Music is a Virus

A High School Musical—Bones Crossover

By Deja and Darcie

Summary: Sharpay is found murdered and stuffed into a props container in DC and
Booth and Bones are on the case. Complete with singing and dancing! And a mostly
grumpy Booth. Parody/Humor

Disclaimer: This story is meant for fun and pleasure. I am not in any way affiliated
with either the High School Musical Trilogy or with the BONES series on Fox.
Although I may have borrowed the music from High School Musical, the lyrics are
(mostly) mine.

Table of contents

Chapter 1: High School Horror...................................................................................3

Chapter 2: Bones Steps In........................................................................................7

Chapter 3: Ms. Darbus Speaks..................................................................................12

Chapter 4: Ryan’s Song............................................................................................15

Chapter 5: Troy’s Turn to Irritate Booth....................................................................20

Chapter 6: A Sweet Story.........................................................................................24

Chapter 7: Chaos at the Jeffersonian........................................................................31

Chapter 8: The Invasion of the Virus........................................................................37

Chapter 9: The Love Bug..........................................................................................42

Chapter 10: The Aftermath of Love..........................................................................49

Chapter 11: Compromise and Case Work.................................................................55

Chapter 12: Revelations...........................................................................................63

Chapter 13: Confessions...........................................................................................71

Epilogue ................................................................................................................... 78
 Chapter 1: High School Horror

Chad dribbled his basketball a little onstage as he crossed over to where

Taylor stood, tapping her foot. He spun, caught the ball behind his back, then
popped it over his head for a mock grand finish. He held the ball over his head,
threw his head back, and struck a dramatic pose.

“Quit playin’ and get over here,” Tay said, not amused in the slightest. She
pointed to the largest metal trunk. “We need your manly muscles to move that
one.”

“No problemo,” Chad said, tossing her the basketball. Taylor caught it with a
flinch, then let it roll out of her hands. He jogged over to the trunk and began sliding
it towards center stage. “Man, what’s in here? It’s really heavy, and it smells like an
entire basketball team worth of lucky socks is in here.”

“Your manly muscles aren’t enough?” she teased. “Troy! Get over here and
help your poor little teammate. He can’t move these props.”

“Hey! I’m doing just fine on my own,” Chad said through grunts as he
struggled with the box. Troy jogged over from where he had been setting the stage
with Gabriella. Gabriella drifted over to stand by Taylor and sniffed the air.

“What smells?” Gabriella asked, wrinkling her nose.

“I don’t know, but it didn’t start smelling until the basketball guys got here.”

Gabriella paused, then said, “I think it smells like paint thinner, maybe
acetone, but something smells rotten.”
 “Something’s rotten in the state of Denmark?” Troy joked, pulling the
container as Chad pushed. Together, they slid the box to center stage, then sat on
it, acting totally exhausted.

“Good morning, duckies!” Ms. Darbus sang as she entered the theatre with a
stooped man holding a clipboard. She was wearing a flowing green dress, with
glasses with green rims to match. Though she tried to bustle like usual, she looked
tired and preoccupied. “Who is here on this glorious morning in our nation’s
capital?”

“Good morning, Ms. Darbus,” Taylor began, “We are here, of course, and I
think Ryan and Kelsi are in the sound booth, and I saw Zeke come in earlier, but I
haven’t seen him since. Everyone else is scheduled to arrive in DC sometime
tonight on the East High buses.”

“This thing really stinks,” Chad commented softly. Troy nodded and stood up,
moving to the edge of the stage and letting his feet hang down as he sat. Chad sat
next to him, the girls joining them soon after.

Ms. Darbus continued organizing, “All right, my children, practice makes

perfect, and I want our last little show together to be perfect…” she paused to wipe
a tear from her eye with a flowerdy handkerchief, then announced, “So why don’t
we practice some of the main numbers while we set up. I’ll be talking to Louis about
the arrangement here at the theatre.”

“It’s just Lou, ma’am,” the man with the clipboard interjected.

“Of course, Louis,” she said, sweeping away, poor Lou following behind
dejectedly.

“I suppose we need Ryan and Kelsi to begin,” Gabriella said. No one moved
for several moments as they kicked their heels against the stage.
 “We’ve done this so many times, I think we have it down by now,” Troy
complained. Everyone murmured their agreement and watched Ryan and Kelsi flirt
in the sound booth across the auditorium from them.

“I like touring, but it just makes me so tired,” Taylor whined, “I mean, we

were just in New York three weeks ago, and in Orlando the week before that, and
before that…”

“Yeah, and I’m starting college soon and I haven’t prepared for my classes. I
still need to get some books!” Gabriella said, sitting up a little straighter in distress.

“Just order online. That’s what I did,” Troy said, tugging on the ends of her
hair. She gave him a sweet smile, then turned as Chad started speaking.

“I thought New York was weird. Did anyone else think it was weird?” he said,
scratching his head.

“I agree. It should have been a rush, you know? Instead it turned out to be
very awkward. I’m glad DC’s our last stop before we’re home for good.” They all
agreed and sat on the stage, shoulders slumped.

“I don’t hear any singing!” Ms. Darbus said in a sing-song cadence from the
side of the stage. The four sighed and stood up. Chad grinned at the group, then
shouted at the sound booth.

“Yo, lovebirds, we need you down here, pronto!”

Ryan and Kelsi broke apart guiltily, then made their way to the stage, Ryan
hopping onto the stage to direct choreography and Kelsi making her way to the
piano in the orchestra pit. She began warming up, playing a few random pieces
before segueing into High School Musical. They began singing halfheartedly as Ryan
tried to get them into a semblance of their positions for the finale piece. They sang,
 “High School Musical

Who says we aren’t cool enough

We smile even when it’s rough

We live on our laughter.”

As they sang, Chad ran after his basketball that had been kicked to the
middle of the stage and stopped against the box full of props. He picked up the ball
and promptly jumped away from it, holding it at arms length as some liquid dripped
off the ball onto the floor.

“Oh, gross, guys! What is the stuff? This is nasty. I think your prop box is
leaking,” he shouted. Kelsi stopped playing and everyone else stopped singing and
turned towards Chad. “What’s in here?” he asked in dismay.

“There’s nothing in there that should leak,” Ryan said, “We packed all the
paints and solvents in the red containers. Those should just be props.”

“I’ll open it. Check it out,” Troy said. He and Chad crept closer, avoiding the
wet puddles on the floor that were really letting off a putrid smell, and finally
getting to the clasps that kept the lid closed. There was no lock, so they flipped the
catches and threw open the box. Immediately they stepped back, overwhelmed by
the smell.

“What is it?” Troy asked, coughing as he covered his nose with his sleeve.
Chad pulled his jersey up to his nose, squinching his eyes as they started watering.
Chad chose to be the brave one, looking into the prop box. All he saw was plastic
sheeting and drop cloths. He pulled at a corner of the plastic that was sticking up,
jerking it out of the box. He jumped back with a scream as a hand that looked half
eaten away fell out of the box. A hand that was attached to an arm, attached to a
body inside the trunk.
 Chapter 2: Bones Steps In

“Booth, I’m here. What was so important about this case that I had to come
here to pick you up at the Hoover?” Brennan said as she strode through the door
into his office, completely ignoring the fact that he was in the middle of a
conversation on his office phone.

He covered the mouthpiece with his hand, whispering, “Bones, can’t you see
I’m on the…oh, of course sir.” He hurriedly jerked the phone back to his mouth,
placating whoever was on the other line. Bones stood with her hands on her hips,
indignant at effectively being shushed by Booth. He continued, his face sweating
despite the cool air in the office. “Whatever we can do to clear this up. Yes sir. Yes,
we’ve got our best people…” he trailed off, looking at the phone that now let off a
faint dial tone.

“So what’s so important?” Brennan resumed in an annoyed tone. Booth

sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb.

“New case, Bones,” he said by way of answer. She lifted her eyebrows and
made a brusque “go ahead” gesture with her hand. He handed her his notes, not
yet condensed into a file. Booth stood up from his desk and grabbed his suit jacket
from the back of his chair. With her still reading his notes, he took her elbow and
ushered her out of his office.

“From the description of the body, Cam would be a better choice than I to
come with you,” Brennan murmured as she shrugged out of Booth’s grasp. Booth
promptly put his hand on her back to push her out the door.

“Cam is in interdepartmental meetings all day, and she’s not my partner,” he

answered as he beat her to the elevator button.
 “I am supposed to be in those meetings, too, you know,” she said, pressing
the elevator button again before he could.

“Yes, but I did you a favor because I know you hate that stuff and you would
complain to me about wasting an entire day if you were made to go, while it’s part
of Cam’s job description and she’s good at that kind of bureaucracy.” They stepped
into the elevator in synch. “Besides,” he muttered, “Cam asked me to please, for
the love of God, to get you out of the lab before you drove her crazy.”

“What?” she asked absently. He won the race to push the garage level button
because Brennan was no longer paying attention to him, immersed in the notes he
had taken.

“Hmmm? Oh, nothing,” Booth replied, smiling absently at the closed elevator
doors and the lighted numbers above them. In the garage, Brennan stopped first at
her car for her kit, then joined Booth in his SUV. She moved a small book bag out of
the passenger seat and placed it behind her on the floor.

“Did you have Parker this weekend?” she asked as he pulled out of the
garage. He nodded as she reached between her back and the seat to find what else
she was sitting on. She pulled out a half-eaten giant lollipop, mostly unwrapped
from the plastic, that stuck gummily to her shirt. Bits and pieces of fuzz from the
seat and from Brennan peppered the surface of the multicolored candy and
Brennan looked at it in complete disgust.

“You let Parker eat this type of unhealthy foods, rife with artificial ingredients
and much too much sugar?”

“Yeah, Bones,” Booth replied quickly, “He likes it, and the only time he really
gets to eat it is when he’s with me. Rebecca is on a healthy food streak and won’t
let him have much sugar.”
 “I think Rebecca is right. Studies prove that sugar and ingredients like…” she
read from the label on the candy, “…Red number five can lead to attention deficit
disorders and hyperactivity. It causes performance in school and extracurricular
activities to be impaired, and trying to control it with more chemicals introduced
into the body is irresponsible.”

“I’m with you there, Bones,” he interrupted, pushing his sunglasses up his
nose and easing into traffic.

“Then why do you give Parker unhealthy things like this when you agree with
me that it could potentially be harmful not only to his physical health, but also to his
mental health and stability?”

“Because it isn’t all the time. It’s just every other weekend and occasionally a
holiday. It’s nothing major. And besides, I only get to see Parker maybe once every
two weeks. I want him to have fun with me.”

“So, basically you trade a physical commodity, the candy, for an emotional
commodity, namely his affection,” Brennan concluded dubiously.

“No! What?” Booth exclaimed, turning his eyes from the road to glare at her,
“You make it sound like I’m buying his happiness. I just want him to have a good
time when he’s with me, you know? I don’t get to see him that often, so it’s special
when I do.”

“But surely your son’s health and wellbeing are more important than an
ephemeral weekend of fun?” she questioned. Booth’s hand tightened on the
steering wheel.

“You know what, Bones?” he said, his voice hard, “When you become a
parent, we can exchange parenting tips. Until then, keep your opinions to yourself,
OK?”
 Brennan glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as he slouched against
the window. She avoided his annoyed glares that he occasionally shot her way and
remained silent for the rest of the trip. They made their way through DC traffic until
they arrived at a small theatre located at a local college outside the city. The small
employee’s lot in the back had empty spaces that Booth parked in and they got out,
Bones carrying her kit over her shoulder.

The DCPD officer escorted them through the backstage area to the center
stage. They walked under the crime scene tape in the wings and Brennan
immediately centered herself on the open trunk. She scanned the area, noting the
fluid on the floor and the insects that had gathered around the body. Stepping
closer, she looked inside the container. The plastic covering the body had been
pushed back and a crime scene tech was taking pictures of the body and the
container, including pictures of the inside of the lid. Brennan acknowledged the
tech’s thoroughness and concentrated on the parts of the body she could see.

“Booth!” she called over her shoulder. She heard his footsteps behind her
and turned back to look at him. He stood in his normal crime scene posture: his
jacket on, his tie tightened, and a notepad and pencil at the ready.

“What is it, Bones?” he asked, finishing up whatever he was writing and

giving her his attention.

“I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to tell you that hasn’t been deduced from
what you can see,” she admitted with a little frustration.

“Just give me what you can, OK?” he soothed. She nodded and turned back to
the corpse.

“Female, age 15 to 20. Caucasian. Judging by the rate of decomp, I’d

estimate she’s been dead about three weeks. There is a sharp chemical smell under
the smell of decomposition.”
 “What can you tell me about the wounds?” he asked, jotting down the
concise information.

“Trauma to the occipital portion of the skull,” she said, moving the body’s
head and gently feeling the back of the head where blood was matted in the hair.
She moved the ragged clothing aside as she pointed to the rest of the damage,
letting him see the body in all its gory glory. “Damage to the cervical vertebrae. The
right clavicle and scapula are broken, as well as the right humerus. Bruising on her
back suggests that there might be damage to the ribs as well, but I would need x-
rays to confirm it.”

“Was she beaten?” Booth asked. Brennan mumbled something about

meaningless conjecture, but paused to think. Booth waited impatiently, tapping his
pencil against the paper rhythmically.

“This damage would be consistent with a fall. However, I’m not comfortable
with making unsubstantiated claims. I’ll have to get the body back to the lab if I’m
to tell more. Cam would probably tell you more about this than I, seeing as this
body is very…meaty.” Brennan still examined the body, her blue gloved hands
moving delicately along the victim’s hand. “There’s some sort of embedded
particulates in her hand,” she observed. “It looks like slivers of glass.” She placed
the hand back in the container and stood up from a crouch.

