Sweets gave her the address and off they went. After a rather silent drive they arrived.
"Here we go." Sweets said as they walked up to door. "Wish me luck. I'll be out in a few." Sweets grinned and gave her a hug.
"Shall I wait?" Brennan asked.
"Yeah, I'll need a ride home." Sweets grinned before strolling into Heartfilia's office.
"Alright." She smiles. "Bye."
"Hello, Dr. Sweets, your late." Gary said, giving Sweets a disapproving look.
"I know." Sweets grumbled, trying to tuck his shirt in.
"How was your morning?" Gary asked, gesturing for Sweets to take a seat.
"Rushed." Sweets grumbled.
"I can tell." Gary smirked at Sweets, which earned him a glare.
"I know." Sweets sighed, sitting down.
"How was your night?" Gary asked, while doodling a dog on the notebook he held.
"It was good." Sweets glanced to the side. "The team and I had a sleepover at Dr. Brennan and Agent Booths house."
"You had a..." the tip of the pencil broke as the Brit stared at Sweets. "Seriously?"
"Hey, I'm with you on this one." Sweets shrugged. "But my friends foolishness isn't why I'm here. I'm here to get cleared."
"That's usually why you show up." The doctor hummed to himself, picking up a new pencil and continuing his doodle. "Why is there dried paint near your ear?"
"Face painting." Sweets said before shaking his head. "That's not the point! I'm really ready to be cleared now!"
"Are you now?" Gary asked, not looking up from the drawing. "I'm to be the judge of that."
"I'm not suicidal anymore, I am thus ready to be cleared!" Sweets nodded.
"Are you eating three good sized meals a day and sleeping 8-10 hours regularly for a week?" Gary cocked an eyebrow without raising his gaze. "Those were also things you had to do to be cleared. I'm also apprehensive about giving you a gun, thank you."
"I am eating and sleeping fine. I have nightmares and sometimes I throw up if I eat too much but I'm getting there! I'm so close! And I want to live and WORK. It's in my professional option that going to work again could HELP ME." Sweets said, nodded quickly.
"You don't get a professional opinion on yourself." Gary laughed.
"Well too bad. Because I do." Sweets stuck his tongue out. "Clear me."
"Oi! That's rather rude." Gary finally looked up and gave Sweets a sad look.
"Hey, no sad face! No sad face!" Sweets shook his head. "I'm just saying, I'm ready to be cleared now so why should we prolong the inevitable?"
"Maybe I'm worried." The doctor sighed, slumping back in his chair. "Your my only current patient. I'm prolonging the inevitable boot I'm going to get when I clear you."
"What are you TALKING about?" Sweets snorted. "After you clear me the FBI will get off your back. I mean they might be a little miffed that you originally cleared me before I was ready and I tried to kill myself... Multiple times on the job."
"I'm an old man who nearly got their best bloke killed." Gary cocked his head to the side, daring Sweets to argue. The younger man shrunk backwards, and looked at the floor. "I've one doctorate and I'm not the crack profiler I used to be. They won't fire me, they'll give me a nice little pension while they 'investigate internal business' until I retire."
"I'm- uh I'm sorry, man." Sweets shuffled slightly. "I could talk around and see if I can help but... I don't know. I really need to get back to work and make things right."
"Putting off an inevitably pathetic end to a sad excuse for a career, that's what I'm doing." Gary mumbled solemnly, and it didn't appear he had wanted Sweets to hear, while turning to get the paperwork. "Sod it." Gary snatched the paper from underneath some very old, very rare looking books and slapped them onto his table. With a swift few movements he signed the papers, and effectively cleared Sweets. He held the papers out to the younger man. "The nice woman at the front desk will finish with the details and get you your FBI security pass back. Your gun is at the actual FBI, so pick it up there." Sweets carefully grabbed the papers but it felt wrong.
"I... Can help. I can make sure you get a job somewhere. Promise. And we- we can still talk, sometime. At the dinner maybe? We can have pie." Sweets tried to give the older man a warm look.
