New Authors Note: THIS IS A REPOST

I am currently working on another Bones story, and I wanted to recirculate this story again first. The feedback I got the first time around was amazing, and hopefully I can reach a new audience this time around as well; maybe some new Bones fans that were converted during the previous season! I am in the process of continuing the story as a sequel, but am also intrigued by my newest idea for a stand-alone story as well. I'm hopeful that more awesome feedback will inspire me to focus my creative efforts one way or another.

Enjoy!

Max

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Head or Heart

Chapter 1

"Wow," Seeley Booth stated, waving his hand uselessly in front of his face as he choked on a caustic mixture of smoldering metal and burned flesh. "I've smelled some nasty things in a parking garage before, but I never knew one could make my eyes burn this bad."

His partner stopped and looked at him, her own eyes beginning to water from the residual effects of a charred vehicle in an enclosed structure. "The fire department has cleared us to be here, Booth. There shouldn't be any residual elements that would cause a long-term negative effect."

He was blinking rapidly, trying to dispel the irritation from his eyes, and only managed to let it creep into his voice. "I know they've cleared us to be here, Bones, but that doesn't mean it doesn't stink to high heaven." He pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes before opening them and resuming his original course through the garage.

"What have we got?" Booth asked the uniformed officer next to the remains of a once fully viable sport utility vehicle.

"Fire was called in an hour ago by the garage attendant. The alarms set off pretty quick, and by the time he got here he couldn't even tell what kind of car it was." The officer shook his head. "Took the fire department a half an hour to get it out."

Brennan was already peering into the driver's side door while concurrently pulling on a pair of rubber gloves. She set her bag down and r working on rentlgingerly fingered a large depression in the driver's skull.

"What is it?" Booth asked, staying close enough to hear her but further towards the rear of the vehicle in order to minimize his exposure to the putrid air around them. She would always mumble, in her endearingly thoughtful way, as she assessed a body for the first time, and he normally hovered close at her elbow so he didn't miss a thing.

Booth loved to watch the myriad of different emotions that would play across her features while she made her initial assessment. She paused now, studiously observing subtle differences in the victim's physiological make-up, and for a brief moment his attention was diverted to the vehicle itself.

"The victim was female, mid to late thirties. Height approximately 67 inches. There is a large depression in the anterior section of the cranium, which we will probably find was inflicted before the victim died." Her finger traced the depression in the bone.

"Most likely this cranial trauma will be our proven cause of death." She finished her initial findings and pulled herself back to remove her gloves. Feeling something slightly amiss she turned to see Booth, brow furrowed, several feet away and staring wordlessly at the rear of the vehicle. Normally she felt his warm breath on her neck as she worked, and the absence of his presence and full attention now was an obvious and unwelcome change from their normal routine.

Brennan turned to the uniformed officer nearby. "Have the body transferred back to my lab at the Jeffersonian, along with the driver's door so we can test it for particulate matter."

She observed her partner as she joined him at his side. His face had grown more taut, and he was now peering intently at the blackened remains of a bumper sticker.

"We'll need to get back as soon as possible so Hodgins can get started with his analysis. And Zack is going to need some extra time in order to clean the charring from the bones so we can…."

Booth's earlier aversion to the car was instantly gone, as was his fascination with the bumper sticker. In two long strides he was back around to the driver's side and swinging the rear door open.

"Booth? What are you..."

"Bones, is there a body in the backseat?"

She looked at him, bewildered at the frantic tone underlying the absurdity of his question, and momentarily apprehensive at the intensity of his gaze. "What? Why would you think there would be another body..."

"DAMMIT BONES!" Impatient, and slightly manic at this point, he retraced his path to roughly grab her arm and pull her back towards the rear door. "Is-there-another-body-in-the-backseat?"

Brennan stared at him for a long moment, taking in the pleading eyes and suddenly agitated state. He had never treated her with such disregard, and although he had been unnecessarily rough with her she didn't question his motives. If he were this insistent it was only because he had good reason to be.

Obediently she turned and searched through the rubble remaining in the rear seat of the car. Almost immediately she observed the vestiges of what was once a small booster seat, still in place where it had once been safely strapped in. Now the seat belt was melted into the seat around it, and the molded plastic of the seat itself had been reduced to a bubbled mass of toxic fumes. Understanding suddenly washed over her, and for a fearful moment her panicked emotions mirrored that of her partner's. The victim had a child, or at least was traveling fully equipped for one.

Thankful eyes closed briefly as she turned to face her partner, shaking her head slightly and speaking in that soft tone reserved only for him. "No, there is no one else in this car with her."

"You're sure?" He questioned, running his hand through his hair, growing more agitated by the moment.

"Yes, I'm sure," she replied quickly, puzzled at his lack of relief at her assessment. "I think you should know that I know a body when I see one, Booth." She paused for a moment, taking in his distress. Eyes wide, face white, with a small sheen of sweat on his brow and upper lip.

