A/N: Here's a mid-week chapter for you guys. I had a little bit of writer's block with this one. I knew what had to happen, but wasn't quite sure how to get there. So read away and tell me what you think. Does it work? Does it suck? Thanks for reading!


Chapter 10

Back at the lab, I was trying really hard to pay attention, but I just couldn't do it. Not that day. Not with barely any sleep and the sensation of Ballard's lips on mine still haunting me whenever I stopped long enough to think. Which was a lot, considering the squints take hours and hours analyzing every little detail.

"Booth!" cried Bones in exasperation.

Looking up I said, "Yeah? What is it Bones?"

"You're not paying attention at all! Cam and I are trying to give you our findings so that you may catch whoever did this, but you haven't heard any of it, have you?" Her voice was colored with a mixture of anger and concern, and I think the anger was there because of the concern. Sometimes, especially on the forensic platform, she hates being made to feel anything. Bones thinks it hinders her ability to be objective.

Hell, maybe it did. I was almost certain that my confusion about what had happened between me and Ballard was getting in the way of solving this case. But I really couldn't talk to her about that. "Sorry, Bones. I didn't get much sleep last night."

Snapping off her gloves, she pulled me aside and my heart leapt when she touched my arm. "Booth," Bones said, giving me a hard look, like she was really trying to figure me out. "Something is wrong. I'm your partner and I can tell."

"What would be wrong? I'm just tired."

"You're upset about Agent Ballard, aren't you?"

"What?" Where the hell did she get that from? How could she possibly know anything about me and Ballard? Bones stinks at non-literal and non-verbal communication, and now she's psychic? It didn't make any sense.

"You told me you two got drunk together. In our society, such activity acts as a bonding ritual between males. He's your friend, Booth."

"If you say so, Bones." I tried to turn away, to go back to the case, but she stopped me, hand comfortingly tight on my shoulder.

"I think you lied before when you said you weren't upset about those other Agents disappearing. I know if Cam or Dr. Hodgins disappeared, though I feel they are not as close friends to me as you or Angela, I'd be very upset."

"That's different, Bones. You don't know what you're talking about." And if I had my way, she would never find out.

"How? How is it different, Booth?"

Sighing in frustration I said, "You've known Cam and Jack for years, Bones. I've known Ballard for a few days."

Staring at me like she was trying to examine the look on my face and figure me out, Bones eventually nodded. "Can you concentrate on the case? Because if you aren't going to listen and use our findings to catch whoever murdered that young woman, I don't think you should be here today."

"Are you saying you want to work with someone else?" I tried to keep my voice from rising, but it wasn't working. "Is that what you want, Bones? Because if that's what you want, I'll go ahead and call Agent Perotta and you can work with her instead!"

"No!" she insisted. "I only want to work with you, Booth." Is it just me, or was there a double meaning in her words? She only wanted me. To work with. Damn it, Seeley, get a hold of yourself. You can't tell her that you love her, even when she says things like that.

"But you're sending me home?"

"If you can't focus, I can't use you here today. I'll let you know what we find as soon as it's relevant, but I think you should go get some sleep."

"Can't sleep…" I muttered, turning away from her.

"Then go talk to Dr. Sweets!"

"I thought you didn't believe in psychology, Bones? Why would you send me to Sweets?"

Bones sighed and looked away from me, something she rarely does during an argument. "Because he's more effective at making you feel better about things."

"More effective?"

"More effective than me alright, Booth? Just go talk to him and don't come back to the lab until he's fixed you."

As she walked away from me, I called, "I'm not a carburetor, Bones! I'm just not that easy to fix!" When she turned to face me, her disappointed look said I was being childish. Infuriated, I decided 'the hell with this' and left the Jeffersonian.

Shit, I had two cases and I couldn't focus well enough to work on either. Maybe Bones was right and I did need to talk to Sweets again. Not that our last conversation had been all that helpful. Or helpful at all.

In any case, I called Sweets and asked him to meet me at the Royal Diner. When I got there, I took a table near the back next to the window. I really didn't need anyone overhearing what I had to say.

"Agent Booth," Sweets greeted me as he entered the diner and sat down. "What's going on?"

"Thanks for coming, Sweets," I said, leaning forward so I could talk to him quietly. "Bones kicked me out of the lab."

"Why would Dr. Brennan do a thing like that?" He signaled to the waitress and ordered a cup of coffee, which she brought right away.

When the waitress left, I answered, "She said I was too distracted and she'd call me when they came up with anything."

"Don't you usually leave the lab when they're examining the body? Go work on something else for awhile?"

"There's nothing else to work on," I lied. "We've been moved off the other case and she's never kicked me out of the lab before."

"Why don't I believe that?" He asked, taking a sip of his coffee before grimacing and adding another packet of sugar.

"Okay, maybe she has," I admitted. "But not for a very long time, Sweets!"

"Would you like me to act as a mediator? Is that why you called me down here on a Saturday afternoon?"

"No," I muttered, shoveling another bite of pie into my mouth. "She says I can't come back to the lab until you fix me."

"What does that even mean?" Sweets complained. "You know Psychology -"

"It means she wants you to make me less distracted," I interrupted him, not up to hearing his side of the Anthropology/Psychology debate. "I guess by talking? She wasn't real clear on the details."

