Disclaimer: All characters portrayed here are fictional. No infringement of rights intended. Bones & its characters are a product of Fox Inc. & not mine. No financial gain is received from this work of fiction.
Summary: What happens when the dust settles?
Thanks: See Below.
Ms Caroline Julian's Residence
21Hrs After The Events In Home Park
With cell tucked under her ear, held in place by her shoulder; a stack of files precariously balanced on her forearm, and fumbling to unlock the door with her free hand, Caroline dreaded what she was going to find inside her home. 'Yes, yes, I understand, Cherie, but my butt hasn't touched the ground since I got out of that underground palace!' she riled, unusually flustered, wishing she'd never got her cell back. Being without it had been a blessing she'd never expected to enjoy. Now she was seriously considering, accidentally on purpose, dropping it and stamping it out of existence as it hadn't stopped ringing since she put the battery back in. 'I'll be in tomorrow… Yes, well, that'll have to do! What? Oh. Bite me!' Finally getting her door open with a grunt of triumph, she powered inside, kicked the door closed behind her, and dropped the tipping pile of Pelant related files onto the nearest chair.
The caller still chuntered on in her ear as she scanned her lounge for her three Maine Coon cats, expecting to find the upholstery ripped to shreds and a pile of scats the height of Mount St Helens in the litter tray. But everything looked as she'd left it and in the kitchen too, and thought her starving cats had probably left home or worse, died in her laundry hamper. 'I'm hanging up,' she interrupted her Boss, bored with his fractious rant about case loads. 'Don't push me, Clive, a'm-a-lady-on-the-edge!' She snapped the cell shut, immediately ripping out the battery, muttering blue-tinged profanities when it struggled with her. Suddenly she was spun by large dark hands, and grabbed into a shocking delicious clinch. She dropped the cell, and it clattered to the hardwood floor of the kitchen. Her eyes and mouth widened in complete surprise and confusion when her ex husband, David Barron, looking boldly intense, raced his wild, relieved eyes over her expression, then kissed her passionately. She had no defence and didn't put up any, instantly snapping her arms around him to kiss him back just as fervently. His almost forgotten, yet wonderfully familiar, hands raced over her back; sides, face and shoulders: checking, as he leant his weight into her, and pushed her up against the Frigidaire, rocking it, its contents and her to the core.
She didn't know where he'd come from, how he got in, nor cared that they'd been divorced for over ten years: she was just overjoyed that he was here to welcome her home safe, and had someone that cared enough for her to have missed her. Being a singleton and having no one to hold through the long nights in the last few months had been a strain and left her feeling very isolated and depressed; which had inevitably fuelled her excessive comfort eating.
David broke his hungry kiss first, and locked eyes with her, panting slightly. Even after ten years she recognised that look, and wagged her finger in his face, her wet lips gradually curving, 'Daaa-vid -,' she warned sassily, 'we're not married anymore…'
David grinned with the heat of a winter's log fire, and tugged her towards the upstairs; obviously that wasn't an issue for him still being single. It wasn't for her either. 'Where's my cats?' she asked, trotting with him, feeling as giddy as a teenager.
Caroline laughed, hearing his deep gritty retort, 'I got bored and hungry waiting for ya, so I ate them…'
Both panting heavily, and sprawled flat out on the rumpled bed sheets, they blinked at the spinning ceiling, stunned by their unbridled lusty performances. With delirious exhausted smiles, they finally rolled heads to look at one another. 'Woman -,' David began his sincere compliment in Barry White tones, 'you've got the energy of a nuclear reactor, a divine body and, my - God, you still know how to use it…'
Caroline's smile faded slightly, and looked back to the ceiling, recalling Pelant's cruel derogatory remarks, hurting, and said self-deprecatingly, 'I'm big - fat - ugly…'
Sensing the inner pain that she rarely allowed anyone to see, David rolled onto his side, palming down her feather soft meridian adoringly, saying with deep conviction, 'No - you're not… You, are, beautiful -,' then curling his palm around the fleshy mound of a full breast, added sensuously, nuzzling into her ear, 'sump-tuous -,' he gently squeezed to prove his deep admiration of her ample form, 'you're extravagant in everyway - 'n' all woman, Caroline. And I still love every…' he paused when her doorbell sounded, and she sighed heavily, wilting at the untimely interruption before dessert was served. Caroline got up, split the blinds with her fingers, and looked down to the porch. 'Who is it?'
'A friend…' She returned to him, and kissed his lips tenderly. 'I have to go out for a while, David - will you still be here later?' He nodded, and propped himself up on his elbows as she walked into the bathroom, adding, 'Let 'em in, Cher - I won't be long…'
Private Waiting Room
Flicking through a well thumbed copy of last July's National Geographic, Caroline asked, 'Do you want me to come in with you?' Her friend shook their head, picking their nails nervously. Seeing that nervousness, she said softly, taking their hand, 'It's nothing to be ashamed of, Cherie - you know that, we've all…' she trailed off when the consulting room door opened, and a smiling warm face appeared around it.
'Lance? Please, come through…' the doctor encouraged pleasantly. Sweets stood, kissed the back of Caroline's hand, and went into the psychologist's room. He looked back over his shoulder to her, and she winked comfortingly, gesturing with her hand for him to go. As the door re-closed leaving her alone, she breathed out, crossed her legs; getting comfortable. Now she picked up last Augusts edition of the NG magazine, and began to read an article that caught her eye. It was about the US's 3.76 billion dollar budget for the National Nano Initiative to advanced chip technology and prosthetics. She snorted at the irony, muttering, 'The yella fellas are waaay ahead of ya, guys…'
Courts Of Justice
Judge Jonas Presiding
Trope was pleased that this Judge, who had dropped the charges against Dr Brennan, was presiding over Tasmin's case too. And it was a well keep, open secret, that Trope had let it be known in the court circles that this and her cases were linked; knowing Jonas would get wind of that. He knew, although Jonas had shown complete impartiality in Dr Brennan's case and had a fierce reputation, he also had a softer underbelly when it came to matters involving children; having lost his only son to leukaemia at age seven. That, he thought, was going to work in Tasmin's favour. Trope was hoping now, that with his usual pragmatic style and brevity, the case against Tasmin would be thrown out in a matter of minutes and they could all move on. Trope was not to know how far out his timescale was.
Jonas settled at the bench, and pushed the unopened file to his right, and began with the line, 'Let the record show, that Miss Tasmin Sprott, twenty years of age, of an undisclosed halfway house in Arlington, is hereby, cleared of the charge of Infanticide…' Tasmin barely registered a smile, Trope noted, but he couldn't help but feel the relief for her. He watched her stare unblinking at the Jonas with her hands folded anxiously on her lap, looking overawed by his stern posture and tone. He noted too that Jonas had looked everywhere but into her eyes yet.
'The death of her seven week old child has been found, unequivocally, to have been a tragedy. Her child was a victim of Infant Cot Death Syndrome…' The prosecution looked sheepish, and glanced to Tasmin, who didn't move a muscle.
Finally Jonas looked to her, with, 'Miss Sprott?' Trope looked to her again as Jonas addressed her directly. Tasmin blinked to focus her eyes, just as a single tear slipped onto her cheek. She didn't remove it. Jonas' tone lowered and softened dramatically as he offered, 'Miss Sprott, may I just bestow my sincere condolences for the loss of your child and furthermore - offer you an apology…' Trope's eyes widened slightly in surprise at that, and listened intently.
'It's my understanding that you spent in excess of five months innocently incarcerated and were a victim yourself of a brutal physical attack which almost took your life in defence of another…' Tasmin nodded once a miniscule amount to acknowledge that truth. Jonas went on, clearly moved by her story and challenging background, 'I cannot imagine your suffering at losing your child in these dreadful circumstances, and then having that suffering compounded by the contemptible investigatory skills of Detective Peter Grant in charge of your case.' Jonas' direct assertion shocked most in the court, but didn't surprise Trope because he knew what exactly had incited him to it.
Jonas looked to the prosecution team, asking rhetorically, and with some sarcasm, 'I don't expect he's here, is he? No - just as well, I suppose…' Trope slid his eyes to the sweaty prosecution, with a wry smile burning to venture to his lips.
'Reading his, these, frankly amateurish, shameful case notes -,' Jonas opened the file with Detective Grant's notes inside, scathing, 'the patchy, supposed, yet to most unconvincing, confession by you, Miss Sprott, under extreme distress and grief: and please forgive me if I may be so insensitive; learning of your lower than average IQ - It's obvious what happened here, and that disturbs me greatly and so it should all law enforcement and be a warning…' Trope swallowed hard, and took a slow inhale. 'The buck stops with me, hence my unreserved apology to you for having to be put through this debacle.' Trope would've whooped and applauded if he could but Jonas went on, obviously with a bee in his metaphorical bonnet, 'If the relevant authorities, social and medical professionals, coroner excreta had investigated your case and questioned your confession without prejudice, common sense and with an open mind, you never would've been sent to prison and consequently wouldn't have been attacked so savagely… I shall be making a strong appeal to have Detective Grant's position reassessed by his superiors and all other cases he's investigated re-evaluated.'
Jonas then played his trump with his soft under belly hardening, 'Mr Trope, as Miss Sprott's council I'd remind you to apply for damages in relation to Miss Sprott's acute injuries; medical bills, loss of earnings, home, compensation for her emotional and physical stress, and time locked up unnecessarily - and while you're at it, sue the relevant authorities for their incompetence. I'm certain your applications will be settled without delay. If they are not - I will hear about IT…!' Everybody flinch as he finished with a snapped angry crescendo.
Standing, Trope knew that wasn't just a prompt it was a command, so assured with, 'Yes, Your Honour.' He sat again.
Calming Jonas gave him a solemn nod, closed the file ending with a soft sweet smile for Tasmin, and, 'Miss Sprott, I hope now you can move on with the rest of your life and find, in part, some peace.'
The court watched as Tasmin stood up slowly, holding her tender stomach, saying with determination and a twinkle of pride in her eyes, 'I'm going to readin' and writin' classes - gonna get smart.'
With an enchanted rare smile and a tear forming in his eye, Jonas said encouragingly, 'Ex-cellent, excellent - Good luck in all you do, Miss Sprott.' There was a snap of silence as they shared a lingering smile, then Jonas left the court with a barked, 'Dismissed!'
The FEMA commander arrived at the barrier in a Chevy, incognito, and flashed his pass through the reader. The barrier rose and he drove in, easily finding a space in the staff parking lot. Dressed in an ordinary suit and tie, he reached for the briefcase in the foot well, and got out. Walking through the Spartan, clinical reception to the desk, he smiled at the receptionist. 'Hi, beautiful day. The trees are turning.' She nodded to agree with his Fall observation. 'Jackman for Mrs Hislop - she's expecting me,' he said casually, and handed her his pass. She slipped into a reader, and it bleeped. Smiling pleasantly, handing it back, she gestured to the elevators.
'Level six. I'll let her know you're on the way, Mr Jackman.'
'Thanks.' He headed for the elevator, and descended, staring at the numbers as they clicked down, thoughtless. The doors opened, another desk was directly ahead but with no receptionist this time: just what looked like a webcam and chin rest directly below the lens on a small pylon, and pressure pad next to it. He put his chin on the rest, and placed his right thumb in the pressure pad. Both his thumb print and retina were scanned, a few seconds later a door to his right opened with a buzz and a clunk. Walking through it, it automatically closed sharply behind him. In the empty corridor, except for a camera following his progress, he headed towards the door at the far end. There was a PIN lock to open it. He tapped in the code, watching as the four red light turned green, and the door opened. He smiled hard when he saw Mrs Hislop waiting on the other side wearing a white lab coat and hands in the pockets. Jackman greeted, 'Hello, Mrs Hislop, long time, no see.'
'Ha. Good. How's the family?' she enquired breezily, clipping efficiently down the corridor in sensible court shoes, and turned to the left at the end, then continued as it sloped downwards.
'Good, good. Your's?'