"Booth," she began cautiously, "what is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? What's WRONG WITH ME?" He echoed, his voice rising slightly with each word as he positioned himself right in her face. His voice lowered somewhat as he spoke again.

"This car is Rebecca's car, Bones. More than likely that corpse is Becca," he jabbed towards the car with his index finger.

Brennan stared at him, aghast. "Rebecca?" she whispered. "Your Rebecca?"

He winced, noticeably, but didn't reply.

"How do you know it's her?"

"And this," he continued as if he hadn't heard her, his attention moving to the opened door and pointing to the molten plastic, "is Parker's booster seat."

He was pacing now, like a caged tiger ready to pounce. She knew that look; it only happened when he was trying to make sense of something that just didn't add up and was frustrated with his inability to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She jumped as he pounded his fist against the side of the car.

"Booth!"

"This is Parker's booster seat," he repeated, quivering slightly.

He strode over next to the driver's side door, and to his partner's horror pointed at the corpse inside. "This, this right here?" He shook his finger at the skull and then stared into Brennan's eyes as his own grew wider.

"This is..." He paused, looking back at the body, as if the gravity of the situation had finally caught up with him. "This is the mother of my child," he finished softly, voice about to break.

"So where is my child?" he asked, turning back to face Brennan. The look on his face made her heart want to break. His eyes were filled with the pain and horror of loosing someone who had once been so important; who had once been the center of his universe. They were also filled with the confusion that comes when it is realized that things are not as they should be.

"Booth, you don't know for sure that this is Rebecca. We won't know that until we can verify the identity of this individual."

His eyes were threatening to spill over with tears he didn't want to give credit to. He wiped them away with the back of his hand, staring again at what he knew would turn out to be her body.

"I know it's her, Bones."

His lack of logic was crying out to be corrected. Although his "gut" had served them well on many occasions, he just did not have the experience necessary to be able to determine identity from looking at a corpse. He could not possibly be able to facially reconstruct a victim, no matter how many crime scenes he had observed.

She was prepared to launch into a discourse of all of these reasons why Booth's logic was flawed. To explain to him that there were far more possibilities of this not being Rebecca than it actually being her. That she had ultimate faith in science, and science alone, to comfort her with its laws, certainties, and answers. That putting her trust in it had served her well through all of the difficult periods in her life. And that only in recent years had her complete faith been expanded to now include two items: science and Booth.

The source of her faith was now struggling. She had seen him wipe away the tears that had been in danger of falling, and her heart ached at the possibility, however slim, that this may in fact be the mother of his child. Her thoughts of extolling the science of the situation were wiped out of her mind completely when she heard Booth's voice from a recent memory in her mind.

"Head or Heart."

She reached out to grab his hand instead, offering him all of the support and strength she could offer. He gripped it tightly for just a brief moment, then righted himself and shifted into what Angela called his "G-Man Mode". He pulled his cell phone out and quickly began punching numbers, pausing only a moment before speaking.

"Shelly, it's Seeley Booth. Is Parker with you today, by chance?"

He paused a moment, his eyes closing at her apparent response. "Okay, just checking. No, everything's fine," he lied, voice slightly quaking at the effort. "Yes, I'm sure I'll see you soon. Bye."

Booth snapped the phone shut, tapping it against his chin and wildly trying to come up with any other plausible explanation for where his son might be.

"Babysitter?" Brennan asked.

Booth dropped his head. "No, that was Rebecca's mother I just spoke to. Rebecca sometimes drops Parker off with her if she needs to run errands."

She could hear the defeat beginning to creep into his voice and tugged at his sleeve, her protective instincts taking over. "Come on, Booth, there's nothing more we can do here now."

He seemed hesitant to leave, and found himself staring at the body once again as the FBI forensic team began the process of extricating it from the vehicle.

"And there's nothing you could have done before, either," she cautioned, already seeing him begin to blame himself. "Let's confirm the victim's identity as soon as possible and go from there," she finished softly.

Booth finally nodded and tossed his car keys to her, the gesture itself saying more than any words could convey. "You'd better drive," was all he said.

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Chapter 2

"Oh my god," Angela gasped as she took in the blackened body before her on the examination table. "Booth seriously thinks this is Rebecca?"

Brennan nodded silently, face grim as she continued her assessment of the body and successfully ignored Angela's nervous chatter. Positively identifying the victim had been difficult to the extreme, as all of the teeth had been removed post-mortem and the hands had been purposefully singed to prevent fingerprinting. A dispatch had been sent to retrieve Rebecca's medical records, Brennan's mind still desperately holding on to the possibility that they would eliminate her as a victim rather than prove her identity.

Her index finger followed the slight curve of the victim's right tibia, noting evidence of a prior break that had been cleanly set, and her mind began to wander slightly. The ride back to the Jeffersonian with Booth had been excruciatingly long. She had guiltily realized that this was the only instance in which he had ever let her drive, and the current circumstances behind the otherwise momentous event had made her too nauseous to even enjoy it.

