Flirting Advice

Summary: Zach asks the wrong (or the right) people for help flirting with Naomi, Hodgins is absolutely no help whatsoever, and the "lesson" ends better than Holly had thought it would.

Timeframe: Set very early on in "It's My Life," somewhere between 'The Man in the SUV' and 'The Boy in the Tree.'

Brennan had some pretty interesting books. She also had some really dry ones that were as thick as my hand, but for the most part, her novels were interesting, even if they weren't written by her. In the time between cases and while I still had to have supervision, I was enjoying my time in the lab by reading from her collection. The only issue was that I had to stay close to an employee who could keep an official eye on me, so while she was out at a meeting with her publisher, I had to venture out of her office and stick near Hodgins.

Where Hodgins went, Zach wasn't very far away. I jammed a chair into the corner of the Medico-Legal platform and sat down with my back to the edge, tucking myself in neatly and putting my feet up on a secondary chair to the side. I cracked the book open and held it against my thighs, and every couple of minutes, I'd spare a look up as I turned the page. I needed to know if someone moved, just so I wouldn't have any surprises. Hodgins had brought his work with him to a desk on the other side of the platform, and Zach was sitting at a computer monitor several yards away from me, staring with intent focus at the screen.

I could've stayed at the FBI building just as easily, but something about being there put me off. There were still agents who would talk about me, look at me, and speculate about my personal life, what I was like, how I grew up. Most of them did it behind my back in what I'm sure they thought was an act of courtesy, but it only made me more paranoid. They were still interested in that I shot Thompson, that I chased Masruk, and one badly-timed comment about how Booth's shot at the terrorist ended with the man's blood on me left him fetching coffee for the agents on that floor for the rest of the day. Although Booth had successfully proved a point about talking about his own actions, this was perceived as a defense of me. While a lot of the agents did get the message that our lives weren't for gossip fodder, there were still some who didn't know how to stow their curiosities, and it made me feel defensive and out-of-place. At the lab, it was quiet, it was brightly-lit, there were big security guards within shouting distance, and none of the Medico-Legal team assigned to Booth seemed to care anymore about what had happened in the past.

I tried to stay riveted on the book, but it was hard to do when Zach just became increasingly more obvious about his distractedness. The longer he went without doing anything, the more bothered I became. What was he doing within close range of me that wasn't visible? Then, after that paranoid question, I got a little worried that maybe he was having some distressing realization. Maybe he was having a small seizure. I felt like I owed it to them to at least make sure nothing was wrong.

"What's up with you?" I asked suddenly, shutting the book with my finger still between the pages to mark the spot.

Hodgins glanced up when I started talking with no warning, but quickly saw that everything was calm and went back to his computer. Zach's squinted eyes strained to read the computer (or whatever he was imagining right in front of his face). The grad student paused before he answered, as if weighing how to word his issues.

"Naomi told me I should flirt more," Zach shared slowly, staring critically in the direction of his computer. I rolled my eyes and sank back into my corner. Of course, it's also entirely possible he's just being strange. "… But I don't know how."

"Back up," I held up an open hand. "Naomi?"

"My girlfriend," Zach answered distractedly, not looking at me.

Hodgins made a loud, derisive snort where he was working. Eavesdropper, I accused mentally. The entomologist pushed his chair away from his desk and swiveled the seat around to face our direction. "Sort-of girlfriend," he corrected, making eye contact with me and excluding Zach. "She's his on-off, possessive, irritable female colleague who uses him as a booty call and says they're dating because it sounds nicer." He glanced at Zach's profile sympathetically. I understood pretty quickly that Hodgins didn't exactly like the woman Zach chose to keep company with.

