The Beginning in the End

Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Author's Note: I did not know that the finale was going to be called Beginning in the End when I chose it as my title. Please do review. I am so motivated by your reviews. To "me," thanks for your careful appraisal of my story. You are right; I am ignoring details to make it work. I hope that does not take away from the overall effect. I wanted Booth in Chicago, because I wanted Bren and Booth near Northwestern. I want Booth making lots of money, because a) I want to show that his unique skills should be better compensated, and b) it fits in with the life I want to build for them. I hope if you notice other things, you will continue to bring them to my attention, so I can address them if need be.

The two of them sat grinning at each other. Identical graduation caps sat next to one another on the table. It had been a great day for them. In one day, there were two graduates in the house. Booth was so proud of Brennan, only twenty and she had graduated with two separate Bachelor's degrees each with a double major and minors, with a 4.0 perfect GPA, the highest grades in the history of Northwestern. Booth too had graduated today. He had worked hard to maintain at 3.7 GPA and was graduating magna cum laude. Being with Bren had made him have a newfound sense of self worth. If God didn't love him, he would never have been given his angel. He had worked hard to finish his degree in five years while working full time. It had taken summer classes, independent study, evening classes, and near constant work and studying, but he had done it. He would be the first in his family to graduate college. His major in military strategy included a concentration in private sector studies. He would always be employable as an independent security agent. He liked the idea of working for himself and he knew that he would earn well, allowing him to provide for his wife. His minor in business would give him the background to start up his business whenever it was time. Moreover, Jared had just completed his four years of study and had graduated.

Bren, of course, was going straight into graduate programs, two of them, cultural anthropology and chemistry. She had decided against biology with Booth's gentle urging. He had no interest in Bren encountering dead bodies as he had seen them. He was going to take some elective graduate level classes every now and then, but he was satisfied with his degree. He wouldn't stop learning, if anything, Bren had taught him to value education, but it would be secondary to his professional goals.

Booth was glad his schedule would clear up considerably and he would be able to spend more time with his wife. She would be freer during the summer, although she was doing some field work for a month in July. He would be gone most of that time as well. The army had more targets for him in Africa. He was glad that it would be at the same time. He was terribly worried about her. She was going to be part of one of the first studies about the women of the Saudi elite and would be posing as her anthropology professor's wife. She would be living with the women of the extended Saudi royal family. On one hand, he wanted to wrap her in cotton wool and keep her safe and sound in America. On the other hand, anthropology was her passion; he could not stop her from indulging in this passion.

In addition, Bren had purchased several books and planned to visit Northwestern's library several time during the summer. They would have June and August completely to themselves before Bren started class again, although her schedule would be much freer, even doing two graduate degrees simultaneously, with additional classes and working as a research assistant for her professors, she would only work six hours a day. She would leave at eight when Booth did and return home by four, giving her time to freshen up before Booth arrived. He was glad she would have a shorter day. As far as he was concerned she was still far too delicate and needed to rest frequently. Both knew that in two years, Bren would finish her education. Doctoral work would require her to be gone far too much and Booth felt her health was strong enough to allow her to take on doctoral field work. He knew she was tough; she was taking martial arts classes and doing remarkably well. He just couldn't let her work herself to the bone. He was glad Bren would never have to work. She could research and write at her leisure.

After graduation, the two had returned to their little home and changed. Feeling free with the weekend ahead, Booth urged Bren to come with him for a walk in the evening before selecting a restaurant for dinner. The wind blew gently and as the two walked with clasped hands; it was easy to delay dinner for the pleasure of the outdoors. Soft murmurs were exchanged commenting on the scenery. Completely caught up in each other, they did not notice the man until he was just a few feet away from them. He was staring at them, at her, with such malice in his eyes. Bren recoiled visibly, reminding Booth of the trembling girl he had first met. Every cell in his body cried out to break the man's nose, to twist his head, crack his ribs, to make him hurt. Only Bren, at his side, and his desire to shield her from all things unpleasant stopped him. Instead he put himself between the man and her and continued to walk away.

Alas it was not to be, drawn from his drunken stupor, Bren's foster father was charging right for her. Booth moved in front of her, but was too slow as the man pinned Bren against the wall. She felt his hands tighten against her arms and suppressed a whimper. Her eyes closed and it was a moment before she realized that nothing further had happened. She opened her eyes again. Booth was pinning him down, cutting off his air supply and pushing his fist into the man over and over again. She wondered if he would stop, she wondered how to make him stop, she put her hand on his shoulder, and instantly Booth stilled. He did not want her to see him kill a man, not even a man like this. By now witnesses had called the police. Booth knew they would arrive within moments; he sat down on the curb and pulled his wife into his lap. With infinite tenderness, he pushed her sleeves up her arms. His gaze became fixated on the deep purple finger marks. He could not pull himself away from them. That was how the police found them, with an unconscious man behind them.

Witnesses were able to provide the necessary details and Bren was given the choice of whether or not to press charges. Booth nodded at her as she looked at him and then the two of them gave a full police report. Within moments they were in the Chief of Police's office meeting with a DA who assured them that the man by the name of Charles Dowling would suffer for what he did to Bren when she was in his home.

Booth lifted Bren up easily and carried her home, insisting on making dinner and bringing it to her. She did not try to convince him that she was fine. By now she knew, that more than she needed to be taken care of, he needed to take care of her. She allowed her eyes to close. Truth be told, she was still trembling from the encounter. It was nice to have Booth here. She was so glad he would never leave her. She barely finished her dinner before she fell asleep.

Author's Note: I do know where I am going with this. I have the next chapter planned and will start writing soon. I am sorry about the delay. I am busy studying for law school. Please review. I so look forward to hearing what everyone thinks.