I saw him right before he entered the diner, his dark form shadowed for just a moment against the window to the side of the doorway. I'd chosen my usual seat at our usual table-- "our" meaning Booth and me, not Sully. Sully didn't look up as the bell chimed and the door shut again, just kept leaning over the table, and missing the hint of my crossed arms and lack of smile. I thought he claimed to have been trained in body mechanics.
"Look, Sully," I said, trying again, blunter this time. I'd tried Booth's "just try being nice," and it hadn't worked so far. "Any decision you make about whether to un-retire and come back to FBI field work should be based solely on you. I just don't have an opinion." As if retiring before 40 was responsible, or un-retiring as he called it, somehow made him so again, or made me interested in him again.
He leaned closer. "Come on Tempe, don't be like that. We had something special. We can have it again, you just have to say the word."
I drew a breath. "No. That's the word. I'm sorry Sully, but..."
Just then, Booth reached the table. "Bones! Hey! I practically had a heart attack when Angela said you'd gone out to lunch on your own, without me dragging you!" Bearing a smile on his face and some papers under his arm, he affected surprise when he drew even, and saw Sully. Sully's shoulders tensed a little. Interesting-- he never used to be tense around Booth.
"Hey, hey, Peanut! How's it going? Hey, welcome back, man!" Booth slapped Sully on the shoulder, then settled down on the stool opposite the table.
"Booth, man, hey!" He smiled politely, annoyed by the interruption. More annoyed than he ought to be. Oh. Sully had that same expression he used to have when Booth used to interrupt us and he probably thought that Booth was not just my... oh. Oh. "I'm good, man, thanks. Just in town to talk with some people about maybe coming back to the Bureau. Thought I'd have coffee with Tempe, catch up on old times a little, try to convince her to go out for a little dinner and after-dinner-entertainment." He was looking at me as he said that with what I suppose he thought was a charm smile, but out of the corner of my eye I caught the tic of Booth's jaw at the sexual reference so unsubtle that even I got it.
Oh. Oh.
Do they make glasses for not just emotional suppression, but straight out emotional blindness? Clearly, I need some. And here I thought he'd just offered to come because he was being a friend. An overprotective, alpha-male friend. An overprotective, alpha-male friend who likes to smell my hair when he thinks I'm not looking, but that's okay, most men do that, the hair-sniffing thing, it's just a biological male imperative that doesn't have anything to do with Booth's strictly platonic feelings for me. An overprotective, alpha-male friend who likes to touch me pretty much any excuse he can get, and who I've allowed to essentially keep pawing me because it's actually rather nice. An overprotective, alpha-male friend who also spends anywhere from thirty seconds to three minutes watching me from the shadows when he thinks I'm not looking, except I never really minded it after the third or fourth time because he was just concerned in that over-protective way about me. An overprotective, alpha-male friend who knew Sully'd hurt me the last time, and always seemed to show up when when Sully and I were about to... oh.
Oh. Shit. Angela was right. He does want me. He does. I'd talked myself out of it one too many times, telling myself that my own admittedly confused interest was one-sided, and now my brain wasn't playing along any more. Okay, don't hyperventilate. First, get rid of Sully. Then, get rid of Booth before he touches me and I pass out. Then, go hide in Angela's office until she tells me what to do. I can't screw this up. He's my best friend. I ruin every relationship, and every time he touches me lately, I practically faint, half with want and half with the need to hide it from him because if he gets involved with me, I'll just mess it all up. This is not good.
Booth leaned in then a bit, his voice apologetic, real Charm Smile firmly in place. "Well, I'm sorry to bust up your get-together, but Bones, Caroline called on that motion to quash and wants to see us, lickety-split." He pulled out the papers from under his arm and waved them generally between me and Sully-- they were the papers for our meeting tomorrow. Clever. Oh, lord, I'd walked right into his trap by letting him help me today. I never should have called him on the lingering outside my office thing. I could have handled this on my own. Now I was going to have to spend time with him in thanks for his help, and really, it was help, because Sully was sitting back in his seat and looking at the papers Booth was waving.
Sully shook his head. "Well, when duty calls, needs must answer. Tempe, I'll call you later."
Didn't Sully hear what I said? I cannot handle this, on top of the fact that my professional, platonic, partner who hasn't been platonic in how long, ever? is now looking at me like a cat with a bowl of cream. Well, first things first. Get rid of Sully. This, I can do.
"No, Sully, don't. I am not interested in resuming a relationship with you on anything but perhaps a professional basis. I wish you luck in your decision. Please don't call." He looked shocked, then, and embarrassed to have had a witness, but he also looked mad, which worked for me so long as he stayed away. I stood, said, "I'm sorry, but I already tried telling you." And then I gathered my things, and headed out the diner door before Booth could touch me.