beltbucklerebel | 001 - The Agent in the Fox Hunt

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001 - The Agent in the Fox Hunt

[Considering how foul his mood had been that morning, it had actually turned out to be a pretty nice Valentine’s Day. The time at the shooting range with Bones had calmed some of the hurt and anger aggravated by the holiday...enough that, for one of the first times since ending things with Hannah, he didn’t have to fight to fall asleep that night.

He didn’t even dream. It was as if no time passed at all. One minute, he’d closed his eyes on the red, digital glare of his alarm clock, and the next-

There’s no mistaking the deafening crack of a gunshot. It’s so close--so terrifyingly close--that Booth wakes convinced that he’s been hit.

There’s panic, but there’s no time to indulge. Instead, he is the instant soldier, hands flying to his hip for his gun...only to find it’s not there. It’s not there and everything is wrong and what the hell is going on? He knows he maybe only has seconds to figure it out as he scrambles to his feet (barefoot. Why is he in a battlefield, barefoot?), and moves for the nearest cover (trees? Why the hell are there trees?).

It’s only in the silence that follows, listening to the rapid pounding of his own heart, that he starts to realize that something is very, very wrong. He leans back, trying to stay close to the tree, and flinches as newly added wings protest against the pressure.]

What the-?!

[There might be quite a bit of swearing and arguing happening as soon as Moran catches up with him enough to explain what the hell is going on]

[Later, once he’s calmed down...relatively speaking]

[Moran had directed him towards the village and actual clothes, but that hadn’t made Booth feel any less furious. The voice that comes over the journal is clipped and almost wry, anger audible...but tightly controlled]

Okay. Whatever genius thought that kidnapping a federal agent and playing dressup was a good idea, I’m telling you right now. I’m not laughing. I’ve heard a lot of crazy things coming out of this book...thing...and I’ve had just about enough. No more fairy tales. No more crazy, hallucination-induced, looney-bin stories. I want the truth. Now. And one more thing:

I want my badge. I want my gun. And, if you tell me how to get these wings off, I might not even shoot you with it.

[The agent can be found pacing in front of the Welcome Center, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and fuming as he waits for responses]

[OOC: First tag, chronologically, goes to Sebastian Moran who was hunting in the forest. All other replies will come after Booth’s relocated into town]

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[It really is hard to decide whether or not to be overjoyed or absolutely devastated at the response. Maybe it's some mixture of both. Whichever emotion is more prominent ultimately doesn't matter though. Some habits are hard to quit. And as much as she still struggles to let herself feel, right now, it's easier to hide behind hyper-rationality.

Booth is here. There's nothing either of them can do about that. Accept and move on.]

Where are you?

Some kind of...welcome...thing. [he glances up at the sign, almost irritably, before immediately looking back at the page] Center.

Bones, what are you doing here?!

[She purses her lips together. This conversation would probably be easier if they had it in person.

Still, he does have a ridiculously tendency to be overprotective. And not take no for an answer.]

I've been here for two months. Booth, we... [She picks up her journal and begins to head to the door of her apartment. There's hesitation. He's not going to take this well.] The most succinct explanation is that we have been kidnapped and placed in a confinement to be utilized as test subjects by another species.

[Two months.

kidnapped.

confined.

species?!]

.....What?!

[Her initial hypothesis was correct. This would have gone over much better in person.

She shakes her head. That was a mistake.] Look in the back of your journal. There's a rudimentary guide to this confinement within those pages. I'll explain in person in a few minutes. I'm leaving now.

Bones, wait- what do you mean leaving? From where?

[given the choice, he'd probably try to find her instead. If she's smart (which no one doubted), she'd be better off ignoring him and making him wait]

[She knows better by now.]

My apartment. [Sternly,] Stay by the welcome center, Booth.

[there are protests (and more questions. She has an apartment? Here?), but they don't do him much good when she doesn't answer. He's gone back to pacing, agitation evident, by the time she is within sight of the Welcome Center]

[It's tempting to keep the journal open the entire walk over. It is also tempting to run. But she keeps herself steady, journal in messenger bag, pace only a little faster than normal.

She does trust him to stay put. For the most part. But there's still a slight doubt in the back of her mind that he'll come looking for her after all.

