Brennan's Office. The Jeffersonian.

[dr_temperance]

Brennan had gone straight for the pile of papers on her desk as soon as she stepped out of Milliways. Zach or Hodgins had evidently left them there--along with a cup of coffee.

Her brief breather in the bar, and the reassurance of knowing that Hannah was safe (if anxious and worried) had brought her back to center. Helped her focus. Brennan sat down and began to methodically review their findings.

The cup of coffee was now empty, and Brennan had reviewed the report eight times. There had to be something here. There had to.

But whatever it was, it wasn't showing itself easily.

Comments

[squints_and_co.livejournal.com]

There's no answer at first. He's pacing, quickly, fingers snarled in his own hair, almosting hanging up, curling his fingers around the phone in frustration.

"You had no right. My mother's not a part of this."

[dr_temperance]

You're the one who started this, Howard.

"You tell me about the poison and I'll tell you about your mother."

[squints_and_co.livejournal.com]

Yes, he started it. And he'll end it. And control it along the way.

Coldly, he says, "You don’t run the game. I run the game. You're going to be sorry. You, or Agent Booth, or that little blonde, you're going to be sorry."

He snaps the phone shut, drops it, and leaves.

He's in charge here. And he'll make sure she knows that.

[dr_temperance]

The receiver buzzes in Brennan's ear.

She's not going to waste anger over Epps's threats. Especially against Hannah. There's no way he can get to her. Not in Milliways.

Agent Rose sticks his head in her office.

"Cell phone downtown. There's a team on its way."

Brennan shakes her head and hangs up the phone.

"He's already gone."