'All fine, thank you. Getting belligerent.' Jackman grinned. Tapping in another, different code, and swiping her pass, Mrs Hislop pulled the next door open, and let him enter first into the dark space. The sound of low humming white noise made them feel as if they were under water, and a little unsteady. Unsighted, but knowing exactly where it was, she switched on the lights. The florescent strip-lights blinked, disorientating for a moment, then lit up from them, running away into the far distance. The light they gave off revealed uniform high shelves that ran away too, and stretched out either side of them. There was a computer terminal on a desk to their left, Hislop sat on the chair behind it, saying, 'Ok. Deposit Ref: 12932B. Date. Lethal contaminates -,' she tapped the keyboard with a flurry of fingers, 'V-X.' She solidly hit return and a printer under the desk started to chunter. At the same time Jackman had put his briefcase on the desk, rolled in the unlock code, then flicked open the catches. He removed a nondescript black lead box without mode to open it, and put on the desk in front of her. Casually Hislop stuck the label on the top of the box she'd just printed off. Picking it up, they both walked down between the storage shelves similar to a library to find the relevant shelf and position in the vault. As they walked side by side, she asked cheerily, 'Did you get away for a vacation this year?'
'No, no yet. I've got another couple weeks to go then we're off to Maine for a few days to see Maggie's parents.' Hislop nodded with a sweet smile, scanning the shelves. 'Then hopefully we'll catch the best of the Fall colours driving back through Vermont.'
Mrs Hislop crooned, sounding decidedly envious, 'Oh. That sounds wonderful. Arh. Here we are...' She came to a stop, and pointed to a gap. Jackman placed the heavy box on the shelf, alongside many others of various shapes and sizes, adjusting it so the label could be read clearly.
The full label read: Deposit Ref : 12932B - Date: 9/9/2012 - LETHAL CONTAMINATE - VX. Then in tiny print at the bottom left hand side of the label in brackets, almost as an afterthought, was printed: (Including ashes - Pelant. C.)
Without emotion, deference or ceremony they walked away, chatting casually about vacations and the gourmet delights of fresh Maine lobsters and clams.
Later That Evening
Dr Cam Saroyan's Residence
Michele handed Cam a chilled glass of chilled chardonnay, and sat next to her on the couch, close. Cam took a sip, closing her eyes as she did, and swallowed slowly; savouring the crisp dry wine. 'Are you ok?' Cam opened her eyes and nodded, placing the glass on the coffee table, heeled off her shoes, then tucked her feet up under herself. 'Really, I mean, really?' Michele pushed gently, clearly still concerned for her surrogate Mom. Cam smiled warmly, put her arm around her shoulders, and drew her nearer.
'I'm fiiine,' she reassured again. 'It's over. I'm home safe. That's all that matters, right?' Michele kissed her cheek sweetly, resting her head on her shoulder. Then Cam crooned with deep pleasure: calmed by the comforts of her peaceful familiar surroundings, 'It's sooo good to be home - with nothing to do for a couple of days except sleep, eat and be with you.' Michele, grinning hard, looked up into her eyes, they shared a relieved loving smile until the door bell sounded. Then they both groaned at being disturbed from their cosy cuddle.
'I'll go.' Michele was up in a flash, and trotted over to the door, checking who it was via the peephole. Grimacing, and stepping back, Michele asked at a whisper, 'Its that FBI guy - do you wanna see him?' Cam snapped her mouth closed with a slow huff, and sagged, thinking it was Hacker come to pick her brains or update her. 'If you hide behind the couch, I can…' she paused when the bell sounded again, and her eyes widened further. Relenting, Cam feebly gestured with her hand to let him in. Permission given, Michele put back on her welcoming smile, and opened the door.
Cam nearly spat her wine out when Flynn walked over the threshold with an anxious smile for Michele, and a darting look to Cam. She shot to her bare feet, and wiped her lips dry with the back of her hand. Michele closed the door quietly, seeing them sharing a long stare in complete and painful silence. Feeling like the third unwanted wheel suddenly, and with discretion, Michele informed, 'I've, aaarh, got an essay to catch up on - see you later.' She trotted up the stairs, glaring at Cam, with a wry smile on her lips. Cam didn't acknowledge her or it.
Flynn shoved a hand into his pocket, not feeling so confident any more, and apologised, 'Sorry - I shouldn't have come over so late. It's been a crazy twenty four hours. I'll go…' Feeling just as awkward, Cam shook her head but he'd already turned, missing it, and had his hand on the door handle to leave.
'Wait… wait, Flynn.' He paused with his hand on the handle but didn't turn. She took a breath, and asked boldly, 'What did you want?' Their relationship, if it could be called that, was based purely on sex and she knew that wasn't a good start. She doubted his motives, hers and the prudence of continuing with it.
He turned slowly, and shrugged his shoulders, saying candidly, 'I don't honestly know for sure. I thought maybe…' Cam tilted her head, crinkling her brow, and narrowing her eyes. He read her body language and expression, and realised he'd been mistaken; their physical intermissions had obviously been a valve to release pressure and nothing more than that. 'No, stupid, my mistake,' he castigated himself under his breath, then decided it was better to retreat than make a complete ass of himself, 'It was a - plea-sure -,' saying that word as if he knew it was totally lame and inappropriate, 'to work with you…' Cam hid her smile by looking down to her agitated toes, and folded her arms across her midriff. But he caught her smirk, and saw hope in it. He stepped cautiously nearer. 'I'll look forward to working with you again, Cam…' Cam looked up into his eyes, hearing his subtext loud and clear, and was un-flattered by it, 'you know - sometime in the near future?' But again he'd obviously misread the signs because she rapidly lost her smile, and walked past him to the kitchen, and opened the fridge door. He lost his smile too, and scratched his head absently as if it was starting sprout question marks.
'If you've come over here just to get laid for one last time - you're outta luck,' she said curtly, pouring another glass of wine. At the top of the stairs, lurking and eavesdropping, Michele silently gasped hearing that, then strained to hear more juicy details. Flynn's jaw dropped, horrified she'd taken his visit as such. She went on protectively, 'We had some fun, it worked - you helped me I helped you - but it's over. I'd rather forget it, if you don't mind.'
'Oooh. Heeey, look…' he pined, mentally kicking himself, feeling filleted. Then responded to her accusations, 'I didn't come over to…' he thought he best not say fuck you, cos that didn't sound good in his head, so went on, 'And yeah, it worked, but it was a little more than just fun, for me at least.' Michele cocked a brow. Cam sipped some wine, holding it on her tongue, as she listened. 'And you're right, we did help each other out.' He stepped towards her on the other side of the counter top, adding sincerely, 'But, Cam -,' she looked up again, 'I can't forget it - I don't want to…' Cam stared into his eyes, then dropped them away, fighting with herself and emotions. He was handsome; intelligent, fun, at times but he was also self-obsessed, arrogant, too ambitious and cock-sure of himself. As she rattled off his many cons, it didn't pass her by that she was standing on one of the many spots where she'd ridden his eager cock with selfish abandon, arrogance, and with her own greedy ambition. Staring into the glass of wine, circling its rim with her index finger, and while assessing her own faults he'd left. It was only when the door clicked shut that she came out of her melancholy reflection. She spun, looking through the kitchen window as he paced down her drive, and got in his car.
Cam shot out of her front door, and ran barefoot down the drive, shouting, 'Wait up! Flynn! Ow-OW-ooww. Ssshit!' She'd ran over a stone, and nearly sprawled over her lawn, then muttered, 'Bugger-bugger…' Her near ungraceful tumble inevitably caught his eye, and he glanced over as she hobbled cutely up to his window, and tapped it. He tried to keep his amused smile off his face as he slowly let the window down. She leant on the window slit, and said through it, clearly in some pain, 'I'm sorry - I don't know what this is either or what I want.' He nodded, seeing her taking the weight off her foot. 'But, I think I'd like to see you again - socially. Dinner maybe - or a movie?' Flynn looked out of the windshield, feeling like a glee-bomb had gone off in his chest for her sweet request for a date.
'You wanna date - do the whole romance thing, kiss 'n' that - aren't we a bit past that already?' he balked, sneering at the sappy starting from first base thing. Cam twitched at his rejection, not getting his mind games; being so out of practise.
'Eeermm. Just a thought, never mind,' she regrouped, then started to turn but he grabbed her hand then the other. She squealed loudly as he tugged her through the window till her legs were flailing outside. 'W'aahhaha!' giggling and squirming, Cam couldn't do anything else but surrender to his romantic manoeuvre. He hauled her the rest of the way through the window. She rolled over as he prowled for her lips with her feet still sticking out the window. Both chuckling madly, she smacked his shoulder to chastise him for his silly idea and spontaneity, although she adored it. His hot eyes shamelessly undressed her: making her smoulder, while his hand caressed a thigh. 'You're sooo bad,' she purred with a diamond glint in her eye, then they kissed rampantly.
Michele had heard her scream, and watched from an upper window with a chuckle of her own as he'd dragged her through the window to kiss her. She noted a few drapes twitching across the street too, and Cam's toes curling out of the window as they necked on the front seats.
Ten minutes later he carried Cam back to her open door looking heavenly ravaged with a silly smudged smile on her lips she couldn't shift with dynamite. He placed her gently onto her feet, pecked her lips quickly, saying over his shoulder as he trotted back to the car, 'I'll call ya!'
'You better!' she shouted after him, slamming the door. Michele stood at the top of the stairs with her mouth hanging, arms folded over her stomach and Cam wandering where she's learnt that from. Cam looked up to her, flattening her hair, and tugging down her skirt, attempting to looked composed: it didn't work. 'What?' Cam challenged Michele innocently, returning to the couch and her drink. Michele rumbled down the stairs, and leapt onto the couch beside her, almost making her spill her wine. Cam played it cool or tried to, knowing Michele knew nothing of their relationship before this and wanted details. But that wasn't what was her mind at all.
With a stern patronising voice she didn't mean, Michele commanded, with a playful smack to Cam's thigh, 'You, are, sooo grounded, young lady…' Cam did, this time, spit her wine, and started belly laughing with her beloved daughter.
Booth & Bones' Residence
Booth held his hands over Bones' eyes from behind, with an excited smile on his face, steering her towards the nursery door. 'No peeking now,' he warned cutely.
'Haa. Booth, it'll be just the same, I imagine. They architect said he would…' she trailed off as Booth took his hands away, and she opened her eyes. They widened, and her smile got a whole lot bigger. She spun, and kissed his madly smiling lips. She smothered him her excited sugar and mumbled her approval. The nursery was as it had been but was filled with balloons and happy welcome home banners and bunting. An equally bubbly Parker jiggled about in the centre of the room, trying not to watch as Bones practically devoured Booth, but sniggering at them.
Booth dragged his mouth off hers but still kept her close via an arm around her waist. 'Look-look,' he gushed, stepping over to a new door, 'I had him put in a connecting door to our room.'
'Excellent thinking, Booth,' she praised liberally, patting over his thoughtful heart.
Booth bumbled, giddy with her kisses, 'Yeah, well, I thought it's the quickest route - you might want, whatever, you know…' Bones interrupted him with another clutch of kisses that made him go weak-kneed now. Then she turned her attention to Parker just as fast and affectionately.
'Did you help to do all this?' she gestured to all the pink balloons and ribbons. Parker nodded fast, then pointed.
'Look, Bones, the last one got blown up so I made another one.' He proudly pointed to a new mobile, and turned it on.
Bones gasped seeing the photo's, surprised he'd managed to get more. Parker knew instinctively what she was going to ask, so explained before she did, 'Ange was amazing, Bones! You know she asked for your smashed up laptop?' Bones nodded. 'Well, she managed to save the video but all the photos as well. I just printed them off.' Bones hugged him hard, and kissed the top of his wild hair.
'It's all wonderful. How's your room?' she asked, flaring her eyes and beaming. Blushing, Parker squeezed her tight in hard thanks.
Parker gushed, knowing she was referring to his new laptop and games console and chair he could barely wait to try out. 'Radical, Bones, flippin' raaad,' clearly overjoyed with his new updated room. She laughed, cuddling him tight again. They looked around as Booth came in with Christine in his arms, muttering to her to look at her new room. 'Look, Chrissy, your mobile,' Parker said, waving Booth closer. He came over with her and her eyes lit up, and tiny hands reached for it. Bouncing her up and down, Booth snuffled into her cheek while Bones palmed down his back, adoring seeing him so happy. Just as she was about to kiss Booth's cheek one of the many balloons popped. Booth and Bones gasped an, 'Oh!' and Parker jumped, shocked as well. But Christine's bottom lip started to quiver, then she began to cry which was followed by a chorus from all of, 'Awww, it's alright, Christine,' as they all comforted her. She nuzzled into Booth's chest but still crying, and started to get up a head of steam.