It doesn't take long for Brennan to reach the welcome center. And when she does get there, she just stops. It's difficult to stop the smile from crossing her face.]

[he's not smiling. None of this is making him happy. But he does look incredibly relieved when he catches sight of her. And worried. There's definitely worry there.

It only takes a few long strides to close the gap between them, and then his hands are on her arms, holding her firmly (though not painfully. Never that)]

Bones...you're-

Are you alright? Did they hurt you at all?

[stop smiling at him, woman. He's trying to worry about you.]

[The smile fades quickly when his hands go on her shoulder and she sees just how worried he is. Rather than attempt to move away, she stays still. It's tempting to hug him but for now, this is easier.]

I'm fine, Booth. I promise.

[She tilts her head a little to study him, growing a little more guilty with each passing moment. Ms. Summers had said he had been here once before. But she would never want him trapped here, too.] I admit... I did not expect to see you here.

Didn't expect-

God.

[she's so calm. Temperance Brennan, brilliant, controlled, and put together. He really shouldn't expect anything else. But it's such a contrast to how he's feeling right at this moment that it forces a laugh out of him...Honestly, if he hadn't had so much training in staying calm under duress, that laugh would have held an edge of hysteria]

I wasn't exactly expecting to be here.

[she's okay. He can see she's okay. But he can't seem to let her go. Holding on to her makes this all a bit more solid. More real] You're sure you're alright?

Neither was I. [Don't be fooled, Booth. The calm, rational material is a facade, albeit a facade that even Brennan believes in. Doctor Sweets, if he were here, would probably have a field day with her reaction right now.

But she doesn't want anyone else to show up. Not even Angela.] I went to bed, as normal, but when I woke up, I was in a forest wearing a simple white shift.

[She frowns, her dislike instantly obvious.] And wings.

[the comment about the wings draws his eyes to her shoulders. He hadn't noticed any...but now he can see the way her trench coat bulges against her back in a way that it shouldn't. His own wings flick, a subconscious testament to how much he doesn't like this, and he presses his lips together in a thin line.]

That makes two of us. Minus...uh....the shift.

[......] That's a dress, right?

[...really, Booth? That's a dress?

That's a rather irrelevant question right about now. One she's not even going to bother to answer aloud. The look says it all.]

I've been told men arrive here dressed only in pants.

[he wouldn't have to ask if you'd just use normal words]

[he grimaces at that] You were told right. Woke up without my clothes or my badge or my gun.

You can obtain a gun from the weapons shop easily enough. [Speaking from experience and all here.] Just as you've obtained clothing. For some reason, quite possibly to placate us into being more docile subjects, the Malnosso are capable of importing objects from home. I've already been able to obtain a few of the artifacts I have both at home and in my office at the Jeffersonian.

....Are you telling my they just hand out weapons?

[somehow this is more upsetting that his being taken away]

Bones...what the hell is going on?

[He's probably been standing here some time now. And by evidence of his clothing, he has at least encountered one other person. Someone who would have pointed in the direction of the shop. It's a reasonable conclusion to draw.

But just to be on the safe side,]

Have you talked with anyone else yet?

Yeah. The guy who shot at me and a whole bunch of knuckleheads after. They're all blaming these Malwhatsit people.

[...and now it's her turn to stop, pause, and gawk.]

Malnosso, Booth. [Really?] You failed to mention that you were shot at.

[he shrugs, brushing it off] Guy was hunting. He didn't hit me.

[and, because it was unintentional and without consequence, he's going to pretend like it doesn't matter.]

[That's not very reassuring.]

I... think I preferred being lost in the forest.

[and, man that he is, he decides not to point out that he was shot at while he was in the forest. Better she not worry more than necessary] Well, I'm fine now.

[...]

All things considered.

[his voice lowers.] How is it possible that you've been here two months. I just saw you this morning.

[He looks okay. There are no indications of bandages or blood beneath his clothing. And Booth would not lie to her. Not about something like that.

He's okay. And, perhaps more importantly, he's here.]

It is... difficult to explain. [Said a second or two late, after fully reassuring herself with a scrutiny of Booth's torso and limbs.] And you are not particularly versed on quantum or Euclidean physics.

001 - The Agent in the Fox Hunt

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