Title: Visitors
Summery: Booth ponders; Tempe berates the legal system, and receives a visit from some people she wishes she hadn't.
Disclaimer: It's not mine! I swear! I'm just borrowing them; I will give them back. Maybe…
Author's Note: I am positively speechless about the support this story has received. Thank-you guys! You're all amazing! On another note, I have absolutely no idea how accurate my, ahem, legal calculations are. Lawyers are overworked right? Especially family ones, since everybody is getting divorced these days.
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They had called Amy Morton, the lawyer that owed them a favor. She had hooked them up with the number of a friend of hers in family law. Calling him before they left the house that morning, he had told them that it would take four to six weeks to have the appropriate papers drawn up, then to officially file for divorce, it would take approximately ninety days for it to become final. On the drive to the lab, while Tempe had rattled on about the decline of society and its effect on the legal system, Booth pondered the idea of not bothering to rectify their drunken mistake. For had it even been a mistake? Perhaps it had been destiny, fate, coincidence, or hell, if he stretched it, maybe even divine intervention. Maybe it had happened for no rhyme or reason. That didn't fly with Booth though, there had to be something that had drawn him and Bones together. Why hadn't it been Angela and him? Or Bones and one of her squints? Or Ange and one of the squints? Or even Zack and Hodgins? No, there had to be some reason that it had been he and Bones. Some underlying feelings, a kind of subconscious push perhaps? He knew he had had the feelings. But had she?
"Booth!" Tempe's voice broke his thoughts, "Seeley, are you listening to me?"
"Yeah darlin', I'm listening," Shifting gears, Booth glanced over at her. I've got a nagging wife, he thought feeling foolish as he grinned into thin air.
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Tempe was busily combing through the chaos that was her office when there was a knock at the door. Knowing that her usual visitors would simply enter and begin to speak when the door was open, she had no idea who was there.
"Come in," She said offhandedly.
"Doctor Brennan?" A familiar voice asked.
"Yes," When she straightened, Bones was faced with two beautiful blonde women. Both she recognized, though she was more familiar with one than the other. She began to feel herself on edge almost immediately.
"Hello Tessa," Tempe said with cool civility. She looked over to the other woman, "Rebecca. I'm sorry I forgot your last name."
She nodded, beaming her best reporter smile, "Rebecca Hardgraves. Pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise," Tempe replied in a tone that belied her statement.
"We're here because we think that you've been mislead," Rebecca began, seeming like she was pleased with herself.
"By whom?" Tempe asked, knowing full well whom they were there to badmouth.
"By Seeley Booth of course!" Tessa exclaimed, "You, of all people, must know what kind of man he is."
"I'd like to think so," Tempe assumed a defiant stance, her arms crossed over her chest, most of her weight resting on one hip.
"Well, then you know," Rebecca took a step closer to Tempe, "He's inflexible, he's pig headed, he's completely obstinate."
"And that's just the beginning," Tessa chimed in, "Do you know that he used to be a gambler?"
"Yes," Tempe sighed, these women weren't telling her a thing she didn't all ready know. She also wondered if Rebecca knew that she had just used three different synonyms for the same word.
"Really?" Rebecca sounded unbelieving while Tessa asked curiously, "How?"
"He told me," Tempe was enjoying watching their reactions to that.
"When could he have done that?" Tessa cried.
"A few months ago," They had been in Vegas on a case. The entire team had managed to come this time. On down times, Angela had tried to coerce both Tempe and Booth into joining the others at the casinos. Tempe simply wasn't interested, while Booth replied cryptically that he only gambled with his life, not his money. The two of them had instead spent their free time wandering the Strip. She had managed to entice the sordid story from him one evening when Angela's persistence had visibly grated on him. It had been right after he'd finished college. Unsure where to go, and having no one to turn to, he had fallen in with the wrong people. Realizing he had a problem, or actually being pushed by a remaining friend, he had cleaned up his act, with some help. He never denied that he hadn't been able to do it on his own. She had been sworn to secrecy, and found herself respecting him all the more for emerging from that and cleaning himself up and becoming all he had.
Slightly put off, Rebecca decided on another plan of attack, "You do know about his son?"
"Parker?" Tempe had to smile, "Of course."
"Then you know that he was born out of wedlock," Rebecca countered.
"Only because you wouldn't marry him," Tempe shot back, suddenly finding herself on the defensive.
"He should make more time for his child," Rebecca scoffed.
"You should let him see his child more," Tempe retorted, thinking back to the hurt on Booth's face when he had to beg to see his son. She remembered the Christmas they had been quarantined, and the day before when they had spoke of Booth's nearly nonexistent visitation rights.
While Rebecca gasped, Tessa, being a lawyer, saw an opening, and took it as her turn to reason with Tempe.