Parker grimaced. 'Wow, I've never heard her cry - she's pretty loud! Is that like, normal?!' Parker remarked loudly over her blubbering, putting his fingers in his ears.
'Haa. Yes. But I think we should distract her - Parker, sing something…' Parker looked at Bones as if she was asking him to climb Everest, blindfolded, and on stilts.
'I'll sing,' Booth stepped up bravely, with a happy-go-lucky smile, opening his mouth and taking a lungful.
But Bones and Parker barked together, thinking his dulcet tones would harm her delicate ears, 'No!' Booth snapped his mouth shut, and looked deeply offended. Bones took her from his arms, before pecking his cheek to placate, and gave her a bobbing cuddle. Christine slowly settled, wrapping her arms around Bones' neck. Booth stared at them together, practically melting into a puddle on the floor as Bones began to sing softly in her ear along with the tune Parker's mobile played. Parker glanced to his Dad, with his chest exploding with pride and delight that Christine was listening to the sweet melody. Booth put his knuckles up to him, and Parker tapped them, then hugged his Dad, as they too joined it to calm Christine. In a family huddle now, Christine looked down at Parker, and smiled, the light filling her sparkling eyes again.
'Paar-paa,' she cooed, reaching for him. Bones immediately put her into his arms. They watched, as Parker kissed her cheek, and grinned so hard his eyes almost closed.
'Hey, Chrissy. You're much lighter than Michael - which is cool. Did ya get scared by that silly balloon - no need to cry, I'll protect ya - we all will. Look -,' he walked over to the mobile again, and made it turn faster, 'there's you, me, Mom and Dad, see?'
Booth slipped his arm around Bones again, as proud as punch and emotional, seeing all his family home together. But Bones knew Booth needed to have a man-to-man with Parker, so whispered in his ear, 'I'll leave you two alone for a while.' Booth pecked her lips softly, and watched her leave, closing the door quietly behind her.
'Hey, Park, come over here, sit-down,' Booth encouraged, taking a seat too on the couch.
Parker grinned, suspecting what was coming. He put Christine on the carpet with a few toys, then sat with him. 'I know what you're gonna say, Dad - and its ok, I won't tell Mom. She'll flip out if she knows everything, won't she?' Booth took a deep breath held it, then let it go through his nostrils.
'Yeah, it'll be the end, I think. I don't wanna lie or make you lie but sometimes to save people from worry a white lie can be justified.' Parker nodded solemnly.
'She already knows about the bunker and the explosion - but if I tell her I went to the park she'll blame you, and that's not fair when it was all my idea. Mom doesn't need to know that bit - not really.' Booth thought he was saying that to convince himself and cement his own thoughts.
Booth rubbed his palms nervously, and huffed out. 'That's up to you, Son. I'll back you all the way, whatever you decide to tell her.' Parker nodded, looking back to Christine staring bright-eyed at all the swaying colourful balloons.
'Ok, cool… Luv ya, Dad.' Parker nestled into Booth chest, never to old for a hug. They watched Christine patting balloons, and gurgling merrily now, their smiles returning.
'So what about that skater babe with the hots for you then - what's her name?' Booth asked with a wry smile, feeling the heat through his t-shirt from Parker's cheek given off by his riotous blush.
'Gabby, her name's Gabby, Dad, and she hasn't got the hots for me - that's soo lame. She's a major player down the bowl. She's got rad wheels, awesome moves and no fear that's…' Parker paused when Booth started sniggering, knowing his Dad was winding him up.
'You fancy her,' Booth teased, ruffling up his hair. Parker started laughing, shooting him a weird look, and sitting back up.
'Haa. Fancy? Jeeze, how old are you, Dad - a hundred? Nobody says fancy anymore…' Booth felt like the balloon in his chest had popped now.
Dawn The Next Day
Booth & Bones' Residence
The cinnamon dawn slowly warmed and brightened their bedroom, and lit up the nursery next door too where Christine who was sound asleep. Bones loved that she could see her from her prone position, with one hand caressing Booth's soft hair between her open thighs and the other gripping the bedstead with all her might. She mused, this was the best morning ever experienced. Booth wasn't just good at oral pleasure he was phenomenal, she pondered, almost mindless. She thought it must be because he enjoyed giving it so much.
Dragging her eyes from Christine's face she looked to the marshmallow mound of sheets covering his body and head, and tried not to laugh. She lifted them to look at him, his wild eyes shot open and up to hers, then he smiled with a raunchy flash of his eyes. 'Is she awake?' he muttered secretively. Bones shook her head, then gently pushed him back to it pronto before she went off the delicious boil. 'I can't get enough of your ambrosia…'
Bones grinned hearing that, and retorted sarcastically, 'Thankfully not a biblical reference this time.'
Booth nipped at her clit in playful punishment, but it didn't hurt - she loved it. Spreading her thighs wider with an insistent push with his knuckles, and popping a thumb inside her to give her something to work, he did it again. She stifled the guttural moan that threatened to leave her throat, and closed her eyes to concentrate; internally visualizing every divine sloppy lick, kiss, curl, tender suck and cheeky flick of his astonishing tongue. She found it fascinating and utterly sensual that the closer she got to climaxing, even if she was as quiet and still as she could manage, he became more vocal with his mumbles and sighs. The way he was so in tune with her body and mind never ceased to amaze her. His tenderness was unsurpassed and yet she'd watched him near enough beat a man to death with such viciousness it was hard to believe this was the same man. But that was one of his many allures; being capable of such violence and wrath and yet equally capable of such tenderness and empathy.
With her emotions inevitably running high, glancing one last time to Christine before she let go, an excess of jubilant thoughts bludgeoned her; Christine was back, Pelant was no more, everyone was safe, they'd finally prevailed. That was the mental ecstasy: now was time for the physical equivalent.
Like rainbow petrol swirls on puddles of water: her thoughts and emotions jumbled up amid her increasing rapture. On the brink, Bones pushed his head down harder into her soft flesh, grit her jaw, and willing drowned herself in the physical ecstasy too.
When she opened her eyes again Booth was draped over her, but cocooning her in his hot embrace and she was staring fuzzily at Christine. 'You were so quiet,' he observed softly, with some surprise, staring at their daughter too from the pillow of her chest. Bones grinned, knowing he was referring to her unusual mute climax.
'I didn't want to wake her,' she whispered, caressing his nape as they both watched Christine sleep with blithe smiles. 'Don't assume I didn't enjoy that just because of my lack of vocalisation - you blew my gaskets.' Booth sniggered, squeezing her tightly, loving that she was picking up on his mechanical euphemisms.
'She's so dazzling beautiful - I can barely breathe sometimes when I look at her.'
Bones felt him nod as he caressed her breast, then heard him sigh despondently, and whisper, 'Houston, I think we might have a problem…' Bones looked down into his eyes with a question in them as he looked up. Booth confessed softly, 'I got hard but not really hard, you know…?' He quirked his lips, plainly concerned that the VX may have done some permanent damage. Bones caressed his jaw sympathetically, knowing he usually got right off when he made love to her like that.
Bones began, 'Not that the loss of a full erection concerns me, but I can see it does you.' Booth nodded. 'You must know, Booth, our relationship is not based on whether you can perform sexually -,' Bones saw him sag, and nuzzle, clearly still worried, 'but again, I can sense, whether you can satisfy me that way, does worry you.' Kissing his head, then pulling him up to be face to face with her, both on their sides and limbs entwined. 'The good news is you did, and have, a partial erection now, that implies that things may improve in the future. But if they don't, I don't want you to think I'll feel any differently about our relationship.' She could see him silently mutter in his head via his worried eyes: you say that now.
She held him tighter. 'I love you and not just for your penis, however…' she trailed off when he rolled onto his back, and brushed his hair through his fingers, still not placated.
'I know, there are those pills - I get it,' he sulked adorably. Bones grinned slyly, rolled over his body, then straddled his thighs. She reached behind them, and drew the sheet up over her head, with a waggle of her brows. Booth couldn't help but grin at her despite his crushed ego. She fell slowly over him, covering them completely with the sheet.
'How hard do you want to get?' she asked vamp-ishly, biting wet kisses across his lips. She could see his brow furrow deeply with his confusion.
'Bones, hard is hard,' he said truculently, 'hard enough to… you know?'
'Fuck me?' she asked against his lips, and felt him throb at her core for her coarse vocab. She'd always found he enjoyed it when she got earthy, so pandered to that.
'Yeah -,' kissing down his throat, she simultaneously pinched his nipples making his breath hitch, 'ow, shit, that hurt.'
She cocked an unrepentant brow. 'Hurts good though, eh?' Booth nodded, watching her descend, thickening all the time. She handed the sheet to him to create a tent over them. 'You haven't answered my question - how hard?'
Booth lost his horny smile a little, sounding worried now, 'Oh. Crap, what are you gonna do?'
'Haa. I'm going to experiment. I believe stimulation is key…' Bones took his semi erection in hand, then flicked hard with her middle finger at his fraenulum just under his notch without warning. He jolted, and sucked in a breath through his gritted molars. It stung but a surge of blood shot to the cluster of nerve ends: waking them up. Booth squeezed his buttocks tight to the delicious surge of sensation, and saw his cock stand straight, rumbling deep in his throat. But that hard wasn't good enough for Bones. Her sultry grin widened as she did it again, sending another violent shockwave up his spine and blood race to pack his cock out and up.
'Arh!' Another heated gush pumped into his cock as his hips came off the sheets, almost bucking her off him.
'Whoa, cowboy, haa.' Bones bucked with him, highly amused, then chastised in the same breath, 'and shush - you'll wake her.' He would have sworn at her for that reprimand because as it was her that started this.
Booth looked down to his precious angry cock that was firm enough to punch a hole in lead, then into her silky arrogant eyes and smile. 'What did ya do?' he asked incredulously, realising he was never going to need pills with her around.
She ignored his question with a sexually smug, 'Hard enough yet?' Not waiting for his answer she flicked again, this time he gasped, and gripped her hips. That one, she realised, was the charm and had the desired effect: Booth looked practically traumatised by how hard he wanted to fuck her. He was not just raring to go but now he was bursting.
'Fffuck meee-get on-get on,' he commanded in a licentious sneer that shot straight to her core making it quake.
'Nnno,' she refused pointedly, narrowing her steaming, come get me, Big Boy, eyes.
The aloof look she gave him was his green light, and knew exactly what she'd done and why. He wrapped his arms around her waist just as she was getting off him, and they tumbled off the bed to the floor. Bones could help but giggle as she pretended to untangle herself from the sheet and his manic clutches, feeling her pussy throb expectantly. But Booth spun behind her on his knees on an alpha male mission to service his one and only female. He gripped her hips, steering his purple cock as tight as snare drum. Booth muttered his warning, 'Fuck-it - brace, Bones, brace.' On her knees, assuming the position, she looked over the rim of the bed to Christine, making sure she hadn't woken just as Booth aimed perfectly, butting his veined cock into her labia, then thrust deep into her. She bit the edge of the mattress, and gripped the under sheet in both fists, grinning triumphantly through her muffled groan of deep pleasure which he added too with his.
With 1800lbs of rock hard American male banging into her she thrilled that it was her virile American male pounding her. Carpet burned knees be damned, she thought, and went a little wild too.
Like tracer bullets his fiery eyes raced over her snaking spine and buttocks along with his hands. 'Lemme-see-those-dimples, Bones,' he insisted at a rush, reaching around to her clit, and strummed fast, thrusting wildly. She flinched to the extra stimulation, mumbled her long whine, arching her back, gripping tighter as another deep climax loomed large. Booth saw the cute dimples just above her buttocks appear as she met his thrusts with as much passion. 'Yeah, yeah, oh, sweet, Lord, you're fucking amazing - never been harder.' She would have given back that compliment thrice over if she could trust herself not to yell it aloud and wake Christine, Parker and the neighbours.
Just as they were both about to get off in a sweaty, breathless euphoric crusade, Christine rolled onto her stomach, pulled herself up in the cot, and looked in their direction. Stunned, Bones un-bit the mattress, and gasped, then toppled behind the bed, dragging Booth with her out of sight. But it was too late for Booth to prevent the inevitable; his blissful-fuelled pearly shots fired into the air like fountain jets, then dropped to splatter her hip and buttocks. 'Oh, arh, Jesus, sss-sorry.' They started to cackle like caught teenagers, hiding from a six month old. Both panting, Bones kissed him to sedate through his afterglow.