“Everything back to the Jeffersonian,” Booth commanded, giving a sweeping

gesture. “Do you need the floor too?”

“No, just samples of the fluid,” she replied, stripping off her gloves and
placing them in a red biohazard bag.

“Come on, Bones,” he said as she worked to put her kit back together, “Let’s
go see the lady in charge of the prop box.”
Chapter 3: Ms. Darbus Speaks

“I understand that you’re the drama teacher from the school that owns the
box the victim was found in,” Booth began. Ms. Darbus tucked the handkerchief she
was using to dab at her eyes into a rubber band on her wrist.

“Yes, I lead the drama program at East High. My name is Agatha Darbus,”
she replied, adjusting her glasses on her nose.

“We would like to ask you a couple of questions, if we may, Ms. Darbus,” he
said kindly. Brennan stood to the side, listening intently and glancing between
Booth and the older woman.

“Of course,” she said.

“When did the box arrive in DC?”

“The props were all sent ahead of us. I believe that they arrived here at the
theatre yesterday. We just brought them onto the stage this morning, however. Oh,
this is quite tragic,” she moaned. Her hair waved frantically about her face in time
with her dramatic hand motions that set her filmy sleeves dancing. The whole of her
speech was given in a singsong type of voice, complete with a high pitched tone.

“When were these containers packed?” he asked, writing the information in

his small notebook.

“We took down the props from our last performance while we were in New
York about three weeks ago. They went back to East High for storage until they
were brought to Washington DC. To my knowledge, the containers weren’t even
unpacked, just unloaded from the trucks, then loaded back on to come here.”

“The victim was a Caucasian female, about 15 to 20 years old. She was
blond, petite, well dressed. Do you know anyone who might match her description?”
Brennan asked, moving so that she was slightly closer to Ms. Darbus. Both partners
watched Ms. Darbus closely as she thought. Her face became even paler and she let
her eyes drop to the handkerchief she was twisting in her hands before looking up
at them.

“I believe I might. There is a girl who is an active part of the drama program
at East High named Sharpay Evans. I expected to see her here with her brother, but
he came alone today. Sharpay is always very involved in whatever production we
play. She has a starring role in this production, as a matter of fact.” Ms. Darbus
pulled a flyer off the bundle in the seat next to her and handed it to Booth, pointing
out Sharpay in the lower right hand corner. Booth passed it to Brennan, who
scanned it closely and nodded vaguely.

“I feel confident in saying that this is the victim,” she whispered to Booth. Ms.
Darbus gave a low wail and pressed her handkerchief to her eyes, letting her
glasses fall to her chest.

“I’m sorry for your loss, ma’m,” Booth said compassionately. “You knew
Sharpay well?”

“Yes,” she sobbed, “She and her brother have been a large part of the drama
program for all their high school years. Their family has been very supportive of
what I do.”

“Her brother also acts?” Brennan asked, her finger pointing out Sharpay and
Ryan’s names on the flyer. Ms. Darbus nodded, still crying into her hands.

“Yes, he also choreographs the dances. I depend on the Evans greatly.” She
pointed to Ryan who was sitting in shock in the front row with Kelsi.
 Lou walked up to them and stood at a respectful distance. He caught Booth’s
eye and Booth stepped back, allowing Lou to speak. “Excuse me,” he said to Ms.
Darbus, “I wonder if this is a good time to talk to you?”

“We’re through,” Booth said, handing Ms. Darbus his card, “If you can think
of anything else, don’t hesitate to call me.” He and Brennan moved towards Ryan.
Kelsi held his hand as she laid her head on his shoulder.

“Ryan Evans?” Booth asked. Ryan nodded, gripping Kelsi’s hand. “I’m Special
Agent Seeley Booth from the FBI and this is my partner, Dr. Brennan. May we ask
you some questions?”

“I called my parents and they said that I should wait for our family lawyer
before I talk to the police,” Ryan said, looking nervous and pale.

“Then would you mind accompanying us back to the FBI building to wait for
your lawyer?” he said politely. Ryan nodded and Kelsi spoke up.

“We’ll all come with you, Ryan. You shouldn’t have to do this alone. Is it all
right if we all come?”

“Yeah, Ryan, we’re all in this together,” Troy said. Booth began to hear the
faint strains of music. He decided quickly that it was time to leave.

“If you would all come back to the Hoover, that would be great,” Booth said,
ushering Brennan out quickly to the SUV.
Chapter 4: Ryan’s Song

“Now Sweets, these kids are like your age, so I want you to give me a read on
them. No going off on tangents, though. Stay on target,” Booth said
condescendingly as he placed the earpiece in his ear.

“Agent Booth, your attempts to undermine me have always been an

unwelcome part of our interactions. If you could just…” Sweets trailed off as Booth
left the observation room to enter the interrogation room. “Yes, thank you. It’s been
a pleasure,” Sweets mumbled sarcastically. He flipped the switch to turn on the
sound as Booth opened the door and greeted the young man and his lawyer.

“Special Agent Seeley Booth,” he introduced himself, shaking Ryan’s hand,

then the lawyer’s. “I’d like to ask you a few questions about your sister, Sharpay.”

“Yes, of course, Agent Booth,” Ryan said, his hands clenched nervously in
front of him.

“You and Sharpay were close?” he asked, his face compassionate. Music
began softly, filtering in over the speaker near the door and through his earpiece.
Ryan looked down to his hands, then looked up to the ceiling. He began singing
softly in time with the music, to the tune of “You Are The Music In Me.”

“Na na na na,” he sang, “Na na na na yeah, This is the mystery…”

“Hey, whoa! What’s with the singing?!” Booth exclaimed. Sweet’s voice came
over his earpiece.

“Booth, I believe he has a musical virus. It causes the victim to be unable to

express their emotions without singing or dancing,” he explained to the irritated
agent.
 “So you’re saying I should just let them sing?” he asked incredulously,
turning slightly towards the one way mirror so he could glare through the reflective
surface at Sweets.

“Yes, you should let them sing. Otherwise you might not be able to get
anything out of them because this is so emotional for them.”

“Fine. Go ahead Ryan. Tell me about Sharpay,” Booth said, his irritation
showing in his pen tapping viciously against his knee under the table. The music
began again where he had left off.

“She was my sister once upon a time.

She was spoiled. She was selfish.

When you look at her a little closer

She’s not perfect. She’s a decent person.

Just a girl after a boy

Things just took their natural course

One single act…”

“Single act,” Kelsi echoed from the door.

“Made a life…”

“Made a life,” Kelsi sang.

“I think it was Troy,” he sang, letting his head fall into his hands.
 “Mmmm, The father was Troy,” Kelsi sang. Booth turned to her in outrage.

“Who are you?! This is an interrogation, not a freakin’ chorus concert!” he

erupted, his face completely confused and angry.

“I’m Kelsi,” she said, “I’m the back up singer for this song.”

“No! No. Everybody who doesn’t need to be in here, leave! That includes you,
too,” he shouted, pointing at a young FBI agent who was holding a flashlight above
her, spotlighting her and a young intern holding a microphone in front of her face.
“Sweets, did you have anything to do with this?” he asked, annoyed.

“No, Agent Booth. I believe that they might have caught the musical virus
from exposure to the actors. Young people are more susceptible to it than older
people, and women are more likely to contract it than men, though there are
notable exceptions,” he said, looking at the lawyer who had been humming
ecstatically and tapping her heels on the floor in time with the music.

“Listen, is there any way to control it? I can’t have back up singers or choral
people coming in and out. Especially if our agents are being infected,” Booth
demanded, pressing his earpiece in so he could hear Sweets clearly. Sweets sighed.

“I’ll have someone guard the door. But I can’t make any promises,” he
replied. All the extraneous people left and Booth turned his attention back to Ryan.

“I’m sorry for the interruption. You told me that you think Sharpay was
pregnant and you think the father was Troy,” Booth said, jotting down the
information.

“Yes, Troy Bolton. Sharpay wanted him very much and she’s used to getting
what she wants. From what Sharpay told me, they were together for a while, but
then he went back to his girlfriend. She didn’t come out and say that he was the
father of her child, but she didn’t deny it when I asked. It’s been all over school that
they were together.”

“When did you last see your sister?” Booth asked.

“In New York. After the play was over, we were all packing up and I saw her
arguing with Troy. Later I got a call that she had called Mom and Dad and they sent
over the jet to pick her up so she wouldn’t have to take the bus back with the rest of
us,” Ryan told him sorrowfully. “Maybe if I had insisted that she come with us she
wouldn’t have been killed.”

“Why was your sister never reported missing?” Booth inquired. Ryan gave a
little shrug.

“She always did exactly what she wanted to. She told me that she would
meet us in DC and that she wanted time alone. I didn’t think she was missing.”

“And your parents weren’t worried?”

“No. They were in Europe most of these past weeks. That’s where they are
now. They gave us a credit card and told us to enjoy ourselves.”

“You said that Sharpay told you she would meet you in DC. Did you speak to
her in person?”

“No, she sent me a text saying that she had things to think through and she
didn’t want to see anyone until she had to. I assumed that she was trying to see if
she wanted to keep the baby. She didn’t answer her phone after that, but I didn’t
expect her to. She might be flighty, but when she said she wanted to be alone, she
wouldn’t talk to anyone.”
 “When did you get the text?”

“Exactly three weeks from Sunday. I had been home for two days and hadn’t
seen her, so I called. She replied with the text.”

“Thank you, Ryan,” Booth said, closing his notebook and replacing his pen in
his pocket. “We’ll contact you if we have any more questions. If you can tell me
anything else, don’t hesitate to call.” Booth stood up and opened the door to find a
burly FBI agent outside holding back three young people. After giving him
instructions, Booth sighed and pushed his way through to the observation room.
Chapter 5: Troy’s Turn to Irritate Booth

Sweets was talking with Dr. Brennan and Angela when he entered the
observation room. “Hey, Bones, Angela,” Booth said wearily, “When did you get
here? And why is Angela here?”

“I decided to transfer to the FBI and they sent me here for my badge and
gun, Agent Booth,” Angela teased. “I report directly to you now.”

“What? When did this happen?” Brennan exclaimed in alarm.

“Relax, Bones,” Booth soothed, “Angela was kidding. Unless she wasn’t, then
let me go to my office so I can resign effective immediately.”

“So you were kidding?” Bones asked Angela. Angela sighed and nodded.
Brennan pushed her confusion aside and answered Booth’s questions. “I came after
the body was delivered to Cam.”

“Who is not happy, by the way,” Angela quipped.

“And Angela is here because she is not required for a facial reconstruction
because we have prints and dental records that match Sharpay Evans. She said that
a sketch artist on hand would be useful, and Cam agreed.”

Booth, Sweets and Angela exchanged three-way glances, interpreting

Brennan’s words as meaning that Cam was angry and annoyed at being dragged
away from her meetings and was taking it out on everyone around her. Angela just
chose to take herself out of the line of fire, so to speak.
 “Yeah, well, I suppose you can stay here in the observation room with Sweets
while Bones and I do the interrogations. Did you find anything before you left?”
Booth asked, fishing another earpiece out of the foam in the box for Brennan.

“Both Dr. Saroyan and Mr. Vincent Nigel-Murray confirmed from the x-rays
that the cause of death was an internal decapitation due to a fall from a height of
about twenty feet. She landed on her neck, tearing her spinal cord, then she fell
again, from a height of about ten feet onto an object protruding from the surface,
which caused the damage to the ribs and scapula.”

“So what you’re telling me is that she fell, then bounced?” Booth questioned,
his eyebrows moving up in surprise.

“No, she did not ‘bounce.’ I believe she fell from a height of about twenty
feet, landing in such a way to tear her spinal cord, then she…rolled…and fell to
another surface below the first,” Brennan corrected.

“I ran a simulation, but there were just too many variables to get anything
useful,” Angela chimed. Booth watched as another young actor was ushered into
the interrogation room.

“Was the victim pregnant at the time of death?” Booth asked.

“Yes,” Brennan said in surprise, “She was five weeks pregnant. She was also
infected with a virus that causes…”

“Singing and dancing?” Booth finished for her. Brennan nodded, again
surprised. Booth noticed her surprise and gave a noisy sigh, “Yeah, we’ve run into
that already.”

“We’ve all been exposed to the virus, but it shouldn’t cause any harm. We
should be immune to it,” Brennan assured Booth when she saw his horrified
reaction to her news.
 “We better be immune. I am NOT singing and dancing like some fool.” He
saw Troy waiting in the interrogation room flicking his hair out of his eyes. “I really
hope this one is not like the others. I’m not sure I can stand a whole investigation
like this. Come on, Bones.”

They entered the interrogation room, letting the crowd control force a way
through the growing numbers of young people affiliated with the FBI. The noise of
the crowd leveled off when the door closed and Troy watched them nervously as
they sat across the table from them.

“Troy Bolton? I’m Special Agent Seeley Booth and this is my partner, Dr.
Brennan. We’d like to ask you a few questions about your relationship with Sharpay
Evans,” Booth started, looking very intimidating and listening suspiciously for music
to start.

“Of course. I’ll help in any way I can,” Troy said, looking from Booth’s stern
face to Brennan’s curiosity.

“Were you in a sexual relationship with Sharpay?” he asked abruptly.

“No. God no. I’m with Gabriella. Period. We’re very happy together.”

“Then how would you characterize your relationship with Sharpay?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I guess we were friends, except that Sharpay doesn’t…didn’t

have friends. She had minions. I definitely wasn’t one of her minions. I didn’t
actively avoid her, but I didn’t want to be around her. She just causes trouble.”

