Same Friday, 5:30PM
Brennan approached the SUV, clutching the folded leather jacket to her with both arms in a surrogate hug. If only it were that simple. Although tonight was supposed to be Booth's treat, she felt responsible for figuring out something to help salvage their evening. The absolutely last thing on Earth she wanted to happen was for him to have a reason to regret coming back to their partnership, to her. Damn Hodgins.
Booth was slowly pacing back and forth in front of the vehicle, so lost in thought he didn't notice her approach until she was almost upon him. He gave a slight start then grinned at her reflexively in spite of his mood. The grin then became a sheepish one when he noticed she carried his jacket.
"Thanks", he reached for it and put it on, settling it on his shoulders. "I wasn't looking forward to going back in there for it. It'd kinda spoil my grand exit." He gave her a wink and a sickly version of his 'charm' smile.
"No problem", she replied, thankful his anger seemed to have abated somewhat.
He pulled his keys out of the jacket's right pocket and jangled them at her, chuckling at himself, before clicking the remote to unlock the SUV and going around to open the passenger door for her. In his distraction he forgot that she preferred to get her own door, but she knew that now was not the time to balk, and instead accepted his courtesy for what it was.
She climbed up and buckled herself in as he closed her door for her, and she waited for him to come around and climb into the driver's seat and start the vehicle before speaking.
"I'm sorry, Booth."
"What? No… no, you don't have anything to apologize for, it's not your fault." He took a deep breath and exhaled. "I should be the one apologizing. I ought to know how Hodgins can get by now, and I'm sorry I let him get to me. I only made it worse."
Here she was supposed to be calming him down, and he was apologizing to her.
"Still, he had no right…" she insisted.
"No argument there." He waited until he had turned out of the drive and on to Independence before continuing. He turned from watching traffic briefly to look at her, his expression contrite, "But I really wanted us to have fun tonight. I should have controlled myself better."
He changed the subject briefly, eyes back on the road, "It'll take us about an hour and a half to get to the range. There's several restaurants nearby, so I figured we'd wait until then to eat. Unless you're too hungry now." He glanced her way.
"No, I don't have any appetite right now." It was the honest truth after what had just happened.
"Me neither", he softly agreed.
She squelched her normal impulse to know all the details about where they were going, and instead she waited quietly, knowing the air needed to be cleared further. He was not looking at her as he maneuvered through rush hour traffic, but she could tell he was about to speak.
"There was one thing he said that really got to me, that I almost blew my top over… Hodgins and his 'collateral damage'". He added the last bitterly.
Booth looked at her again, "Several months ago you asked me a question that I never really answered. It's time I did." She nodded encouragingly, and he looked back at the road before continuing.
"Our squad was one of a handful of Ranger units in Kurdistan in the year after Desert Storm, in the northern No-Fly zone. Supposedly there were no US boots on the ground other than humanitarian relief, but we were working with the Kurdish soldiers, the peshmerga, giving them some training and support in their fight to keep Saddam's forces out. We were based in a safe area pretty near the no man's land, but we weren't supposed to take direct action ourselves, although we did provide some sniper support."
He glanced her way to see she was following…
"The Iraqi intel crew was pretty good, and a couple times they infiltrated people to make things interesting for us, one time in particular…" His voice trailed off for a moment.
Booth looked at her again, eyes troubled, wanting her to understand, "The two of them weren't targets. It was an accident, you see?" He realized he'd got ahead himself, and went on to explain, looking back at the road, not really seeing it…
"One morning we were walking through the village near the market on the way to rendezvous with a new unit we were going to train. An infiltrator shot at us from the edge of the crowd in an alley leading into the bazaar. Our Kurdish interpreter and one of our guys went down in the middle of the street. Our medic ran to help them as the rest of us scanned for the shooter. He came under fire too, and I saw the shooter half hiding behind a woman and her son against a wall near the last vendor's stall. He became exposed as the rest of the crowd was screaming, backing away, and I had a clear though tight shot, since I was back, offset at an angle. I got off a snap shot and nailed him."
He paused, clearing his throat…
"Problem was, either he saw me and started to move, or she did. But my reflexes had taken over and I tracked him perfectly in that fraction of a second. My round clipped her right here." He pointed to the left side of his neck. "The boy was ok."
"Her carotid artery?", she asked, knowing the answer.
"Yes. Blew it out. She was dead in seconds."
She gently prodded him. "You said two." She finally remembered her question from the time they dealt with the homeless Vietnam vet living underground. "She was pregnant?" she asked softly.
"We didn't even see it at first because of her traditional robes, but someone in the crowd with a little English cried out 'Baby, baby!' and was pointing to her stomach. The village had no real doctor, but they rounded up the mid-wife who performed a makeshift C-section. It was too late. She was about five months along. They weren't even very mad at us because they were our hosts and had failed to protect us." He grimaced, "That almost made it worse."
He added, "So to hell with Hodgins and his collateral damage. There's nothing goddamned 'casual' about it."
"I'm so sorry, Seeley." She reached out a hand toward him.
He dismissed it with a sigh, "That was all a long time ago." But he took her hand and held it tightly for the next several miles, which passed in silence, before letting go.
She finally broke the tension, "Sometimes Angela says his middle name must be 'Ass'."
He was baffled for half a second then caught on. He found himself laughing more than the modest joke deserved, eager for an excuse to lighten up. He gave her his most charming smile, grateful to her for trying to break him out of his mood.
She responded with a single bark of a laugh that was half sob. Perhaps their 'not a date' would be ok after all. It felt good to be simply smiling at each other again.
"Speaking of asses…" It was her turn for a double take, wondering where he could possibly be going with that.
"Just whatever happened with Chad?" he finished.
"Who?" she asked, all wide-eyed innocence.
So she was going to be coy about it, Booth thought. He'd have to coax it out of her. "You might remember him as Agent Williams."
She made a great show of racking her brains. "Ah, him. He appeared to be suffering from a degenerative neurological disorder."
He enjoyed played along, "Symptoms?"
"The first sign was apparent hearing loss coupled with some possible cognitive impairment."
"He couldn't or wouldn't get it that you weren't buying his lines", he interpreted out loud.
She smiled and kept up the act. "Next he exhibited a pattern of diminished depth perception."
He had to think about that one a second. "He kept invading your personal space?" He started scowling.
She nodded with an approving grin. "The next stage in the progression involved a loss of coordination, motor skills, as he began bumping into me more frequently."
He got that one right away. "Why that cheesy sonuvabitch! If he laid a finger on you I'll…"
She reached out and squeezed his forearm, a twinkle in her eye. "Further intervention isn't required. The problem soon resolved itself."
"What? How?" he sputtered, indignant on her behalf.
She answered him with her biggest grin yet, "His clumsiness worsened until he had another accident, coming about this close…" she held up her thumb and forefinger about an eighth of an inch apart, "to a dislocated shoulder."
A/N
Please review! The 'not a date' continues…
