milliways_bar | (no subject)

When your colleague and former intern confesses to working with a serial killer, it generates a lot of paperwork.

Especially when you work for the federal government.

Higher-ups want to know how it could have happened, if there had been any signs, how it had slipped through the cracks. They obtain this information via lengthy and detailed questionnaires. Brennan, who had hired Zach as her intern three years ago, has a stack only slightly shorter than Cam’s, who, as the boss, is dealing with the worst of it.

Brennan is slowly and steadily working her way through hers, her forehead propped on her hand. It’s all a waste of time—the questions and reports, and the psych evaluations for the team that the administration is discussing. The damage has already been done. Extreme CYA measures now aren’t going to undo it.

But Brennan can’t even work up the wherewithal to care. She just neatly completes another page, flips it over into the ‘finished’ pile, and starts on the next.

One foot in front of the other.

[Post-Pain In The Heart]

[Work may call for slowtime]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I believe the two scenarios you've just outlined can often be considered one and the same."

All college students look tired and are surrounded by paperwork. But not everyone who looks tired and is surrounded by paperwork is a college student.

"I'm alright. The Medico-Legal lab is under an administrative review, but that's to be expected."

"How are you?"

"Second semester of freshman year busy," Hannah says.

Also, alternately not speaking to and exchanging angry e-mails with her dad, but that's not worth getting into right now.

"'Administrative review'?"

Hannah looks at the papers.

"More surveys?"

"Questionaires. From the Jeffersonian. Some from the FBI. And the prosecutor's office. I submitted a report, but they want clarification and detail on a number of points."

Fifty-seven particular points, by Brennan's count.

Her mouth twists humorously.

"I believe there is some concern among the Jeffersonian's administration that they may be sued by the families of some of the victims."

"Well, you know, you do have to sue somebody," Hannah says.

"How are you doing? With . . . you know, with all that?"

Hannah does not mean the fifty-seven points of clarification.

"I am....addressing issues as they arise," Brennan says.

It's not the most helpful of answers, but it's all she's got. The ripple effect of what Zach had done just keeps getting wider.

Structure of the lab. The need to assign a new intern. Dealing with the Addy family. Keeping a worried eye on Hodgins. Organizing evidence for the Gormogon case. The list keeps growing.

"And I am saying 'no comment' a great deal," she adds dryly.

Brennan is all for freedom of the press. She just wishes the press would learn to be a bit more restrained sometimes.

"It's a useful phrase," Hannah says.

It probably doesn't help that there's a best-selling author in the middle of what was already a pretty juicy story.

"And that's . . . the whole thing kinda just sucks."

It's not especially eloquent, and it's a hell of an understatement, but . . . yeah.

"I would have to agree with that assessment."

Sometimes a colloquialism expresses things better than more complicated verbiage ever could.

"One reporter even managed to get my home number. He was unfortunate enough that Max answered the phone."

And the intrepid newshound had gotten an earful for his pains. And while Brennan knows that, from a public relations standpoint, having your father blast a member of the press is not a good thing, it had still been extremely satisfying.

Besides. It's not like the situation can deteriorate any more from this point.

". . . I think he was probably fortunate that he got your home number, and not your address."

Because Max Keenan and someone he thinks is bothering one of his kids?

It ends messy.

"I imagine that they do have it. I'm not difficult to find," Brennan says. "But no one has shown up at my front door yet, fortunately."

For her, and for the reporters.

"No one has bothered you, have they? I don't know how widely known your association with us is, but.....well, it wouldn't take too much digging."

Hannah is a frequent and documented visitor. And occasionally you wind up with a Jeffersonian staff member who is more loose-lipped than he or she should be.

Hannah shakes her head.

"Not yet."

Which doesn't mean it won't happen.

"If it does, I'll deal with it."

She's from Neptune. It's not the first bizarre thing she's been tangentially caught up in.

"If it does, call me or Cam. Or Booth. We'll deal with it."

No second semester freshman needs to get caught up in a sensationalized news story.

No matter how good their prior preparation is.

"Hmph."

Hannah is, at present, unconvinced of Dr. Sayoran's ability to effectively deal with a crisis. She would have squelched the speculation with Dr. Hodgins, if she were good at that sort of thing.

"I'll call you.

"Agent Booth might shoot somebody."

Well, no. But he might want to.

"He wouldn't shoot anyone."

Brennan actually smiles a little.

"An unlucky ice cream truck, maybe."

"If the ice cream truck had it coming . . . "

Hannah shrugs.

Some ice cream trucks just need killing.

"Have you . . . um, have you talked to Dr. Addy at all?"

"Only a little. The doctors at the psychiatric facility want to complete their evaluations with minimal outside influence. Once that's completed, they say he can have visitors regularly."

Brennan's still not entirely sure if she'll be one of them.

"He's alright. He's taking everything very calmly."

"That, somehow, doesn't surprise me.

"I think I'd be even more shocked if you told me was all hysterical than I was when Agent Booth told me . . ." Hannah trails off.

Yeah.

This is awkward.

The silence stretches on for several moments.

"It is a difficult mental adjustment," Brennan finally says, lamely.

"Yeah."

Just a bit.

". . . how's Dr. Hodgins?"

"He hasn't said much around the lab."

It's worrying. Hodgins is never as quiet as he's been the last couple of weeks.

"But Angela says that he's taking it very badly."

She hadn't elaborated. But Brennan had gotten the distinct impression that Hodgins's state the night after Zach confessed hadn't been pretty.

Hannah nods.

Because, really, there's not a lot to say here.

It's a mess of a situation, anyway you slice it.

Brennan sighs.

"We'll adapt."

As a species, or just as individuals, you adapt or you don't survive.

"Very Darwinian."

It's kind of a day for it.

"Appropriate. For today," Brennan notes.

She wonders briefly what Darwin would say about the sort of adaptability that would allow an otherwise rational and intelligent individual to kill in the name of logic.