Spoilers: This story's been kicking around for a while and I totally forgot about it… This and another I forgot about both fit rather well together, so I thought I'd play around with them a little. Experiment… Hehe.
Disclaimer: I really gotta get back to my policy of one story at a time. I get totally lost if I don't.
Author's Note: The fire alarms at school went off twice today. Twice! Honestly.
Brennan jumped at the sound of her name echoing through the near-empty building. She didn't have to turn to see the face that belonged to the voice.
"What do you want, Booth?" she asked flatly without turning. She now knew from working with Booth why people were always told not to make eye contact with psychopaths and feral animals.
"Nice to see you, too, Bones," he complained, mostly in an attempt to get her to turn around. It didn't work. Brennan's torso remained parallel to the floor as she leaned over the shiny lab table. Booth briefly mused on how her back would be in twenty years before remembering his reason for coming here. Still, he took a few seconds just to watch her before shaking himself out of it at just the right time.
God knows he'd had enough practice.
"Where is everyone, Bones?" he asked pointedly. Brennan finally looked up, hardly having noticed anyone being there at all, let alone leaving. She'd been working since before the official start of the work day, so very little had registered.
"I don't know, Booth," she said, half way between irritated and confused. "I'm not their kipper," she added, a little more irritation this time. Booth didn't bother mentioning that in being the boss of half of them, she kind of was.
"Keeper. Wanna hazard a guess?" he asked cryptically. By now, he was standing less than two metres from her, leaning a haunch on a near table. Brennan rolled her eyes.
"No," was all she said before turning back to the table. Booth pulled a face.
"Well, Bones, it's one o'clock," he informed her, sounding almost proud. Brennan just stared at him with her so what? face. "Lunch time, Bones." He paused for effect, and to let it sink in. "And you're joining me."
"Joining you?" she asked calmly, absently. Her attention had been turned back to the pelvis sitting calmly on the table. She wasn't registering a thing he was saying, genius or not.
"Yes, Bones. Joining me. For lunch," he clarified. Again, Brennan didn't react.
"I can't, I'm busy," she answered in a monotone, more out of habit than anything. Denying Booth was usually the appropriate – or at least safer - option. It was Booth's turn to roll his eyes.
"Bones." He waited until she turned to him. "What are your office hours?" he asked sweetly. Brennan frowned.
"Nine till five," she answered, doubt and caution in her voice. Where was this going?
"What a way to make a living," Booth muttered to himself shuddering slightly. He hated that song. "And you've been here how long?" he added. Brennan suddenly saw his reasoning.
"Booth, I know you're concerned, but I'm perfectly fine… what?" she asked when he slumped and sighed theatrically.
"I'm hungry, Bones!" he complained. "Come on," he urged. Brennan looked at him with a small frown as if deciding whether or not to accept. Booth's eyebrows rose slightly. "I'm buying?"
Brennan smiled a little. She knew a good deal when she heard one; she reminded herself to be adamant more often. "Fine," she conceded. "But next time: call."
"Don't I always?" Booth muttered as he ushered his favourite Squint off the lunch-stealing platform. He smirked as a hand connected with the back of his head.
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