“When was the last time you saw Sharpay?” Brennan asked. Troy’s eyes
swiveled to her as he answered.
 “I saw her in New York. She was angry about something and refused to ride
back with us in the bus. I’m not sure what she was mad about, but Gabriella tried to
talk to her and Sharpay was very rude to her. Sharpay took her private jet
somewhere and I didn’t see her after that.”

Brennan and Booth glanced at each other and simultaneously turned back to
Troy. Booth stood up, quickly followed by Brennan, and ushered Troy out of the
room. The crowd outside the room had grown and in the crowd was Gabriella. Troy
saw her and brightened considerably. Music began, the strains of “Just Wanna Be
With You” softly playing at first and gradually getting louder. Troy and Gabriella
locked eyes from across the crowd, which had grown strangely quiet. Booth
groaned loudly as Troy began to sing,

I’ve got things I wanna say

All these distractions are getting in the way.

We’re going in different directions…

Troy and Gabriella reached out to each other as an older, grey-haired FBI
agent escorted Gabriella into the interrogation room as Troy was escorted away to
get a written statement. Together they sang,

And whatever happens, I know I’ve got you…

Gabriella and Troy took deep breaths as the music swelled, launching into the
chorus. Booth abruptly slammed the door between them, cutting off the music
sharply.

“Stupid music virus,” Booth groused, “This is going to be a long case.”

Chapter 6: A Sweet Story

“Miss Montez, when was the last time you saw Sharpay?” Booth asked,
sighing a little bit as he settled into his chair.

“The day we left New York to go back to East High,” she answered. Her face
was pale, framed by her dark hair.

“Witnesses say that you argued with Sharpay before you left,” he pressed,
“What did you argue about?”

“She was just upset and yelled a little. We didn’t actually argue,” she
explained. “She was…dealing with something. I think it was guy trouble.”

“What led you to believe that?” Brennan asked, trying to take an active role
in the interrogation.

“Well, she was in a bad mood, worse than usual, and she snapped at me no
matter what I said. I tried to get her to go on the bus, but she told me that she
wouldn’t ride back with ‘him’ for anything. She never said who she was talking
about, but she was looking straight at Zeke when she said it. I know that Zeke really
liked her, so I thought that they’d gotten into a fight about something. He did have
a sort of stalker tendency to follow her around with some sort of baked goods.”

“Did he ever become violent towards her? Ever say something to you about
it?” Booth asked, loosening up as he stopped worrying about an unexpected music
strike and got into the interrogation where he felt comfortable.
 “Zeke? No, he was never violent. He and his friend Jason are about as
harmless as you can get. Like I said, he really liked her, from what I could tell. He
wanted to go to the prom with her very badly. Zeke was always baking something
and giving it to her, and I think Sharpay used him to get her chocolate fix
sometimes. She tended not to pay attention to anything but herself,” Gabriella told
them.

“Thank you for your time, Miss Montez,” Booth said, wrapping up the
interrogation. Booth and Brennan stood and let the same agent escort Gabriella out
through the large crowd that seemed instinctively to gather wherever the actors
were. Booth hunched his shoulders as if expecting to get hit by a blast of music and
pushed his partner to the door that led to the observation room. He opened it
quickly, barely pausing for Brennan to squeeze herself in before he moved in and
shut the door behind him. He let himself lean against the wall in relief for a few
seconds before pushing away.

“So far, so good,” Booth said, watching as agents brought Zeke into the
interrogation room. It was obvious that he’d been crying. Booth turned to Sweets,
“What are your thoughts, Sweets? Could any of them have done it?”

“If by ‘them’ you mean the teenagers you’ve been interrogating, then no. It’s
quite fascinating, actually. I’ve never worked with anyone infected with the music
virus, and I find that I can judge the emotional attachment to the victim and to each
other by the amount of music that plays at any given time. The twin brother shows
great emotional attachment despite her flaws, but the people that she worked
closely with and that were considered friends show remarkably little upset at her
death. However, they show great attachment to each other and to their group as a
whole. This is so exciting!”

“I haven’t seen you so revved up since you went under cover with me to
catch the chiropractor, honey-poo,” Angela teased Sweets, rubbing her hand along
his jacket sleeve. Sweets chuckled nervously and pulled his arm from her grasp.

“Do you think this adolescent is a stalker?” Brennan asked Booth. He

shrugged and turned to the observation window.
 “The kid doesn’t look like a stalker, and he doesn’t feel like a killer. I would
call him lovesick,” Booth replied.

“Didn’t you say that stalkers and killers can delude themselves into thinking
that they and their victims have an emotional bond?” Brennan questioned closely.

“Yeah, but like I said, this is just a kid. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy
that could throw a girl that he liked off something high and stuff her body in a props
container that he had to know would be found the next time they put on this play.”

“I agree with Agent Booth,” Sweets chimed in, “This crime seems like one of
passion and desperation. It was most likely accidental, by someone who was close
to the victim, but not in her inner circle. The music virus probably had a part to play
in her death. Musical viruses don’t directly effect the emotions as much as they give
them an outlet that is generally accepted by those who are likewise infected.
However, emotions like anger, greed, and jealousy are usually confined to
monologues that, if heard by another, may cause reciprocating actions in the
listener.”

Booth stared at him blankly. “OK, so, cutting out the psychobabble, what did
you say?”

Sweets sighed, “I’m just saying that I don’t think any of the teens did it.”

“Well, why didn’t you say that in the first place?” Booth complained, turning
to the window. Zeke was staring at the ceiling dejectedly, trying his best not to cry.
“How much you want to bet this guy sings during his questioning?”

“Booth, you can’t gamble, not with your past addictions,” Brennan told him.

“I was asking a rhetorical question, Bones,” Booth said through gritted teeth.
He ushered her out the door and through the crowd yet again.
 In the observation room, Angela moved to stand next to Sweets and
whispered, “How much do you want to bet that Booth shoots an inanimate object
before this case is through?”

“No way I’m taking that bet,” Sweets whispered back. “Booth has a
disturbingly high rate of shooting innocent bystanding objects when things aren’t
going his way.”

“Guys, when you talk about me, remember to turn the speaker off,” Booth
said, his voice a faint whisper, but still very intimidating. He continued menacingly,
“Less people get hurt that way.” Sweets gulped visibly and turned to Angela.
Angela, having no fear, smirked and turned the talk switch to off.

As soon as Booth and Brennan entered the room, music started to play softly.
“Gotta Go My Own Way” filtered softly into their ears and Zeke responded
immediately by closing his eyes and moving his head to the music, occasionally
saying “Sharpay” at random intervals.

“Not this again,” Booth groaned. Brennan put her hand on his arm as they sat
across from Zeke.

“I know that you can get good information from him even if the information
comes in the form of a song,” Brennan whispered into his ear. He smiled at her and
straightened from his slouch to rest his elbow on the table and regard Zeke with a
professional eye.

“Tell me about Sharpay,” he coaxed Zeke. Zeke opened his eyes as the
music reached his cue and began singing,

I gotta say what’s on my mind.

If you look at my past, I’m not sure what you’d find.

 I have so much to saaaayyy…

I’ve never found another girl who could complete me like Sharpay….

“Oh, God,” Booth groaned. Angela and Sweets shushed him while Brennan
gave him an encouraging look. Zeke continued, launching into the chorus.

She was the best thing that happened to me!

I tried to deserve her, but then she let me be.

She left after she told me the news Sunday…

“Sunday?” Booth asked, writing a note oh his pad. Brennan shot him another
look, but this one clearly said “shut up.” He obeyed and let Zeke continue, saving
his questions for after his musical breakdown.

When she told meeeee….

I baked some cookies.

Booth waited as the music faded, then launched into his questions quickly
before it could start up with a different song. “When did you last see Sharpay?” he
asked. Zeke sniffed, but answered.

“Sunday, like I said. She told me something…huge. I cook when I’m

stressed,” he confessed.

“What did she tell you?” Booth asked.

“She told me…” he began as music began filtering though the speakers
again. Booth panicked.
 “No! No music! Don’t sing it! Just…tell me,” he said quickly.

Zeke was subdued and the music evaporated. “She told me that she was
pregnant with my child,” he said quietly.

“You were in a sexual relationship with Sharpay?” Brennan clarified. He

nodded and a big tear fell onto the table.

“Yes, but she didn’t want to keep our child. She said it would completely ruin
her and she wanted nothing to do with our child or with me. I…I got angry. I told her
that she wasn’t thinking straight and that we could do this together, but she said
that she wasn’t speaking with me again and to mind my own business.”

“And you pushed her,” Brennan continued. Zeke looked up in confusion.

“No!” he said emphatically. “Like I said, she said there was no discussion,
that it was her body and I didn’t have any right to say otherwise. And I didn’t want
to push her into a decision anyways. So I went to bake some cookies. I thought that
if I could bring them to her, maybe we could talk and she might change her mind.
But when I called her around five that evening, she wouldn’t answer her phone. I
guess she was serious about not talking to me.”

“When did you last speak with her?” Booth asked. “Before you went to cook?”

“I guess it was around one. It was lunch time and there was no one but us at
school.”

“You were at East High?” Booth questioned.

“Yeah,” Zeke answered, sniffing and wiping his nose on the back of his jacket
sleeve. Brennan took a packet of tissues from her pocket and handed him several.
He just crumpled them in his hands. “She said she was getting some big news at
the school and that a baby would ruin her chances. So I left, and that was the last
time I saw her.”

“Do you have someone who can confirm your whereabouts on Sunday?”
Booth asked.

“I…I guess. I mean, I went home, and my sister was there with her friends. I
made some brownies for them, so they might remember. My sister tried to get me
to talk about it. She knew it was about Sharpay because she heard the phone call
that morning. I tried to tell her what Sharpay said to me but I couldn’t sing a note.”

“Too bad that didn’t happen here,” Booth muttered under his breath. Like a
good partner, Brennan kicked him under the table.

“Thank you for answering our questions,” Brennan said, letting her hand rest
on his gently, “We’re so sorry for your loss.” As they were about to leave, Zeke
spoke up.

“Dr. Brennan? Do you know if our baby was a boy or a girl?” he asked
miserably. Booth and Brennan stopped and regarded him seriously. Both men
waited for her to speak.

“DNA tests confirm the child was a baby girl. About five weeks along,” she
finally answered.

“Thank you,” he whispered. Booth laid a comforting hand on her shoulder as

they left. Behind them they heard Zeke begin to sing again, a sad, plaintive song.
This time Booth didn’t object.
Chapter 7: Chaos at the Jeffersonian

Booth and Brennan made their way back to the observation room in an
introspective mood. Booth opened the door for Brennan and followed her in. Zeke
was singing in the next room and Angela was openly crying, dabbing at her eyes
with a tissue. Sweets was sniffing loudly and rubbed his nose with a tissue that
Angela handed to him. They turned when the door opened and Sweets quickly
stuffed the tissue into his pocket.

“Allergies, Agent Booth,” he explained quickly. Booth gave him an

incredulous look, his eyebrows raised disbelievingly.

“It’s just so sweet,” Angela gushed. “Such a sad teenage romance and
tragedy. I mean, he loves her from a distance, then brings her food that he made
himself. She likes him, but keeps it a secret. They have a night of passion that
results in a child…oh, it’s just so sad.”

“Yeah, then someone pushes her off something so she breaks her neck and
kills her and her child,” Booth said sourly.

“Well, completely spoil the mood!” Angela complained. Booth ignored her as
he answered his ringing cell phone.

“Booth,” he answered. Everyone in the room listened intently to his side of

the conversation while trying to look interested in something else except Brennan
who didn’t bother to pretend. “Yeah, send it to the Jeffersonian. They’ll do the
workup.”

When he ended the call, Brennan pounced on him, “What are they sending to
the Jeffersonian?”
 “A cell phone that the FBI forensics team found in another prop box. They
think it’s Sharpay’s phone. It doesn’t have a battery. It was probably taken to keep
it from being traced. Angela, we need to see what we can get out of it.”

“I’ll probably be more useful back at the lab as well,” Brennan said.

“I’ll drive you and see if the rest of the squints have found anything useful,”
Booth offered. He and Brennan began bickering immediately.

“Angela can give me a ride to the Jeffersonian. You don’t have to come,” she
said dismissively.

“The squints could have found something that I need to know,” he countered,
gathering the DVDs of the interrogations and placing the disk in the file he carried.

“If they had found something that would be of use, they would have called
me,” she said.

“Not if it didn’t look important to them. There have been times that the
squints have overlooked things that you or I have found critical to solving the case,”
Booth argued as he pushed her out the door. Angela and Sweets followed them,
both grinning widely at the partner’s interchange.

“Is this what your sessions are like?” Angela whispered to Sweets.

“Totally,” he answered. “They usually ignore me completely when they have

something to say to each other and I can barely get a question in edgewise. It’s
surprising that I ever finished my book based on them.”
 “Speaking of that, can I get a little sneak peak before it comes out?
Brennan’s told me some very interesting things that I’m dying to confirm.”

“Sorry, you can read it after it’s published,” Sweets said as he made his way
to his office. Angela pouted a little.

“You sound just like Bren,” she said, then smiled and waved as she made her
way to the car park and Sweets left for his office.

Brennan decided that she would ride with Booth and that he could
accompany her to the lab on the pretext that he could be at the lab when Angela
turned on the phone. They went through security at the Jeffersonian together,
breezing though the checkpoints. When they reached the Medico-Legal lab, they
were greeted with a host of singing figures who danced around, carrying files and
folders. The dancers and singers were mostly young interns and lab technicians in
blue lab coats. Cam stood in the middle of the outrageous mess like a conductor,
wildly waving her arms and shouting to be heard over the singing.