'W-what are we hiding for - she can't speak yet?' Booth whispered breathless, considerately cleaning Bones up with the sheet.
'I don't know - it just seemed a little impious to be having intercourse with her watching on,' she whispered back, still in stealth mode. Booth rolled his dreamy mellow eyes.
'Ma-ma!' Christine chirped, obviously knowing they were hiding. Bones smiled at Booth, and melted, hearing her call her name. Booth matched the power of her smile, and kissed her lips with the utmost affection and gentleness; the beast within back behind bars.
Bones untangled herself then, popped up over the mattress, saying brightly, 'Beek-a-boo!' Christine squealed with excitement, started to clap, and fell onto her bottom. Both parents began bobbing up and down alternatively to shout beek-a-boo at her, sending Christine into giggle raptures. 'Oh. Booth, I think my heart might explode,' Bones remarked goofily, with her palm over it.
'That would be your metaphorical one, I guess.' Bones smacked his butt for being so cheeky, and finally got up. As she was about to walk to Christine but Booth grabbed her ass, and bit it with a growl, sending her into another fit of giggles…
Two Hours Later
Private Medical Facility
Consultants Waiting Room
Doctor Braithwaite began, taking a seat behind his desk, and opening out Jack's results file, 'Right then, sorry to keep you waiting, Jack, I just had to consult with another colleague.' Ange held Jack's hand as they sat anxiously awaiting for the results of his MRI and other rigorous tests he'd been put through. They held their breaths. Seeing their acute tension, he started with the good news, 'Don't look so worried, apart from a few broken fingers and ligament damage, that will heal in time, and the tingling sensations you're experiencing in your extremities, all looks good.' Ange squeezed Jack's hand, and pecked his cheek but he still didn't seem placated yet.
'Will the numbness recede - will I get full sensation back in my finger tips?' Jack asked, knowing how important that was in his, sometimes delicate, work.
'Yes, again, in time. You'll need to have patience, Jack,' Braithwaite urged, with a understanding smile. 'But - I caution you, one cannot guarantee a full recovery.' Jack swallowed hard, but hoped for the best. 'All your vital organs took a hit but the scans, blood and urine tests show no residual damage other than what we would've expected in these circumstances. You're fitness, age, quick medical attention, and general excellent health are all factors which have contributed to a quick recovery and your prognosis is very good,' he added charmingly.
'What about my eyesight?'
Braithwaite lost a little of his smile, so did Ange, and re-crossed her legs. Braithwaite closed the file, and folded his hands over it as he explained, 'That's what I was consulting with my colleague about. As you're no doubt aware the retina is a very light sensitive membrane and has some of the finest blood vessels in the body supplying it - so the most susceptible to a lack of oxygen and blood flow which of course they sustained during the nerve agent attack. And the optic nerve and cortex were damaged. The loss of your periphery vision, I'm afraid, is not temporary - your retina's will not repair themselves.' Jack hung his head, and took a breath he needed, although he already suspected as much.
'Okay, what does that mean?' Ange asked, looking puzzled.
'It means, in layman's terms, permanent black spots in your peripheral vision - however the retina is most sensitive in the central area. You can see but the edges will be blurred - a kind of tunnel vision. You'll have to make small adjustments by moving your head a lot more - do you understand?' Jack nodded, then looked up again into his hazel eyes. 'You'll have to be re-certified to drive but for most of what you do; looking through microscopes excreta you shouldn't have a problem. It'll take you and your brain a little time to adjust to the new reality and ways of coping with it.' Jack nodded, already experiencing those adjustments.
With apprehension still lacing her tone, Ange asked, 'So he can still drive?'
'Yes, it's a strange situation really.' Braithwaite went to his coffee pot, and poured them each a brew. 'You'll be certified as partially sighted but still able to drive safely. The ophthalmologist wants a few more test done but your visual acuity is still within the driving limits.' He handed them a cup each, adding with a knowledgeable smile, 'The worst case - you'll have to wear spectacles, or if you prefer, contacts.' Braithwaite retook to his chair, concluding with an upbeat tone, 'All in all, considering what could have happened - you've been extremely fortunate, Jack.'
Deeply relieved, along with Jack, Ange whispered sweetly to him, 'Gotta be contacts, Sweetie - I don't want anything to hide those beautiful baby blues…'
FBI Hoover Building
Luggia tapped the frame of Hacker's door with his gold signet ring, informing solemnly, 'We've been summoned.'
'That didn't take 'em long,' Hacker replied grittily, getting up, gathering the files. 'Where?'
Luggia came in a few feet, tucking his hands in his pant's pockets. 'I've got an address,' he said evasively. Hacker froze, then narrowed his eyes at Luggia, who shrugged his shoulders, plainly unsurprised by the covert nature of the rendezvous.
They left his office together and made the journey across town to the address Luggia had been handed.
Walking the long corridor not talking: deep in thought and apprehension, they passed windowless steel doors with name plaques they didn't recognise. At the end of the corridor was a elevator with a armed guard standing in front of it at a desk. They were meticulously frisked, had their weapons, keys and cells removed, and signed them in for retrieval later.
'Friendly bunch,' Hacker remarked sarcastically of the mute emotionless guard. Luggia huffed mildly amused. Once stripped of anything that could possibly to used as a weapon and checked for bugs: they were ushered into the elevator. Hacker noted, as they descended that Luggia seemed to have gained a little moisture on his brow. 'Why are you nervous - its me they're gonna haul over the coals?' Luggia twitched in his shiny shoes, and dabbed his brow with a hanky.
The elevator doors opened into a large under-lit conference room. There was an oval table around which sat some faces he recognised, other's he didn't. They all stopped talking, and looked to them. At the head of the table was a silver haired man in his fifties, uniformed and covered in more brass and pips anyone could shake a stick at. Behind him was an enormous screen on which were imposed the letters for the acronym: APRI - COT. Under that was written: Approved Presidential Response Initiative - Covert Operations Team.
'Please, gentlemen, take a seat.' Hacker and Luggia went to the only two free chairs around the desk, and sat side by side. 'Thank you for being so prompt.' Pleasantries over the General went for the jugular, 'So - this is a sorry state of affairs. You called us in to assist you and look what happened - a cock-up of monumental proportions!'
Already taut with tension, Hacker riled immediately, 'Ex-cuse me! Yes, we called you in, in all good faith but you had another agenda and undermined the FBI at every opportunity. Pelant outsmarted you all, not just us!'
A scarily familiar voice said from the shadows, 'That's - not completely true, is it?' The President appeared out of those shadows and they all stood, gulping. 'Is it?' he insisted, pouring Hacker a glass of water, placing his hand on his shoulder, and put gentle pressure on him to sit. Hacker and the rest retook their seats. Luggia dabbed his brow again.
'No, Sir,' Hacker finally replied.
'No, indeed. This unit is rarely called upon but as you know now, Pelant had been on our radar for a while. We were not going to intervene in your investigations until…'
Hacker finished his sentence, 'Until his actions became too public.'
Not phased by his interruption, the President confirmed coolly, 'Exactly. I was strongly advised that we should engage to apprehend Pelant. With world politics in upheaval, the European Union in financial meltdown, the Arab Spring, the bloodbath in Syria, the Chinese - a Communist country snapping at our technological heels, and virtually every government on the planet trying to get hold of what Pelant had unleashed - it was a prudent measure.' Hacker thought that was spoken like a true, slippery diplomat; but it didn't impress or placate him. The President went on with an air or arrogance, 'The world looks to us for stability and reassurance in troubled times. Pelant's worm could've given us back some control, stability and leverage.'
'And, of course, you didn't want our nations secrets to become common knowledge either…' The President paused his slow walk around the oval table, and looked directly into Hacker's eyes. His emotions not discernable on his features nor in his body language but Hacker knew he'd hit a tender spot on him somewhere.
'No. But I have a duty to the people - to keep them safe.'
'By kidnapping Professor Liskov, assassinating a foreign national in cold blood, withholding vital information, bugging me, a prosecutor, members of the Jeffersonian team - how does that keep the people safe?' Luggia wanted the elevators doors to open so he could run in and get away; he couldn't believe Hacker was being so forthright and balls-y with his terse comments.
'Ignorance is bliss, Assistant Director Hacker…' Hacker huffed at that feeble excuse; the President caught it though, continuing, 'Most in this country aren't interested in politics, not the real politics and especially not international politics. They're not interested in computer worms that can tell them who killed who fifty years ago or whether we landed on the moon in 69.' Hacker could hear the strain in his voice when he continued, 'They're very interested in keeping their jobs, homes, putting a decent meal on the dinner table, and being able to put their kids through college. Some only give a shit about the Phillies next win; or where they can score the cheapest dope, and who is gonna win American fucking Idol!' Their was a collective flinch from the room. But now the President calmly continued his slow circumnavigation of the table and silent men and one woman who sipped water from her frosted glass. 'You have to remember, Assistant Director Hacker, the FBI asked me to intervene - to sanction the breaking of laws this country supposedly holds dear but turns a blind eye to when those laws are broken to keep them safe. Now you seem angry at me for doing that, you can't have it both ways. Once the genie is out of the bottle, I assure you, it's fucking nightmare to put it back in - but I've put it back in now.'
'We put the genie back in the bottle - Sir,' Hacker corrected, treading a very fine line with the tetchy President. Luggia kicked his shin under the table, agitatedly fingering his empty glass, hoping to stem the flow of his side-swipes at the President.
The President halted again at Hacker's shoulder, then lent down to say in his ear, 'Actually, you're wrong - who do you think gave the order for Apri-cot to step down outside that tunnel - to not kill you to get Pelant? I could've easily sanctioned that order - others have before me in similar situations. But I chose to keep you and your friends - safe. I handed you the victory - such as it was...' Hacker swallowed, humbled. The President stood upright again, patting firmly on Hacker's shoulder. 'Anyway, it's all over now, thankfully.'
'One more question, if I may, seeing as we're being so candid, Mister President…' He turned, and nodded slightly for him to ask it. 'Was it you that sanctioned the assassination of Nikolay?'
'No - his Government requested it if the opportunity arose - I only obliged that request in the interests of détente.'
'I see. So their shame and the secret can be kept while the people stayed ignorant of what had happened and what could have happened here?' The President tipped his head slightly to almost agree, expressionless.
He walked back into the shadows with, 'Good afternoon, Assistant Directors…'
Ethan Sawyer's Grave
When Bones stepped out of her Prius she could already see someone standing beside Ethan's small grave, and recognised them. She walked between the headstones slowly, and over the trimmed sunlight grass, and came to the woman's side in silence. A fresh posy of freesias she'd brought lay on his plaque, and she had her eyes closed in memory. Bones noted her ivory blouse was pretty but inside out, and her frumpy skirt was zipped up but not turned on her hips. She wore black Crocs and a lipstick colour that would suit a seventeen year old not a fifty-something. Bones thought she looked weird, dishevelled and in confused grief. Saying nothing Bones placed her posy alongside hers, then stood quiet and thoughtful. The woman opened her eyes, and looked to her left, unusually still. Bones turned her head too, and they shared an affectionate smile. 'Thank you,' Bones said after a respectful few moments.
Professor Liskov looked back to Ethan's grave, and asked, 'For what?'
'For stalling them - for not telling them that you deciphered Ethan's code, knowing they would try to stop Angela from wiping out Pelant's worm.'
Liskov replied dead flat, as if she didn't have a clue what she was talking about, 'I didn't do anything, Doctor Brennan.'
'Precisely, Professor Liskov - that's why I say, thank you.'
Liskov looked into Bones' eyes, then looked around them suspiciously. 'Miss Montenegro -,' she began secretively, 'is a remarkable talent.' Bones nodded to confirm the obvious. 'I'd very much like to meet her one day.'
'I'm sure that can be arranged.'
'Good. But until then, could you tell her to watch her back. I would be most distressed if she were to disappear before that time.'