"He becomes completely absorbed in his work, and he forgets that you're alive," She began; keeping her voice like she still felt the sting of being forgotten. Tempe thought that this woman had probably never been forgotten in her life, "And he'll definitely forget you're alive when the next pretty woman comes along."
"I don't see why you're telling me all this," Tempe sat back into her desk chair. She had little to worry about in getting forgotten because of work. She was part of his work. But the comment about the next pretty woman had affected her, though she didn't show it. Why did she care anyway? It wasn't as if she had any actual claim to Booth… Okay, so she was married to him at the moment. They were going to get a divorce. Right? It wouldn't last. Wouldn't it? It couldn't, could it? Did she even want it to? There was a little piece of her screaming that he was family now; that she couldn't just let him go. But she couldn't make him stay, not if he wanted to leave.
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Outside Brennan's office, her three little minions were gathered, peering into the room.
"Poor Bren," Angela whispered, trying to get a better look.
"Booth's got good taste, I'll give him that," Hodgins whistled softly, "Look at those legs!"
While Angela accused Jack of being a chauvinist, Zack asked, "Why are Agent Booth's ex-girlfriends talking to Doctor Brennan?"
"Because sweetie, they want to warn her off," Angela explained, "Maybe they want him back. Even though they baulked."
"Baulked?" Both guys asked.
"They both baulked at stage six," She continued, "Neither was ready for that big commitment step apparently."
"What are you guys all looking at?"
A voice behind them made all three jump up and run into one another. Booth laughed at their impromptu Stooges re-enactment.
"You are a god among men man," Hodgins mocked bowing down, with Zack mimicking him.
Booth turned to Angela, who was clearly the brains of this operation, "What are they talking about?"
"Your exes are in Brennan's office," She answered swiftly, "I think they're warning her off." She then asked, "Did you date that reporter from Channel Five News? The one that did the story on Brennan's house? What was her name?"
"Rebecca Hardgraves," Booth sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face dismally. Leveling a hand on Zack's small shoulder, he looked for himself. Swearing softly under his breath, he said, "Yeah, that's her. And Tessa. This is bad. I'm doomed."
They all stayed gathered, all trying to catch a glimpse or a word from the conversation inside. It wasn't long until another voice scared them.
"What's going on?"
Again, the stooges were up and running, but didn't get far. Booth thrust his hand through his hair, "Doctor Goodman, ah, hey."
"What are you all standing about gaping at?" Goodman prompted, his administrative face firmly in place.
While each of the squints tried to come up with a plausible excuse, Zack was the first to speak, "Garnett, my beetle, got away, and they're helping me look for him."
"I see," Goodman looked as if he didn't believe him for a second.
"It's true!" Zack protested earnestly, "I can't find him anywhere, and if someone stepped on him…" He trailed off, thinking it maybe more believable that way.
Angela, trying to help the cause but trying to forget it was a flesh eating beetle, began calling, "Here Garnett, here little bug, come here little bug."
Zack sighed sorrowfully, "Dermestes Maculatus do not have ears. Ergo, they cannot hear you when you call them."
Angela looked down sheepishly, "Oh. Right. Sorry."
"I want someone to tell me exactly what is going on here. Or," Goodman paused for dramatic effect, "All of you will spend the rest of the day scrubbing every lab and examination table clean with toothbrushes."
Booth snickered, "I'll see you guys later."
"That includes you as well Agent Booth," Goodman said.
Booth sobered quickly, "I don't think so sir."
"If you ever want my assistance in dealing with Doctor Brennan, you will stay exactly where you are."
It was Ange's turn to snicker, "I don't think he needs any help there."
While Curly and Larry giggled behind there hands, Dr. Goodman demanded, "What are you talking about Miss Montenegro? Is there something of which I should be made aware of?"
"Don't you watch the news?" Hodgins asked haughtily.
"As a matter of fact I missed it this weekend. My daughters were having their birthday party, and I was completely tied up in that," Goodman rubbed his temples, "I had fourteen five-year-olds rampaging through my house."
While Booth imagined the horror that he was sure to experience one day, Angela and Zack set to explaining the 'situation' to Dr. Goodman.
His reaction ranged from surprise and shock to nervousness, to worry, and finally, to jovial.
"I see you've had quite the weekend Agent Booth," He chuckled, Booth rolled his eyes, "Perhaps I should let you off. I foresee troubles in your future."
Booth hung his head. He was doomed. There was no doubt in his mind about it.
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Tempe needed a way out. She needed to escape before she pulled her hair out strand by strand. She would prefer to be locked in a room with something that would eat her, or would make her spend hours in front of the channel that Hodgins was so fond of, or even force her to partake of her own cooking, anything rather than these two. The two women had her trapped in her office, and she was sure they wouldn't let her go free until she came around to their way of thinking. Though their way of thinking was indubitably obtuse. They hadn't told her a thing about Booth she didn't all ready know. In fact, it seemed as if she knew more about him than his two previously serious (?) relationships.
