A/N: Hello! This is just a little scenario that got caught in my mind. I hope you like it :-)
Subtext
They sit at their usual table, Booth's elbows resting on the table while Temperence picks at her salad. He watches her casually push a small tomato to the side, sticking the tines of her fork into the now unearthed cucumber slice.
His thoughts wander to that morning. A previous trip to Borders had left him with what The New York Times called, "Temperence Brennan's most daring novel yet" and while he laid in bed, dragging out the last few minutes before preparing for work, he read the first chapter. The case was introduced, along with a new character.
James Veith.
And he found this character strikingly familiar.
"I read your book this morning," Booth says casually. He studies her face for any mark of surprise but all she does is incline her head in appreciation and say, "Really? How do you like it?"
"It's good."
A waiter places Booth's burger in front of him and he says a quick thank you before telling her, "That James Veith is interesting."
She reaches across the table and takes a fry from his plate. Popping it into her mouth she chews and asks, "Why is that?"
"He felt kind of, I don't know, familiar."
One perfect eyebrow arches in question. "How so?"
Feeling like an inane player in a version of "Who's On First" he goes, "Bones, come on."
"What?"
"James Veith is me."
Her eyebrows furrow as she says, "No, Booth, James Veith is not you."
"He is just like me. His personality, everything, completely me."
"Booth-"
"He's an FBI Officer. He has brown hair."
"Those are all characteristics, Booth. None of which prove that the character is based off of you."
Leaning back in his chair, Booth tries to think of another way to prove his point. Despite what Bones told him, Booth had not a single doubt in his mind that she had thought of him while writing that character. In a last ditch attempt he blurts out, "Charisma."
"What?"
"James Veith is charismatic. I'm charismatic." He lets out a triumphant bark of a laugh and leans back in his chair.
"Hodgins is charismatic," Bones points out.
"Hodgins?" Booth spits out, rocking forward in his seat. "Seriously, you are comparing me to Hodgins?"
"Sweets has a certain type of charisma."
"Now, that's just insulting. The guy spends Friday nights with cat scans."
"Booth, I can see where you are coming from. It is very common for authors to base their characters on people they know. And to be honest, I did draw inspiration from those around me. But I did this from everyone, Booth, not just you."
"But-"
"I'm sorry, Booth, but the character is not you."
Both are silent and the scene returns to where it began. Temperence returns to her salad and Booth silently watches her push the small tomato around her plate. Irrationally bothered by this he spits, "Why don't you just eat the damn thing?"
She looks at him in surprise. "Because I don't want to."
"I thought all you vegans liked vegetables."
"A tomato is a fruit."
"Same general idea," he scoffs.
"Hey, don't get mad at me just because I didn't base a character on you."
Petulantly crossing his arms over his chest he pouts, "I'm not mad."
"You're acting like Parker."
"Hey-"
"Besides, why would you want me to model a character after you? That just seems like a mark of excessive egotism which, to be honest Booth, you really don't need more of."
"Whoah Bones, that was a little uncalled for."
"Well," she says levelly, "I think your being cross with me for not modeling a character after you is a little uncalled for."
"I'm not cross with you."
"Your tone implies otherwise."
Finding this absurd he scoffs, "My tone? My tone-really-are you kidding me, Bones?"
She doesn't speak for a moment, looking at him in a manner that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand. He knows she's studying him and after an almost painful moment of silence she tells him, "You are very hostile today, Booth."
"I-"
"You should tell Gordon about this."
"I should tell Gordon-" he cuts himself off, shaking his head obstinately. "You're getting a little batty, Bones. Too many hours with femurs and spatulas, that's what I think."
"Scapula," she articulates. "And there is absolutely nothing batty about me. It is a fact, Booth, that you are exceedingly hostile today."
"Because you refuse to admit that you based a character on me."
"Let's just agree to disagree," she proposes, reaching for another fry. He swats her hand away and says, "First off Bones, there is no such thing as agreeing to disagree. And, this is my food. That-" he gestures at her salad, "is your food."
Temperence frowns.
He grabs his burger and takes a rather aggressive bite. While he chews, a rather terrifying thought enters his mind. He sets the burger back on its plate and asks, "It's not Sully, is it?"
Blue eyes the size of saucers meet his. "Why would you think that?"
"Well, he's a brunette. He's an FBI agent-"
"All characteristics that can belong to anyone," Bones finishes. "Look, can we just drop this?"
"Can you just tell me who he is based on?"
She squares her jaw and answers, "Fine. I will tell you."
He grins and rubs his hands together excitedly. "Alright, let's hear it."
"My dad."
He gapes at her. "Your dad? Your felon of a dad?"
She shrugs and answers, "I used his personality. I mean, obviously my dad isn't an FBI agent."
"Far from it," Booth spits.
"But I thought his personality would make for an interesting character. So, there."
Booth exhales loudly, rather bothered by how things had turned out. He glances around the room in frustration and then his eyes return to his partner. Desperate he says, "Really?"
She nods.
"This is unbelievable."
"Can I have a fry now?"
He hesitates but then sighs and nods. She is already reaching forward as he says, "Fine, have your fry."
She smiles briefly before taking a bite.
A/N: Thank you for reading! Please leave feedback :-)