“Dr. Brennan, thank God you’re here,” she said, letting her arms fall to her
sides exhaustedly.

“What’s going on, Cam?” she asked, appalled at the state the lab was in.
Booth stood slightly to the side and behind her, laughing at the chaos around him.

“The biocontainment system didn’t recognize the music virus and it allowed it
to circulate through the ventilation systems, exposing the entire Medico-Legal lab
and much of the artifacts department. I called security and gave them a list of
people allowed in. This virus is particularly virulent, and people are dropping like
flies around here. Anyone showing symptoms is quarantined for up to twelve hours
after the symptoms disappear.” Cam looked ready to pull her hair out.

“Has the evidence from the FBI techs arrived?” Brennan asked, looking
around the lab in amazement.
 “Yes,” Cam replied, pointing wearily at two men with blue windbreakers
proclaiming them FBI practicing choreography with three guys in blue lab coats. “I
swear, they were only in here for ten minutes, tops, before the guy on the left asked
the guy on the right “what time is it?” and the other guy broke into a song about
summertime.”

“Is this going to be a hindrance to completing work?” Dr. Brennan asked,

striding over to Hodgins’ area.

“It’s been a hindrance to my work, because let me tell you, there’s nothing
more uncontrollable than interns singing about their crises, especially when they
have a chorus and a band following them around. I still don’t know where the music
comes from…” Cam ranted as she followed them to see Hodgins. “So far, none of
our inner team has contracted the virus, and I am sincerely grateful for that fact.
However, I’m afraid that it’s just a matter of time. I was betting on Angela getting
the virus first, but now that she left, I don’t know who will fall prey to the virus.”

“How about you, Cam? Any urge to sing and dance?” Booth asked teasingly.

“Don’t start with me, Seeley,” she said angrily, pointing her finger in his face.
He held up his hands in surrender, still smiling.

“Hodgins, what can you tell me about particulates?” Brennan asked, taking
gloves out of the box at his station. Hodgins didn’t respond at all. Booth whistled,
then waved his hand in front of Hodgins’ face. Hodgins jumped, startled.

“Whoa! Sorry, you scared me a little there,” he exclaimed, taking out his
earplugs and putting them in a small, clear box. He turned to face them, grabbing a
folder and flipping it open. “I found shards of glass and ceramic located in her hand
and small pieces on her clothing. I’m still tracking down the glaze for the ceramic,
but the glass is from a common D-segment bifocal lens, found in any drugstore. The
shards of ceramic, however, are most likely from some type of ornamental beads.
My guess is that the victim grabbed the murder’s glasses that were hanging on a
beaded chain and then fell, causing the glasses to break and the ceramic beads to
shatter. I’ll know more if the test is ever completed on the ceramic.”
 “Who is tasked to run the test?” Brennan asked.

“I think it’s Cheryl, up in the lounge,” he said, pointing up to where three

women sat on one of the lounge’s couches and sang together, swaying in time with
some music that the people below couldn’t hear.

“She’s one of the worst,” Cam added, “Her boyfriend in Security just broke up
with her and before she caught the virus she was mopey, but now she’s mopey and
singing about it at every opportunity!”

“I’ll talk to her,” Brennan volunteered. Cam and Hodgins exchanged a glance
with each other, then gave Brennan a “good luck.” She strode off purposefully,
Booth close behind her.

“Hey guys,” Angela said as she walked up to Hodgins’ space at the foot of the
platform. She clipped her security card on her lab coat and buttoned up. “I hear that
the FBI brought me a phone to play with.”

“Yeah, they did, but I think they forgot to give it up when they came in,” Cam
said, looking over to the FBI techs who were now singing about cliques and their
feelings of inadequacy with three very geeky techs from the Jeffersonian. She
sighed, then gathered her patience and courage and walked over to the singing FBI
techs, her glare steely.

“You would not believe the sweet stories we heard at the Hoover building,”
she said to Hodgins, sighing as she thought back. “Have you found the vital clue
that breaks the case wide open yet?” she asked, letting her hip rest on his table.

“I’m not sure,” Hodgins answered. “You know me, I just offer up my evidence
like a good minion to the High and Holy Solvers of Crime.”

“Come on, Booth and Bren have to rank higher than just High and Holy.
Maybe the Supreme and Majestic Totally Hot Solvers of Crime,” Angela said
laughingly. Hodgins grinned, then turned as Cam came back triumphantly holding
the evidence bag with the cell phone.

“I’ll pull prints and particulates,” Hodgins said, taking the bag from Cam, “It
won’t take long. I’ll give the phone to you after I’m done with it.” Angela nodded,
watching as he pulled the rhinestone studded phone out of the bag and set it on a
tray.

“I’ll see if I can rig a power source since it’s missing its battery. Just drop it off
in my office,” she said, getting off Hodgins’ desk and moving to her office. Hodgins
watched her hips sway as she swaggered away, then smiled and shook his head,
turning back to the phone to begin examining and swabbing.
Chapter 8: The Invasion of the Virus

“It’s becoming extremely difficult to think in this atmosphere,” Brennan

commented to Booth as they walked back down the steps together. Booth looked
thoroughly spooked, turning his head at any mention of music or a dance move.
They walked into her office, but immediately stopped when they heard several of
Brennan’s graduate students who had come to review their papers with her singing
“Get Your Head in the Game.” Booth slowly backed away, hoping that slow
movements would be less likely to attract their attention.

“Excuse me,” Brennan said, pushing through their graceful choreography

that included the students dancing with skulls. “I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to
review your papers today due to a consultation with the FBI. However, I hope to be
in my office during regular office hours on Monday. Unless you schedule an
appointment with me before then, I’ll see you on Monday.” The music trailed off and
each student tucked their skull under their arm and headed out. Brennan called out
after them, “If you signed out anything from bone storage, please put it back. And
remember to stay in the quarantined parts of the lab. Thank you.”

Booth entered the office when he felt it was safe. The students were gone
and Bones was already at her computer. “When do you think we’ll be able to get
info on the cell phone?” he asked as Brennan scrolled through the x-rays on her
computer.

“Normally I would say that we would have all the information before the end
of the day, but that is looking less likely by the moment,” she responded. “We will
likely have any electronic information that Angela can pull from the phone long
before Hodgins will receive the results of his tests.” She squinted at the computer
screen and Booth smirked.

“Squint,” he said affectionately. She turned to look at him in confusion, but

quickly dismissed his outburst and turned back to the x-rays on the screen. Booth
sauntered over to stand behind her. “What are you looking at?” he asked out of
boredom.

“These are the x-rays of the right hand. See the glass shards, and their
placement? I’ll get Angela to run a simulation, but the way these shards are placed
suggests to me that she was holding the glasses in her hand, but not together with
the ceramic beads. The ceramic shards are on the outside of the right hand, and
there are few embedded in the skin. According to Hodgins’ report, the majority were
found on her shirt.”

“Well, the glasses are probably from the killer, because they’re bifocals, so an
18 year old wouldn’t need them, and if she was returning them when she was killed,
wouldn’t she have the chain and the glasses in her hand?”

“I don’t know. I don’t carry around bifocals for people,” Brennan said
absently, moving from the x-rays of the hand to the profile of her cranium. “The
angle of this fracture suggests that her neck was broken on impact.”

“She didn’t experience any pain,” Booth said softly. “It would have been
quick.”

“The fetus wouldn’t have experienced any pain, either,” Brennan added, her
voice not as professional as she wanted it to be.

“I would have thought this was an accident if she hadn’t been found in that
props container. And if it was accidental manslaughter, not first degree murder, why
cover it up like this? I mean, whoever it was had to know that the box would be
opened soon,” Booth thought out loud as he paced his partner’s office. “And I’m not
sure about the timeline, either,” he continued. Brennan swiveled in her chair to
watch him. “She came into the school on a Sunday afternoon. She talks to Zeke at
the school, and tells him that she doesn’t want the child because of some
opportunity that she has just learned about. A few hours later, she responds to her
twin brother with a text. If we see the time stamp of the text, we can pinpoint a
time that she was alive. But why would she stay at the school all day? Can Hodgins
narrow down the time of death with his bugs?”
 “I doubt it,” Brennan said, “I know that when it comes to time of death, he
always tries to be a specific as possible because our cases often rest on his
evidence. But we can go ask him.”

They moved over to Hodgins desk, Booth hovering over the divider and
Brennan stand professionally off to the side, waiting for Hodgins to notice her. He
noticed Booth first, and smiled at him, then turned to find his boss. He took out the
earplugs again. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

“Is there any way you could narrow down the time of death?” Booth asked,
picking up a pencil out of Hodgins’ “The Truth is Out There” mug where he kept
random things.

“Well, the presence of empty Calliphoridae puparia and rove beetles

indicates that she has been dead for over 20 days. The ratio of puparia to beetles
suggests 24 days, but there is a six hour margin of error. Due to my highly
developed techniques,” he paused and took a playful bow, “I would put time of
death between one and eight on Sunday three weeks ago.”

“So you can’t narrow it down any more?” Booth asked. He began tapping the
pencil against Hodgins’ workspace rhythmically.

“Sorry, man,” Hodgins said, watching as Angela approached. “Dude, the

tapping,” he said in annoyance.

“Yeah, sorry,” Booth said. He quit tapping and put the pencil back into the
mug.

“Hey Sweetie,” Angela said, waving at Brennan. “I rigged something that will
work in a pinch for a battery. I’m ready when Hodgins is.” Booth started drumming
with his fingers on the frosted glass divider that separated him from the rest of the
lab.
 “Booth, you’re still tapping,” Brennan commented. He stared at his hands in
horror, then exchanged a horrified look with Brennan and Hodgins. Angela grinned
from ear to ear.

“I’ll have the phone for you in a few minutes, Angela,” he said. They all
watched as Booth shoved his hands forcefully into his pocket to keep them from
betraying him.

“Angela, would you be able to tell when the battery was taken from the
phone?” Booth asked idly, watching Hodgins work. He swung his gaze over to
Angela and started tossing his poker chip into the air and catching it.

“Not after this long,” Angela responded. “You know, it’s getting harder and
harder to think around here,” she said, looking around the lab. Some interns,
including Mr. Vincent Nigel-Murray, were dancing up the stairs, singing something
about bopping to the top.

“Yeah, we’re getting nothing done. It’s getting worse, and who knows who
will be next…” Hodgins said mysteriously, laughing at Booth’s expression. Booth
began tapping the poker chip nervously on the glass. Hodgins was waiting for his
solvent to clear before he poured off the supernatant, and he thoughtlessly clinked
his glass stirring rod against the metal tray in time with Booth’s tapping. Angela
picked up the beat and began humming Sharpay’s version of “What I’ve Been
Looking For.” Suddenly she burst into lyrics.

It’s hard to complete

Our work when we sing

Hodgins joined her, singing,

Because we’re close in proximity.

 Wish I was alone

So we can woooork

Because Booth will shoot us.

Hodgins got up from his chair and took Angela’s hand. They began to dance
playfully together around Hodgins’ workspace. Booth had stopped tapping in
surprise and looked at them like they had grown several heads apiece. He was too
surprised to even move for his weapon. Hodgins burst into a solo, his arm thrown
out to the side in a wide dramatic gesture,

This feeling’s like no other…

Angela sang back,

I know what you mean!

Together they sang,

I’ve never had a job

That makes me feel brand new

The way you do!

Finally Brennan couldn’t stand it anymore. “I can’t complete anything with

this singing!” she exclaimed as she stormed off. Booth followed after her, glancing
nervously behind him at the duo still singing and dancing. As they left, Angela and
Hodgins heard the music fade. They stopped dancing, laughing at their antics, and
with a slow dawning awareness they noticed that Hodgins’ hand was caressing
Angela’s hip and Angela had her fingers curled in his short hair. They broke apart
suddenly, Hodgins turning back to his solution and Angela walking awkwardly back
to her office.
Chapter 9: The Love Bug

Hodgins stood nervously at the entrance of Angela’s office, watching Angela

as she worked at her computer. Some soft music started playing from a play list on
her computer, betraying Angela’s working as a façade. Squaring his shoulders and
trying desperately to look taller, he walked into her office. She turned when she
heard him.

“Hey Angela,” he said, his voice wavering. He cleared his throat and stepped
closer. He noticed the soft music and his lips quirked in a smile, “I thought rock was
more of your style,” he commented, “Influenced by your father, no doubt.”

“Yeah, this isn’t my usual style, but all those hot high school guys at the FBI
building made me horny, and I needed to calm down so I can not go crazy before
the six months of celibacy are over,” she replied. They shared an awkward moment,
then both rushed to fill the silence.

“So do you have…”

“I’m just here to…”

It broke the uncomfortable silence and they both smiled. Angela indicated
that he should go first. “Yeah, I just brought the phone for you to work on,” he said.
He held out the tray to her carefully with both hands.

“Thanks, Hodgie,” she said, holding her hands out for it. Their hands brushed
lightly as he set the tray into her waiting hands. They both paused, struck by the
feeling, their eyes gazing at each other from what seemed to be a great distance.
Slowly, Hodgins took the tray and set it on the table next to him as “Can I Have This
Dance” began playing on Angela’s play list. He took a deep breath, then held out his
hand. Idly he saw it wasn’t trembling like he expected, given the state of his nerves.

“Angela, can I have this dance?” he asked in a gentle voice. Angela hesitated
for a moment and Hodgins’ heart sank. He took another breath and started to sing
softly,

Here’s my hand

Breathe in deep

Move in my arms

Closer to me

Angela stepped into the circle of his arms nervously and they began to dance
lightly. They could see the fear in the other’s eyes, fear of losing the fragile balance
between them that they had achieved. Hodgins continued to sing,

With your eyes locked on mine

We will move just like the first time.

