited by the organisers of the International Symposium on Forensic Anthropology to be a guest speaker and I spoke about my experiences in assisting the FBI, especially some of the serial killer cases we’ve come across in the past few years. I felt my speech was quite a success, judging from the audience’s response. Except for one person.”

Stopping her sentence, she shot an accusatory glare at Booth, to which Booth responded by slightly hunching his shoulders, and shooting Brennan an embarrassed but still charming smile.

“Towards the end of my speech, I asked my partner to rise and identify himself to the crowd, but…” Narrowing her eyes, looking at Booth, she continued in a censoring tone, “he was fast asleep at his seat, even snoring at a substantial volume. A nudge from the gentleman next to him was required to arouse him.”

A flush involuntarily crept up Booth’s neck and face as he squirmed like a schoolkid being reprimanded by a teacher. Ah. A blushing Booth, thought Tanaka. Now that’s something you won’t see every day. Definitely another piece of ammunition tucked away for later mocking.

Raising his glass and taking a huge gulp of beer to disguise his embarrassment, Booth desperately tried to think of something else to talk about. But he was saved by Tanaka’s next sentence.

Looking straight at the partners, Tanaka spoke in a professional tone in stark contrast to the casual atmosphere of the izakaya. “In fact, I have a request for you.”

Booth leant in, ready to consider the request, when Tanaka shifted his eyes to an unsuspecting Brennan, “I would like to utilise your expertise in a new case which I am in charge of.”

Booth’s alpha-male traits immediately kicked in. “Hold on, Tanaka. Any requests for assistance in the area of law enforcement should come to me, not to Bones.”

“Booth! I can speak for myself!” As usual, this display of protectiveness prompted Brennan to retort in annoyance. Turning to Tanaka, she matched his professional manner and asked earnestly, “What can I assist you with, Tanaka san?”

“In essence, we have happened upon the remains of a female victim. However, our forensic laboratory does not have the specialist capability to reconstruct the severely damaged skull and, without any discernible body markings, identifications and/or jewellery on or near the victim, we were unable to proceed in the identification of this victim,” explained Tanaka. “And, this is where we require your assistance, Dr. Brennan, if you can spare some time during your busy travelling schedule for us.”

“I would very ---“

“Bones is not available for the rest of her time in Japan. Her schedule is packed to the max,” interrupted Booth in his Special Agent voice, but with a hint of a little boy doing everything he can to get his beloved toy back. Looking intently at Tanaka, Booth missed Brennan’s displeased eyes drilling holes to his side. “I think you shou---“

“I would very much like to assist you in the identification of the victim,” stated Brennan, interrupting Booth in the middle of his retort, leaving him with his mouth agape, wanting to say more. “My commitments at the Conference have been fulfilled and I am not leaving for the United States for another three days. During the next days, I have no prior arrangements that cannot be rescheduled or omitted. Therefore, yes, I would very much like to offer my assistance for the next three days.”

“But Bones! We’re going to Disneyland tomorrow, I’ve already promised Parker I’d get him an autograph from Mickey and Minnie. Then we’re going to a baseball game the following night! I’ve even bought the tickets for us already! It’s the Championship finals, we can’t miss that!” whined Booth desperately. “Disneyland and baseball, Bones! Remember?”

“Of course I remember. My memory is excellent,” Brennan’s voice being a calm sea compared to Booth’s frantic protests. “But regardless of the nature of this case, there is a victim that requires my expertise to give her back their identity, to bring her justice. You of all people should understand that finding justice is more important than those trivial travel plans.”

The righteous look in her eyes as she spoke to him silenced any further objections from Booth, his disappointment evident on his face. Parker’s gonna be SO disappointed. Hell, I’m disappointed too…But he quickly buried the emotions and returned to the topic at hand.

“Well, since my travelling partner has bailed out on me, looks like the rest of my vacation plans are out of the window too. So, can I help in this case, Tanaka?” said Booth, with an attempt to salvage some control over his plans over the next few days.

Dr. Brennan seems to wear the pants in this partnership. With that, tucking away one more piece of information inside his “tease Booth” bag, Tanaka answered Booth with a serious face, betraying not a hint of his suppressed humour at his observation of this exchange between the partners. “Yes, Booth. That was the second part of my request. And this comes right under your aegis. But first, let me explain the circumstances in which this victim was found.

“The body was discovered by a group of university students three days ago on an island 10 miles off the coast of Nagasaki. This island the locals call “Graveyard Island” because of its involvement in the Second World War,” Brennan’s eyes lit up at the mention of the Second World War, but she made no sound as Tanaka continued without missing a beat, “as well as the massive number of deaths of Japanese soldiers that occurred on the island. Because of this, it is an island that most locals avoid.

