She was supposed to give his eulogy tomorrow.
Caroline Julian stared at the blank legal pad that had been mocking her for the past two hours. If she was honest, the past week. Ever since Cullen had asked her to step up to the task. She'd tried multiple times, but she who prided herself on being able to make grown men twice her size quiver in the court room with her words was speechless. It irritated the crap out of her. But then it brought a small smile to her face as she recognized HE would be enjoying this. Very few things amused him more than flustering her. She could picture his cat ate the canary grin.
She let out a sigh and shook her head. It shouldn't have ended like this for him. One of the best agents she had ever had the privilege of working with, and probably ever would. He was an army ranger. Had survived multiple deployments in god forsaken war zones and dealt with the nastiest humanity had to offer. To be gunned down in a karoke bar by a crazy stalker, even if it was in protection of his partner, just wasn't right. In a just world he would have died peacefully in his sleep at a ripe old age, when his son had decades of memories with his father stored. But she'd known for a long time that this was not a just world.
Ok Caroline she thought, get your act together. Getting pissed off at the world would not get this done. She needed to focus. Start at the beginning. The first case she'd worked with him on he was the junior agent on a murder for hire. She hadn't dealt with him much during the arrest phase - just enough to get the impression that he was easy enough on the eyes, and while he hadn't said or done anything to impress her, he hadn't managed to piss her off either - which is more than most agents could say. When it came time for final trial prep, the senior agent had been pulled off onto a task force. Then the judge had thrown out some key evidence on a technicality.
She'd come from the courtroom spitting nails, what had been a pretty slam dunk case was now looking very iffy and she had to deal with a wet behind the ears FBI guy. She'd hauled him into her office to explain the situation. Thirty minutes and several decibels later he had stormed out and she had nearly busted her door slamming it behind him. That had been on a Thursday. She hadn't seen him on Friday being tied up in court on another case. On Monday morning one of the financial wonks looking a little more disheveled than was normal even for them knocked on her door, stack of file folders in his hand. An hour later he had walked her through the new evidence which would eventually lead to a conviction. As he left the office, he had muttered, "Thank GOD. Now maybe Booth will get off my ass." Further questioning had revealed that Booth had phoned the guy with a question late Friday night, another early Saturday morning, and then several more on Sunday trying to untangle a complicated financial trail leading to the payment of the hit man. The questions became more frequent and complex until finally Sunday night the forensic accountant had given up and come into the office. The two of them had worked all night finding the answers. Booth had finally left around 5:30 that morning to grab a couple hours of sleep and a shower saying that finance guys could explain it better than he could.
They had won the case and she had proposed a celebratory drink. One drink turned into two. He was unphased by her bluster and she grudgingly admitted that the new evidence had actually made her job easier. From there they had formed a tentative friendship based on mutual admiration. Over time, she had realized that her initial impression of him as a golden boy who had sailed through life on his abundant good looks and charm had been wrong. There were no grand confessions of course, that wasn't his style, but bit by bit she came to recognize that his path to the Hoover had as many road blocks and potholes as her own. When she transferred down to New Orleans to be able to take care of her dying mother, they'd kept in touch. He'd been one of the first to welcome her back when she'd returned to DC. There had been many late nights planning strategy and arguing tactics. When she'd reach the limits of her patience he'd crack a joke with that crooked grin of his. When he'd reach the limits of his, she'd channel her grand-mere, and talk him down. In between they'd offer tidbits of personal information between courses of Chinese food. Damn, she was going to miss him.
Her pad was still empty. No, that wasn't entirely accurate. A couple of tears had warped the blank pages.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxx
The morning of the funeral was sunny and bright. Mocking her mood.
When it came time to speak, she was a nervous as her first trial. And as unprepared.
"I knew Seeley Booth. He was a good man, who earned my respect and affection-and I don't like many people. Booth had a selfless commitment to his work, first in the military and then the FBI. Two weeks ago, he made the ultimate sacrifice, giving his life to save his partner. And in that brave act he showed us what greatness we are all capable of. May God's mercy and love shine on Seeley Booth as he takes his place beside the Lord."
