Respect

Booth liked to believe that he was a good said, locker room talk was just one of those things that happened. He participated when he had something to share. The guys had heard all about his 'dates' with Regina. He took solace in the fact that every time he walked past Regina and her girlfriends in the hall they all suppressed giggles. Clearly, he wasn't the only one who talked.

His friendship with Bones though, that was sacred. So, when Eric Henderson asked him about her, he responded with vague politeness. When pressed, he said she didn't date. It wasn't technically a lie. He had never heard of her going on a date in all the time he had known her, but he still felt the need to confess after he said it.

He wanted Bones to make friends, but the idea of her being groped under the bleachers by Eric, made his stomach turn. He didn't examine that reaction too closely though. If he did, he might not be able to keep denying his growing feelings. Still, the guilt burned in his chest until he couldn't ignore it anymore.

They were sitting on the couch watching Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Bones was rolling her eyes and pointing out every anachronism.

"He is speaking hindi. If, and I am just saying if, we are to believe this is a 'magical' stone from ancient India, it would respond to Sanskrit not hindi."

"Well, if we are going to get technical, Wu Han's revolver is wrong too," Booth shrugged.

"Really?"

"Yeah, he has a Smith & Wesson model 10, which is technically possible, but extremely unlikely. The sight, however, is from the model 10-1 not released until 1959."

She looked at him sideways from a moment. He could tell she was trying to tell if he was lying, but he knew he was right, and it read in his eyes. Eventually, she nodded, made a slight hum and turned back to the screen.

That was what made him ask. She trusted him. If anyone else had made the claim, she would have insisted on checking it out for herself, but she trusted him, and he knew he wasn't quite worthy of that trust.

So, he hit pause. She turned back looking confused.

"We have a few more minutes before the boys get home," she said, double checking her watch to be sure.

"I know, but I wanted to ask you something…"

"What?"

Her curious, open expression made him second guess himself. "Do you… I mean, someone… Eric, Eric Henderson, I think he is in your econ class, but he umm, asked me and…"

"Booth! Just ask me," she said putting a hand on his to steady him.

"Do you want to date?" he asked, the words coming out in one breath. She snatched her hand back and stood suddenly, a blush quickly blooming on her cheeks.

"I think I heard a car. I need to go. I shouldn't…" She was walking backward as she spoke. Her eyes darting around like a spooked deer.

"Bones… Temperance, I didn't mean…" He reached for her, caught her arm gently, just trying to keep her from running, but the second his hand touched her, she jerked away, slipping on the kitchen's slick linoleum. The back of her head hit the edge of the table as she fell. Like it was in slow motion surprise, pain and fear flickered across her face, before her eyes fluttered shut. He caught her before her head hit the ground, preventing any farther damage, but as his hand moved to inspect the back of her head, it encountered a warm thatch of hair already sticky with blood.

As things couldn't get any worse, Jared and Lance came through the door a minute later. They were laughing about something as they walked into the kitchen, but as soon as Lance's eyes fell on Booth on the floor, lifeless Temperance in his lap and blood on his hands, the boys launched himself at Booth, a ball of righteous fury. Tiny ineffectual fists pounded into him, as the boy screamed.

Booth had no idea what to do. His eyes went to Jared, who stood in the kitchen door. His brother's face was devoid of any emotion. He just looked vacant. Booth recognized the look from the times he hadn't been able to protect Jared. It was the boy's coping method, he just pretended he wasn't there. Sadly Jared was as good at coping as the rest of them. They had all had too much practice.

"Jared!" Booth yelled, trying to snap him out of his trance. Then he tried again, this time using a calm but authoritative tone. "Jared, I need you to help me."

Jared blinked.

"Just get him off of me for a minute. Bones slipped and hit her head. I need to make sure she is alright, but I can't do that with him like this."

Jared blinked again, this time taking in the scene in front of him. Then he stepped forward and scooped Lance into his arms, wrapping him in a tight hug. Booth heard Jared humming softly, but his focus was the girl in his lap.