They were dancing now, and they moved together just as well as they always
had. Both Angela and Hodgins admitted in their minds that they had missed this
easiness, this sense of belonging they felt when they were together. Gathering her
courage, Angela started to sing to Hodgins,

With your hand in mine

A touch my heart won’t forget

As long as I’m by your side.

Together they danced and sang to each other, relieved smiles on both their
faces.
 As long as I’m singing

My heart will keep bringing

Me back to you.

With you right beside me

No one could deny

I am meant for you.

They continued to lose themselves in each other, singing of their love and
contentment at sharing their life together. Neither noticed Dr. Brennan standing in
the doorway of Angela’s office, watching and listening. Her smile was sad, almost
hopeless as she watched. She let her hand carrying the folders drop to her side and
she decided that what she held could wait.

Booth watched his partner as she watched Angela and Hodgins. He couldn’t
see her face, but he recognized the set of her shoulders. She was holding back
heartbreak. Her best friend and her colleague had found each other, and continued
to find each other. Hodgins was truly the “someone” for Angela, and the reverse
was true as well. And it seemed that their “someday” had come. He wished them all
the best, and hoped that it would work out this time.

And he knew that Bones felt the same way that he did about Angela and
Hodgins. They were happiest when they were together, not only as lovers, but also
as friends. When they had gone back to being simply colleagues after the intimacy
of being engaged, they were stifled, limited, even when they tried to tell themselves
that they were free. Angela and Hodgins’ happiness should have lifted Booth’s
heart, and Brennan’s heart as well, but Booth knew otherwise. Brennan ached for
what she thought she would never have.

After a few long moments of watching her friends fall back in love, Brennan
slowly turned, keeping her eyes on the floor. She stopped as she noticed Booth and
let her eyes move upwards to meet his. The pain and loneliness he saw in her eyes
surprised him. It seemed odd that she would share this ache with him, when she
was usually so closed off about her emotions. The openness lasted only for a few
seconds, then Brennan compartmentalized and Booth saw her professional mask
slip over her face.

“Angela and Hodgins seemed busy, and I’d rather not disturb them for
something I could do myself,” Brennan explained quietly. She and Booth made their
way back to her office to escape the noise that had been blessedly quiet during
their moment of emotionally-laden eye contact, but now blared full force again.

“They seem really happy,” Booth commented, at a loss for what to say. He
wanted to ease her pain, but felt so helpless against it. Brennan smiled a sad half-
smile.

“If I were Angela, I would be recording them and putting the video on the
tube.”

“I think you mean YouTube, Bones.”

“Whatever it is,” she said. Booth frowned a little, because usually his partner
would argue with everything he said. She never gave up that easily. Something else
was bothering her; she must still be thinking about how alone she was. Her next
words proved it. “Do you really think that there’s someone for everyone?” she
asked, looking down at her desk to avoid his eyes.

“Well…” he began hesitantly, “I believe that there are people who are meant
to be together for the long haul. I mean, everyone goes through stages in their
lives, and I don’t believe that a person will always recognize the one they’re
supposed to be with, but yeah. I do believe that there is someone for everyone.”

“And you believe that Angela and Hodgins are supposed to be together?” she
still wouldn’t look into his eyes. Booth sat on the arm of the couch so he could face
her while he was talking.
 “Yeah, Bones. I think Angela and Hodgins were meant for each other. They
balance each other, you know? They ground each other. Even though I would never
have put them together based on what I saw, they really do complete each other.”

“Sweets said that we complement each other,” Brennan whispered. She

looked into his eyes and Booth had to take a deep breath, like a swimmer before a
dive.

“Yeah,” he said simply. The clamor outside the office faded.

“How do you recognize who you’re supposed to be with?” she asked timidly,
but with her usual passion for the truth. She wanted to know, even though she
wasn’t certain that she would like the answer.

A thousand responses flew through Booth’s mind at her question, all of them
clichéd. He struggled with what to say. “I…I think it’s different with everyone. I
suppose you see the passion that they put into otherwise ordinary things. How they
can make you feel better with just a touch, or just their presence. How sometimes
you don’t have to say anything for them to know what you’re feeling. The way they
do little things for you that make you feel special.”

“But those are all things that a friend would do,” she said, almost pleadingly,
“Those are things that you do for me.” She stood, her posture agitated and her
forehead wrinkled. Booth slowly stood as well, but when he took a step toward her
desk, she stepped toward the door. She bit her lip, much like she had done after
they had found her mother’s body and confronted her killer. She asked her next
question in the same way she listed off the facts of her life in that old barn. He half
expected to see tears. “How can you know if a friend is the ‘someone you’re meant
to spend the rest of your life with’ or if he’s just a friend?”

“Bones,” he whispered, “You and me…it’s not…” He stopped, not knowing

how to continue. She flinched and avoided his eyes, completing his sentence in her
head, “…it’s not love.” The silence stretched until Brennan moved away from him,
opening the door. He couldn’t let her walk away and when “The Start of Something
New” began to play, he desperately started to sing,
 Working with you every day…

Brennan stopped, her hand on the doorframe, half in and half out of her
office. Besides the music and Booth’s singing, not a sound could be heard in the lab.
Booth continued, his voice rough with emotion,

Couldn’t see the light.

That you were there beside me

Through each and every fight.

He reached out and tenderly touched her arm. His touch released something
inside her and she began to sing back to him,

I’ve always been searching

For something I could believe.

I never saw the proof

That was right in front of me.

But now, I see in your eyes

The love that you have

And now I know…

He took her hand and she let her other hand rest on his shoulder as they
sang together,

Now I’ve found myself

In the heart of you

Never thought it could be

 But I’ve found it’s true.

Outside her office Mr. Vincent Nigel-Murray added, “Oohooooh…”

But now, with you by my side

I see your loooove…

Now I’ve found the truth.

As the music faded, Brennan let her arms circle his neck loosely and Booth
put his arms around her to draw her closer. They were both smiling like fools as
together they leaned in for a kiss. Everyone in the lab was surprised that the kiss
wasn’t accompanied by a dramatic swell of music, but looking at them, they didn’t
need the dramatic music. They were more than enough drama as it was.
Chapter 10: The Aftermath of Love

When they broke apart the entire lab broke out into cheers, whistles and
applause. Booth and Brennan didn’t see or hear any of it as they let their foreheads
rest together. Brennan had never been so happy and told Booth that as she let her
hand caress his face. Her other hand was securely in his and he brought it up to kiss
the backs of her knuckles.

“I love you, Bones,” he whispered. She smiled sweetly and pulled his face
down to his so their lips could meet. Booth smiled into the kiss and they both
laughed into the other’s mouth in sheer relief.

“Ahhhhh! I can’t believe I missed it!” Angela screamed as she ran over to
them, dragging Hodgins behind her. Her hair was messed up and Hodgins’ shirt was
buttoned crookedly and untucked. Their lab coats were nowhere to be seen.
“Sweetie, I’m so happy for you!” she gushed. Brennan and Angela half hugged, not
wanting to let go of their loved ones hands for a moment.

While the girls hugged with their free arms, Booth and Hodgins gave each
other a manly nod. “The virus caught you, too, hunh?” Hodgins said, smirking a
little bit at the special agent. Booth gave him a sheepish smile.

“Yeah, it just came out, you know?” he admitted with embarrassment as

Angela began to interrogate Brennan on how they finally admitted the truth to each
other.

“Tell me about it,” Hodgins commiserated. “I wanted Angela to know how I

felt, but I didn’t want a dance scene to go with it!”

“I wasn’t planning on announcing it to the entire Jeffersonian,” Booth

groaned.
 “Even worse than that is the fact that all the security feeds in the Jeffersonian
Medico-Legal lab are transmitted live to the FBI headquarters.”

“WHAT?!” Booth shouted. Brennan and Angela turned in surprise to see what
Booth was so upset about. Brennan grabbed his hand with both of her hands.

“What’s wrong, Booth?” she asked, caressing his knuckles with her thumbs.

“Did you know that the FBI is watching us through the security cameras right
now?” Booth asked, a little bit panicked.

“Of course I knew, Booth. I actually told you about it and you said it was a
good idea. Why are you so upset about it?” she answered soothingly.

“Everyone just saw our little…confession,” Booth whispered harshly.

“Is it a…problem for you…? I mean, to have people know about…us?”

Brennan asked hesitantly. Her shy, insecure question pulled at Booth’s heart and he
placed his hand on her cheek, tilting her face up to his.

“No, of course it’s not a problem,” he reassured her, letting his fingers
wander into her hair. “I don’t care who knows that I love you. I just want to keep
some things private, just between us.”

“It’s not like we had sex in the middle of my office, Booth,” she said bluntly.
Booth groaned and rolled his eyes. Angela and Hodgins smirked at each other, both
because of the infamous security tape that they had starred in and because this
argument was so typical of Booth and Brennan.
 “I know, Bones, but I would rather have had our first declarations of love to
be special, rather than just thrown out for the world to see.”

“I thought it was special,” she confessed softly, looking into his eyes. She let
go of his hand to place her hands on his chest, framing his tie, “It took a lot of
courage for you to begin singing in front of an audience without having any
concrete proof that I would reciprocate your feelings. And it was very beautiful,
even though you don’t have a very good singing voice.”

“Thanks a lot, Bones,” he said sarcastically, but his smile was gentle, rather
than mocking, and his eyes were sparkling with happiness. He let his hands fall from
her elbows to lightly rest on her hips and draw her closer to him. She stroked his tie
once, then let her hands slide over his shoulders and behind his neck.

“And it will be easier for me to lay claim to you when we have proof of our
relationship broadcast at both of our places of work,” she said with a smile.

“Lay claim?” he teased, letting his forehead touch hers as he trailed his
hands over her back.

“Yes, anthropologically speaking, it is customary for a person in a relationship

to publicly lay claim to the other person in the relationship, typically by an
exchange of goods.”

“That sounds ridiculous,” he argued with a smile.

“One example is the exchange of wedding rings,” she protested. “But since I
think marriage is an outdated ritual that limits legal and personal rights, I won’t lay
claim to you that way. But a public display like this will work well enough for now,”
she said as she kissed him. He was surprised, but responded quickly, running his
hands up and down her spine and letting one hand move into her silky hair.
 “They are HOT!” Angela exclaimed, fanning herself with her free hand. “It’s
rather inspiring, don’t you think?” she asked Hodgins suggestively.

“Yeah, it is!” he agreed, “And they also won me 200 dollars from Sweets!”

“You’re thinking about money at a time like this?!” Angela exclaimed in

disbelief. She smacked him playfully on the arm and then kissed him when he
pouted.

“All right! Enough!” Cam shouted. “This is a forensics lab, for Heaven’s sake!
Can we act like professionals?”

Booth and Brennan broke apart guiltily. Angela and Hodgins showed no guilt
at all as they continued to kiss. They finished their kiss after several moments and
turned to Cam, completely unrepentant.

“We need to get back to work, people. We have a girl and her baby who need
us to find their killer and give them justice. That’s what we do here. We aren’t a
group of traveling singers!” Cam ranted.

“I…I was just waiting on the results of Hodgins’ tests,” Brennan explained
hurriedly. “There’s very little I can do with a body with this much flesh on it.”

“Yeah, and I can’t do much without Bones,” Booth inserted. Cam glared at
him and he hid behind Bones. “Cam always gets grumpy when she catches the
virus,” he whispered loudly to Brennan. Angela giggled and Hodgins tried, but
failed, to contain a snorting chuckle. Brennan just looked interested.

“Where have you contracted the virus before?” she asked Cam.
 “I lived in New York. There the virus is practically a childhood disease,” she
responded with attitude. “Now, if you don’t get back to work in the next two
minutes, I will fire every last one of you!” she exclaimed. Booth looked like he was
about to say something and Cam pounced, “That includes you, Seeley,” she
snarled. Booth closed his mouth, then turned his attention to Brennan.

“Come on, Bones, lets go through the props again,” he said, pulling at her lab
coat. She still looked like she was going to protest, so he steered her into her office,
away from Cam.

“But the FBI technicians have already been through all that,” she complained
as she let Booth pull her lab coat off her shoulders and hang it on the coat rack.

“Yeah, but it never hurts to look again,” he said, replacing the lab coat for her
jacket. “We’ll just go for an hour or so to look around, then come back and check to
make sure everyone’s still alive.”

“Technically, we’ve contracted the virus, so we should be quarantined,” she

said as he pushed her out of her office with his hand on her lower back. “And don’t
push me around,” she complained, slapping his arm away from her. He grinned and
engulfed her in a huge bear hug. Brennan squawked and protested, but the grin on
her face told everyone that she didn’t really mean it. Eventually she did find the will
in her to push him away from her, but she grabbed his hand before whispering in
his ear, “But I know a back way out of here that isn’t patrolled by security.”

“Sounds good to me,” he whispered back. His warm breath on her ear made
her shiver pleasantly, and her smile as he swung their clasped hands was very
beautiful.

They managed to sneak out of the Jeffersonian easily, but with a lot of stops
in the hallways to “make sure no one was coming” where he would pull her against
him and kiss her neck, her cheeks, her forehead and her lips. He claimed that it was
an old spy trick to scope out a place. Brennan bluntly told him that she didn’t
believe what he had said, but she was willing to try everything once…or eight times.
They finally made their way across the Jeffersonian gardens to the parking garage
and drove to the theater.
Chapter 11: Compromise and Case Work

“We have to maintain professionalism during working hours,” Brennan

informed Booth calmly as Booth flashed his badge at the crime scene and held the
yellow tape for Brennan to duck under.