Zach acted like he didn't hear his friend say anything. My eyes went between Hodgins and Zach carefully, trying to determine as much as I could before I said anything about someone else's personal life. What Zach got up to in the privacy of his or his 'girlfriend's' bedroom was none of my business, but I could see why Hodgins didn't like Naomi, if she called them something they weren't for her own sake. If Zach thought that they were dating, but Naomi just thought he was convenient for… other purposes, then it might just be a matter of time before a miscommunication ended in some hurt feelings. In my opinion, people should call each other what they are, not put nice bows on top of things to make them look grand. There's nothing shameful about sex, but you should feel bad if you lead someone on for your own peace of mind. On that note, if Naomi didn't feel comfortable admitting what she was doing with Zach, then maybe she wasn't mature enough or ready to be doing it at all.

And that wasn't even getting into the adjectives Hodgins had used. Possessive? Depending on what he meant, that could mean she wanted a monogamous relationship (although, from what I'd observed of him, Hodgins wasn't the womanizing type to apply that request to 'possessiveness'), or it could mean she tried to control who Zach was friends with. Again, it wasn't my place to comment, and I didn't really want to get involved; I had to assume that he was smart enough to get out of a toxic relationship, and that he had friends to help him if he needed it. I was some loser hanging around their lab for a short time, so I was not the person to be discussing relationship issues with.

Still… I went back to Zach's and Hodgins' differing descriptions of Naomi (whoever she really was). "You're cool with that?" I asked Zach skeptically.

"There is mutual benefit from our relationship," he answered with a puzzled frown, finally taking his eyes away from his computer. He looked like I'd asked a really dumb question. I couldn't get why someone would voluntarily be with another person who didn't agree on what they were to each other. If you're not looking for the same things, then what's the point?

Hodgins smiled sarcastically at Zach, then met eyes with me again. "Last month, she called him a disabled monkey because he didn't return her call in an hour." Rolling my eyes, I cracked my book back open and arched my back, stretching out my spine before settling back into my corner to read some more. Hodgins was trying to include me, which I appreciated, but I wasn't part of the team; I didn't need to be privy to the jokes and experiences they'd shared with each other.

"I was busy!" Zach defended himself, holding his shoulders higher.

"I'm not saying you're the crazy one here." Hodgins' placating tone was exchanged for a teasing one when he smirked and said, "Savor the moment," implying that it didn't happen all too often.

Zach let it go. Most people would've retorted, but the intern just… it wasn't even that he 'let it slide,' he just didn't even care enough to respond directly to that prod. "How do I learn to flirt?" He wondered thoughtfully, sounding honestly bewildered. Someone's never heard of Google. I scolded myself for still paying attention, forcing myself to focus on the ink on the crisp white paper.

Hodgins chuckled. "You give up hope," he snickered delightedly, "Because I'll believe it when I see it. And then I'll ask who you are and what you've done with Zach."

I hadn't had so much difficulty understanding a book's content since struggling through AP Chemistry. The few trips I'd made to Hodgins lab had made me immensely grateful that I'd trudged through that class and come out with an A, because without the foundational knowledge, I would probably be hopelessly lost. Although it was frustrating not to know immediately what the book was trying to tell me, it was an academic challenge, the likes of which I hadn't had in a while.

I was getting lost in the refresher course on Lewis dot structures for mapping covalent and ionic chemical bonding when the sound of my name snagged my attention again. I looked up guardedly; it had only been a minute or so since Hodgins had offered his oh-so-supportive advice.

"Hm?" I asked Zach, finding that he was the one watching me.

Hodgins crossed his arms and pushed his feet against the floor to rock his chair. He looked like he was actually trying to prolong the conversation that I'd thought was already concluded. Procrastinator, I accused when I noticed how he was grinning at me mischievously. That grin made me a little bit nervous. There was no telling what he might've been about to do – it could've been anything from a taunt to a threat, in my experience, and although I desperately wanted to believe that the newest people in my life were above that, a history of being beaten down physically, verbally, and emotionally took a toll on one's perspective.

"This juice not up your alley, Gossip Girl?" He mocked friendlily.