Bones crinkled her brow as her mind calculated and digested her cryptic comment. 'You're implying she's…' Bones trailed off when Liskov raised an unkempt brow. 'That's why you didn't help me when I came to you about Ethan, wasn't it? You were being watched by them…'
Liskov looked around again, 'We still are, Doctor Brennan - even more so now. Minds like ours; Ethan, Pelant, Angela, me, we're all very interesting people apparently…' Bones looked down to Ethan's grave and the pretty flowers they'd laid to cheer the granite slab. She felt Professor Liskov walk away but didn't let her eyes follow her. But on hearing a loud thump and groan Bones snapped her eyes in her direction. Covering her mouth with her palm in an attempt to stop laughing, Bones trotted over to Liskov. She appeared to have tripped on a small plaque headstone and was flailing on the grass like a beached whale with her legs asunder. Bones squinted one eye, trying not to look when she saw that in her haste to dress this morning, the quirky Professor had forgotten the importance of underwear when wearing a skirt.
Helping her up, Bones asked, between biting her lip, 'Oh! Professor, are you ok?'
'Bloody headstones -,' she muttered indignantly, 'damn stupid place to leave one - I could have been killed!'
Unable to control it any longer, Bones started to laugh. 'Haa. This is a graveyard - you expect to find them here.' Liskov brushed herself down, glaring at Bones, who covered her teeth with her lips, trying not to laugh anymore.
Seeing her so amused softened Liskov, and brought back a memory which she shared, 'Ethan would've laughed himself inside out seeing me make a complete fool of myself like that.' Bones grinned hard, and nodded, handing over her purse and ridiculous straw boater.
'He did have a wonderful sense of humour - when he was compos mentis.'
'That he did,' Liskov confirmed affectionately, slipping a foot back in her Croc. Then she said, obviously feeling awkward and out of her social depth, 'I'm told it's appropriate to reminisce about the dead at times like these.' Bones nodded. 'Do you think it appropriate that we should reminisce about our mutual friend together, say, over coffee?'
Charmed, Bones smiled, looped her arm with the bizarre woman, and led her away, saying, 'I think that's wholly appropriate, Professor Liskov…'
Booth & Bones' Residence
Pulling up on the drive, and locking the car, Bones could already hear Parker, Booth and Christine in the back garden screaming and hollering their fun. It brought a huge smile to her face, and she hurriedly opened the door to join them.
Throwing her purse down on the kitchen island, she stripped off her jacket, and trotted out into the garden past Parker's case, and remembered he was being picked up later by Rebecca.
When she stepped out into the garden, she beamed at the sight. Christine was strapped into a swing that was suspended under a bough where the tree house was built through, and laughing uncontrollably as Parker and Booth played a manic game of tag around the sturdy trunk and her. A picnic lunch was already set up in the shade of the broad tree and waiting for her to join them: that really touched her.
Spotting her, Christine called out to her causing Booth to come to a panting standstill, and look over. 'Oh! Hey, Bones, how did it go?' Parker raced straight into the immovable object of Booth, and flattened in a heap on the grass with a stunned groan. 'Oh. Shoooot, you alright, Son?' Booth picked him up, checking him out. Laughing at their comedic caper, Bones came over to check Parker out too.
'Daaad, you're waay too hard,' Parker said, brushing himself down. Bones saw the potential for a double entendre about this morning but didn't let it lose on seeing Booth glare at her. So she just grinned, waggling her brows not so innocently.
'Follow my finger,' Bones insisted seriously. Parker knocked it way playfully with a snigger for her overprotection.
'I'm fine, Bones. Lunch is ready. You were ages and I'm starving!' He plonked himself down on the chequered rug, and began to tuck in. Booth hugged her close, and rolled her tight in his arms, staring into her eyes, waiting for her answer to Parker's question.
Bones rubbed her hands up and down his back, with a sensuous smile, sensing Booth was frisky again. He smelt fresh but was a little moist from all their running about and had a compulsion to lick him, but didn't. She kissed his lips instead. Christine called her again, so she let go of her man, and picked Christine out of the swing, telling them, 'It went fine. I met Professor Liskov there and we went for coffee - it was nice.' Bones made a loving fuss of Christine as they all sat on the rug, and tucked in.
'Dad and me took Christine shopping and brought her that swing and fixed it up - do-ya-like it?' he asked, already knowing what she was going to say but was excited by the fun they'd had securing it.
'Its wonderful, Parker!' Bones gushed, getting a boy-sized appendage as Parker cuddled up to her. 'Christine's obviously in enamoured with it.'
Then Booth said softly, and proudly, 'Parker insisted he pay for it out of his vacation money.' Bones gasped, shocked he'd offered and secondly for Booth allowing him to purchase it.
Parker blushed, and moaned, 'Daaaad, you said you wouldn't tell?'
'Yeah, well, Bones and me don't have any secrets - I tell her everything,' he defended, staring into her eyes with a reflective smile.
'Parker, that is so generous but we can't let you pay for it - that…' she trailed off when Parker shook his head violently: his wild hair tossed like ripened corn.
'It's done, Bones,' he said sternly. 'I haven't spent a dime of my money and I've had a unbelievable vacation with you - I just wanted to say thanks for my room, and treat my little Sis.' Bones looked to Booth who shrugged a shoulder, so Bones kissed his head through his hair, and graciously accepted his gift.
'A sincere thank you from Christine and us then.' Booth grinned, giving her a sexy wink.
'You're welcome,' he said casually, flopping flat to the rug, and staring up through the leaves of the tress while chewing on his pita wrap.
Booth changed the subject: obviously in a playful mood, 'Hey, what do elephants and swings have in com..?' Booth trailed off when they heard the door bell sound and so did their smiles. Parker sat up, although he was deflating inside. Booth said softly, 'There's ya Mom.' Parker looked at Christine and Bones, and sighed.
'Yeah, I better go then.' Booth nodded with a bolstering smile for him, knowing he didn't want to go nor get back to school.
'No, you wait here, and eat your lunch - I'll go,' Bones said, getting up, and taking Christine with her.
Twenty Minutes Later
Parker gave Christine a sweet peck on the cheek as she scrunched his hair in her fingers, and tugged him closer, doing her wet kiss routine on him. Parker giggled getting a sloppy wet cheek for his trouble, and wiped it dry. 'Bye, Sis. Stay cute.' Kissing Bones, and giving her a hug he looked up into her eyes, and smiled, saying softly, 'I'm so glad things worked out.' She caressed his jaw, and placed a tender kiss on his brow.
'Thank you for everything, Parker. We'll see you very soon, ok?' Parker felt a lump fill his throat but swallowed hard to dislodge it. Booth walked him to the car, with Rebecca already waiting, and drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. Parker waved again, then got in the car, and buckled up. Booth watched them drive off, and turned with a smile, but he lost it seeing Bones look very broken suddenly. He strode back fast, asking before he got to them. 'What, what is it?'
Taking a breath for courage, Bones relayed the message as gently as she could, 'Rebecca told me she's moving to England with her job - for three years - maybe longer. She insisted I tell you after they left…' Booth snapped his eyes back down the empty street. Bones knew what his question was without hearing it, stepped closer to take his hand, and answered it, 'Apparently yes, Parker knew. He's known all summer, Booth…'
Booth felt his eyes burn. 'He never said… Oh. Bones, why didn't he say anything?' Booth questioned incredulously, feeling the bottom drop out of his heart.
Rubbing his back, Bones said tenderly, 'You had enough to deal with, Booth. I expect he didn't want to burden you any more...'
Two Days Later
Highway 163 - Heading South
Navajo Nation Reservation
The seminal grandiose vista that most on the planet would recognise as the Big Country, loomed spectacularly large ahead: cut through by a straight tarmac road ridden by nine black-clad Hells Angels. The weathered red sandstone buttes of Monument Valley rose from the desert floor, blistered by a demon sun where clouds were terrified away: and were clawed by a blue sky so wide and high its end unimaginable. Like birds heading south for the winter, in a migrating formation, the Chapter of Harley's took up both sides of the highway in a respectful procession. En route they'd been joined by other Chapters to swell their numbers as the word had spread a brother had died. No other vehicles over took, all the rest pulled over to give them room and due respect. This was his last requested ride; to his resting place and to the land of his childhood home; taken by the friends that knew him best, and as Chester Zah, AKA, Daniel/Wormwood.
At the head of the procession of black and sparkling chrome, one rider had the honour of carrying Chester's ashes. In a maple box wrapped in the Stars and Stripes Chester's remains took pride of place on the handlebars. Once a Marine that served in Vietnam, Chester had been proudly American and born an even prouder Navajo: raised on the reservation they were heading towards.
Turning off the highway the procession headed to Window Rock known by the Native Americans as Tseghahoodzani. The tarmac petered out for a sightseeing, rough track that arched around the majestic natural monuments; billowing a storm of dust in their wakes. On reaching the base of Window Rock the bikes spread out in a line: an honour guard, and finally turned off their thundering engines at the end of their long journey. Five Navajo and one woman in traditional clothing were waiting for their arrival. The friend with the honour got off his bike, detached Chester's ashes, and took from his pocket a large a flat box; Chester's most treasured possession.
Placing the smaller box on top of his ashes, the solemn Angel handed over both to Chester's last surviving, tearful sister. She gave him a slow, deep nod, then opened the small box. She smiled through her tears. It was her father's Gold Congressional Medal that Chester had posthumously been awarded by the President in 2001 in recognition of his father. Dine Zah, had been one of the original 29 Navajo Code Talkers enlisted to the Marines in WWII and his stories had inspired his son to follow in his hallowed footsteps.
Hovering to the side of the honour guard with tears threatening to fall behind his dark shades, Max and Maria watched as Chester's sister walked up the small track towards the window in the rock and to the sky. Flanked by her family, she sprinkled Chester's ashes: giving him back to the earth.
Max had a flashback to when they first met in a seedy bar while he was on the run not long after Christine had been killed. Drowning his sorrows and grief in a bottle of scotch, he'd picked a fight hoping to be permanently numbed by Chester's Chapter who where hanging out. Chester saw his obvious pain, and refused to engage with him but Max remembered how insistent he was about his death wish. Chester had finally flattened him for his own good with a brain-rattling right hook, that sent him crashing over a pool table. Then he picked him up by the scruff and dragged him outside. It was then that Max, in his drunken stupor, asked him before he died:
(('What's with the Route 81 patch? You've all got'em. Waz it mean?'
Chester stalled, looked at the patch on his leather jacket, then gave him a smile. Most made assumptions about Hells Angels: their hard reputations, aggressive and frightening looks, and the air of lawlessness that went with them all made them social pariahs. But it was rare that anyone stopped to ask or look through to the person underneath the intimidating façade, so Chester kindly enlightened him, 'Eight and one are the numbers that represent H and A in the alphabet; Hells Angels. All our brothers wear 'em.'
Believing his end was finally coming, but not sure if he truly wanted it, Max slurred, 'Oh… Are ya gonna kill me now?'
Chester dragged him to his stolen car, and flung him inside to cool off and sober up. 'The 81's have a motto -,' Chester replied, "when we do right, nobody remembers, when we do wrong, nobody forgets"…'
Sprawled out in the back of his car, Max blinked almost to sober, and focused on Chester's compassionate eyes, confirming he'd never forget his lifesaving deed, 'I'll remember…' Then they shared a smile and that was the start of their long friendship.))
Max snapped out of his memory when the bikes roared again, and rode away. He softly pecked Maria's cheek. When all was quiet, and sand settled, Max walked up the same path Chester's family had taken alone, and looked around the endless gorgeous view. He took off his cap and glasses, confirming again to his old friend, 'I'll remember…'
With a gaggle of impressed and intrigued work colleagues gathered around her, Daisy began demonstrating her new prosthetic arm and its remarkable dexterity. She couldn't help but feel flattered by all the attention she was receiving: the sympathy and good will they generously swamped her with.
With her usual exuberance she explained, drawing attention to the likeness to her real arm, 'You can observe, implanted in the skin, tiny real human hairs -,' they all nodded and cooed, stroking her forearm, 'The flesh tone was matched to my own and it can even be darkened by cosmetics to simulate a tan - so it won't look odd when I get one. But I don't intend to go on vacation anytime soon. I just want to get back to work as soon as possible. Doctor's Brennan and Saroyan say my skills are invaluable here, so I don't want to let them down…' Most agreed wholesomely but Clarke rolled his eyes, hearing her waffle on self-importantly.