Booth spent the whole drive on his phone, effectively ignoring the concerned glances she had occasionally thrown his way. He first called the FBI to utilize his official contacts and follow the chain of command, and then coordinated with a few of his unofficial friends at the Bureau to physically check Rebecca's work, home, and other known places of interest. His greatest hope, she knew, was that eventually Rebecca would return his call, and laughingly explain how she and Parker had spent the day at the park away from her phone.

It was only as they approached the Jeffersonian that Booth finally snapped his phone shut and sat silently in the seat next to her. She looked at him as she put the vehicle in park and opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her.

"No."

"No, what?" she questioned.

"No, I don't want to talk about this," he declared, opening the passenger door and quickly getting out before she could reply.

Brennan gathered her things from around her and opened the driver's door.

"But Booth…" she tried again, but again he raised his hand to cut her off.

"Bones, please. Don't do this right now," he had begged, eyes pleading for her not to prod any further.

She had hesitated for a brief second, then simply nodded dumbly and retrieved her bag, moving away to walk towards the entrance.

"Hey, wait," he finally managed, and reached to grab the corner of her sleeve and gently draw her back to him. She turned, unsure of what to expect from his sudden hurricane of emotions. 

The blank stare that had settled upon his strong features such a short time ago had been temporarily replaced by a certainty that surprised her, as did his next words.

"I know you can tell me what happened to her, Temperance. I need you…," his voice had broken only for a slight moment and his eyes dropped from her face momentarily before he righted himself.

"I need to you tell me what happened," he had paused, his voice evidence of the confidence and faith he had in her. "Only you can. I need you to help me find my son."

Her partner's words still echoed in her ears. In all of the previous cases she had worked, she could not recall any that had caused her to demand of herself such a single-minded focus. Brennan would admit almost every day that she was a professional workaholic, and she always demanded excellence of herself and her team. Very rarely did she ever allow herself to become emotionally attached to the cases they worked on, and in those few instances she had always wished afterwards that she had listened to her highly developed sense of rationale and kept her emotions away from her work.

The simple fact that her partner fully believed that this was Rebecca was enough for her to attempt to bend the earth backwards around its axis in order to prove him wrong. The care and concern she felt for him translated to a vicarious pain when he was hurting or suffering, and in this case she felt both. There were very few things she would not do for her partner, and if she could somehow put his mind at ease that this was not Rebecca it would seemingly be better to do it sooner rather than later.

Now, hours later and sheltered from the emotions she had felt when he had given her such open reliance and utter conviction, she looked up at her co-workers. Rebecca's medical records had just been dropped off and were now firmly clasped in Hodgins' hand as he approached the platform.

Brennan greedily grabbed the file from his hand before he had even topped the stairs. She had made it through only two pages before becoming very aware of four pairs of eyes on her back. She turned to see the rest of her team united in their obvious irritability. All four of them, Angela, Hodgins, Zack, and Cam, were glaring at her with their arms folded over their chests.

Angela, apparently, had been informally elected as the spokesperson. "Brennan, sweetie, you know we always give you plenty of room to work," she began. "We don't interrupt, we don't question, and we don't get in the way."

"Great. Then we're all in agreement," Brennan replied, growing increasingly more irritable herself as she tried to return to the documents in her hands.

Angela rolled her eyes and took a step towards the table. "You need to let us help you with this. You're not the only one that cares about Booth and we want to do our part."

Brennan shook her head, trying to keep the dismay from her tone. "That won't be necessary."

"Dr. Brennan," Hodgins began, stepping forward as well. "You really should let us do something to help identify the body. We NEED to do something here."

"No," she said, again shaking her head at the dumbfounded scientists in front of her. "What I mean is, it won't be necessary to do any further testing to identify the body."

She moved closer to the table, visually tracing the areas of the body as she continued. "The prior break on the victim's tibia, combined with the scarring in the knee tissue from two recorded surgeries, blood type, and the consistent comparison with recorded vital statistics would indicate that this is indeed Rebecca."

Footsteps on the stairs to the platform halted at her words, and all five of them turned to see Booth, security card drawn, preparing to swipe past security before hearing Brennan's evaluation. No one breathed as they waited for the agent's response, and the awkward moment seemed to last for an eternity.

Booth's arm dropped away from the card reader momentarily, his face a mask of angry stoicism. "Well, I guess that answers that question." His jaw was clenched, and his whole body seemed to be drawn too tightly, as if he were a coiled snake ready to spring at any given moment. His cell phone chirped at his side, and he answered quickly while finally swiping his card.

"Booth," came his standard greeting. "Yes, sir. The victim has just been identified."

A pause, then a slight change in his voice. "Yes, sir, it's her."

Another pause and the anger in his voice was now barely controlled. "Yes, sir, I understand. Please keep me informed." He snapped his phone shut and stared at it for a long moment.

"Booth?" Brennan questioned, trying to tread lightly.

He met her gaze, a mixture of anger and sadness clearly visible. "I'm now on administrative paid leave, officially off the case, and forbidden to consort with any and all investigative personnel."

END OF CHAPTER 2