I huffed quietly and looked down at my pages pointedly. "I'm just eagerly awaiting my return to the stifling confines of my hotel," I drawled, voice dropping lower at the end and paying less attention to him. I was trying to send a message without being rude.

Judging by his reaction, which was to put his hands up and reluctantly rotate his chair back to his work station, he got it loud and clear. My posture relaxed slightly – it was still a little surprising when my wishes were respected without the use of aggression being used to back them up.

I moved on from the Lewis structures and onto the exceptions of the rule to nonmetals binding to metals, but it hadn't been very long before the quiet of the platform was shattered yet again. This time, it was done by Zach, who shot bolt upright in his chair and blurted, "You can teach me!"

Impulsively, my neck snapped up when he talked loudly, so I saw that he was staring right at me. "I can what now?" I asked with trepidation, staring at him cautiously and holding the book a little tighter.

"You can teach me how to flirt," Zach rephrased, his voice taking on a stubborn, mulish quality that made a quiet groan fight to escape my throat. His brown eyes locked on mine meaningfully, trying to convey hope and – wait. No. Are those-? They were. Zach was enacting the 'puppy dog eyes' trick.

I shifted in my chair and pulled my legs down, putting my feet on the floor. "I'm really not a good teacher," I excused evasively.

Aside from how odd it was that someone was asking me for flirting advice (least of all Zach), I just was not comfortable with flirting. Thankfully, most of the flirting aimed in my direction had only been since I was around thirteen or fourteen, and given that I'd been in school with people older than me, not many had been interested, even in high school. Since graduation, my experience with flirtation had been the demented version that I personally liked to refer to as 'harassment.' Flirting invited and encouraged attention, and the last thing I had ever really wanted to do was encourage someone to pay more attention to me – so not only was the principle discomfiting, but I had virtually no experience.

I just didn't want to admit that. I wasn't insecure about not having a significant other, or not having ever been on a date, or not wearing makeup… but I did not want to admit that I'd never flirted. I was seventeen. For Christ's sake, most people flirted when they were in their early teenagers with their friends, and then got twice the practice when they started doing it with their crushes.

Zach was like a dog with a bone. Now that he'd gotten the idea in his head, he refused to let it go. Personally, I chose to believe it was because he wasn't aware enough of social cues to notice that I was uncomfortable.

"I'm an excellent student," he vowed instantly, writing off any concerns I had with my teaching technique. "I can learn anything, regardless of how poorly it's presented."

Wait a minute. That is not what I meant. I could explain things just fine, but before I'd so much as narrowed my eyes, I remembered that I didn't want to get involved, and challenging his assertion that I was a bad presenter would only drag me further in.

"Okay," I said indulgently. "But I mean, I'm not really-"

"What, kid?" Hodgins smirked, sticking his nose in where it didn't belong yet again. He was like a leech, attaching himself to any disturbance within the lab, just so he wouldn't have to focus on getting his paperwork done. "Scared of admitting you can do something normal?"

I closed my mouth with a click of my teeth and glared at the entomologist. Thanks for that, I almost snarled, before I forcibly relaxed and recalled that it was a joke. Just a silly, stupid joke, not meant to offend. I just… I wanted them to think I had abnormal hobbies, like I'd told Booth. I didn't want them to think I was some weird, freak brat who didn't know how to do simple things that practically everyone knew.

I set my jaw and ground my teeth. Hodgins had just made my decision for me. I couldn't back down from a challenge like that without raising more questions than admitting I didn't know how to flirt would've. Even Hodgins would have noticed it being out of character to let a remark like that go unheard. If I proved I could do something "normal," there would be less curious inquiries about my past, I reasoned.

I stood up from my chair, turning the book upside down and resting it on the one I'd been using as a foot rest. The spine faced the ceiling while the cushion held my place for me. "… Say something about my eyes," I told Zach, walking over to stand beside his chair. About two feet stayed between his desk and my leg.

Zach looked up at me with a perplexed expression. It was kind of cute. "Why?" He questioned.