'It's taken me sometime and much practise to master it. I just have to think what I'd like it to do - the brain connects with the chip, here, and relays the message to the relevant mechanics. I shall demonstrate.' Clarke curiously edged a little closer behind the gaggle to watch what she was going to do. 'Please note - I think about picking up the pen off the flat surface, place the hand over it, aaand pinch.' They all clapped when she picked it up, even Clarke cocked a brow, seeing how nimble the digits were. 'Now I shall try something very difficult - typing.' She went over to a computer, and sat down. 'As you can imagine, typing efficiently is a skill learnt over time with perfect synchronicity between fingers and brain so please forgive if I'm slow and make a few mistakes at first.' The gaggle of white coats that huddled, peered over her shoulders, offering her pats of encouragement. One of her colleagues, eager to get a good view, accidentally turned on the high-tech machine next to the computer but nobody noticed. Daisy began to type: the quick brown vulpe jumped over the lazy canine, with rapid faultless aplomb to a round of gasps and spontaneous applause. Emboldened Daisy encouraged, 'Now, just to prove that wasn't a fluke give me something else to type.'
Clarke piped up from behind them all, with hands in his lab coat pockets, 'Supercallafradgalisticexpial lydocious.'
Daisy smiled arrogantly, and began typing exuberantly but as the machine immediately to her right warmed up, the magnetic pull of its spinning magnets snapped her arm out cracking into someone's face. 'OOH!' The unfortunate receiver of the stunning blow was sent crashing to the floor, clutching their broken nose. While Daisy struggled to pull her arm off the machine, fighting with it, she yelled, 'Turn it off! Turn it off!' There was pandemonium on the platform which left Clarke laughing his head off as he ambled back to his office…
It was a grey cold afternoon befitting a sombre funeral. A blustery wind from the east howled bringing with it a chilling downpour that flattened the meadow. Huddled under an umbrella, Genny glanced to Thierry beside her then to Helga stood beside him, who was mopping tears from her cheeks. They had just handed over Nikolay's ashes to his Sister and Mother who were scattering them over the lush meadow that was once their family's small holding. But the meadow looked tired and unloved now but once had held good memories and rippled with the haunting echoes of carefree laughter. The heavy weeping skies matched their heavy moods.
'This is crazy, I can't believe I'm crying. I only knew him for twenty hours…' Helga remarked, sniffing, and trying to staunch her tears. Thierry, Genny noticed, slipped his arm around her shoulder sensitively.
'How long you were together is irrelevant, Helga, only what you had in that time matters. It can take an instant to fall in love or a lifetime.' Thierry said thoughtfully with his eyes fixed on the grieving family. Genny thought that was a lovely thing to say and relevant, and not just for Helga. She looked back to Nikolay's family as they came over, holding each other and an umbrella over their heads to ward off the pounding rain.
'We're so sorry,' Genny said again, sympathetically touching the forearm of his Mother. The old lady patted it, and smiled, unable to speak English but understood what Genny had offered.
Her daughter could speak English though, and said, 'No, we are sorry. It is so evil and terrible what he has done. All because Nikolay refused to accept the truth.'
'That my father went to help at Chernobyl because he wanted to, not because he was ordered. He knew the risks all along and never wanted compensation because he believed he was helping his countrymen. He wanted to save lives and homes. He was awarded a medal by the government which was recognition enough for him - but not for Nikolay.'
Genny could sense their grief mingled with shame and thought that too sad and unfair to Nikolay. So she glanced to Thierry, then offered kindly, 'He may have been misguided but he tried to put right what he'd done wrong. If it wasn't for Nikolay we wouldn't have caught this man in time and saved many lives. Please remember that when you think of him…'
'That's my last call. I better go,' Genny said, standing, and pulling up the handle on her carryon case, feeling awkward and desperately sad. Thierry stood too just as confused, and looking it. He walked with her to the gate. 'I hope you're not delayed too long.'
'No-no, its crazy. Your flight is across the Atlantic mine a third of the distance and…' he trailed off, feeling an idiot for babbling on about something so inane when he had so much to say to her. But he couldn't get the words straight or out of his mouth.
Genny nodded, understanding what he meant about the flights anyway, and laughed a little too falsely. She regrouped quickly. 'Well -,' Genny handed her boarding card over to the hostess, then offered her hand and a smile to Thierry, 'Goodbye, Thierry.' Thierry slipped his hand in hers, nodding, then looked up into her eyes as he kissed the back of it. Genny had a hell of a job from not bursting into tears and sobbing her misery on his shoulder.
Thierry stuttered, 'I… I…' Genny smiled wider, and stroked his jaw with her free palm understandingly. He closed his eyes, and treasured the sensation of her delicate touch one last time.
'It wouldn't, couldn't work,' she braved, vocalizing what they were both thinking and knew; it would only be prolonging the inevitable.
He added to the list, 'We have our careers and children.' Opening his watery eyes, he looked up into hers again.
Seeing his deep sadness: mirroring her, she whispered sweetly, 'Oh. Please don't make this harder for either of us, Thierry. We had a mad, incredible two weeks together that I'll never forget…' She wrapped her arms around his neck on tip toes, and felt him squeeze her with such tenderness her tears betrayed her.
Thierry whispered lovingly into her ear, 'Au revoir, Genny, a la FBI…'
Before she dissolved, and with just enough courage for both of them she kissed his cheek hard, then released him. Grabbing her boarding card, she walked through the gate without looking back; proverbially ripping off the Band-Aid.
Thierry watched her walk away quickly, with his hands on his hips, twitching on the spot. Feeling lost, dazed and heart already aching, he wiped his cheeks once he couldn't see her anymore, then retook his seat to wait for his call back to Lyon and his life…
Ange & Jack's Bunker
Jack poked his head around her studio door, and dropped a hip with a smile. 'Hey, come on, Ange, we're gonna miss the flight.' She batted him down, then closer with a smile. He came in, and cuddled her from behind.
'I'm almost done. I'm just shredding the last of it.' He nodded, kissing her throat. 'How are the contacts?'
'Fine - I'm getting used to them now.' Ange nodded still with her eyes fixed on the screen of her Angelator and tablet in hand. 'I've shut down everything - ready for the next time…'
Ange huffed, and playfully nudged him in the stomach. 'Oh - you're soo funny,' she snubbed. Jack sniggered. 'No pressies for you now,' she teased, flicking a wry smile his way.
Jack stopped laughing promptly. 'Gimmy-gimmy,' he urged, panting like a wet-nosed retriever. Ange turned in his embrace, and smooched his lips.
'When's ya birthday?' she asked with an air of mystery.
'Next June - no, today!' Ange sniggered now, kissing his excited smile again.
'Ok. This is my early birthday gift to you. Read this fast - before I shred it.' His hungry eyes stared at the screen. Then she tapped her tablet and up popped a decrypted file.
She watched as his eyes and mouth widened, and he pointed at the screen, wagging his finger, unable to vocalise anything in his shock for a moment, then blurted, 'I knew it! Didn't I tell ya?!' She started to laugh, and kiss him, but he strained to read over her until she gave him a little tongue and he lost interest in the file. He gorged himself on her, while she blindly tapped another key to finally shred it out of existence. The letters and headers disintegrated behind them, then the screen went blank with a pop as it shut down.
On the surface Jack locked down the bunker, and closed the old barn doors, with some relief. 'Come on, we're better run,' Jack urged, taking her hand, and tugging.
'I haven't run since 1992 - I'm not running now,' Ange informed aloofly regal. Jack rolled his eyes, still tugging her along. 'I'll walk briskly that's as much as I'm willing to do.' Jack swooped her up into his arms, and began trotting back to the Mini with her. They giggled all the way there.
Thirty Six Hours Later
The rest of the beach bar patrons surreptitiously looked on at the riotous girly fun happening at the far end of the open bar, gossiping and sniggering at their antics. A traditional band were backing the laughter, drinking and the hypnotic sound of the warm ocean tumbling onto the shore.
'You have to drink it in one go, Sweetie - itza tradition!' Ange ordered, beaming at Bones, giving her shoulder a playful shove. Bones looked at the sixth coconut shell filled with a cocktail, this one dubiously called a Screaming Orgasm, and took a deep breath. She seriously doubted she'd feel anything after five of these cocktails let alone scream, but knew she couldn't get out of it. Maria, Caroline, Cam, Michele and Genny nodded their encouragement with hopeful smiles as wide as the sunset filling the space above the ocean behind them. Bones shook her head, flung the crazy straw over her shoulder, and began to gulp it down to their cheers, whoops and laughter. The liquid dribbled down her cheeks and neck into her lei, not realising Ange was already ordering another round of cocktails: the next on the extensive beach bar list. After downing it, she threw the husk over her shoulder onto the sand with a smack of her lips to clatter into the rest littering the sand. Then Bones promptly, and almost proudly, burped so loud Caroline nearly fell off her barstool with the violent gush of air. That sent everybody into hysterics, even Bones.
'Slippery Nipples - Slippery Nipples!' Ange shouted over the raucous din, as the bartender lined them up in front of the inebriated woman in grass skirts, bikini tops and barefoot.
Bleary eyed, Bones wiped her neck, and looked to her breasts in the cups, saying, 'Yes they are…' very studiously.
'HAAA! No - that's what these are called!' Cam pushed one towards her on the counter. Bones oh'ed, and picked it up, sniffed it cautiously, then that disappeared down her gullet too.
Maria belly laughed silently which seemed a curiosity, and sent them into more fits. Ange put the cocktail in her hand, and kissed her cheek, as she half apologised, 'We're not normally like this - not really.' Almost slaughtered, Maria grabbed the drink, and downed it without spilling a drop.
Swallowing her Nipple, and chucking the empty over her shoulder with the rest, Genny, whooped, 'Yeh!' and applauded Maria, saying excitedly, 'Sex On The Beach now!'
Bones looked over to the beach. 'Oh, no I don't fink we ssshould -,' Bones slurred, with a crinkled brow, 'it's very ex-pOsed out there,' she warned in all seriousness, including a burp, gesturing to the beach with so many potential voyeurs walking close to the rolling surf.
Maria started to silently belly laugh again causing Ange to peer into her gaping mouth, then turn her head to listen for any sound. 'Nope, I got nothin'. I fort I'd gone deaf! Haa!' Cam and Genny fell over each other sniggering, wiping tears away, while Caroline slipped off her stool suddenly, shocking everyone almost into silence. She had another problem; a weak bladder and the chronic laughter wasn't helping her control.
'Where ya going - I wanna come?' Bones stood too, looping her arm with her, with an excited smile.
'I'm gonna pee all over this grass skirt if you don't let me go! I can't hold-it - I can't!' Caroline swaggered in the direction of the restrooms, holding her crotch. Grimacing, Bones backed off immediately with her palms out. 'GET-OUTTA-WAY!' They saw and heard Caroline fling a much smaller patron aside and out of her way en route, more bellowed laughter ensued.
Hearing the Hen party in full swing up the beach the men; Booth, Max, Jack, Flynn and Sweets all glanced to one another, then started chuckling and shaking their heads incredulously at the unholy racket they were making.
Sitting in a circle around a small fire with a few beers, and toasting marshmallows over it, their party was much more salubrious and understated. Probably because they had Michael and Christine with them, who were fast asleep in their strollers. Last but not least, Parker swelled their relaxed ranks under the glittering stars. He looked absolutely thrilled to have been invited to join the men in the age-old tradition of the Stag Night. Although he secretly wanted to join the ladies, as they sounded as if they were having much more fun. But he wasn't going to complain; he couldn't believe his luck when his Dad had told him he'd arranged and been given permission to take him on vacation with Bones, Christine and the rest. It had been a crazy 24 hours for him. He'd been taken out of school for a week, flown, as previously promised, to Hawaii to jet-set just like Christine had. And not only that, he'd been asked to be a Best Man; an honour he was taking very seriously. He didn't even bat an eyelid when he was told he had to go bare-chested and wear a long skirt and flowers for the evening like the rest.
Sipping his light beer: a one-off treat, Parker asked, 'Are we having strippers later?' There was a snap of silence, then the men started to laugh and shake their heads.
'N'aaah,' Booth droned, nudging Parker in the ribs playfully as he sulked. 'We're being responsible - someone's gotta be,' he explained wryly, gesturing to the sleeping tots. 'We'll get our chance to let our hair down tomorrow at the luau.'