“These students selected Graveyard Island as their training ground to practise their War Game skills, in preparation for the National University War Game Championships next month.”

As soon as War Game was mentioned, Booth didn’t bother to hide his snicker. Predictably, a puzzled frown showed on Brennan’s face and she, like always when confronted with a reference to pop culture, inquired with her quest-for-knowledge voice, “What is a War Game?”

Before Tanaka could reply, Booth started to answer with a light snort in his voice, “War Game is when a bunch of kids holding toy guns and trying to shoot each other on a fake…” he did an air quote with his fingers, “’battlefield’.”

The description clicked in her head, Brennan said enthusiastically, “Oh, you mean the emulating of military operations in simulated environment and scenarios? Except for the possible use of live ammunition, these should essentially be the same as operations training exercises that are conducted in the military.” More lights switched on, “Which was what you must have executed when you were in the Guides.”

The swig of beer lodged in Booth’s throat, causing an explosive bout of coughs, after which he managed to sputter out, “Bones! I was in the Rangers, not the Guides! I can’t believe a genius like you that can name all 206 bones in the human body in ascending order of sizes, but can’t tell between biscuit-selling Girl Guides and nation-defending Rangers?!”

“I fail to see the correlation between possessing the fundamental knowledge required in my profession,” said Brennan, with dignity and a whiff of annoyance at the insult on her intelligence, “and the ability to differentiate between uniformed groups with comprehensible goals, well-established structures and well-defined ranking systems with distinct promotional methods.”

“Whoa, Bones! Please, not another tsunami of hundred-dollar words!” exclaimed Booth. But after seeing Brennan’s wounded expression at his loud words - his Bones was unimaginably insecure underneath her strong surface - he softened his tone but kept the steely resolve in his eyes as he spoke to her.

“Being a soldier - a Ranger, a Marine, or any of the other defence force branches, serving for your country, is nothing - and I mean NOTHING - at all similar to playing War Games. From the very beginning, each one of us has had instilled in us a great sense of responsibility of what we could inflict upon others, with our skills, our movements, our weapons. Taking lives is never to be taken lightly, every soldier understands that, because with each shot we make, we all die a little bit. And that sense of responsibility is something that people playing War Games would never understand, no matter how similar their actions, strategy, or weapons are to that of a real soldier’s.”

The solemnity of his words reminded Brennan of that day at Arlington Cemetery, when Booth voluntarily shared with her his experiences as a sniper, serving in Kosovo. Remembering that moment, she silently but compassionately placed her hand on his hand that was unconsciously tightening the hold on the glass. At the touch of hands, his grip gradually loosened as a comforting silence settled between them, without any regards to the Japanese Sergeant sitting across from them, or the noisy atmosphere of the izakaya surrounding them.

With a soft cough by Tanaka, the intimate bubble between the partners burst, hands were quickly snatched back to their glass, and a slight awkwardness fell between them. Oh, I really hate to do this. With an attempt at reclaim the professionalism in this discussion, Tanaka said in an assertive manner, “If I may continue?”

At this request, the partners did their best at composing themselves quickly, both determined to put that moment behind them for the time being, and return to the task at hand.

“As I was saying, the students selected Graveyard Island as their training ground when the victim’s body was found. Preliminary examination by our coroner has established an approximate time of death as five days before the discovery of the body, and the case of death by a yet unknown sharp instrument.”

Booth and Brennan both listened intently at Tanaka’s words as he continued, “As I said previously, visual examination of the body and the area around where the body was discovered found no distinguishable markings, jewellery and personal ID which could help in the identification of the victim.”

“Additionally, the victim’s head had suffered severe blunt force trauma, which made identification through facial images extremely difficult as our men, regrettably, are not equipped with good enough skills to handle a case like this.”

Addressing Brennan directly, “Therefore I’d like to ask for your assistance in this process. The sooner we are able to identify the victim, the faster we can proceed with the rest of the investigation.” Without hesitation, Brennan nodded her consent.

With a small smile of satisfaction and relief, Tanaka then turned his attention to Booth.

“As for the second part of my request, it is with regards to another case which I have been put in charge with as well. A 20-year-old woman was reported missing ten days ago by her boyfriend. No ransom has been demanded and, despite all efforts to locate her, no news of her whereabouts have come to light.”

Catching Tanaka at a slight pause, Booth cut in, “So far this sounds like a textbook disappearance case. Why do you need any help from me, as an FBI agent from the United States, for a case that occurred in your own country?”

