Sessions Spent Alive

Lance had somehow let Agent Booth drag him back to FBI head quarters. But Lance had no idea where they could’ve gone. Tanna had slipped through his fingers so quickly; he was still in shock. Agent Booth had been on the phone with several men all had been looking in near by areas where Jones and Tanna could’ve gone. They had been searching for a few hours now – and nothing had come up.

Lance wanted to be out searching, doing something – it was driving him crazy. Booth was forcing him to stay here and look at files hoping some clue would jump out at him. But even if there was a clue, Lance was so distracted with worry. He had grown so attached to Tanna. She was only a patient, she was just… Lance knew that she had become everything to him. And even with Daisy threatening his career, he didn’t care. Tanna was his responsibility, and he was going to make sure she came back to him, no matter what.

He was distracted again when he heard Daisy’s voice outside the hall.

“I know where they could be!” she was exclaiming. “This man, this Trent, he visited Brock several times while in prison, and several times he was wearing this jacket.” Daisy gave the photos to Booth, Lance was now standing behind them. They were snapshots issued from the prison, derived form the camera security.

“How does this help Daisy?” Booth asked her.

She pointed to the “Cinema Props.” Jacket, “This company has been out of business for more than a few years, but there’s a warehouse at the end of down still filled with company props. It’s secluded, and if they were ex-employee’s they’d know how to get in and out.”

“That’s right, this is very good Daisy.” Booth said,

“Daisy’s right, Brock Jones was an ex-employee of Cinema Props., it’s in one of the files.”

“I’ll get someone over there right away.” Booth said.

“Thanks Daisy.” Lance said. Daisy looked at him, she was slightly hurt, but she left without saying a word to anyone about his relationship. Lance didn’t know why she was helping them, but he was thankful for it. He heard Booth call in several squad cars to head over there and begin a search.

“Aren’t we going with them?”

“Sweets, your job is here, I need you to look for anything useful.”

“Yeah but I –“

“Sweet’s the field is no place for you.”

“Agent Booth! Please… I-“

“Sweet’s what’s gotten into your head? You’re a doctor, not a cop.”

“I’m worried… about her,…” he said getting quieter in his sentence. Booth gave him and odd look; he was trying to decide if his worry was genuine, or the product of something else. Lance could feel his hands begin to sweat. Agent Booth was a very intimidating man, and he couldn’t help but feel a little scared about what agent booth would do if he realized the truth.

Booth must’ve internally realized what was really going on in Lance’s head, but because he was honest he didn’t say anything out loud – except that he should bring his work with him.

Lance let hope flutter over worry for a moment while he gathered his things and placed them in his bag before throwing it over his shoulder and walking down to the car with agent Booth. Brennan met them there, and the three of them headed across town.

“What’s he doing here?” Brennan asked.

“He’s a psychologist, in case he needs to talk down the crazy.”

“Well that’s highly unlikely that you could talk down someone who’s criminally insane.” Brennan added spitefully, as she always did hate psychology.
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Upon arrival, Lance realized he had shredded and entire piece of paper in his lap out of anxiety for the situation. He had prayed that they hadn’t hurt her… he hoped they hadn’t just killed her.

“Wait here!” Booth sternly told both of them, Brennan proceeded to exit anyway, and Lance tried to follow her example, but Brennan turned and told him the same thing. Lance rolled his eyes in frustration. He watched as the lead officer told Booth the situation, before everyone there heard the deafening bang of a gunshot. Lance for a moment stuttered back into shock – what happened? At his feet he could see a small handgun sticking out – Agent Booth’s back up. Lance hooked the gun on his back belt loop before stepping out of the car and crouching down behind a marked vehicle. He saw Booth had drawn his gun; he was now wearing a tactical vest – and walking towards the entrance of the warehouse.

Lance had enough courage to let himself follow, but not before he stole his own bullet proof vest. At the door, Booth asked him what he was doing here.

“I told you to stay in the car!”

“You said to talk them down!” Lance said.