'Booooring,' Parker retorted but unable to shift his elated smile for just being able to stay up and hang out with the men. Everyone sniggered again, then resumed instructing Parker on the steep learning curve he was to experience through adolescence when it came to women. 'Let me get this straight - when a girls asks do I look ok, even if she doesn't, I should say she looks amazing and lie?'
'Yep - if you wanna see your next birthday - always,' Sweets clarified, accompanied by deadly serious slow nods from the others.
'Check,' Parker said, ticking off that on his mental list of do's and don't's. Just then there was another ripple of cackles that drifted towards them on the sultry salty breeze, and they looked towards the prettily lit bar. Another pile of empty coconut shells landed on the sand outside the bar. Parker smirked. 'Maybe, we should go spy on them?' A chorus of shocked and outraged looks of disapproval were sent back to Parker for his sneaky plan.
'No! It's bad luck and totally against the age-old tradition to see the bride before the wedding -,' Max snapped, then warned, 'besides we don't wanna know what they're getting up to. It'll make our hair frizz.' Jack and Flynn snorted at his hairless quip.
'Don't we?' Parker asked with a curl of his top lip, but really wanting to sneak a peek, not caring about his hair as it was curly already and Max didn't have any. All the men backed Max up with powerful nods to confirm, studiously reloading their toasting forks with marshmallows.
'Come on, Park, let's get some more beers,' Booth encouraged, seeing him look a little disgruntled and taking pity. Parker followed his Dad back to the beach hut where the men were all staying in tonight. As they got onto the veranda Booth sat on the swing, and patted the space beside him: inviting Parker to sit with him.
Parker caught his expression, and asked, 'What's up, Dad - you look really worried about something - you should be major happy?'
'I am, really happy. And proud. And touched.' Parker didn't know what he meant by that, and queried him with a confused look. Booth rubbed his palms together, then leant forwards over his knees, looking at his sandy feet. Parker mirrored his thoughtful position but looked into his Dad's profile, waiting for an explanation. 'I know your Mom is moving to England with her job…' Parker sagged, and looked down to his toes now, feeling a lump rise in his throat. 'I also know - that you've known about it for months but didn't want to tell me cos you didn't wanna worry me.' Parker nodded a little as they gently swayed on the creaky swing seat.
Parker got it now, all of it. 'That's why Mom let me come to Hawaii and let me get out of school - so I could spend time with you all before we go, isn't it?'
Booth looked into Parker's profile now. 'Something like that. I've gotta ask you something, Parker, but you have to be honest when you answer, really honest.' Parker looked at him, and nodded. Booth asked his burning question, fearing his answer, 'Do you want to go to England for three years?'
Parker sighed out, looked up to the stars for an agonising few moments for Booth. 'I'd be in a great school, Dad, and it is a cool place to live, London.' Booth nodded to agree. 'Mom says we can go on trips to Europe in the holidays cos it'll be really easy and stuff.' Again Booth nodded, with a half-hearted smile. 'I can call you whenever I want - there's Skype and that too. And in the summer vacation I can stay with you for more than a couple of weeks…'
'Yeah, yeah, sure. No - it's a great opportunity for you,' Booth gushed, but felt utterly crushed, hearing him sound so positive about the move. 'Seeing all those great places - you'd learn a lot.' Booth patted his back, then with a bigger smile, said, 'That's settled then.' Booth stood to get the beers, but Parker grabbed his hand. Booth looked down into his wet eyes with his heart unravelling.
'But honestly, Dad… I don't wanna go - but I don't have a choice.'
Containing his excitement admirably Booth sat down again, taking his hand. 'There's always a choice, Parker. But if you could stay with Bones, Chrissy and me, would you want to?'
Parker said with gusto, but lacing it with a sadness which tore at Booth's soul, 'Yes - but Mom would never let me stay.'
'No,' Booth confirmed softly, feeling Parker's heartbeat in his palm. 'I asked her if you could stay and she said no.' Parker nodded, looking back to his feet, and swallowing hard. 'But then Bones went and saw her with Christine. She took your mobile to show her how much you loved us and wanted us to be a family. Your Mom is willing to sacrifice those three years with you, Parker - if you truly want to stay with us…'
Caroline had an inebriated bunch of wonky looking ladies leaning into her to hear her whisper the raunchy punch-line, '… so the lady puffin replied, if that starts spittin' I'm putting on a sou'wester….'
Bones was the only one that didn't laugh till her sides hurt, and muttered, 'I dunno know what dat means.' Then jumping up from her stool, Bones exclaimed, looking very concerned, 'Oh! My left but-tock has gone inta-spasm, I fink it's the onset of delirium tremes!' She very nearly, but not quite, spilt her Slow Screw Against A Wall. Maria instantly grabbed her buttock, and squeezed. 'Arh! Mariaaaa?' Ange's eyebrows shot to the palm-thatched ceiling while Cam joined in the intimate massage, drunkenly fondling under Bones' grass skirt too. Bones turned on the spot, trying to bat away the twin assaulters.
Highly amused, Cam insisted, 'Its your cell, Tempe!'
Bones froze, while her horrified expression dropped away. 'Oh. Of course. For a moment there I thought…' she trailed off when Maria handed her the vibrating cell from her panties, laughing. Bleary eyed and mildly embarrassed, Bones read the text as everyone held their breaths. With eyes filling, Bones looked into each of them, and informed softly, 'Parker's decided to stay…' There was a stillness from them all until Bones smiled with a blinding strength, then they all erupted into cheers and smothered her with warm congratulatory hugs.
Flushed with unbridled joy, Bones ordered the next round and cocktail on the list, 'Barkeep?! Seven large Throbbing Clits, Please!'
Laughing, the barkeep retorted, 'Coming right up…!'
Strolling Back Along Beach To The Ladies Hut
Booth secretly watched from behind a rustling palm, seven very drunk women meander, giggle, and splash about in the surf together. He couldn't help but smile, seeing them fooling around and having the time of their lives. With the heavy yoke of pain and sorrow tossed aside, he thought they looked like weightless water nymphs as they danced barefoot, splashed and rejoiced at being liberated. But it was Bones he couldn't take his eyes off; her carefree smile strengthened his, her swaying hips and rustling skirt inspired him to moan seductively. She looked as light as air: as pretty at the stars above her head, and danced with her arms out-stretched and head tipped back; as if embracing the night and all its sensory pleasures found in the sky; sea, sand and emotion.
He stepped back into the shadows when they finally came back up the beach: heading for bed. They narrowed into single file on the wooden path between the thick palms that backed the beach, and passed him still oozing laughter and naughty gossip no man should overhear.
Ambling Bones was last in the procession, he saw his opportunity, and couldn't contain himself; he just had to talk to her. He snapped his hand over her mouth, and dragged her off the path into the shadows. He was amazed that she grabbed his hand off her mouth, and flipped him over her shoulder in a perfect ippon despite how drunk she was. 'Bones,' he whispered, getting back up, 'its me…'
She gasped, dropping her southpaw stance immediately. 'What are ya do-wing? - Tradition dictates a separation of males and females before the nuptials - its bad luck.' He pulled her with him deeper into the whispering palms, and away from the beach hut and prying eyes.
'I don't care - I just had to see you.' Turning to sticky mush, Bones kissed him, with a cupid-shot smile, still gripping his hand. They listened for a moment, checking they weren't going to be discovered, then set about each other. By the way she was touching, eyeing and kissing him he knew she didn't care about the breaking of the tradition nor being abducted. 'Did you get my message?' She nodded, still smattering his face with urgent lips, blinking to clear her misty eyes. 'He's staying, Bones,' he purred emotionally, with his own jubilant smile.
'Yes. We're a family,' she sighed with such deep emotion it settled in the middle of his chest crushing the air from his lungs. 'I can't imagine being happier than I am right now, not just for me but for you too.'
Her admission touched him beyond measure. 'Oh. Bones.' He nuzzled into her throat, buttering her with sweet kisses, caressing the line of her spine. Booth knew why now she looked like she was floating earlier and opening herself out to everything; that mesmerising display had been sheer elation. 'Me neither - the last time I felt this happy was when we brought Christine into the world.'
Grinning wider, Bones reminded sweetly as she caressed his smile with a thumb, 'Or when we created her - remember?'
Booth rolled his brow against hers, caressing her enticing curves with eyes like his fingertips, catching the intoxicating fragrance of the lei in her hair and garland around her neck. He recalled dreamily, 'Umm. We got lost inside of each other - as close as anyone can get to…'
He trailed off when she requested softly, guiding his hand under her skirt, 'Make us like that memory now,' with iridescent eyes that burned with love for him. 'I want everything we can be - again.' He groaned, feeling his fingers get coated by her already drenched pleats. With her own urgency she removed her panties: temporarily interrupting his intimate caress.
Knowing exactly what she needed, Booth knelt, kissing down her smooth belly, pawing her urgently; their libidos in overdrive. When he sat down on the rough ground; crispy dried palms and sand, he split his loud sarong open, giving her a soft perch of his lap. Bones stepped closer, very close, looking down at him stroking himself; thanking the indigenous Polynesians for their scanty dress code. Her breath hitched with the erotic sizzle that his image caused in her body. She suspected she could grate Parmesan on his defined abs and was soon to gain a pound of heated flesh she deem hers indefinitely. She unknowingly licked her lips seductively, he noted, as if she was already tasting his lightly seasoned flesh on her tongue.
Splitting her skirt, she purred wantonly when he lurched forwards, and lapped at her dewy pussy; just as hungry for her too. Her hands snapped around his head, and pushed him off instantly. Shocked, he looked up, but saw she didn't want or require foreplay she just wanted him and didn't restrain herself. Her mouth was on his as she sat down with a humph, spearing herself through, then slammed her pelvis forward. Her earthy grunt cum wail filled his mouth. Booth could feel the soft hot tip of her cervix butt his notch and knew he was not just planted but firmly rooted; wired into her. Wired into every flaw; strength, thought, memory, emotion and sensation she had. Breaking mouth contact Bones' lips parted, and blazing eyes shot to his with a yearning accusation dripping from her lips, 'Oh. Booth, you never warned me.'
'What about, my beautiful, Temperance,' he asked intense, trembling with the divine shivers running down his spine and up into her that he could feel through his fingertips.
She breathily whispered to him, 'That I could - would experience you this way.' Booth saw her irises pearlize and her chin quiver, and squeezed her flush so they could feel their heartbeats twin. It was as plain as the euphoric tear in her eye and revelatory loving smile on her lips she was wired into him too. 'In essence - its spiritual…' Booth smiled, conveying how moved he was that she admitted to that aloud. Tilting her head, and matching his smile, she then held him preciously. They began to move to their learnt nurturing rhythm: and beat by quickening beat they neared corporeal paradise.
Watching and feeling the wondrous pleasure grow in the other hastened them, urging them on higher and faster for the other. In the absence of anymore drama, emotional pain or fear: with only starlight and love in their eyes, a hellacious ecstasy built between them; uncontrollable and addictive. In their burning crucible she thought she'd never see anything so beautiful as when his eyes latched onto hers, and willed her to soar with him. Bucking wildly on his lap, squeezing the essence out of him, Booth's mantra began as he came, 'Luv-ya-luv-ya,' blistering her insides. She muffled it and her own stinging climatic gasps by kissing him, and snatching that love off his tongue, swallowing it down. The sultry night zephyr caught their remaining slow burning whimpers and final sighs.
Exhausted, Bones laid back with a sated groan, and roll of her head: still delirious. Booth palmed up her moist thighs over her ribs and heaving bosom to her face. She kissed both his palms alternatively, while staring back into his ember-filled eyes, then started to snigger. 'Haa'oh. Booth, I'm sooo wasted.'
'Haa. Yeah, but you held it together long enough.' Bones took his hands, and he pulled her up again. 'I better let ya go.' Bones nodded, but sighed again, and held him a little tighter, not wanting to leave him just yet. But on hearing manic shouts of:
"TEMPEEEE! OH-MY-GOD, she might be dead, drowned! How could you lose her?! TEMPE - OH, BREN! SWEETIE, SPEAK TO ME!" Ange wailed to the beach, stars and ocean.
Laughing softly, Bones swiftly uncoupled them, whispering, 'I love you, love you - see you tomorrow,' kissing his lips one last time. She grabbed her panties, stole another kisses, and trotted back through the whispering palms to the path. Staying out of sight, Booth followed a few metres behind, listening.
