Disclaimer: Don't own Bones. So sad.

A/n: As always, much love to jerseybones for betaing!

Security Detail

He should have opened the damn file folder.

That seemed to be the one clear thought in his mind once he walked into the room and saw her.

He really should have opened that file in the privacy of his own office and taken a look at the picture that was likely attached to the dossier. Maybe then he wouldn't be standing in his own living room, feeling sucker-punched by a pair of big blue eyes.

"Booth, I'd like you to meet Dr. Temperance Brennan," Cam introduced, smoothly gesturing to the woman in question.

Automatically, Booth extended a hand, watching as she drilled him with those oh my god, fucking amazing blue eyes, before she clasped his hand.

"Dr. Brennan, thank you very much for coming …" Cam's words were almost a buzz, but he picked up on the title and could not help being confused.

"Dr. Brennan?" he questioned in what Booth hoped was a normal tone. "I thought you were a …"

"Dr. Brennan acquired her PhD after leaving the CIA, Seeley," Cam explained, sending him a reproachful look; a small chastisement for not reading the file.

Brennan tugged slightly on her hand, making Booth realize that he had yet to release her and he let go as if he'd been burned, taking an automatic step back.

"That's correct; Applied Linguistics." Reclaiming her hand, Brennan explained, "Sometimes, speaking the right language is more important than firing a gun."

"And just how many languages do you speak?" he couldn't help asking, fascinated despite himself. Oh, this was dangerous.

"I'm completely fluent in six, Mr. Booth," she answered succinctly. "But for the purposes of this job what's more important is that I can, in fact, fire almost any weapon with deadly accuracy."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cam smirk; it had been a long time since anyone had failed to address him without the proper deference to his robes.

"Six languages and a PhD," Booth murmured, even as he went tense at the reminder that she was here for his protection, not … anything else. "That's very impressive."

"My IQ is quite high," she said, quite seriously. "I can do almost anything I set my mind to and right now what I intend to do is keep you alive."

She turned those eyes on Cam, directing her next questions at her and leaving Booth with the distinct feeling that he had just been dismissed.

"Angela just contacted me today and I haven't had any time to acquaint myself with the situation," Brennan said briskly and all business.

"I can get you anything you need," Cam assured quickly, reaching into the briefcase that never left her side and pulling out a file. "This is some background information on Justice Booth, including a record of received death threats."

"For starters, I'd like a list of anyone who might have a reason to hurt him," she listed, taking the file and scanning the contents even as she continued in that brisk tone. "Also, I'll need a copy of his schedule, any routine habits he might have …"

She was talking about him as if he wasn't even there and it immediately raised his hackles, making him want to remind her that he was very much present.

"Whoa, hold your horses there," he interjected, taking a step towards her without even realizing it.

"I don't have any horses, Mr. Booth," she replied with a puzzled line between her brows.

"Are you kidding?" Booth wondered whether she was messing with him, but those eyes looked completely guileless when she turned then on him. God, she was pretty. He shook his head. "Forget it. Look, I don't know what Cam or Angela has told you, but I already think this is pretty unnecessary …"

"Booth," Cam warned in an aggrieved tone. "We've discussed this already."

"And I told you I didn't want or need any personal security," he shot back.

"Is your life, not in fact, in danger, Mr. Booth?"

"Just Booth is fine," he snapped, pissed at this whole situation.

"Yes, it most certainly is," Cam answered immediately, handing Brennan a disc. "Footage from the assassination attempt yesterday."

"If you don't want my protection, then I won't be able to do my job," Brennan noted reasonably. "And I won't be able to guarantee your security."

"Of course you can't guarantee it, Dr. Brennan," he stressed the word pointedly. "Nobody can and you may be extremely competent, but you are not God."

"Since God is a mythological being, Your Honor …" Instead of using his name, she used his title and somehow it pissed him off just as much as her mocking tone. "I very much doubt he can guarantee much of anything, much less your personal safety."

"Listen, lady," he snarled with another automatic step forward. "You don't get to mock my personal beliefs just …"

"And you don't get to be an idiot just because of some misplaced sense of …"

"Booth! Dr. Brennan!" Cam's voice stopped them both in their tracks, reminding them that they were not alone in the room. "I realize that this is a tense situation," she said diplomatically. "But we are all adults here, we can play nice."