“Normal working hours, or your working hours, Bones?” Booth asked,

attempting to clarify the situation and casting her longing glances that she chose to
ignore.

“Working hours are defined by being the hours that I am at work, so it’s
obviously my working hours, Booth,” she said in a snotty tone of voice.

“You know, it always makes me want to kiss you when you use that uppity
tone,” Booth growled into her ear. She shivered at his words and at his low, husky
voice.

“That isn’t professional,” she replied breathlessly, staring straight ahead. She
knew that if she looked at Booth, she would see the predatory look that made her
want for him almost unbearable. She had always loved the thrill that went through
her when he cornered her, just as he had done at the firing range at the beginning
of their partnership. She couldn’t help but challenge him then, and couldn’t resist it
now. “And if you were a good cop, you’d be able to maintain professionalism while
you’re on duty,” she baited.

“Oh, I’m the best cop you’ll ever know, Temperance,” he whispered into her
ear, bracketing her hips with his hands, “But I’m a lover and a fighter, Bones, and I
refuse to compartmentalize the two when it comes to you.”

The effect of his breath on her ear to her peripheral nervous system became
noticeable by Booth. Her pupils dilated, her breathing grew shallow and rapid, and
her skin broke out into goosebumps. He kissed the back of her ear, smiling, and
rubbed his hands up and down her arms lightly, stirring the short hairs that were
standing up there.

“We need to get to work,” she protested, her voice more breathy and less
firm than she wanted it to be. Footsteps down the hall warned them that someone
was coming and Booth backed away from his partner with a last touch of his hand
to her hair.

“Excuse me, but we’re trying to wrap things up here,” a young man in a blue
windbreaker said as he rounded the corner and saw them. Booth stepped ahead of
Brennan and pulled out his badge.

“Special Agent Seeley Booth, and this is my partner…”

“Dr. Temperance Brennan,” she interrupted, fumbling with her bag slung
over her shoulder.

“…and we’d like another look at the scene, please,” Booth continued.

“Oh,” the young tech said, blinking up at the duo, “Of course, Agent Booth.
But we’ve transported the evidence of the crime away already.”

“In the time I’ve spent working with squints, the one thing I’ve learned that
there is always more evidence if you know where to look,” Booth said as he
escorted Brennan past the young man.

“That’s all you’ve learned, Booth?” Brennan asked teasingly.

“Well, that and a few other things, but I’m sure that we don’t have the time
to tell the kid all that I’ve learned from working with you,” he whispered into her
ear. She giggled and he grinned because he loved seeing her happy.
 “I think we can agree that our partnership has been mutually beneficial,” she
stated.

“Yep. You could almost say that our relationship is symbiotic,” Booth said,
proud that he could make her smile broaden with his scientific word. He hoped he
could make her smile that way for the rest of their lives.

“And if you really did learn only one thing from working closely with
scientifically minded professionals, I suppose that principle would be satisfactory,”
she admitted.

“See there, Bones? What did I tell you? We’re good for each other,” he said
cheerfully, pulling her closer. She stiffened her body and Booth chuckled, then
released her. “Message received, Bones. No PDA. Got it.”

Brennan fished around in her bag for her blue latex gloves and pulled them
on as soon as she found them. “I don’t know what that means,” she said vaguely as
she examined the empty stage.

“Com’on Bones, you don’t know PDA? I thought Angela would have taught
you that for sure! It stands for Public Displays of Affections, like touching and
kissing in a public place.”

“Now that you’ve said that, I do recall Cam saying a phrase containing that
acronym in reference to Angela and Hodgins the first time they started dating.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Booth said to the ceiling.

“Probably because you know the personalities in our lab very well, so the
actions of Angela, Hodgins and Cam cease to surprise you.”
 “Rhetorical, Bones.”

“Oh. Well, sometimes it’s very hard to tell when you want an answer, Booth,”
she said defensively. She noticed Booth looking to the ceiling and looked up as well
as she followed him up the stairs to the stage. Brennan smirked as she noticed that
Booth was squinting up at the lights, but she didn’t comment.

“Hey, Bones,” he called, walking over to center stage, “How high does that
look to you?” He pointed up to the narrow walkway that allowed access to the lights
above the stage. Although it was a small college auditorium, the ceiling was high to
allow for special effects, and Booth and Brennan’s eyes met, both thinking the same
thought.

“It looks about twenty to twenty-five feet high to me,” Brennan responded.
They both turned their attention to the edge of the stage where it dropped into the
orchestra pit.

“And I’d guess that the floor is about ten feet lower than the stage,” Booth
said quietly.

“I could get Angela to run a simulation,” Brennan said, taking out her phone
to call her.

“Yeah, and I’ll call the local field office in Albuquerque and tell them to check
the East High theater for blood, prints, and whatever else they can find,” Booth
said, dialing the number. They parted to speak on their phones and after they were
done, they continued to search the area.

“I’m not sure what we would be able to find here,” Brennan admitted several
minutes later. “Logically, the crime scene would be in the school auditorium, not
here.”
 “Who could have done it, Bones? I mean, it could have been anyone, really,”
Booth said in frustration, sitting on the steps to the stage. Brennan sat beside him.

“Well, not anyone, of course,” Brennan corrected. “They would have had to
be in the school at the time of the murder.”

“Did Angela get anything off the phone?” he asked. She nodded.

“Yes, she said that the time stamp on the last activity on the phone was at
4:45 Sunday evening. It was a text message to her brother. No other activity was on
the phone, and Angela believes that the battery was taken out after that text.
Hodgins didn’t retrieve any prints, and he’s still working on particulates.” Brennan
worked on placing everything in her field kit back where it belonged.

“It’s gotta be someone in this play,” Booth said emphatically. He slid closer to
Brennan and put a hand on her thigh. She promptly removed his hand and stood up,
with Booth following her soon after.

“Come on, Bones! Compromise with me. I can’t keep my hands off you the
entire time we work because, let’s face it, you’re hot. But I promise I’ll keep my
hands to myself when we’re around other people, OK?” Booth whined. Brennan
flushed at the praise, but continued up the stairs and went into the wings where
most of the props were stored. “Bones, please, just be reasonable!” he said in
aggravation. She stopped and turned to him.

“Booth, I think I am being reasonable,” she snapped, stepping closer to him.

“One of the reasons that I…that I fell in love with you was because you understand
my job,” she stated in a low voice, her face and tone completely serious. “And you
understand how important my job is to me. It’s not just something I do to make
money, but rather my passion, or maybe my calling, although that term carries
religious connotations that could be misleading. I can’t allow myself to be distracted
while I’m working, and that is what you would be doing if we engaged in physical
intimacy while I tried to concentrate on the cases we work.”
 “Geez, Bones, you make it sound like we’re having sex on the floor,” Booth
grumbled. However, his gaze was softer and his attitude seemed less frustrated.
“But I understand what you’re saying and I have to admit, it’s very flattering,” he
said, his tone understanding and teasing. “You think I’m distracting.”

“I do not…!”

“Nuh uh, Bones, you can’t lie to me. You just said that my touching you is
distracting you from doing your job.”

“Well, it obviously affects you as well. I saw how your eyes glazed over when
you touched me,” Brennan retorted. Booth just smiled wider.

“I’m surprised you could see my expression through the glaze over your own
eyes!” he teased. “Besides, I’ve had problems consciously restraining myself from
touching your beautiful body since the day I met you, and holding myself back all
the time is just as distracting as letting myself touch you.”

“Oh, so that’s why you invented ‘guy hugs,’” Brennan said, nodding wisely.

“You’re darn right, that’s why. I mean, guys don’t hug it out. We punch it
out,” Booth said proudly. Brennan punched him solidly in the arm. “Ouch! What was
that for?!”

“For lying to me,” she said as she walked away. “And just consider that a
‘guy hug.’”

“You’re very vindictive, you know,” he groused as he followed her further into
the wings to check the rest of the props. His phone rang and he snapped it open,
saying, “Booth.”
 Brennan listened to his conversation as she picked through the trunks, boxes,
and bags holding all the play’s set pieces and props. When he finished, she turned
to him questioningly.

“That was Albuquerque field office. They had a group of techs check it out
and found blood on the stage, the floor of the orchestra pit, and the piano,” he told
her. “I told them to send the pictures to Angela so that she could recreate the scene
on her fancy machine.”

“That’s good,” she said absently. She was looking off stage down the hall and
Booth followed her gaze. The FBI technician in the blue windbreaker that they had
spoken to was arguing with a young woman. As she turned towards them, gesturing
in their direction, Booth recognized her.

“Isn’t that the girl in the play whose boyfriend is Ryan Evans, the victim’s
brother?” Booth asked. Brennan frowned and concentrated on the figure who looked
very agitated that the FBI tech was obstructing her way to the stage.

“Booth,” she said, tugging his jacket sleeve. “She wears her glasses on a
chain.”

“You know, she did interrupt Ryan’s questioning,” Booth said as he held her
hand to keep her from pulling on his sleeve. “And she pointed her finger at Troy
Bolton.”

“She seems very anxious and eager to get into the set material,” Brennan
commented, “Even though there are no personal items stored back here that I know
of.”

“And I’m pretty sure that it was mentioned in the victim’s file that Kelsi was
chosen for a prestigious scholarship rather than Sharpay, so that could have built
animosity between them,” Booth said. He continued decisively, “I’ll bring her in for
questioning.”
Chapter 12: Revelations

The FBI building was buzzing as Booth and Brennan moved towards the
interrogation room. Booth received whistles and winks and a few crude gestures.
Several people who looked vaguely familiar to Brennan offered congratulations, but
more people just said “finally” with huge grins on their faces.

“What’s going on?” Brennan asked her partner as they moved onto the
elevator. They were alone for the time being, though Booth had to use his steely
death glare to make sure a few of the junior agents didn’t follow them into the
elevator car. Booth sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“I think they know that we finally got together,” he explained. “I’ve heard
that there is a betting pool going around on whether or not we were dating and if
we weren’t, when would we first get together, where would it be, and stuff like
that.”

“Our private lives are the subject of a betting pool?” she said, looking
appalled at the notion, “How…unprofessional.”

“If I knew who ran the pool, I’d squash it, but I have no idea who’s behind it.
Rumors are that it goes all the way to the top,” he said grumpily.

“The top of what?” she asked innocently.

“The top of the food chain, Bones.” He held up his hand to stop her before
she could elaborate on exactly what was the top of the food chain in any specific
ecosystem. “What I mean is that they think the Deputy Director of the FBI himself is
in on it. In fact, I know that Cullen is part of it. Most people agree that the reason he
assigned us to therapy with Sweets was to get inside information on our
relationship.”

Brennan was intrigued as the elevator came to a halt and the door opened.
The hallway was much calmer and quieter now that the quarantine had taken effect
and the people who had the music virus were cleared out.

“Do you think that Sweets would disregard doctor-patient confidentiality by

informing Cullen of our relationship status?” she asked. Booth looked stormy, his
face annoyed and angry.

“I don’t know, Bones. I mean, he has acted pretty unprofessional before. He

even experimented on us like we were lab rats. I could believe anything of him at
this point.”

“That seems very irrational. The word ‘anything’ covers too broad of a
spectrum of behaviors for me to believe ‘anything’ of Sweets,” Brennan said
thoughtfully. “But you were speaking in hyperbole,” she said as Booth turned to her
with an exasperated look on his face. “I think I see your point. Sometimes Sweets
will act professionally and with decorum, but other times he will react to a situation
in an entirely unpredictable manner.”

“You got it, Bones,” he agreed. “But if Sweets had anything to do with the
betting pool, I’ll shoot him in the kneecaps.”

“That seem unwise, Booth,” Brennan said in alarm. “The FBI would consider
that to be unwarranted violence and they would take away your badge and gun.”

“I wouldn’t really kneecap him,” Booth said, nudging Brennan’s hip with his,
“But Sweets doesn’t know that, not if you don’t tell him.”

They entered the observation room together, Booth’s hand on her back as
always, ushering her into the room in front of him. Sweets was already standing at
the window, watching Kelsi make invisible patterns on the table in the interrogation
room. He greeted them with a big, knowing smile.

“Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan,” he welcomed them, grinning from ear to ear.
“How are you?”

“We’re good, Sweets,” Booth said brusquely, pushing past him to glance
through the window.

“I could question her, Agent Booth,” Sweets offered with a hopeful smile.
Booth just put an earpiece in and handed the other to Brennan.

“Don’t bother, Sweets,” he said condescendingly, “Just leave the cop work to
the grownups.”

“But…” Sweets protested as they left. The slam of the door cut him off.
“Lame!” he said to himself, “And I thought that them getting together would totally
mellow him!”

Booth and Brennan entered the interrogation room, no traces of their

annoyance at Sweets apparent. Booth introduced himself and his partner as they
sat down, and Kelsi’s eyes lit up as she recognized Brennan’s name from her books.
However, before she could ask Brennan for an autograph, Booth began questioning.

“Miss Neilson, will you please explain why you were at the crime scene,”
Booth told Kelsi as they sat across the table from her.

“Well, not the actual crime scene,” Brennan corrected.

 “Bones!” Booth whispered out of the corner of his mouth, hiding his words
from Kelsi with the back of his hand, “What did we agree on about correcting me in
front of suspects?”

“This doesn’t undermine your credibility, Booth. It just states the facts,” she
whispered back, using the folder to hide behind. Booth shot her an annoyed look
with narrowed eyes, then turned back to Kelsi, who glanced from one partner to the
other, extremely confused.

“I was just there to get some of my music. I’d left it in the back when we were
unloading props.”

“With the play cancelled, why would you need your music?” Brennan asked.

