AN: Pointless Sweets angst. Might become a story if I ever figure out where to go with it.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I don't own.
"The worst thing that's probably ever happened to him was he lost at Mortal Kombat." Booth's voice was condescending. Sweets knew that neither of the other people in the room respected him, or the job he was there to do. He also logically knew that neither of them had any idea who he was or what his life had been like, so he didn't begrudge Booth the statement. However, it didn't stop it from stinging, just a little. Maybe even more than a little. But Sweets had been trained to look at emotions as objectively as possible, so he pushed the hurt to the back of his mind, kept his face impassive, and continued with the session.
"Are you normally this protective of him, Doctor Brennan?" Professional. He was a professional. And yet, he couldn't help but wish that there was someone in the world who would defend him the way that the two people in front of him clearly defended each other. He pushed this down too. The session finished, the day finished, and it was dark by the time he got out to his car and drove home. He ate dinner alone, he sat on the couch alone, and after getting ready for bed he curled up under the covers alone, in his silent apartment.
"Sweets, I can only hope that one day you know what a real partnership is."
He couldn't deny that he did, too. Desperately.