The fact that she hadn't woken up with all the noise was terrifying. He grabbed a dishtowel that was hanging from the stove and pressed it to the back of her head to staunch the blood, his mind racing from something else to do. He checked her pulse, which was steady, then her breathing, which was shallow.

Then a thought occurred to him. Maybe she was like Jared. Maybe she was just hiding somewhere inside herself, waiting until it was safe to come out again. Maybe what she needed was calm. He pulled her up to lean on his chest and whispered in her ear.

"It's okay now, Bones. You're safe. I got you. You gotta wake up though. Lance is worried about you."

Her eyes fluttered open, before she squeezed them closed. "Mmm, Booth? What happened?"

"You hit your head. The boys are home now, and I think Lance would like to make sure you're okay."

"Of course," she mumbled, trying to stand, but she stumbled. Booth's hands on her back and arm steadied her. "I'm fine. Come here, Lance."

"Are you feeling dizzy? Nauseous? You should recite the periodic table. You probably have a concussion," Lance asked.

"How do you know about that, bud?" Booth asked, surprised by the usually quiet boy's knowledge.

Lance glared at him, before returning to his inspection of his foster sister.

"Lance likes to read medical text books. He is going to be a doctor someday," Temperance explained proudly, before dutifully listing the elements. Once Dr. Lance was finished with his assessment, she made an excuse from them to leave.

When they got home, it took a while for Temperance to convince Lance that Booth had done nothing wrong. They went about their daily routine, until bedtime when Lance knocked on her door.

"I have to wake you up every hour," he said by way of explanation.

"Of course," she smiled, patting the bed. When Lance woke her up at five, she decided it was time to start the day. As she did her chores she thought about Booth. She had been thinking about Booth all night, or more specifically, what Booth had asked her.

He couldn't have known about her last foster brother. He had no reason to think she would react to an innocent question so violently. In fact, she hadn't even known herself. She thought she had moved past it. That was what the court appointed therapist said. She had been given a clean bill of mental health. Then again, she had never taken much stock in psychology.

She kept seeing the sad, hurt look in his eyes as she left. It wasn't his fault. She had already admitted to herself that she found him attractive. It wasn't surprising that he would ask her out, and yet it was. Before Booth, she had been a social outcast. They popular kids teased her. She never knew the right thing to say. People thought she was too smart or too morbid or just too weird.

She left the house a half hour early hoping to avoid him, but it was not to be. Booth was already waiting for her at the end of the driveway.

"I brought you a hot chocolate and a banana."

She noticed he didn't move toward her at all and held his offers at arms length. "Thank you," she sighed. "Since we are both up so early, do you want to go to the park?"

"Yeah, I think that would be good."

The walk was quiet. Neither was quite sure where to begin. As they sat on the swings they booth spoke at once.

"It wasn't your fault…" "I'm sorry…"

She sighed, and started again. "It wasn't your fault, Booth. You know my past is complicated. That's why I don't think it is a good idea for us to go out."

"Oh, uh, yeah, that wasn't what I meant. I mean I like you… as a friend… in a attagirl kind of way, but I just meant would you like to date in general. Eric asked about you and if you might go to the next dance with him, and I didn't know what to say. Except that's a lie, I told him you don't, but then I realized that you might like to, um, go out with him, so I just thought I would, you know, check."

Temperance blushed. How could she have been so stupid. Of course he didn't want to go out with her. She was so embarrassed, she completely missed the second half of what he said.

Booth watched the emotions on her face as best he could from his position beside her. The embarrassment was clear, but there was something else. After a minute, he was forced to ask again.

"So, would you like to go to the dance with him?"

"Who?"

"Eric Henderson."

"No, I don't dance."

"Oh." Relief flooded through him, but he still found himself asking, "You don't dance? At all?"

"I haven't had much opportunity."

"Would you like to? I could teach you."

"I…" she blushed, shook her head and restarted with new determination. "No, I can't. I have a big project in… Spanish. I need to work on."

Booth knew she was lying. He could see it written all over her face, but he decided not to call her on it. Yet…