"Please." Gary shook his head, pouring water Sweets hadn't noticed boiling into a cup and added a tea bag. "Doctor, don't pity me. Go, before offends the secretary." Gary smiled at him, waving a hand towards the door. "I wish you luck." It wasn't luck to deal with Brennan, it was a sentence that held more gravity. Sweets' mind flashed to his father, just before he left for college.
A kind, old face smiling at him and motioning to the doors of the building where his mother waited. "I wish you luck, sport." His father had said, and he looked so, so proud.
If Sweets didn't know better he'd say Gary was looking at him with a bit of pride now, pride that he'd finally started to fix himself.
"Dr. Sweets are you okay?" Gary's vice snapped him back to the real world. "You space out there."
"What? Oh, um, Im sorry. I'll get going." Sweets stood up. "We will talk. Promise."
"However we'll manage to do that. Do you recall your adamant refusal to give me your number so I could remind you of appointments?" The doctor sighed at his cup of tea, glaring like it was to blame for all his misfortunes.
"Don't you try to pull that, I have my number you old git!" Sweets laughed. "We'll talk. I'm going to go save the staffs feels from Dr. Brennan. Psychology isn't her favorite subject." Sweets said, turning towards the door.
"Did. You just. Say. Feels?" Gary nearly shouted at the back of Sweets.
"Good bye!" Sweets said, walking out, closing the door behind them. "Guess who got cleared?" Sweets grinned at Brennan.
Brennan turned from the woman, who appeared to be nearly in tears and thoroughly frightened, and her entire face broke into a grin.
"Really?"
"Yup!" Sweets grinned but then looked to the woman. "Are you okay mam? Dr. Brennan what did you say to her?" Sweets pointed at the woman.
"I just asked why she was sleeping with when he's married." Brennan said, eyeing the woman with curiosity.
"Dr. Brennan- I'm sorry, mam'" sweets smiled at woman. "I'm sorry about Dr. Brennan she... Yeah." Sweets nudged the women and she walked off, scaried half to death. "Dr. Brennan, you can't just say things like that to people!"
"I don't understand. That man is obviously married, I met his wife. She is...what Booth has taught me to be a good person. Why do they want to hurt her?" Brennan asked, cocking her head just barely to the side.
"It's none of our business-" sweets shook his head and sighed. "Look let's just stop by the secretary. Then you can drive me to the FBI to get my gun and stuff then we can go home to the others and complete our morning."
"You are acting strange. You always answer my questions, this is unacceptable." Brennan said, and turned on her heels making her way towards the worried looking secretary. They quickly dealt with the secretary. Afterwards Brennan begrudgingly drove him to get his gun and security patch. She didn't go in with him. After awhile he returned.
"I got it." Sweets said awkwardly, tapping his gun holster, which was pinned to his belt.
"Great." She said, and started the car when he got in. "Do you want me to bring you to your apartment?"
"No. Let's go to your house to see the others." Sweets said, staring ahead.
"Do not act strangely anymore." Brennan stated as they pulled onto the road. "Please." She whispered.
"I'm not acting weird. I'm not acting like anything. I'm just sitting here." Sweets said, hand fidgeting at his side.
"I asked a question about the emotional reasoning behind someones behavior." Brennan said, glaring at the rode. "And you didn't give me an incite like you normally do with your...science." She said 'science' like another person might say 'giant spiders.'
"You know it's really offending the way you science there." Sweets snapped. "You might not like psychology but it's my livelyhood so, please!"
"IF it is your livelihood then why'd you ignore my question pertaining DIRECTLY to the emotions and actions of other human beings?" She barked, eyes not moving from the road.
"Why does this bother you so much?"
"Because I want to know why people hurt people when they know what they are doing!" She shouted, closing her eyes briefly before fixing the road with her piercing gaze. "It's something you would always explain to me. The things I don't understand, the logical reasons Booth can't give. I depend on it, on you!"