'I'm here, Ange!' Ange, Cam, Genny, Michele, Caroline and Maria all sagged with colossal relief on seeing her safe and unharmed. They looked like they'd sobered up very rapidly to Bones, fearing her untimely, accidental demise. Bones explained, about to lie, 'I was just looking…'
But Bones trailed off when Ange and Cam pointed at her, and exclaimed their outraged accusation, 'Oh. My, God - you've had SEX!' Booth sniggered, and ran for cover and sanctuary.
'No I… Err.' They peered at her fiercely: a warning for her not to challenge them: she didn't. 'How did…?' Bones half asked incredulously, amazed by their intuition.
Cam barked the unequivocal evidence, 'Panties in hand, crushed lei, bits of palm in your hair, slippery nipple popping out!' Gasping, Bones quickly popped her nipple away, and hid her panties behind her back. Still clutching a large iced Baileys, Cam scolded, 'Too late, we already saw,' then added, scurrilously, 'yoooou traitor!'
Bones' expression turned from stunned to a: I don't give a shit, I got laid - you didn't, smile which infected all of them.
'Details! We want luuuu-rid details right now!' Caroline insisted, ushering Bones back to the beach hut like a scary five-star General. 'Or I'll tell you all about the wild debauched rumpy-pumpy I had with David…' All the ladies gasped or gawped at her saucy revelation, forgetting all about Bones' treason. Caroline spun, her skirt flared as she did like a whirling Dervish, and waggled her brows. They all looked to one another, then rushed after Caroline, battering her with filthy questions.
'Wait! No-body move!' Jack hollered, with arms out stretched, looking down to the silver sand, and blinking rapidly. Everyone froze like statues. 'I've lost a contact!' They all looked at him as if he was an alien. 'Oh. It's ok, folks, its there, it just slipped…' Everybody sagged, then started to laugh, taking their seats. Smiling apologetically, Jack encouraged, 'Sorry, carry on. Go ahead…' Ange slapped his arm making him ouch, then snigger.
'Ready?' Bones looped her arm with Max, and kissed his cheek, then they walked slowly over the warm sand between the small congregation gathered on the beach for the brief and simple ceremony. All the Hen party goers wore white and very dark glasses and huge smiles, loaded with black coffee and hangover pills. The sober, lei-adorned men wore equally strong smiles, and stood as they reached the rolling indigo surf. Parker beamed at them, patting the ring in his pocket, standing proudly next to the minister. Max kissed Bones' cheek once again, then she turned away, and took her seat next to Booth with Christine sitting on the sand between his feet in a grass skirt and spade in hand.
Booth whispered in Bones' ear with a tinge of hope, while watching Max and Maria hold hands and stare lovingly into one another as the minister began the ceremony, 'That'll be us soon.'
With eyes fixed on Maria and Max, smiling strongly, coyly Bones' whispered back, 'Mmm. Quite possibly…'
Ange & Jack's Bunker
The Angelator flickered to life. Then appearing at the bottom right hand side of the massive screen a six digit code appeared and flashed for a few moments. Then the numbers dissolved and evolved into a cute pink pig animation with a stamp on its rump that read: Jasper. It trotted up and down the bottom of the screen, snuffling happily, looking for a way out and sustenance. Finding neither it stopped dead centre of the screen, then tortuously, grotesquely sprouted another head: a hungry wolfs, and howled into the darkness…
A/N: Phew…. *sagging* Finally its over - or is it? No! I'm not starting all that shit again. I'm well and truly done, you'll be glad to know, I'm sure. You wanted and deserved a bit of fluff to finish off so I hope you enjoyed it…?
I've been truly overwhelmed by the responses and the loyalties shown by you to this 'faction' piece. (A mixture of fiction and fact) And I feel compelled to thank those generous readers now. And not just those who dropped me a line during this marathon: those that I've noticed have followed the story. But first, indulge me, please, as I bring up a few truths in the plot that may, or not, interest you:
Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant Disaster: On 26 April 1986, at 01:23, reactor four suffered a catastrophic power increase, leading to explosions in its core. This dispersed large quantities of radioactive fuel and core materials into the atmosphere and ignited the combustible graphite moderator. The burning graphite moderator increased the emission of radioactive particles, carried by the smoke, as the reactor had not been encased by any kind of hard containment vessel… From 1986 to 2000, 350,400 people were evacuated and resettled from the most severely contaminated areas of Belarus, Russia, and Ukraine. According to official post-Soviet data, about 60% of the fallout landed in Belarus. The government coverup of the Chernobyl disaster was a "catalyst" for Glasnost, which "paved the way for reforms leading to the Soviet collapse." Only after radiation levels set off alarms at the Forsmark Power Plant in Sweden, over 1000 kilometres from the Chernobyl Plant, did the Soviet Union admit that an accident had occurred. Shortly after the accident, firefighters arrived to try to extinguish the fires. First on the scene was a Chernobyl Power Station firefighter brigade under the command of Lieutenant Volodymyr Pravik, who died on 9 May 1986 of acute radiation sickness. They were not told how dangerously radioactive the smoke and the debris were, and may not even have known that the accident was anything more than a regular electrical fire. 240,000 recovery workers were called upon in 1986 and 1987 and special certificates were given to 600,000, recognizing them as liquidators. (Clean-up workers.) In 2006 the liquidators held a rally in Kiev to complain about deteriorated compensation and medical support. Late in 1997 the WHO linked nearly 700 cases of thyroid cancer among children and adolescents to the disaster…
Biblical Revelations: You can find the passage in Revelations where Wormwood is mentioned in: 8: 10, 11 as I quoted verbatim in the story. Artemisia Absinthium (mugwort or common wormwood) is one of several species in the genus Artemisia which have common names that include the word mugwort. Mugwort is called chornobylnik in Ukrainian, and has given its name to the abandoned city of Chernobyl. (Chornobyl in Ukrainian).Wormwood is mentioned seven times in the Jewish Bible and once in the New Testament, always with the implication of bitterness. It is an ingredient in the spirit absinthe, and is used for flavouring in some other spirits and wines, including bitters and vermouth. There is a 'conspiracy' theory that the Wormwood connection to the Ukrainian name for the plant (Chernobyl) and the disaster in '86 have proved the biblical text accurate due to the resulting long term cancer deaths projected from the lasting radioactive contamination. (Spooky, eh?)
Nerve Agent VX: As a chemical weapon, it is classified as a weapon of mass destruction by the UN in UN Resolution 687. VX is the most toxic nerve agent ever synthesized. The production and stockpiling of VX was outlawed by the Chemical Weapons Convention of 1993. With its high viscosity and low volatility, VX has the texture and feel of motor oil. This makes it especially dangerous, as it has a high persistence in the environment. It is odourless and tasteless, and can be distributed as a liquid, both pure and as a mixture with a polymer in the form of thickened agent, or as an aerosol. Worldwide, VX disposal has continued since 1997 under the mandate of the Chemical Weapons Convention. In Russia, the US is providing support for these destruction activities with the Nunn-Lugar Global Cooperation Initiative. Another destruction plant for Russia, built for €140 million and paid for by Germany, opened at Potshep, Bryansk Oblast, in only countries known to possess VX are the US, Russia, and SYRIA… *insert scary pause* In several nations the nerve agent antidotes are issued for military personnel in the form of an auto-injector such as the United States military Mark I & II ATNAA. (Antidote Treatment Nerve Agent Auto-injector). Five days ago the BBC reported that the Syrian government had moved its chemical weapons stockpile for safety reasons…
Hells Angels: The Hells Angels Motorcycle Club (HAMC) is a worldwide motorcycle club whose members typically ride Harley-Davidson motorcycles and is considered an organised crime syndicate by the U.S. Department of Justice… (Ooookaaay…?) The name "Hells Angels" was inspired by the typical naming of squadrons, (wing insignia) or other fighting groups, with a fierce, death-defying title in both World War I and World War II, e.g., the Flying Tigers. Common nicknames for the club are the "H.A.", "Red & White", and "The 81's. (H and A being the eighth and first letters of the alphabet.) I'm honoured know two 'patched' Hells Angels from the same Chapter: they ride their immaculate bikes to rallies & shows, do untold charitable works and have 'normal' careers in ordinary walks of life. They're not racist, violent or in the least bit lawless. I speak as I find - so make your own judgments.
Nano Chips: Through its, National Nanotechnology Initiative, the USA has invested 3.7 billion dollars into research & development. The European Union has invested 1.2 billion and Japan 750 million dollars. Prosthetics, such as artificial hands, can now be made to mimic the appearance of real hands, complete with freckles, veins, hair, fingerprints and even tattoos. Some are so advance they, by link of chips, convert electrical signals from the muscles to the limb to move it… Now, there's way too much literature to batter you with here but if you're interested check out Wikipedia's Prosthetics hub and advanced chip technology pages & links. It'll blow your mind… Did you catch the report that bees were fitted with micro-transmitters the other day? If dogs can be micro-chipped so can we…
HIV& STD's - Virgin Cleansing Myth: Most prevalent in Zimbabwe and South Africa, the myth is perpetuated by traditional healers advising HIV-positive men to cure their disease by having sex with virgin girls. As many as 3,600 girls in Zimbabwe each year may be contracting HIV and AIDS after being raped. Some people are of the belief that the blood produced by raping a virgin will cleanse the infected person's blood of the disease - NOT TRUE!
So - to the thanks. I'm going to list the names of those that have religiously, and so generously, felt the need to leave reviews: from those that have hated me - to those that then loved me - eventually. (Ha) From nameless Guests to recurring faceless friends that popped up to thrill my heart with emotional comments, theories and great suggestions and encouragement. You've all made me, at some point, laugh out loud, shed a tear, sigh, gasp and kept me going through a few tough personal months. My deepest thanks goes to:
Boneslady: who is a lady indeed, as is the gracious Severine L & the sublime Jsboneslover; and all these awesome prolific reviewers; Love2Read2Much, (CP- mercy.), Marceline19 (Wow.) Squintwannabe. OoopsAmObsessed, who loved the action packed bits, just like, BnB447; JenE, (Luv ur joy!), NCIS FTW, (adored the cheers at the end BTW), and the delicious Beckbones, (blood-lust quenched now, dear friend?), Maneu, (With me all the way. X), Liselle Hunt & TheDogo. Then there were these that made me snigger; Loverofbones, SammieAtHome, Suki, Fluffybird, and PARMR. Oh. And the fab lovers of B&B fluff - high-fiveing; DWBBFan, Dovepage1, who struggled but bravely got with the program eventually. *wink* , Alexindigo, Maryfan, and this splendid reviewer with the brilliant handle: SchwupDiDupsi.
Massive hugs and sloppy kisses to these amazing Bones lovers too; Rangers042376 (Yep, thought the clown a funky twist. They wig me out too. *wink*, Lliaaame, (wow, thx), JANE, Auntof3 and Tartantrace! Are you looking for your name? Well, It's coming up. Yes, I've re-read all your comments and will treasure them. Not least from these; Flute1952, ErynGrace, (by name and nature), Gemma250, *waves* Crys82 and not forgetting Mayakasti! And if you get reviews from these, you just know you've done ok - Greened Ink, Bookwormlady, the effervescent DIKO - *Curtseys' *, Nyre The Black Rose, SilverMaker, Danni2297 and of course… Daffodil101.
Woe betide me if I miss out sincere thanks to these gilded goddesses too; Tembo, Long Beach State, Fofie675, Sandy Holl, Lipush, Tenison, and Fhtma24. Wercomingup, C-bones, Pasha54, BonesBooth as well! Then last but NEVER least; Bonesisgreat (sure is), AussieBonesFan, TmKearney, Goingdutch, Gemma, and TheSquintMe.
To all the many Guest reviewers too, humble thanks for all the giggles and metaphorical punches you gave so sweetly and positively. I've left one reviewer till last because this one has confirmed for me it's not what you say, or how often you say it, but its that you're still reading my shit in spite of everything - Cheysma2000. The sweetest hugs. XX.
I'm pretty sure I haven't left anybody out but if I have - I'm soooo friggin' sorry. A heartfelt thank you to ALL for reading, reviewing & inspiring. Love, squishy hugs and kisses. Until our paths cross again, keep safe & smiling. Lebxeb XX. Twitter: at Bexbel.