Balancing the Scales
He was at his desk, head bent over a file. Brennan knocked on the doorjamb and he looked up, smiling when he saw her.
"Hi, Bones," he said, then glanced at his watch. "Did we have an appointment?"
She smiled and walked in carrying a box. "No, I just wanted to come by, see how you are," she said mysteriously. She stopped in front of his desk and leaned over to set the box in front of him.
"What's this?" he asked, faintly puzzled by her behavior.
She shrugged a little, folding her arms. "A gift. Open it."
"It's not my birthday," he said as he reached for the lid. He loved getting presents.
"I know that. But I saw this in a curio shop yesterday and thought it was perfect."
Pushing the tissue paper aside, he shot her a glance as he saw what it was. She was watching him closely with a small secretive smile on her face. Reaching in, he lifted the item out of the box and set it on his desk.
"Scales?" he said, now completely puzzled, staring at the shiny brass scales that stood about eight inches tall. He looked at her, waiting for her to explain. She did, in her most logical tone of voice.
"You told me once, when we first started working together, that before we were done, you wanted to catch as many killers as people you had sniped." He frowned. "We just caught our fiftieth, and I know you sniped forty-nine, so—"
"You thought I needed a reminder that I'd sniped forty-nine people?" he asked in an ominously quiet voice. Brennan could tell he was angry. His mouth had that pinched look he got when he was trying not to lose his temper.
"No! I wanted to give you a symbol of your accomplishment. I wanted you to see that every murderer you catch after this will more than tip the scales in your favor," she said. There was a catch in her voice and she waited, hoping he would understand.
He stared at her for almost a full minute, then his eyes dropped to the scales. Reaching out, he pushed down on one of the suspended plates and watched it dip, then swing up and down until it found the balance once more. A smile cocked a corner of his mouth up and he finally looked up at her. She suddenly realized she was holding her breath.
"Thanks, Bones," he said softly. "It's the best gift anyone's ever given me."
Relieved, she smiled. "Really?" He nodded and she was pleased. 'For once, I got it right,' she thought.
Booth touched the plate and sent it swinging again. "You know, it never really stays balanced," he said thoughtfully.
"What do you mean?"
"The bad guys go around hurting people, killing people, and we—we spend all our time chasing after them. Sometimes we catch them, sometimes we don't. But the damage they've done…it's irreversible. The lives they destroy will never be the same." His voice held such sadness, it caught at her heart.
She stepped closer. "Hey," she said softly. He looked up at her and she was startled at the sheen of tears in his eyes. "We make them pay. You told me once, they think they've gotten away with it, but most of the time we find the evidence to bring what they've done out into the light."
"But we don't get them all," he said hoarsely.
"No, but every one we get is one less that got away with it," she said firmly.
He nodded slowly, a slow smile kicking up a corner of his mouth. "Yeah. That's why I like solving cases with you."
She smiled at him, suddenly very happy to be his partner. "Me too."