"I see. May I ask what's distracting you from your case?"

"Well," I sighed, heart racing as I tried to decide exactly what to tell him. "This is all covered under that doctor-patient confidentiality thing, isn't it?"

Sweets cleared his throat and said, "Yeah! Yeah, of course. Unless you've killed someone," he joked, chuckling shortly before asking seriously, "You haven't killed anyone, have you?"

"No!" I cried. "Why would you even think that, Sweets?"

Blustering, he told me, "Well you do have a penchant for violence, Agent Booth."

"Only when I'm after the bad guys, okay?"

"Okay. Of course," he nodded vigorously. "What is this secret problem that's been distracting you from your work?"

"Don't freak out, okay, kid?"

"Why do you always think I'm going to freak out? I'm a professional, thank you very much."

"Okay", I sighed. You can do this, Seeley. Just tell the shrink what's on your mind and maybe he can tell you how to make it go away. "You remember our talk the other day?"

"The one about making friends, or…the other one?"

"The other one, Sweets."

"I remember."

Sighing again, I said, "What if something happened since then? Something that's gotten me all confused?"

"Something? What something? What happened?"

"I kissed him," I confessed, refusing to look at Sweets' face as he processed the information and instead, focusing on the few crumbs of pie left on my plate. A long moment of silence didn't help the crazy nervous beating of my heart as I pushed those crumbs around with my fork, waiting for Sweets to say something, anything.

"Whoa," he breathed, setting down his cup of coffee. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sweets start out of his surprise with a shake of his head. "Okay," he began as he searched for the words, "and this event made you feel confused?"

"Well, yeah. And it all happened so fast. I mean one second he's crying and telling me what happened and the next second I kissed him. This has to be my broken brain, right, doc?"

"Wait, back up a second. What happened to him? Why was this man crying? Who is he?"

"Shit," I muttered. "I'm gonna have to start at the beginning, aren't I?"

Nodding, Sweets replied, "I think that might be best."

"Okay. But keep in mind that if you tell anyone about this, lives will be endangered, and I'm not just talking about yours."

"Booth. We've been working together for over two years. So you really have to threaten my life in order to trust me?"

"Yeah, I really do," I told him, giving him a long look to tell him I was completely serious. And then I filled him in about what had happened to Ballard and Echo. Eventually, I worked my way around to describing the events surrounding the kiss. I left out the bits about the Dollhouse, because I didn't really want to get into that whole discussion, too.

"So you were comforting Agent Ballard?" Sweets asked. "And that's when the kiss happened?"

"Yeah," I said gruffly, looking around to make sure no one was listening.

"That's not actually all that surprising, Booth."

"What? I'd say that's pretty fucking surprising," I hissed, keeping my voice down as I cursed.

Sweets gave me a disappointed look at the language before continuing, "It's not surprising because you like fixing things, Booth. You like setting everything in order."

"You think I was trying to fix Ballard?"

"I think you were trying to make him feel better about what happened."

I remember thinking, just before I kissed him, that I wanted to make everything better. "Yeah," I muttered, nodding my head. "Yeah, that's what I was doing. But this whole situation is just screwed up, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Sweets asked, doing his whole answer a question with a question shrink thing.

"I mean I'm screwed up. Isn't that what you told me? That my brain isn't the same as before the tumor?"

"Well, no," he said carefully, "not technically the same."

Nodding, I pushed back from the table and dug my wallet out of my back pocket. Laying down enough money for my coffee and pie, I stood.

"Where do you think you're going, Booth? You said you wanted to be fixed, so sit down and let me fix you!" The kid was getting all blustery and red cheeked, which only increased my eagerness to leave. But he did have a point. Bones would probably call Sweets before she let me back in the lab, wouldn't she?

Sighing, I sat back down and gave the shrink my attention.

"This confusion about Ballard is distracting you from your work," he started, as if needing to restate the facts before whatever came next was going to make any sense. "Your attraction to him could be caused by the brain surgery and subsequent coma, but could also be due to a number of other factors." I opened my mouth to ask what factors he was thinking, but he held up his hand and I let him continue. "Because of this, your feelings for this man could fade. Therefore," he said, punctuating the word like he was in a debate or something, "I would advise you not to start anything serious with this man."

"Serious?" I asked. "How about I don't start anything? And how does that help me from being distracted?"

"If you decide on an agenda, right here, right now, you won't have to think about it anymore." Sweets was trying to be forceful, assertive, but it wasn't really working out for him.

Not quite convinced, I asked, "So I decide nothing else is going to happen, and that's it?"

Nodding, he replied, "That's it."

After looking at each other for a moment, Sweets asked me, "So what's your agenda?"

"Nothing else is going to happen between me and Ballard."

"Good." Sweets smiled that goofy smile of his, the one that I find either amusing or annoying. Right now I was leaning toward annoyed.

"Are you satisfied now, Sweets? Will you tell Bones to let me back into the lab?" I got up, not really wanting to talk to him about this anymore.

"Yeah, sure, Booth," he called as I left, watching me go. Deciding I had to give him some sort of response, I waved at him over my shoulder as I left the diner. Okay. I was resolved that nothing else would happen between me and Ballard. I didn't have to think about it any more. I didn't have to worry about it any more. These odd feelings were just a weird side effect of my brain surgery, and they would be gone soon. Never to return.