Breakfast was just what you needed. Boy, Seel, your Greek Chorus said, admiring, that sure is some perfume, we could smell that forever and never get tired of it, it makes that greasepaint and blood smell just disappear. Does she do that for gunpowder and gungrease too?

"Yeah, she does."

Bones looked at you oddly and you realized you were talking to the voices in your head aloud. Bad. Better get this over with, soon. "I didn't say anything," she said.

"Sorry," you said. "I was thinking of something."

She looked at you for a moment-- "Fine."

You saw her back to the lab, and her office was broken into again. You gritted your teeth. Broad daylight was hardly the time to slit someone's throat. You showed her the three new bugs, blinds drawn and doors closed as you did so, yet again exchanging nonsensical chatter until Angela knocked and then entered, saying "You kids have been in here five minutes, please tell me you're doing the naughty, finally."

Bones was game. "I don't know what that means, Angela. Naughty?"

You just rolled your eyes. "Let's just say Angela has an overactive imagination. Supper?"

She nodded, said "Fine. Come by whenever," and sat down to work.

You said your goodbyes, then sauntered off to security bold as brass, stole last night's security films and the ones before last, and whistled your way out with them under your arm as you waved at the security guard. Squints.

The cameras showed a dark and fuzzy spot right outside Bones' door. Anyone who wasn't a pro wouldn't know it was more than a trick of the eye, but a trick of goo on the right spot on the camera. You were going to have to talk to Cam about lab security when this was over. And maybe put Bones' office on its own circuit.

You worked away at your usual breeding like rabbits stack of paperwork at your desk with half a mind, the rest of you planning and occasionally consulting your Greek Chorus as to tactics for later, then had to explain to them what a Greek Chorus was, because they never got old enough to go to college and learn it themselves. Proof enough they were real ghosts, whatever that meant, and not just figments of your imagination, because if they were figments, they'd already know everything you did.

And then at 530, an email from her to your phone, as if she were typing at her computer and couldn't credibly use her phone.

Ferguson back, rather insistent & attempting to blackmail. Rather not shoot him.

You stopped only long enough to email her back.

Stall. Be there soon.

Sirens were too obvious, but lights let you blow through the three lights and usual five minute to the lab to get there in three, up into the garage in one, then up the stairs elevators are always too slow and then into the lab where Hodgins and Angela were still working and attempted to greet you, only to get a curt "shh" hand gesture as you made your way to Bones' office, her door closed and Ferguson's form clearly visible.

One hand was on her lap, and she had the drawer she kept her gun in half open, her hand near it to draw. When you walked in, he was clearly in the middle of attempting to blackmail her.

"I think people would be quite interested to know that the famous Temperance Brennan was involved in such dirty doings. It would be in everyone's best interest if you just played nicely."

You huffed a laugh and he wheeled, startled. "Clearly you don't know Dr. Brennan, Mr. Ferguson. She never plays nicely with anyone. And she's got a mean right hook, I've got personal experience."

Ferguson started to turn red. "Now look, I don't know why think you can barge in here," he started.

You were very quiet, very restrained at not killing him right there. Instead, you just took as step into his face. He still didn't recognize you, the heartless inhuman bastard.

"I think Dr. Brennan's my partner, and that at least I know when to take no for an answer, and when to not try to blackmail her. Since when is the CIA so desperate for help that it feels the need to try to blackmail a scientist, unless there were some dirty doings of their own that they needed desperate help fixing?"

Bones stayed quiet and still as you gave your even-toned speech to Ferguson. It didn't matter that you'd shown a lot of your cards. He wasn't going to have time to do anything about it anyway, and by the time that he got his cronies organized, it would be over.

A vein bulged in the intel rat's forehead, but he knew better than to say anything further, and stormed out. As you watched him depart, you snorted to yourself, satisfied. He still wasn't carrying.

"Supper?"

"Sure," she said. "Let me just get my things."

"Be right back, then," you said. Out to security, with strict instructions not to let Ferguson back. "Yeah, Larry, I know he's CIA, but the guy's just bad news, okay?" He looked at you for a long moment, then nodded. "If you say so, Agent Booth."

By the time you were back, she was ready to go, and gave Hodgins and Angela a wave before leaving.

"What now?" she asked.

"You're going to make Mac and Cheese," you said, shooting her a grin. "Then I'm going to take care of a few things."

She smiled slowly. "Mac and Cheese it is," she said.

Oh, Seel. She cooks, too?

Yeah, she does.

She had her gun. She agreed to lock the doors and even her windows. Agreed not to let anyone in unless it was you and a message you would both understand. And yet you persisted in pretending that there was plausible deniability. Not that Bones wasn't capable of keeping a secret. She was almost as good a liar about some things they let her get hurt and she kept their fucking secrets as you were.