"He's so meticulous. Everything has to be in the perfect spot or he goes crazy. He has to have everything just so." Rebecca told her.
"He's so fastidious," Tessa added, "He organizes his closet by color."
Tempe had seen and learned both of these things first hand. She had always attributed Booth's being abnormally neat compared to the average male to his time in the military and the discipline that he had retained. He didn't go crazy though, when she didn't put things back where they had been. He simply unobtrusively moved whatever it was back to its original position. As for his closet, she guessed he had to have some filing system, or he would never find anything. She knew that she just took things off and tossed them into a pile. When the closet was empty, that was when she did laundry. Then the cycle began again. She was beginning to see the benefit to Booth's system.
"He doesn't listen," Tessa complained.
Tempe definitely had to disagree there. Booth was a terrific listener. Why else would he sit and listen to her babble about things she should be able to forget, or about work? Or about anything really? Lately, and it had deepened in the past few days especially, he had been her sounding board. At first it had been strange, but she had begun to draw back from telling Angela everything, and had begun seeking out Booth when she needed to talk. Angela was usually busy now that a new boyfriend had entered the picture, making Tempe feel superfluous. When she spoke, he listened. She could tell because of the impressive way he could recount conversations on menial things days, even weeks after. But before she could input anything on Booth's behalf, they were off again.
"He has to be right at every thing," Rebecca said, "And if he isn't, he sulks."
Okay, Tempe could attest to that. Partially. Booth could drive her crazy insisting he was right, and she had seen him sulk. Tittering to herself, she thought back to the car ride in LA, when she had threatened to report his lying on his car request sheet. He would push and push and push until she finally blew up in his face. He got some kind of perverse pleasure out of that.
"He gets jealous easily," Tessa accused, "I had a male friend that I used to meet after work and he got totally angry at me. For nothing. There was nothing going on between us."
"Until you slept with him," Rebecca murmured.
Tempe gasped. Had Tessa cheated on Booth? He had mentioned something about being concerned about it few weeks ago, a night they had taken their usual seats at Sid's. He hadn't drunk that night; just sipped at the coffee and picked at the pie Sid brought him. It was like pulling teeth, getting him to say what was wrong with him. He had left earlier than usual, dropping a few bills on the counter and squeezing her hand. He hadn't even called her Bones that night. The next day, he had been extremely preoccupied and had declined any and all efforts made to cheer him up. It became clear now, what had happened when he got home.
Undeterred by Rebecca's mention of her extracurricular activities, Tessa said, "He leaves the toilet seat up. It's the worst feeling to go to the bathroom at night and fall in."
Tempe laughed at that. Why was she complaining? That was bound to happen if you shared a bathroom with any man. She mentally congratulated herself for tucking that nightlight into the bathroom outlet. She wasn't going to fall in, thanks to her superb foresight.
Indignant, Tessa snapped, "You wouldn't find it near so funny if you had it happen to you."
But even Rebecca was giggling.
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Outside, Goodman had dispersed the waiting party. Booth was leaning between saving Bones or going back to his own office and finishing the mountain of paper work waiting for him. Not wanting to put himself through unnecessary danger, he opted for heading back to his paper work, leaving a message with Angela for Bones to call him when she was released. Praying she wasn't too angry with him when she was through, he drove back to the bureau building. Maybe he ought to head over to a church instead.
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It was lunchtime when Tempe was alone in her office again. Finally! She felt like screaming. That had been one of the most tedious experiences of her entire life. Now all she wanted to do was not see another human being for a lo-o-o-o-o-o-n-g time. Angela chose that exact moment to stick her head in the door,
"Hey sweetie."
Tempe turned aggravated eyes up at her best friend, "Hello," She replied curtly.
"Somebody's in a mood," Angela sing-songed, entering the room and seating herself in one of the chairs in front of the desk, "What's wrong girl?"
While Tempe poured out her frustrations, Angela listened attentively. She knew she hadn't done this as much as she should have lately, but she was going to try to do better. She also had noticed the fact that Bren had started to tell Booth so much more. Even before their marriage, they had gotten closer in the past few months. Meeting outside of the office, calling each other even more. There was no way Bren could convince her that all those calls had been about cases. Booth had even been Bren's escort to the last museum charity event. If that didn't say something to a hardened matchmaker like Angela Montenegro, nothing could. Something had been brewing between the, she had to giggle, newlyweds for a while now. Perhaps being temporarily incapacitated had numbed their inhibitions and their true feelings had come out. Angela knew that Bren especially was not good at opening up to anyone, but she seemed to be doing so well with Booth. There was something about the sexy FBI agent that drew out Bren's inner thoughts and feelings. Angela was just hoping he would keep it up.
