CHAPTER 10

Booth sat at the table in the breakfast nook in Dr Wyatt's kitchen, fiddling with the cup of liquid that passed for coffee. Gordon sat across from him, content to wait for Booth to answer the question he'd posed to him several minutes before. It wasn't like Booth to leave a question hanging like that without answering, but it had blindsided him.

"Do you really think you can keep your personal and professional life separate when you're dating your partner?" he'd asked him.

Booth's most immediate response was a resounding "YES" but he'd learned through his sessions with Dr Wyatt that it was wise to stop and examine first responses before blurting them out. Gordon always found some interesting flaw in his answers and seemed to take particular delight in picking up subtle nuances that Booth wasn't even aware of. This made him hesitate and examine his answer to consider what the good doctor was going to pick at next.

Booth decided to take the plunge. "Yes, I believe I can keep them separate. I've been working with her for a couple years now and haven't had any trouble yet."

Gordon nodded thoughtfully. "True, true. However, your feelings for her are now out in the open and you've acted on them. Won't it be difficult now to compartmentalize them?"

Booth took another sip of the awful coffee, not because he wanted any, but to buy himself a moment to think of a reply. "As a sniper, I learned to compartmentalize my feelings. It was the only way to deal with what I was doing. I'm sure I can do the same again." He smiled, confident that Gordon wasn't going to be able to find fault with that logic. His confidence took a hit when Gordon frowned thoughtfully and cocked his head in that infuriating way he had. Okay, what'd I miss? Booth thought warily.

"Agent Booth, compartmentalizing guilt, anger, fear and whatever else you had to deal with as a sniper is entirely different from doing the same with love. Love is a positive emotion that infuses the whole psyche. No matter how adept you are at separating those other emotions and burying them, I really doubt you'll find love as easy to lock away. I fear that might put you or your Dr Brennan in danger one day. Are you prepared to take that chance?" Dr Wyatt was studying him, as though fascinated by Booth's mental struggle to justify his relationship with his partner.

Booth stood and took his cup to the sink, resisting the urge to smash it into the good doctor's smirking, know-it-all face. Silently congratulating himself for his admirable self control, he leaned on the sink and stared blindly out the window. He couldn't argue with the doctor's assessment about love--he did feel it infusing his whole psyche. He was practically giddy with it sometimes. He'd never felt this way before. Every minute of every day, whether he was with her not, he was thinking about her, wondering what she was doing, remembering snatches of conversation, expressions on her face, the citrusy scent of her hair, the feel of her in his arms, her lips kissing his bare shoulder after they made love. The urge to go and find her, right now, was overwhelming and he had to fight it down. We're meeting for lunch at the diner at noon, he reminded himself. He felt his spirits rise at the thought.

Resolute, he turned and leaned his hips against the counter, meeting Dr Wyatt's curious gaze. "Yes, I'm willing to take the risk. I take risks on the job all the time, it's part of what I do. I realize it may not seem rational, but I need her...she--completes me and I'm tired of being incomplete. I want to be there for her, to keep her safe, like I always have. If I were to break it off, it would break her heart, and I couldn't handle that. So many people have hurt her, I'll be dammed if I'm going to become another one of them."

Dr Wyatt studied him for another minute, then took a deep breath and stood, apparently satisfied. "Well, then, I can see you're determined to go on with it, and I say, very good, best of luck and carry on. I believe if anyone can make a go of it, you can. Give Dr Brennan my best. Oh, and do you suppose we could meet next Tuesday morning at 10? Very good, well, goodbye then." Before he knew what had happened, Booth found himself on the doctor's front stoop and the door had closed firmly behind him. Shaking his head in confusion at the doctor's rather abrupt ending of their session, Booth walked to his car and got in. As he drove away his thoughts were drawn to Brennan once more. 'I wonder what she's doing right now? Is she thinking of me?' he thought, a smile moving across his face.

