Disclaimer: Don't own Bones. Of course. Don't own squat, actually.

The Politeness of Strangers

Seeley Booth had had a long, tiring day and the only thing that might make it better was still at the lab. He hadn't understood the presentation she was working on, even after she'd tried to explain it in simple, for her, terms. Not that it really mattered. She'd had that look, the one that said she was going to dig in and he'd be better off just letting it go. So, tonight was about picking up clothes, paying bills, and then heading over to her place to crash on the couch for awhile until she came home, way too late. Then maybe he'd be able to talk her into some late night takeout.

As he pushed through his front door, twenty years of training and instinct kicked in and he knew immediately that he was not alone. He dropped his mail and pulled his gun, slowly looking for the intruder. He didn't have to look far.

"Booth! Wait, it's me. Don't shoot," Max said, jumping up from where he'd been sitting on the couch as he saw Booth come into the room, gun drawn. A three month old copy of Sports Illustrated hit the floor next to him.

"Dammit, Max!" Booth shouted as he put away his gun, "Why the hell can't you act like a normal person and knock?"

"I've been trying that, the last two nights, but you never answered."

"So what? You decided to stalk me?" Booth asked, trying to avoid any conversation about where he'd been the last two nights, or the thirty before that.

"You aren't going to offer me a drink or anything?"

"Crap's in the kitchen, Max. I'm going to take care of a few things."

Booth went back and picked up his mail, then ran into the bedroom to grab some new clothes. He heard Max shuffle into the kitchen and start rifling through his fridge. Booth stripped off his suit and threw on a t-shirt and jeans, then dumped some more clothes in a bag. Cleaned up and a bit more relaxed, he wandered into the kitchen to hear whatever it was Max had broken in to talk about.

"I know you're busy, Booth, but if this is how you stock your fridge, you're going to starve," Max said.

Booth walked to the far end of the kitchen, ignoring Max's gesture towards the fridge that had nothing but mayo and two beers. "I doubt you came here to talk about my eating habits. What's going on, Max?"

"It's Tempe."

"It always is."

"Are you really dating some reporter?"

Booth leaned back against the counter, staring at Max for a long moment. "It's not like you for your intel to be out of date."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"It's a 'not anymore.' But let's get to Bones."

"She's hurting. She wouldn't say anything, but it hurt her to see you with someone else."

"Even if that were true, I'm not sure how it would be anyone's business but her's and mine."

"I know what you think of me as a father, Booth, but I love my daughter, and I hate seeing her in pain. But this isn't something I can fix."

"And what, exactly, do you think needs fixing? We're fine, Max. You said yourself that we were being polite."

"That's why I'm here. You two don't do polite. Polite is for strangers and coworkers you see in the hall. Knock-down drag-out passionate fighting - that's what you do. This polite thing - it's going to kill you both slowly."

"We're fine." Booth tried not to fidget, and decided to cross his arms in front of him, just to keep his hands steady.

"Is that what you really want? Is that all she is to you, Booth? A coworker that you have the occasional polite lunch with?"

"Again, what do you want, Max?"

"I want my daughter to be happy. I want her to know she has the ability to make someone else happy. I want her to find the love I found with her mother."

"And why don't you talk to her about this?"

"Don't play stupid, Booth. My daughter needs help with this. She needs your help."

"Max. Bones is fine."

"This may be your last chance."

"What that a threat? Are you trying to threaten me into ... what? Dating your daughter?"

"Not a threat, a warning. Tempe's an amazing woman. Someday, some guy's going to show up that realizes that. And he's not going to take no for an answer. And then where will you be? Do you want to have to watch her with someone else, knowing that it could have been you?"

"Isn't that what you want? To find the guy that never leaves? Like you didn't?"

Max cringed, but too his credit, he recovered quickly. "I deserve that. But yes, that's what I want. I think though, and I'd bet you and Tempe would agree, if you'd admit it, that the best man for that role is you."

Booth stood there, looking at Max for the longest time. And then, the surreal nature of the whole thing took over, and he started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Max asked.

"It's just, I've met a few girlfriend's dads in my life. You're the first one I've met who's wanted to kill me for not sleeping with his daughter instead of threatening me because I was."

"Well, I'm not telling you to go out and get her knocked up immediately or anything, but..." Max stopped speaking as Booth's laughter choked off abruptly. Something clicked in his head. Something hopeful.

"Booth, where were you these last two nights?"

Booth paused. Maybe it was the lateness of the hour, or the still fresh feeling of giddiness he'd been feeling lately. Maybe it was the fact that he sort of liked Max, or that he was getting tired of having to pretend. "There isn't going to be some guy that shows up, Max."

"Were you at Tempe's?"

"She's not going to have to watch me date someone else, ever again."

"Are you two together?"

Booth reached out and took the bottle of beer from Max's hand and dumped the last the now warm beer into the sink. After a second, he turned back to Max and simply nodded.

"And it's more than just sex, right?"

"Let me get this straight," Booth said, "You've just spent the last thirty minutes trying to shove me into your daughter's bed, and once you find out I'm already there - you get all protective?"

"Don't get smart, Booth. You know what I want to know."

"It's serious. It's what you wanted. And if you want more than that, you go to her and ask very nicely and be happy with whatever answer she gives you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a place to be, and some Thai food to pick up before I get there."

Booth walked back to his living room and grabbed the bag he'd dropped there. His apartment was empty, dusty and disused. It was getting annoying, stopping by once a week for mail and clothes. His lease was almost up, maybe it was time to have the move-in talk with is girlfriend. Certainly sometime soon, before the baby came, anyway.

Max was waiting by the front door when Booth returned, and Booth led him out the door before locking up. They walked down to the parking lot quietly. When they got to their cars, Max turned and stuck out his hand for Booth to shake. Booth paused for a moment, before taking Max's hand.

"Sorry for the grilling, but I am happy for you two. Treat her well, Booth," Max said. With that, he dropped Booth's hand and started to get in his car before turning back, "Oh, and don't wait too long before making me a grandpa, okay?"

Booth jumped into the truck quickly before he had to have that conversation. He was perfectly fine leaving that one for Bones.