When she was finished talking, Tempe took a deep gulp of air. Airing her grievances had helped, Tempe no longer felt as if she was going to flay the next homo sapien she saw. She hadn't realized she was holding her hands palm up, until Angela asked,
"Bren, what's that on your hands?"
Embarrassed, Tempe dropped her hands into her lap, under the desktop. Angela raised an eyebrow at Tempe's sudden movements and hidings, "Bren?" She said like a mother speaking to a disobedient child.
"They're band-aids," Tempe muttered.
"Band-aids?" Angela squeaked, "What happened?"
After Tempe had explained the story behind the Big Bird band-aids, Angela had melted into a puddle of romantic mush. It was now cemented in her mind how perfect Booth and Bren were for each other.
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That afternoon, Booth sat in his office, at his desk, pen still poised over his slowly dwindling paperwork pile. He hadn't heard from Bones for hours, he wasn't sure if it was because Angela had forgotten to relay his message, or because Bones had been in such a bad mood she wouldn't pick up the phone. He really, really wanted to believe it was the first one.
His cell phone began vibrating in his hip pocket. Taking it out and flipping it open, he saw Bones' number on the caller id,
"Hey Bones. How goes it?"
"It goes fine," She replied curtly, "Now."
"Baby, I had no idea they were gonna show up on you. You've got my word on that," Again, it had slipped, the endearment being so close to her nickname, or so he told himself.
"I believe you," He was breathing easier that she hadn't locked onto the 'new' nickname. Her heart was doing a little happy dance; her mind wasn't sure how she liked being called someone's baby. She was an independent, self-sufficient woman. Even if it gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling. That feeling was presenting its self way too often in regards to Booth.
"So," He said coyly, "What did they say?"
"Nothing good," Tempe smiled, "They told me how you were a horrible person, and that you went crazy at the slightest mess, and you were a gambling, selfish, workaholic man!" Okay, she thought, so that wasn't exactly what they said, and it wasn't exactly how she had taken it, but hey, it was fun to mess with Booth.
"What?" He exclaimed baffled, "Okay man I can understand, maybe even workaholic. But selfish? And I don't gamble any more! You know that!"
Maybe she had taken it a bit to far. He was definitely messed with.
"Sweetie, calm down," The endearment had just slipped, she swore it had. Besides, it was so similar to his actual name that he most likely wouldn't notice it. He did.
"What did you call me?" He asked, even more baffled than before.
"It's nothing," She mumbled, "Besides," She accused, her voice gaining force, "You've been calling me things too!"
He chuckled, "Things?"
"Yes, things," She sputtered, growing agitated.
"What kinds of things?" He took the same tone she did when saying the word.
"Like, like," She groaned, "You actually want me to say them?"
"Yes," Leaning back in his chair, he got more comfortable, "I actually want you to say them"
"Fine," She hissed venomously, "You've called me babe, baby, Bones," He interrupted her,
"Bones doesn't count, I always call you Bones."
"It does too count!" She insisted, "I told you over and over not to call me that."
"You haven't said a word about it in weeks," He returned.
"Well, I've grown used to it," She stammered, trying to avoid his discovering that she had also grown fond of it, "Anyway, you also called me darlin' this morning when we were driving to work, and you called me your girl before too! I am not a girl, nor do I belong to you!"
"Whoa, okay, take a breath darlin'," Booth admonished, "I didn't mean to offend you. And," He threw in, because he knew it would rile her further, "You did call me your man yesterday, remember?"
"That was Angela!" It had worked; she was riled.
"And you didn't venture to correct her, did you?" At her silence, he continued, "I didn't think so."
She heaved a deep, aggravated sigh, then exhaled hard. He followed her lead, "If you want me to stop, then I will. I don't want to put any more strain on our marriage if at all possible. Do you want me to stop?" Waiting quietly for her answer, he pushed his chair back farther, and snatched the stress ball off the shelf behind him. He was going to need it. But he wouldn't change a thing about his girl.
He almost didn't catch her reply, "No," She whispered dismally.
Still, he made her repeat it, to make sure he had heard right, "What did you say?"
"No," She repeated louder, "No! Are you deaf?"
Glossing over the last question she had biffed at him, he asked one of his own, "No what?"
She made a defeated sound in her throat, "No, I don't want you to stop."
"No you don't want me to stop what?" Man, he was having way too much fun with this, he thought.
Man, he was having way too much fun with this, she thought. She knew he wouldn't let up until she said what he wanted her to. He was that bloody stubborn. But did he know how much a blow to her pride this was?
"No, I don't want you to stop calling me Bones, or any other of your silly little nicknames. For some unknown reason, I find them," She couldn't believe she was actually saying this, "Attractive."
Sniggering, he asked, "See, was that so hard?"
She had never wished so hard as she had at that moment that she could reach through the phone lines and cheerfully ring his smug neck.