Booth found Brennan already seated at the counter in the diner. Sliding into the seat beside her, he felt his heart skip a beat as she smiled at him. He leaned in and gave her a more abbreviated kiss than he wanted to, but they didn't need to give the customers around them something to talk about.

"How did your therapy go?" Brennan asked, well aware that was a touchy subject for him. He signaled the waitress for a menu and fiddled with the sugar container in front of him.

"Fine. Listen, can we talk about something else?" he asked a bit testily.

Brennan's brows shot up. "That bad, huh? Sorry, I just thought it might help to talk about it." She opened her menu and began considering her options.

Booth sighed in frustration. "Don't get mad, Bones. I'd just rather not talk about it, okay? I mean, that's what Gordon and I do, talk, talk, talk about my issues and when the session is over, I just want to leave it be." He was looking over the menu, too, even though he already knew what he wanted.

Brennan shut the menu and gave her order to the hovering waitress. Booth did the same and then turned his full attention on Brennan, who had laid her hand over his. "I'm not mad, Booth, just concerned. I'm so glad you're getting help. You really need someone who can help you deal with the things you keep bottled up. Without that escape valve, I think things could get out of hand, violently. And next time I'm afraid you might shoot something more than a clown head."

Booth squeezed her hand. "I know, but it doesn't make it any easier. I'm not used to letting someone into my head and I doubt I'll ever become comfortable with it." Their meals arrived and Booth took the opportunity to change the subject. "Plates on the Camaro came back registered to a Brian McKay, 19 years old. I went to his address, he lives with his parents, works at a garage as a mechanic. They say he hasn't been around much lately. He hangs out with friends a lot and since he lives over their garage, he can pretty much come and go as he likes."

Brennan nodded thoughtfully. "With that little parental guidance, a young man could get involved in drugs, prostitution..."

"Street racing," Booth continued for her. "His parents gave him the Camaro for graduation last year and he's poured every extra penny into making it a class A street rod. I suspect that's where he spends his nights, that is, when he isn't picking up hookers." He ate a few bites, turning things over in his mind. "I'm thinking if the FBI showed up, our young hot rodder's gonna rabbit real quick. But if TONY were to show up, maybe as a recruiter looking for hotrods for a major street race coming up soon, he'd talk to us."

Brennan looked at him. "Us? What do you mean, us?"

Booth grinned at her. "Aw, now, you don't think Tony'd go anywhere without Roxie, now do ya?" he said in his best Tony voice. Brennan smiled back at him. She couldn't help it, the man could charm a corpse, and besides, the idea of going out as Roxie again had a certain appeal. When she was Roxie, she felt free to say and do things she wouldn't say and do normally. I bet Dr Wyatt would have a great time analyzing that, she thought wryly.

"Okay, what time do you need me ready? And what would be the proper attire?"

"Nine o'clock. Wear some tight jeans with sandals and a snug top of some kind. Your job is going to be keeping the guys off balance with that knockout figure of yours."

Brennan smiled, pleased at the compliment. "You think I have a nice body?"

Booth choked on the bite he'd just tried to swallow. Taking a drink of his water, he looked at his partner to see if she was just fishing for a compliment. The pleased look on her face told him she really had no clue how gorgeous she was. He decided to make it as clear as the public setting would allow. Leaning in close, he dropped his voice to a very intimate level. "I find you incredibly sexy and if we weren't in such a public place, I'd show you just how much I mean it." And then he kissed her softly, briefly slipping his tongue between her lips. Then he resumed eating.

Brennan sat in stunned silence, waiting for her blood pressure to return to normal. Her lips were still tingling from his kiss. How could he do that and then act like nothing happened? she wondered, bewildered at his swiftly changing moods. He glanced over at her as he ate, a devilish sparkle in his eye. He knew exactly what he did to her, she thought with dismay. Am I really that easily manipulated? she wondered. Then she smiled inwardly as a plan began to take shape in her mind. Two could play that game.