Man in the FoundationAuthor:
The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.Rating:
FR-13Summary: Booth and Brennan are the bearers of bad news.
B:tVS post-"Chosen", General S1 of "Bones"Prompt:
twistedshorts marathon #6; tth100 #90, Angst.Notes:
Dedicated to MaeveBran. I know, I know. I'm not a Boreanaz fan, and yet I wrote this? Cherish it, it'll be awhile before you get another. =)
Buffy wasn't quite sure what to do with the detective who looked just like Angel. No, not 'do'-- that was a poor choice of words; she really shouldn't be thinking that way, not with the disastrous break-up with the Immortal only just behind her and the fact that if she got involved with Booth she'd be thinking about her first, star-crossed ex every time she touched him instead of seeing him for himself. No guy deserved that.
The consultant he worked with from the Jeffersonian Institute was easier to deal with. She was just like Willow, except with bones instead of computers and magic, and acted like she'd had a complete humor-removal operation. Okay, so maybe not just like Willow; more like Oz maybe? Except that he'd been funny, too, in his own quiet way.
And maybe Brennan was funny, too, if you got to know her, except that Buffy really didn't want to. The detective and the anthropologist had tracked her down in Cleveland to ask her questions about her long-absent father-- except that he'd been more than just absent
the last couple of years, unbeknownst to her; he'd been dead for most of that time, gone to skeleton in the foundation of a rich somebody's house in D.C. They'd asked her a lot of questions, like why she hadn't been worried when he failed to contact her or her sister since the year after their mother's death. Brennan hadn't been particularly impressed with the blank look she'd given them in return, nor her stuttered explanations of his completely lackluster post-divorce parenting in general.
Buffy wasn't terribly pleased with the situation either, especially given the likely explanation for her father's death; the home where he'd been interred belonged to a congressman with a young, lovely wife at whose lawyer's office Hank Summers had been employed. Surprise, surprise. Not.
At least Dawn was well out of the mess, still at school in Rome. Buffy was left to suffer through the questioning and the waiting on her own-- or at least as alone as she could get with a warm body wearing the face of her first lover continually appearing in her peripheral vision with more questions and a sympathetic look on his face.
First chance she got, she was flying to L.A. to curl up in the cold arms of the original, even if it couldn't lead to anything more.