With an icy look in his direction, she asked, "Can I play this?" Brennan twirled the disk in her hand and Cam motioned to the DVD player.

The footage played on screen and Booth watched in stoic silence just how close he had come to dying yesterday. Damn, it had been close.

"Only one shot fired," Brennan mused clinically. "That tells me that once he missed, he was done for the day."

"That's not good, is it?" Cam murmured.

"No," she replied flatly. "Once the situation was compromised, the shooter simply walked away, but that doesn't mean he won't try again. Who's in charge of the investigation?"

"Agent Sullivan of the FBI," Cam answered promptly. "They already have a record of any death threats received in the last year, but the fact is …"

"The fact is …" Booth cut in patiently, "… that I've been on the bench for almost half a decade and I just got appointed to the Court, so there are plenty of people out there with motive. I'm sure I have plenty of political enemies, not to mention any number of people who came through my court and left unhappy with the outcome. But I can't worry about every crazy, disgruntled person out there with a motive to kill me."

"Has anyone tried to assassinate you before?"

"What?" Booth palmed the back of his neck in frustration. "Of course not!"

"There may be plenty of people out there with motive," Brennan said earnestly. "But only one person who actually attempted to carry through." She paused, letting that particular reality sink in, before adding, "But they failed. You don't think they'll try again?"

"Maybe they will," he sighed tiredly, dropping down on the couch. "But all I can do is let the FBI do their job …"

"You can let me do mine," she reminded him, looking him straight in the eye. "I'm the best there is."

"Very modest, Doc."

"You don't have to like me," she said stiffly, walking to pop the disc out of the DVD. "You just have to listen to me."

"I understand what you are saying," he said softly, realizing his small tease had been taken the wrong way. Getting up from the couch, he walked closer to her, irresistibly compelled to soothe. "I assure you, Dr. Brennan, I do not have a death wish."

"Brennan is fine," she echoed his earlier words.

"Okay," he agreed, instinctively knowing that this was as much of an olive branch as he was going to get from this woman.

"I have to get home," Cam spoke up, throwing Booth a smirk he knew meant she had noticed his less than composed reaction to the good doctor. "Dr. Brennan, Senator Hodgins assured me you would be able to offer round the clock security."

"That's correct," she assured and for the first time Booth noted the duffel bag on the floor. "I'd like to make a security sweep of the premises before …"

"Cam!" he gaped, realizing exactly where this was headed. "You can't just move people into my house!"

"She's not people, Booth," Cam replied cheerfully. "She's your personal security detail." Her heels clicked smartly on the floor as she headed to the door. "I'll pass by tomorrow for breakfast and we can finish hashing everything out."

"Make sure to bring me a copy of his schedule for the next few months."

"Will do," Cam replied, giving Brennan a firm handshake before walking out.

"Unbelievable," he breathed, nearly stunned as he watched her walk around his living room, cataloguing everything, from the big bay windows to the alarm system.

"Relax, Your Honor," she smirked, walking slowly by the windows, perusing the layout of the room with a critical eye. "You won't even know I'm here."

"I seriously doubt that," Booth muttered, not really caring if she heard him. "C'mon, I'll show you to the guest room."

She walked quietly next to him and he couldn't help sneaking glances at her out of the corner of his eye. My god, she was so freaking beautiful. And when she walked into her room ahead of him, he realized she smelled ridiculously good as well.

That is so unfair, he thought crankily.

"I need a tour of the premises," she announced, pulling a gun out of the duffel bag she had dumped on the bed and tucking it behind her.

"Brennan, it's late," Booth protested, pinching the bridge of his nose in exhaustion.

"I know," her voice softened a little. "And it's unlikely there'll be any threats against you here, but I still need to know the layout and check every room in the house. I'll be quick, I promise."

"Fine," he gave in, too tired to put up much of a fight. "But we have to lay down some ground rules."

"Certainly," she accepted with a smile and he was immediately suspicious.

"But Booth …" His nostrils flared unconsciously at the soft, natural raspiness of her voice curling unexpectedly around his name. "Since I'm the one keeping you alive, they'll be my ground rules."