Title: Impossible Dream
Summary: A routine examination tells Brennan that she can't have what she never wanted in the first place. But we all want what we can't have… right?
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They belong to 20th Century Fox (who, might I add, own all the good shows).
Rating: I think we can all already guess what this is rated. M.
A/N: When I was in school, for my English Aural examination I read a story that I had written about a woman who miscarried. My English teacher asked me if I knew someone who had personally experienced it because she had, and I had written the emotions so well. I never knew anyone who miscarried, I had used my imagination purely. I hope I can write this, just as well.
"Bones!" Booth called, jogging the steps to the gallery. Brennan pushed aside what remained of her sandwich, and tucked her notebook into her bag, straightening her spine. "What are you working on?" Booth asked, stopping at the top of the stairs.
"Some notes for my novel," Brennan said vaguely, dropping her eyes to the file in his hand. "What's that?" He sat next to her, eyeing her half-eaten turkey and cranberry sandwich on wholegrain bread with interest. She picked it off the table, and thrust it into his hand. "May I?" She asked, taking the manila folder in exchange for her lunch.
Booth took a bite, while she turned the first page. "We already have an ID on the body," he said. "The woman had an wallet lying beneath her. We assume it was tucked into her clothes, which have long since rotted away. What we need to know is how long have the bones been buried and, if you can get your little techno-wizard assistant to find out what the murder weapon was, we'd really appreciate it." Brennan glanced up.
"We?" She asked.
"Yeah. Agent Taylor and I," Booth scrunched the sandwich wrapper into a tight ball and tossed it towards the trash-can. It hit the rim, and fell in. "Yes!" He exclaimed, clapping his hands. Brennan tilted her head.
"Who is Agent Taylor?" She asked, glancing down at the file again. She mentally noted the visible fracture along the skull, and the odd positioning of the body.
"He's one of the lead agents in the investigation. I was pulled on board because of my… association with you." Brennan grunted.
"Flattered, I'm sure," she mumbled, flipping to the next page. "Pulled on board against your will?" Booth chuckled.
"Are you kidding? When given either two weeks of updating my paper work or working in the field… well, needless to say I'd endure a few days with the Squint Squad if it meant foregoing the purgatory that is administration." Brennan glanced sideways at him, shaking her head as she did. "No offence, of course. It's not really so much 'enduring' as…"
"You're digging yourself into a deeper hole, Booth," they both glanced up at the tall, sandy haired man at the top of the stairs. He looked harassed. "Do you know how difficult it is to get into this building?" Booth half shrugged.
"I know, it's like the Pentagon. Samuel Taylor this is Dr Temperance Brennan. She's going to solve your case for you." Brennan took his outstretched hand, smiling politely. When the introductions were over, she turned to Booth.
"Not today, though. I have a medical appointment at two, so you won't have to ensure my company any longer." Taylor laughed and Booth growled.
"Now you know I didn't mean it like that. You're taking it all out of context." Brennan tucked the file under her arm and rolled her eyes. "Are you alright?" Booth asked, following her along the gallery to the stairs. She frowned. "No, it's just… you mentioned a medical appointment. You're not sick are you?" She waved her hand dismissively.
"No, routine check up. Hey, I'll pass this unto Zach, and he can start work on it. When will the bones be delivered?" Booth grinned, pointing over the railing to where two lab-coated men pushed a gurney of dirty bones across the laboratory. "What if I had said no?" Brennan asked, glaring. Booth laughed, the sound attracting the attention of two scientists below.
"Aw Bones, you can't say no to me. Anyway, I'll check in tomorrow. Speak to you then, yeah?" She nodded, descending the stairs to the lab below.
"Good afternoon, Temperance, how are you?" Dr Williamson asked, offering her the chair that faced his desk. "I'm sorry that we had to call you back. I know you're very busy." Brennan nodded, distinctly aware that every second she sat making small talk with her doctor was precious time she was missing in the lab.
"Yes, Dr Williamson," she said, smiling tightly. The gynaecologist was well into his fifties, with a soft manner and a pleasant smile. He relaxed her, and made her feel like everything was okay. But today he was wringing his hands together and drinking gulps from his water glass.
"Temperance," he said at last. "Your smear results came in last week." She nodded, folding her legs.
"Yes, the lady mentioned it. Were the tests unclear? It's happened before…" her doctor shook his head.
"The tests were clear, Temperance. Unfortunately the results aren't what we'd have liked. There were no cancerous cells. But your fallopian tubes are blocked. If you're trying to conceive…" Brennan shook her head.
"You'd only have a thirty five percent chance of success. If you want children-"
"Temperance, please…" Williamson looked pained. "You need to think carefully about this. You're still a young woman, and if you begin immediately then you may have a chance. But… if you're sure you have no desire to have a child…" He spread his fingers wide with a shrug. Brennan straightened in her chair.
"Well, thank you, doctor…" she stood, smiling tightly. "I'll think about what you said…" When I am finished finding out why my latest victim died. When I am time to actually worry about it. I'm too busy for children. She almost shuddered at the thought. Not being able to conceive was hardly the worst news she could have gotten. She never wanted babies, anyway. She had no maternal instinct. Or any desire to find one.
Her gynaecologist opened the door, smiling patiently. "I understand you're a busy woman, Temperance," he said again. "But I recommend you make time for this." She wanted to retort that he had no idea how busy she was. Nor did he have a persistent FBI agent coming into his office every other day asking for updates and speedy findings. She nodded.
"I will," she promised, making a mental note to do just that - right after 'put out the trash' and 'proof read chapter nine'.
Getting into her car, she turned the key in the ignition and sighed. No children. Ever. She should have felt robbed, shouldn't she? But she didn't. Aside from the dull ache of shock, she felt nothing.
Again, the introduction chapter to explain what's happening. Hope you liked. Let me know…
Oh, promise some serious Brennan angst and Booth comfort… ha… and some Brennan and Booth sex, too. Of course she really wants her baby!