“That was a lie for Bones! You knew that!”

“I thought you meant it!”

“You honestly think you could talk down a couple psycho paths?!”

“I can try…” Lance said.

“Well that’s what we’ll tell the director of the FBI.”

Lance now knew than Booth had to know why he was really worried. Booth and Lance entered the warehouse with several men leaving to surround the other exits. Lance drew the gun that he had stolen from agent Booth, and held it before him.

“My God, you’re even worse than Bones! Where did you get that!?”

“Your… car…” Lance admitted.

“Do you even know how to use it!?” Booth questioned. Before Sweets could answer, they could hear commotion from ahead. Peering over boxes they could see Tanna, Brock, and his accomplice, who was dead on the floor.

“This is Agent Booth! I need you to surrender and come out with your hands up.” Booth yelled.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere!” Brock said. “I’m the one with the fuckin’ hostage!”

“Surrender Ms. Fleet and we can negotiate something. You kill her you dismiss your current trial, but you’ll go back for killing your partner… and her. Your last chance is to nogotiate.”

“Unless I don’t care about living.” Brock said. “You were just supposed to find her here, dead, a few days from now – by then I’d be long gone… but seeing as how you found us first – I don’t see how either of us will leave alive.”

Lance became worried now. He was a criminal, who now had more to lose than gain, his plan had gone wrong, and would face even more jail time now if he didn’t get the death penalty. He wouldn’t care about a deal – he cared about leaving, about winning, and the only way to do that now was to kill himself… but that plan likely included killing Tanna first. Lance had to be ready if he was to save her life.

“Such a pretty girl! I know we had our rough times baby, but we can be together now, we can do that here.”

Tanna had her arms and legs taped to a chair, and her mouth was covered as well. She was crying, she shook her head no – Lance had never seen more fear in her.

Lance felt his heart sink when Brock raised his gun, aiming it at Tanna’s face. Booth couldn’t see what was happening from his angle, or Lance knew Bock would be dead already. And somehow Lance pulled the trigger, and by some grace of god, he hit the target.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!” he heard Booth say, Booth whirled past him and ran forward to see what had happened. Lance could now just see Booth standing over Brock, checking for a pulse, but from the amount of blood around him, he had to be dead. Lance came foreword and saw Tanna’s eyes flick toward him.

“Great, now if anyone asks I shot him!” Booth said, “Gimme that gun!” Lance let him yank it free from his grasp. “And you made me a terrible shot Sweets… at least make me look good.”

Lance ran over to help take off the tape that bound her hands, then he gave her a swift protective kiss on the lips.

“Come on… I don’t want to see that!” Booth said. Already irritated he was going to lie about what he knew. “If I don’t see it I don’t have to lie!” Booth whispered in their direction. Lance took the rest of the tape off of Tanna and helped her out to the nearest medic to have her looked over. Brennan ran to hug Booth once he came out; she had been worried for him as well.

“Booth!” he heard Brennan say.

“Don’t worry, I got him,” Booth looked at Sweets, “I always get ‘em.”

Lance looked down at Tanna who looked tired, although he didn’t see her scared anymore. Tanna didn’t let go of his hand, so he sat with her while the medic put a couple bandages on her, and both bodies were hauled away. While forensics took what they needed from her, Booth gave Lance the opportunity to make sure the witness made it home safely.
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Lance had driven her home – it was finally dark, and it had been the longest day of both of their lives.

“Someone will be by in the morning… to take a statement.” He told her.

“Agent.. Booth? …Does he know?” she asked.

“He doesn’t know any details, and he’d like to keep it that way.”

“So it was you who saved me.” She said smiling at him.

“You could say that.” Lance said, he opened the door for her and helped her inside. “Do you need anything?” he asked.

“We’ll I’ve got you, don’t I?”

“You do…” he said still smiling. Lance sat down on the couch with her and waited until she fell asleep before carrying her to bed. He sat with her till eight am until he left home and returned a half hour later, redressed, and with the officer for her statement.