“I’ve been composing something for Ryan. Something special. And I thought
I’d play what I had for him, because of…well, you know. With his sister and all. I was
hoping that everyone could come and take our minds off of everything.”

“That’s very nice of you to think of your friends like that,” Brennan
commented softly. Kelsi gave a small, shy smile and adjusted her glasses on her
nose.

“Where were you on Sunday afternoon three weeks ago?” Booth asked,
sitting up straighter and leaning forward to better watch her facial expressions.

“I went to the school to compose. It’s quieter than at my house, and there’s
better equipment there.”

“Who did you see there?” he questioned.

 “Oh, a bunch of us were there, you know?” she said airily, “Sharpay’s car was
there, and Zeke’s. I knew that because I parked in the lot behind the drama
building. I never saw either of them. Ms. Darbus was there. She let me into the
building. I don’t remember there being anyone else, although there were cars that I
didn’t recognize in the student lot.”

“Do you think you could describe them for me?” he coaxed, clicking his pen
and holding it above his pad of paper.

Kelsi shook her head. “No, I don’t even remember how many there were, you
know? I just knew that there were more than I thought there would be on a Sunday.
Usually when I go, I have the place to myself, but there were more cars in the lot
than I thought there would be. I remember wondering if there was a special event or
something taking place.”

“Did you ever go into the auditorium at any time on Sunday afternoon?”
Brennan interjected after Kelsi stopped talking.

“Yes, I was there for a short time. I was using the piano on stage before I
moved into one of the rooms in the back. It helps me compose sometimes if I listen
to the acoustics on stage. There’s just such a resonance on stage that you don’t get
anywhere else.”

“Well, actually…” Brennan began. Booth interrupted quickly before she could
launch into an explanation about how the acoustics could be duplicated in certain
buildings or something like that.

“But you didn’t see Sharpay Evans while you were in the auditorium?” Booth
asked for clarification.

“No. Like I said, I saw her car outside, but I never saw her.”
 “May I see your glasses?” Brennan asked. Kelsi looked very confused, but she
nodded and handed her glasses over to Brennan. She took them in her gloved
hands and held them up to the light.

“These aren’t D-segment bifocals, Booth,” she said to him. “And there seems
to be a protective coating on these glasses. Hodgins didn’t find any trace of a
protective layer on the shards.” She handed the glasses back to Kelsi.

“You said that you thought there might be a special event. Did you find out
why so many people were there on that day?” Booth asked.

“Ms. Darbus said something about going to a staff meeting, so I guess that’s
what it was,” Kelsi said with a shrug.

“Ms. Darbus…?” Booth said questioningly. He turned to Brennan, who

returned his look knowingly. He turned back to Kelsi with a purposeful manner and
asked, “How did she seem to you?”

“What do you mean?” Kelsi asked in confusion.

“Did she seem angry or distracted? Was she speaking faster or slower than
usual? Anything you can tell us might help,” Booth explained carefully.

“Well, she did look a little nervous, but she’s always a little bit nervous. Or
maybe just a little too into everything, you know? She was in a hurry, so we didn’t
talk or anything. She had to go to her meeting.” She looked from one partner to the
other nervously, then asked, “Why? What’s going on? I mean, you don’t think that
Ms. Darbus had anything to do with Sharpay’s…death, do you? Not Ms. Darbus!”

“We have to look at every avenue of investigation, Miss Neilson,” Brennan

assured her. She and Booth got up to exit the room, leaving Kelsi confused and
worried inside. Booth pushed Brennan out the door as music began playing softly in
the interrogation room.
 They pushed open the door to the observational room down the hall and only
Brennan’s quick reflexes kept her from taking a flying kick to the face as Hodgins
completed a back flip off the wall. She tumbled backwards into Booth and he
steadied her as she watched Sweets come out of a spin. He stopped cold at seeing
Booth and Brennan standing in the doorway.

“Dr. Brennan! Agent Booth!” Sweets exclaimed, “I was just…um…SPIDERS!!”

he screamed, slapping at his arms and spinning around again.

“Dude!” Hodgins yelled, “Don’t kill spiders! They’re an important part of the
ecosystem in the area, and besides, they’re totally awesome, too.” Sweets stopped
spinning and beating at his chest and quietly patted his hair back into place before
finally looked back at them, shamefaced. He cleared his throat, smoothing down his
tie and putting on his professional face. Hodgins smirked at him, then faced
Brennan and Booth.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Booth yelled angrily, poking Hodgins in
the chest forcefully. “You could have killed Bones! Why are you in here doing flips
and frickin’ gymnastics?! And you were clearly dancing, Sweets. I mean, what are
you, the Backstreet Boys?!”

Hodgins was pushed back a step from Booth’s shoving. “Hey, man, quit with
the poking! I was just…” he trailed off, looking embarrassed, “Um…me and Sweets
were just…um…SPIDERS!”

Booth and Brennan looked very confused at the guys’ behavior, but Brennan
quickly pulled their focus back to the case. “Hodgins, are you here for a reason?”
she asked.

“Oh, yeah. We got results on the cell phone. I pulled a partial print off the
battery. It turns out that we got a match.”
 “A prior record?” Brennan asked, taking the folder that he grabbed from the
table and handed to her.

“No, she is registered as a teacher in a public school,” Hodgins clarified

seriously.

“That’s enough for a warrant for an arrest,” Booth said grimly. “Let’s go,
Bones.”
Chapter 13: Confessions

After a few inquiries, Booth and Brennan found themselves at the community
college auditorium. The theater was empty except for the cast of High School
Musical on the front few rows. As they walked down the aisle of the auditorium their
bodies became difficult to move and both Brennan and Booth felt like they were
moving through mud.

“Whhhhhhhhaaaaaaaatttttttt’sssss
hhhhaaaaaaappppppppppeeeeeeennnnnniiiing?” Booth asked, his voice drawing
out every syllable.

“Oh no! They’re in slow motion! It must be really important,” Chad whispered
loudly to the group. Everyone exchanged worried glances as Booth and Brennan
moved slowly down the aisle as Brennan’s hair and Booth’s jacket blew in an
invisible wind that only touched the two of them.

They reached the front rows as silence fell across the small crowd. Ryan
stood up, looking anxious and depressed. Kelsi passed Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan
and stood by Ryan, holding his hand. Gabriella held Zeke’s hand, while the guys
patted his shoulders in compassion.

“Do you have anything?” Ryan asked them as they stepped in front of the
close knit group. Booth nodded gravely, then turned to face Ms. Darbus, who was
sitting in the folding chair with her handkerchief twisted in her hands. She looked up
at them, and her face was tortured, drawn, and gray. She looked almost relieved as
Booth and Brennan turned to her with grim looks.

“Agatha Darbus, I have a warrant for your arrest,” Booth began. “You have
the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a
court of law,” he recited as he gripped Ms. Darbus’ arm and helped her stand.

“No!” Taylor shouted, “You’ve made a mistake. It can’t be Ms. Darbus!”

 “Witnesses place you at the scene of the crime at the time of Sharpay’s
death,” Brennan said to Ms. Darbus authoritatively. “The shards of glass match the
type of glasses that are around your neck, and the ceramic beads are similar to
those on the chain that you’re wearing.”

“Also, a partial print was found on the battery of Sharpay’s cell phone,” Booth
said as he brought out his handcuffs. “It matches the prints on file with the school.”

“Ms. Darbus?” Troy asked in confusion. She looked at him sadly.

“It was an accident,” she protested to her horrified students. “I didn’t mean
for it to happen!” The students looked at her with angry expressions, and it seemed
to draw out Ms. Darbus’ anger as well.

“I never meant for it to go that far! It just happened, and I knew that if
anyone found out…” Ms. Darbus’ voice trailed off as “Fabulous” began playing in
the auditorium. Booth let Ms. Darbus walk down the aisle, knowing that she couldn’t
get away if she decided to run. Ms. Darbus began to sing her confession:

It’s out with the old

And in with the new.

I worked so hard

But they never stayed true.

Drama was nothing

Before I was here

But Sharpay comes along

And I’m gone without a tear.

Excuse me?
 Booth had been putting his cuffs onto Ms. Darbus’ wrists, but let go and let
her finish her song.

Thank you.

I want everything

To be just as it was

I want everything

But it’s now a lost cause

I didn’t mean to go that far

To get me what I want

I want some drama in my life

Is that so wrong?

The music ended and she stood in front of the stage, looking at her students
that she spent so much time with. “Sharpay was going to replace you as the drama
teacher?” Zeke asked, his face tear streaked. “That must have been her big news
that she was talking about.”

“She was so talented,” Ryan said quietly. “She would have done well.”

“I’ve been working at that school for fifteen years and because of stupid
budget cuts they replace me with a girl that barely finished high school!” Ms.
Darbus screeched. Her face was splotched red and white from crying and her
mascara was running down her cheeks. “Drama is my life. They were trying to take
away my life! She climbed up to the catwalk to gloat and tell me that I could assist
her. Assist her?! Who does she think she is? She began singing about how she
would change everything when I was gone, and I just pushed her. She grabbed my
glasses as she fell. But I never meant to hurt her.”
 Booth was surprised that her flighty voice didn’t change as she confessed.
She still had the same dramatic flair, even as she was being arrested for murder. He
took Ms. Darbus and placed the handcuffs on her. She went without a struggle,
beginning to cry as she was taken away. Her former students spread out in the aisle
and the music of “Walk Away” began playing. Ms. Darbus began singing as she was
ushered through her students:

I guess I should have known better

To think I could have gotten away

Zeke started singing, pointing at Ms. Darbus accusingly:

You took my love away foreveeeer

When we finally found each other

Ryan began to sing, with Troy and Chad backing him up:

I can’t believe you tried to fool us.

My sister’s life was traded for your selfishness.

All the students began singing together, helping each other with their
harmony:

We’ll only survive if we stay together

(If we stay)

You walk away

Only don’t come back.

Cause you broke our hearts

 Now Sharpay won’t come back.

So just walk away.

Brennan and Booth escorted Ms. Darbus to the waiting squad car. She was
crying in earnest now, sobbing violently. “I didn’t mean to hurt her,” she moaned
before Booth closed the door. He slapped the top of the car to signal that she was
ready to go and the D C police officer drove off.

“Do you think she’ll get off on manslaughter?” Brennan asked him.

“I don’t know, Bones,” he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He
smiled when she leaned into him without protest as they walked towards the SUV.
“It would depend on the jury, I suppose. She did try to cover it up, which will look
bad when it goes to trial. And the jury will sympathize with a pregnant young
woman who was getting her first job more than they will sympathize with an older,
eccentric woman who was trying to serve her own interests.”

“Although by most accounts, Sharpay was an unpleasant person to be

around, I don’t believe she deserved to die so young,” Brennan said sadly. “I’m glad
that we were able to provide answers for her family and friends.” Booth pulled her
tighter against his side as they reached the SUV and turned her to face him.

“I love your heart,” he said gruffly. “I love the way you care about the victims
we see. I love how you pour yourself into your job because you know your job
matters. It makes you so beautiful.” His hand cupped the back of her head as her
hand caressed his cheek. Her eyes were shining and surprised. “You don’t have to
look so surprised, Bones,” he whispered over her jaw, reading her expression
perfectly. “Why did you think I loved you?” he asked softly.

“We work together very closely, Booth. We have become very good friends,
in my opinion. And I am a reasonably attractive female,” she answered as he
stroked her hair and let his other hand splay possessively at the small of her back.
“Anthropologically speaking, it is entirely logical that because of your status as an
alpha male, you would seek a mate that has alpha female characteristics.” He
smiled at her self-satisfied tone, his upturned lips touching her neck lightly. He
inhaled deeply, taking in her scent as he finally kissed her neck the way he had
wanted to since he had seen her talking with Sean Cook early in their partnership.

“You certainly are an alpha female, Bones. The crème de la crème, as it

were,” he said as he kissed along her neck to her jaw. She impatiently turned her
head so that his next kiss fell directly on her lips. He obliged her, kissing her deeply
until her body was pressed against the door and Brennan’s knees were so shaky
that she was glad that she had the support that the vehicle gave her. They finally
pulled away slightly as Booth leaned his head against hers, holding onto her hips to
steady himself as well as her.

“I love you, Temperance Brennan,” he said softly, seriously. “I love you with
all my heart. It would take a lifetime of words to tell you all the reasons that I love
you.”

“Well,” she said teasingly, stroking his tie and caressing his strong shoulder,
“I suppose you’ll just have to use the life we have together to tell me.”

“That sounds perfect,” he whispered. They shared a quick kiss, knowing that
they couldn’t let themselves get carried away in a public place. He unlocked the
doors and held her door open until she got in, then jogged happily over to the
driver’s side.

“I’m hungry,” Booth complained as they drove out of the parking lot. “And I
know you have to be hungry, too because you only had one of those protein bars
that taste like sawdust mixed with cocoa powder pounded into a disgusting rubbery
paste.”

“They’re very filling!” Brennan exclaimed, “And they have an acceptable

amount of protein per calorie ratio that complements the nutritional requirements
of my diet.”
 “Whatever, Bones,” he said, waving her protests away airily. “I still say that
you need real food, so we’re making a stop at the diner before we go home to finish
the paperwork.”

“I suppose that would be satisfactory,” she said, locking her seatbelt in place.
“I would like to eat something soon, and I know that you need more calories than I
do because you have more muscle mass and therefore a higher metabolism than I
do. Although you should stop filling up on empty calories like pie.”