She placed the rose on his casket, feeling woefully inadequate. Hoping that somehow he understood, that in the end, she had opted to keep her memories private. Then all hell broke loose.
After the chaos had ended, she had hugged him briefly and then lightly smacked him on the shoulder saying that she was glad to see him and that he damn well had some explain' to do after he'd smoothed things over with the squint squad. She was glad it wasn't her that had THAT task. She was also glad when he quickly took off, she would have hated to have to explain why here hands were shaking as she tried to unlock the Gremlin.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
A few hours later, after the latest wrinkle in the Gormogon case had been reported, and she'd gotten the full story from Cullen, she'd heard through the grape vine that he was back in the office. She grabbed the bottle and headed down to the fourth floor.
He was unpacking a box when she rapped on the door frame.
He didn't look up, "Just add whatever you took from my office to the pile. No questions asked."
She smirked, "Been getting a lot of that, Cher?"
He looked up, "Oh. Hey Caroline." He shrugged, "Yeah. Evidently it's easier to get staplers, keyboards, post-its and other office essentials from the dead guys office than the supply room or procurement. Luckily Cullen managed to keep most of my office furniture from being scavenged. "
She nodded, "But he had to start packing up your office to keep up appearances."
"A little, turns out most of the boxes were for show. " He paused, then really looked at what she was carrying, "YOU took my good bottle of scotch?"
"Of course, since I gave it to you, I figured it was only right." She narrowed her gaze at him and harrumphed, "Would you want it to have gone to ANYONE else?" She waited for him to shake his head, "If it makes you feel any better I was going to use it to toast you when I won convictions on our outstanding cases. "
He gave a short laugh, "That does help." He sobered and then added, "And, thank you. Cullen told me that you read him the riot act about classifying my death in the line of duty so that Parker would get a bigger insurance pay out. "
She put the bottle on his desk and waved her hand, "That was nothin' Cher. 'Though I was pretty put out when Cullen was tryin to tell me not to worry my pretty little head about it. " Then her gaze softened, "And I can't tell you how glad I am that we don't have to fight that battle with HR. I have missed your broad shoulders around this place the last couple of weeks. I am very happy that it was not a permanent situation."
He blushed a little at her words. "Thanks." He grabbed the bottle, "You wanna toast that?"
She raised her eyebrows, "Shouldn't you still be on pain killers?"
"Didn't take any today, needed to be sharp for the funeral."
Noting that his face was a little pale, making the bruise from Dr. Brennan's right hook a little more obvious, and that he had raised the bottle with his left hand, "Seeley Booth. I didn't ask if you HAD taken meds, I asked if you SHOULD be taking them."
"I'm fine Caroline."
"Uh huh." She said, her tone conveying her skepticism at his declaration. Deciding he wasn't likely to be more forthcoming she changed gears, "And is everything fine with the Jeffersonian?"
He sighed and she noted the left hand rubbed his forehead while his right stayed on his knee, he was in some discomfort. "I think so." He looked up and exhaled, "Seems like Bones wasn't notified that I was alive even though she was supposed to. I think it'll be a while before I'm out of the dog house with her."
"Oh Cher. " She shook her head sympathetically, "I don't envy you puttin' the lid back on that can of worms." At his glum expression she admonished gently, "The drink can wait. You've had a long day, and I imagine the last couple of weeks haven't been a picnic. And, if Gorgomon is active again, you're not going to be sitting around eating bon bons anytime soon. Go home, get some rest."
He started to protest and she interrupted, "Do you REALLY want to get on my bad side your first day back from the dead?" At his head shake, she added, "Glad to see that there was no brain damage from your adventures. Now grab your keys, you can walk me to my car."
He stood and gave a slight bow, and offered his arm, "Ms. Julian, it would be my honor."
She ignored the arm, giving him a gentle hug instead, "Damn right, Seeley Booth."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
A/N: Caroline's eulogy came from the episode "The Pain in the Heart"