I blinked. Are you…? Yep. He's serious. "To flirt with me," I replied, trying not to sound too exasperated.

Zach looked very, very uncomfortable as he surveyed my eyes. His gaze left mine and wandered to my left cheek and lips before he swallowed thickly. Had he started sweating, I'd have just told him to forget about it and not give himself an anxiety fit.

The student held his hands uselessly on his lap, clueless what to do. He fidgeted and the chair squeaked. "They're… very symmetrically-positioned on your face," he offered, holding his breath for feedback.

For a long moment, Hodgins and I both stared at Zach with complete what the hell expressions. I held my hands out at my sides demandingly and Hodgins looked as if he was suffering from severe second-hand embarrassment. The scientist turned pink and he covered his face with his hand, propping his elbow up on his table.

Zach looked between Hodgins' reaction and mine, then cringed. "Not good?" He guessed dejectedly.

I didn't really want to hurt his feelings (he looked a little crushed), but one of the things life had firmly ingrained into me was that a legitimate perception of your own social skills was vital to getting along with others. As long as Zach knew he was socially inapt, he was less likely to try to do things he didn't understand. At that moment, I was seriously concerned that if he was offered supportive feedback for… whatever that was, then he might do it again on someone less accustomed to his behavior and have the police called on him.

"That was less 'flirty' and more 'I want to drag you into my dark, windowless van,'" I brutally deadpanned.

Zach winced and held up his hand to indicate me. "Your eyes are blue," he offered.

Well, I mean… that's true… it's not flirty, but at least it's not nearly as creepy.

I took a deep breath and realized I was probably going to have to change my strategy. At his work station, Hodgins covered his mouth and started to giggle while he watched the comedy demonstration unfolding before him. Zach turned his face down to his computer. Because I was standing while he sat, I could look down in mild concern and see his ears turning red.

Something motivated me to stand up for him. I nodded towards Hodgins and scoffed, "Hey, you wanna take a turn, Happy?" Hodgins' eyes widened and he shook his head fervently. His laughter ceased.

After a second, during which Zach got his blush under control and rediscovered his determination, he looked back up to me with more frustration. "What did I do wrong?"

I leaned against the railing beside his desk, putting my hands behind me to wrap my fingers around the highest silver bar. It was easier to face Zach, and this way, he didn't have to crane his neck as far to see my face.

"Tell me something I couldn't see with a mirror," I prompted. For the second time, it struck me how strange it felt to be coaching someone on how to flirt with me. At least Zach wasn't a horny sixteen-year-old, and Hodgins didn't have a camera.

Zach's brows drew closer and he opened his mouth to say something, stopped, and bit his lip. After considering me thoughtfully for several seconds, he hesitantly admitted, "I don't understand." Even Hodgins looked sympathetic to Zach's defeated and upset tone. It wasn't just that he was having difficulty applying it; Zach truly didn't understand even the principle. "I can't see more than you could see with a mirror."

"Um…" I tried to think of another way to explain it. "Well, the point of flirting is to show interest. Don't state facts, give compliments," I proposed. "Anyone can say what color my eyes are, but only someone somewhat interested in me would bother to get my attention and take time out of their day to specifically say they like something about me." Which felt like a foreign concept, but if this was what I had to do to pay them back for their kindness and hospitality… I could deal with feeling ridiculous for a few minutes.

"Like this," Hodgins intervened, clearing his throat. "Ahem. Holly, your pale skin and black hair make you look like a vampire."

I shut my eyes, inhaled and exhaled deeply, and fought not to scowl.

"That's flirting?" Zach checked with me.

"I don't feel flattered," I assured him, opening my eyes and glowering at Hodgins, who was proudly chuckling.