“Hey! Don’t knock my pie. I look forward to it all day. Just let me have my
little pleasures,” he protested with a smile as he thought of another little pleasure
he would love to try. Stretching out his hand towards her, he was thrilled as she
slipped her smaller hand into his larger, more callused hand and squeezed
affectionately. He would forgo any amount of pie for the simple pleasure of her
hand in his.
Epilogue

“You know, you were kind of mean to Hodgins and Sweets during this case,
Booth,” Brennan said as she ate a spoonful of her vegetable soup. She sipped her
water, looking over her glass at Booth, who was toying with his meatloaf. He
chopped at his food with his fork, refusing to look at her.

“Aww, they know I’m just kidding around, Bones,” he said, spearing a green
bean and eating it before looking at his partner.

“I doubt it,” she stated, blowing lightly on her soup to cool it. Booth tapped
his fork on his plate in agitation.

“I mean, it’s all in good fun, and Sweets and Hodgins get that, and your
squinterns get that, too. It’s just guy to guy humor, you know?” Booth defended.
Brennan shrugged and fished a carrot out of her soup to eat. “I mean, we can’t be
like girls and be all buddy-buddy all the time.”

She didn’t say anything, just looked at him as he stabbed angrily at his food.
He took his ketchup bottle and shook it hard. Red sauce plopped onto his meatloaf,
drenching it completely. “Ack!” he squawked, trying to scrape the ketchup off with
his fork. He gave up after a little while and dropped his fork, putting his elbows on
the table in agitation.

“So what do you think I should do?” he asked. She calmly swallowed her
soup, thoughtfully looking at him. She pursed her lips as she studied his face.

“You should apologize,” she said in the same tone she used when she told
Booth the way to find the killer in a case. She wasn’t used to being doubted when
she knew that she was right.
 “Bones!” he whined. “I didn’t hurt their feelings or anything. It’s just guy
stuff. They understand.”

“I believe I’ve become quite adept at reading the facial expressions and
physiological cues of my colleagues, Booth, and I think they were hurt because of
your constant mocking and teasing,” she said seriously.

“Come on, Bones,” he continued to moan, a painful look on his face. “These
guys know it’s just for fun.”

“Even if it’s just for fun, it often hurts to be teased by someone that you
admire,” she replied softly without meeting his eyes. Booth’s whiny attitude
evaporated as he watched her admit that to him. Because it was an admission,
rather than a plea for sympathy on behalf of the squints. He knew that she was
speaking from experience.

“Bones, you know that I don’t ever want to hurt you,” he said to her quietly.
He reached over and lightly placed his hand over hers, stilling her fiddling. Her hand
twitched under his and she lifted her eyes to his face, reading the sincerity in his
eyes. She gave him a small smile.

“I know, Booth, and I know that you love me,” she answered his unspoken
question with compassion and understanding. “But it still hurts sometimes.”

“I’m sorry that I’ve teased you, Bones,” he whispered in her ear over the
table. She cupped his jaw as he turned to kiss her cheek.

“I forgive you,” Brennan said simply, factually. He smiled at her tone,

knowing that she always spoke the truth to him.

“You keep me honest. That’s another thing I love about you,” he told her
softly, a small smile on his face. She looked shy at his admission, but also very
pleased. He admired the pale pink blush on her cheekbones and silently listed it as
another reason he thought that she was the most beautiful woman in the world. He
caught himself staring deeply into her eyes and habit made him break eye contact
before he did something that he would regret. “I guess I need to find Sweets and
the Squints,” he said as he stood up. She smiled encouragingly at him, then looked
down at their food.

“I’ll get you some meatloaf to go,” she said. He glanced ruefully at his
ketchup covered meatloaf.

“That would be nice, Bones,” he said.

“You can finish your meal at my place.”

“Sounds good,” he said with a big grin. She saw his grin and answered with
one of her own.

“Because we’re a couple now, and couples share meals together,” she said
as if she had just realized something important.

“Yeah. Because we’re a couple,” he repeated. He bent, cupping the back of

her head in one hand as the other steadied him on the table. They shared a sweet
kiss, full of promise and passion, and each broke away with a sparkle to their eyes
and a new sense of purpose and belonging.

“But first you have to apologize to Sweets and Hodgins. And Mr. Nigel-
Murray, too, because you were rude to him as well.”

“Geez, Bones. So bossy,” he said teasingly. She glared at him, but melted as
he kissed her again. “I wouldn’t have you any other way, you know. You’re perfect,”
he whispered into her mouth as he pulled away. He felt her sweet smile and the
blush that came with the compliment.
 “Go get ‘em, Tiger,” she said, pushing him away. He grabbed his jacket from
the back of his chair and spun it until he had it straight enough to slide his arms in.

“I’ll see ya’ later, Roxie,” he drawled, settling an imaginary hat on his head.
His eyes caressed her as he turned to walk away, and he felt her eyes on him until
he was out of sight.

He drove to the Jeffersonian, knowing that the squints would still be there
wrapping up the Evans case. He parked and strode into the Medico-Legal lab. The
place had calmed down since the quarantine had taken effect and only a few strains
of music could be heard over the rumble of the ventilation system. He heard noises
coming from the lounge on the balcony and climbed the stairs to see who was up
there.

“Oh, hey, Booth,” Sweets said as Booth came in view. Sweets and Vincent
sat on opposite ends of one couch, holding coffee mugs, and Hodgins sat across
from them, drinking clear liquid from a beaker. Booth looked at the beaker in
disgust.

“I saw eyeballs in a glass just like that once,” Booth commented, scrunching
up his nose in an expression he borrowed from Bones.

“Relax, I keep eyeballs out of my still,” Hodgins said smugly, taking a sip.

“Bootlegging is illegal,” Booth said flatly, remembering when Zach and

Hodgins tried to sneak pure alcohol into the punch at Christmas one year. Hodgins
held up his free hand.

“Kidding, Booth. It’s just water. You can smell it if you’d like,” he reassured
the federal agent. Booth smirked to acknowledge the joke, but the smile quickly
faded and he looked faintly embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his neck and
stared up into the skylights.
 “So what brings you here, Agent Booth,” Vincent said in his British accent as
he nursed his coffee. Booth squared his shoulders and turned to face them
completely.

“You and Dr. Brennan aren’t fighting, are you?” Sweets asked unsurely. He
had vague visions of having to do a real couple’s counseling session with Booth and
Brennan arguing about leaving the toilet seat up.

“No, Sweets. Bones and I are good. But I’d stay out of our business if I were
you,” he growled menacingly. Sweets gulped and looked down into his coffee. Booth
sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets, searching for his poker chip.

“Listen, Sweets,” he said in a softer voice, “Thank you for taking an interest,
but right now Bones and I…we’ve never been better.” His smile had turned into a
goofy grin as he thought about Brennan waiting on him at her place with meatloaf.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Hodgins drawled. “I’ve never seen Dr. B as happy as
today.” He suddenly turned serious, setting his beaker down on the table beside the
couch and standing up to meet Booth’s eyes. The height difference made his stance
seem ridiculous, but his expression was too stern to ignore. “And though I doubt it
will make much of an impression on you, I will say that Dr. Brennan is my friend,
and if you break her heart, I know exactly how to make you disappear completely
with no evidence.”

“Chill, Hodgins,” Booth said, shifting nervously on his feet. “I hope that I can
make her happy. But, uh…thanks. For looking out for Bones, I mean.”

“Did you come here for a reason, Agent Booth?” Vincent asked, finishing his
coffee and standing. Hodgins glared at him for ruining his moment when he could
intimidate Booth. Booth just looked sheepish.

“Yeah, I just wanted to…uh…I’ve been a bit of a jerk to you during this case,
and I just wanted to…” Booth stumbled to a stop, almost choking on the apology.
Hodgins came to his rescue.
 “You know, forget about it,” Hodgins said, bumping Booth’s arm with his fist.
“We’re guys, for crying out loud. We’re not going to go crying just because you
weren’t as nice as you could be.”

“Yeah,” Sweets chimed in, “What are we, girls?”

“It looks like the boys are back,” Vincent said. As the words left his mouth,
music started playing. Booth watched in horror as Hodgins, Sweets and Vincent all
got up and stood beside him in a line. Then Booth shrugged and smiled, then put his
sunglasses on in synchronization with Sweets, just as Hodgins and Vincent put their
safety glasses on. In the back of his mind, Booth thought they looked a little like a
cheesy boy band, but he didn’t follow that line of thought as Hodgins began singing:

Take it back to the lab where you know it all comes down.

Taking strides in front of Booth to get to the other side of him, Sweets
stepped up to the other side of Booth as he hit his chest once and sang:

We can be anything we wanna be!

Vincent strolled in front of the trio with a frozen pig on his shoulder, carrying
it as if it were a boom box and sang:

You can tell by the noise that the boys are back again.

Hodgins then threw a smoke bomb down. As the smoke began to rise all
three stepped through the curtain, with Hodgins spinning a tray as if it were a
basketball, Booth twirling his pen though his fingers and flipping his badge up, and
Sweets weaving a folder around his head and back. They all sang:
 Together solving mysteries.

Booth sang as he put his hand on his waist, pulling back his jacket to reveal
his gun in the holster, as he flicked his mirrored aviators making it sparkle in the
light:

It’s time to show how

Hodgins and Sweets danced in front of Booth with their arms outstretched
like they were flying. Hodgins finished the lyric with:

To be a super-solver

Booth continued taking a step and then leaned in with his knees bent, with
his arms spread wide, his hands open, and his fingers motioning towards himself:

Just like a showdown

Sweets thrust his fist into the air as he sprinted towards Hodgins. Hodgins
cupped his hands and launched Sweets in the air, sending Sweets flying across the
group as Sweets shouted:

Squints and FBI now!

Booth strutted in front of Sweets and Hodgins as Vincent threw him a straight
brimmed hat that he wore in Vegas. He spun as he put on the hat and then stopped
with a sideways glance and then began to do the moonwalk as he sang:
 We’re the best, no doubt,

Everyone stepped forward to join Booth. They all put a fist in the air pumping
their arms as they did a single spin as they sang:

Solve it like we always do.

Hodgins then ran to the nearest table and quickly jumped on the top with his
lab coat swirling around his body. He then did a double back flip and landed on his
feet as he sang:

This is our lab.

And then did a short sprint and slid on his knees to the railing directly in front
of Booth and Sweets as he sang:

And we’re telling you all…

Together they sang as Hodgins and Sweets twirled over Booth's back and
landed on their knees, shaping their hands like a gun, with Booth pulling his real
gun in the air.

The boys are back. The boys are back!

The boys are back, gonna solve it again,

Hodgins and Vincent sang together as they dragged a cannon across the
lounge to point it over the balcony:

Gonna blow up the laboratory!

 Together they sang with Sweets and Hodgins doing two back flips at the side
of Booth, as Booth strutted up with them:

The boys are back. The boys are back!

Vincent brought out a target as Booth spun and then aimed his gun and shot
it twice in the head as he sang:

Fighting crime anytime we want.

Together they sang the chorus as Hodgins and Sweets twirled over Booth's
back and landed on their knees, shaping their hands like a gun, with Booth pulling
his real gun in the air.

The word is out the boys are back!

The boys are back. Gonna save the day.

As the song ended, Vincent took a frozen pig out of the freezer in the lounge
and stuffed it in the cannon. Hodgins lit the fuse and the cannon shot the frozen pig
over the lab. After the crash of the explosion, there was a moment of silence where
the four guys realized what they had just done. They were triumphant, but Booth
looked rather embarrassed to have been caught singing and dancing. He looked
around to see if anyone had seen them and spotted Brennan looking in horrified
fascination at the globs of frozen pig scattered over the lab.

“Impossible!” she exclaimed as she looked at the mess. She looked back at
Booth, who ran down the steps to meet her. “If you had a part in this…” she began
threateningly.
 “I swear that I didn’t know they were going to do this,” he promised. She
looked up at the mess again in dismay. He nudged her to get her to look at him
instead of the pig pieces. “So, did you like my dance?” he asked hopefully.

“It was very interesting. Especially how vigorously Hodgins and Sweets
danced. They were very energetic and I really enjoyed the more dramatic and
gymnastic aspects of the dance.”

“But how did you like the way I danced?” he asked, disappointed that she
liked Sweets’ and Hodgins’ part of the dance better.

“You were good, too,” she said dismissively. Booth looked hurt.

“Did you see my moonwalk? I rock at the moonwalk,” he defended himself.

“I don’t know what that means,” she stated, crinkling her face at his
phrasing, “But I did enjoy your mastery of the classic dance that was made famous
by Michael Jackson.”

They turned to walk out, Booth reaching for her hand and twining his fingers
with hers. She smiled at him lovingly as they bumped shoulders. “I’m surprised you
know Michael Jackson,” Booth said.

“He was quite a public icon during my teenage years,” Brennan told him as
they left the mess behind them. Booth smiled down at her gleefully, glad that he
didn’t have to suppress the urge to kiss her forehead.

“You always surprise me,” he commented happily as they walked out of the
lab. “Come on, Bones, I have a meal to finish.”

“And I took the liberty of ordering you a piece of pie.”

 Just as Booth hurried her eagerly out of the Jeffersonian, Cam strode out of
her office, stalking up the stairs with a vengeance.

“Uh, oh,” Hodgins said when he saw her come up to the lounge.

“What do you think you are doing?” she shouted menacingly. Cam gestured
to the gruesome sight in the lab below, pointing to stainless steel equipment
covered with pig goo. “You’re all grounded until the day you retire!” Hodgins and
Vincent Nigel-Murray cringed while Sweets tried to sneak away. “Even you, Dr.
Sweets. So help me, all of you are going to be cleaning this place until it is
spotless!”

Hodgins looked around at his coconspirators sheepishly and said, “I guess I

should have seen this end in the beginning.”