“The circumstances of her disappearance are not at all unusual,” explained Tanaka. “It is who she is and her family connections which make this case unusual. Her name is Cécile Breconi, the daughter of Francois Breconi, a prominent French-born US politician. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”

At the mention of Francois Breconi, Booth instantly recalled the Republican senator from California. Despite Senator Breconi’s notorious guard for the privacy of his personal life, as a federal agent, Booth had come across more than the public’s share of information on the Senator. He noticed Brennan’s quizzical expression at Tanaka’s question so he quickly did a brief rundown of who Senator Breconi was, then turned his attention to Tanaka once more

“Senator Breconi was married to Kimiko Oda, a well-known actress with family ties in the Japanese and US financial industry,” further explained Tanaka, more for Brennan’s sake than Booth’s. “After the divorce, both parents agreed that their daughter should be raised in the tradition-rich Japan, so Cécile has lived in Japan since she was five years old.”

“Okay, now I understand her connection to the United States, which is a somewhat significant one,” queried Brennan, “but that still does not answer Booth’s question, of why you require help from him?”

“Actually, it was Senator Braconi’s idea to seek your assistance in locating her, after learning that Dr. Brennan is in the area and is accompanied by her FBI partner. As a father myself, I understand that he is rightfully apprehensive of another country’s investigation methods,” replied Tanaka without rancour. “And as you are the investigator team with the highest conviction rate in the whole of FBI, I see no reason to oppose such a suggestion. After all, finding Cécile Braconi is the most important thing, is it not?”

Feeling honoured at such a humble request from Tanaka, Booth could do nothing but respond in kind. “Thank you for asking my help in your case. I am honoured to offer my help in any way I can,” and held a hand to Tanaka, to which Tanaka clasped in his own hand.

Without a word, Brennan observed what she deemed as a male ritual in expressing gratitude and polite camaraderie, especially common in this part of the world. She also tucked away a question for Booth for later on, about what this look on his face meant as the men shook hands.

Tanaka broke the handshake and said warmly, “I thank both of you, Dr. Brennan , Agent Booth, for agreeing to assist the Nagasaki Prefectural Police in these cases. Your help will be greatly appreciated. If you do not object, I’d like to ask both of you to come by the Prefectural Police building at 9 o’clock tomorrow morning so we can bring both of you up to date with all the information we have gathered so far. Will that suit you?”

Booth and Brennan looked at each other briefly, and then turned their eyes back to Tanaka with a firm yes from both.

Tanaka was once again amused at this ability for them to communicate to each other without words. But again, he kept this to himself as he finished his beer and said, “In that case, thank you both for meeting up with me. I will see you both tomorrow morning. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact me.”

The partners nodded their agreement and finished their drinks. After Tanaka settled the bill, the three of them made their way past the even-more crowded izakaya to the door. After bowing only once to Tanaka, since both Booth and Brennan refused to be involved in a polite “who will stop bowing first” contest, they bid their goodbyes and Tanaka walked off for his car while Booth and Brennan headed for the main thoroughfare to hail a cab.

As they walked, Booth’s disappointment over losing his holiday plans, especially the visit to Disneyland, came back full-force. And, surprisingly, Brennan noticed.

“I’m certain that the current expression on your face is what is commonly known as a pout, Booth,” commented Brennan. “According to Sweets, pouting is a display of disappointment in what is supposed to be an endearing manner, commonly used by young females to entice the others, especially males, to bend to their wishes. That, or children. As you are neither young, female nor a child, I don’t see why one such an expression would appear in your face, Booth.”

“When did you start quoting Sweets?” retorted Booth huffily. I’m so gonna kill Sweets the first chance I get after I get back to D.C. and I’ll enjoy every single second of it. “And just for the record, a Booth never pouts! So now you’re implying that I’m a girl?”

“Of course not!” replied Brennan, slightly annoyed by Booth’s reaction. “You are, without a doubt, a man. A very well-structured man, in fact. I was merely attempting to put Sweets’ theories of the correlation between facial expressions and emotions to the tes…”

“Oh, there’s a cab!” Booth cut in, his arm held out to catch the cab driver’s attention. He was glad that the cab came at this moment since Brennan’s words evoked his desire that the work-like conversation with Tanaka in the izakaya had helped to suppress during the night.

When the cab pulled up to them and the back door swung open automatically, Booth gestured Brennan to enter the cab first, then followed suit. As Brennan’s mention of their hotel to the cab driver, together with the closeness to her, suddenly Booth remembered that tonight, he was sharing a room, not to mention a bed, with his Bones.

His desires returned with a vengeance and he wasn’t so glad anymore.

Chapter 2 done! Please let me know how I went!!! Show me some love, hate, annoyance, boredom...anything!!! xoxo

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

Prologue
Chapter 1