"Alright, fine," he kept snickering. "Um…" he cleared his throat again and pinched the inside of his wrist to stop giggling at me. I noticed, but I let that one slide. I could always bug him about something else. "Um… you're wearing your hair differently," he said, gesturing to his head. "It's nice; it brings out your cobalt eyes and makes them shine. I love that about you." His voice got soft and sweet and his eyes a little entranced. A few seconds after her finished speaking, he shook his head and his tone changed again. "Except not, because you're seventeen."

Oh, good, I'm not the only one who thought that was a little distressing.

Hopefully, it would be a given that Zach wasn't supposed to throw in something like Hodgins' last comment. He and I were much closer to the same age, anyway, so given the context, it shouldn't have been as awkward if he ever managed to successfully flirt.

"Close enough," I grumbled. The brunet's head was tilted and he kept looking between us like a referee, his right hand occasionally moving as if he wanted to take notes. "Just – don't ask if she's from Tennessee," I told Zach.

"She's from Minnesota," he automatically responded.

Hodgins snorted. "No, man – it's a line," he explained.

I flicked my eyes over Hodgins and then back to Zach and patiently explained why it was a line he shouldn't ever use. "Except the punchline implies that it's okay to 'rate' women." Most people – Naomi probably included – would know the punchline from the intro, and at that point, it was on Zach if he ended up with a sore face.

Zach's frustrated face made a return with a vengeance. "I don't want to rate her," he told me insistently. "I just want her to stop being angry with me."

"Look…" I sighed and held my hands out to stop him before he got more upset. "It's a social skill. Those come with practice. Just be polite and respectful. If she wants you to flirt, odds are she feels like you're not giving her enough attention. Tell her she's pretty, kiss her cheek – whatever works for the two of you. Just don't lie and say you like her shirt if it's actually terrible."

"And sound amazed when you ask how she's managed to hide her horns so well," Hodgins chipped in.

"And don't listen to Hodgins," I amended myself, who laughed quietly and smiled at his own wit. "Can I go back to my book now?" I asked them both, looking over at Hodgins, dismissing him as useless to me, and turned my questioning eyes to Zach, who I felt was more likely to be kind.

"Embarrassed, Blue Eyes?" Hodgins teased, still finding the entire uncomfortable ordeal to be hilarious.

"For you, yes," I said flatly. The man covered his chest with his hand, acting like I'd offended him, and sniffed while he turned back to his computer. Finally. If I'd known that was how to get him to shut up and stop screwing with my attempted 'lesson,' I'd have done it a while ago. I took Zach's lack of answer as an affirmative to my plea and turned around, walking back to my chair and picking up my – Brennan's – book. "I don't like flirting," I complained. "I don't know what made you think to ask."

Zach looked back to his computer, although his expression wasn't much improved from when I'd asked him what was bothering him in the first place. "I assumed you would have a lot of experience," he offered by means of explanation, his tone already getting spacy as his concentration drifted elsewhere.

Before sitting down again, I tightened my grip on the chemistry book and stared at Zach. "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, a little insulted.

When he heard my irritation, Zach looked up. Realizing he'd said something wrong again, he justified his assumption hurriedly. "I thought people flirted a lot with you because you're very beautiful," he defended, leaning slightly away from me.

I covered up my surprise as I sat down, relaxing. So he hadn't really meant anything by it. It was still all too easy to assume that people thought the worst of me, even this particular collection of people. Especially this collection of people, with the right provocation, because they were so much more privileged. Higher education, better housing, better reputations, more finances, collegial respect…

It occurred to me that Zach had finally gotten something right. The warm feeling in my chest wasn't just because I was no longer standing underneath one of the ceiling vents.

"Now I feel flattered," I commented quietly so that Hodgins didn't hear. Oblivious, the entomologist continued with his task at his desk, but Zach looked up quickly from his monitor. I felt his eyes on me for a long minute, during which I went back to my reading, before he looked away.

Curious, I picked up my head to check out his reaction. He had a small, proud smile on his face. Though it fell gradually as he became enveloped in work again, the satisfaction I'd gotten from it remained.