"Maybe I don't want to talk about that right now!" Sweets nearly growled. "You know what? I change my mind. Please, take me home to my apartment." Sweets huffed, aggravated.
"You are different, and I don't think it's in the best way." She concluded, swerving dangerously into the parking lot of his apartment, and Sweets then realized she'd been taking him here the entire time. "I created this fight, I knew you would react poorly but I felt it necessary you understand."
"Understand what?"
"Sometimes your like the man we knew, caring, kind to a fault, patient, clinical, smart, and a very good shrink. Sometimes you are violent, hurtful, angry, anti-social, uncaring, inconsiderate, and ignore the out come of any and everything you say to us." She said, leaning over him and opening his door. "Think about it, ."
"Violent? I'm not violent!" Sweets protested. "I'm not different either!"
"Your shouting at me." She said calmly, tilting her head. "You've taken rude tones, and raised your voice but never like this. You are using rude words coupled with elevated tone of voice and shouting at me. Different. When we got worried you left, you immediately yelled at us instead of rationalizing and using you knowledge of the human psyche to understand." She locked eyes with him, trying to telepathically communicate all the strange things he's been doing. "Different."
"I..." Sweets looked at her eyes for a second before shaking his head. "I'll see you at work." Sweets unbuckled himself and slid from the car, slamming the car door behind him.
The car started and pulled away, and Sweets noticed she was going the wrong direction but he didn't care. He wasn't different! That's ridiculous. He was just going through a rough patch. People go through rough patches. Sweets huffed and walked briskly towards his apartment. Dr. Brennan was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong wrong. He was fine! Just having a rough patch, he told himself as he strolled into his apartment. Of course he was normal, nothing changed, not really. He had been yelling a bit more frequently, but being the good little doctor for so long allowed that, didn't it? Then his mind flashed involuntarily to the way all his friends faces had looked that night when he was outside. All the hurt, shock, disbelieve, betrayal; all of it pounded in his visual memory. Sweets tried to shake it from his mind, with little success. He was in the right there, right? They were the ones that don't trust him. They are traumatized to. They needed help, not him. He was just being a person. He was vulnerable, and he is aloud to be so, right? Then all the times Angela had said it wasn't that they didn't trust him it was that they were worried, they didn't understand. That he didn't trust them. Oh God. He did trust them. He knew he did, but did they? Is that why they've all been so clingy, trying to regain his trust? His...love? Did they think they'd lost it? Sweets eyes widened in realization.
"DAMN IT!" Sweets cursed before kicked his couch, which hurt. Pretty bad. "I am an idiot." He growled at himself, hopping on one foot towards the kitchen. Coffee? That sounded good.
He started to fix coffee. He had to make it up to them. He told them he loved them. So how could he PROVE it? Prove love? Its not possible, is it? Some people buy things, but that seems impersonal. So he was screwed then, right? He sat on the counter and sipped his coffee angrily. He had to prove it, but he couldn't, so he was screwed. Great. He just... Has to show them that he is back. Right, let's start there.
##############################################################
Booth walked past the FBI meeting room, glancing inside causally before stopping when he saw Sweets, clad in his suit. He was sitting across from Hacker, talking away, sitting in his 'shrink stance.'Also sitting there was that new shrink bitch. She was looking at Sweets, clearly offended. Hacker didn't look offended at all. Sweets tapped the table in finality as he said something with a nod before leaning back and the lady shrink gapped at him. Hackers face broke into a proud smile as he looked Sweets over. He turned to the woman, placing a hand on her should and said something that made her turn red with anger. Sweets gave the fakest smile ever put on my a human being as she stood up, hand shaking with rage. Lance simply held up his hand and have a condescending wave before she stomped out.
"Is the wicked witch of east gone?" Booth grinned, popping his head in the door as she left.
"Only thanks to ." Hacker laughed, standing up. "He certainly showed a different side to get her out. I'll be sure she's sent to a behavioral therapist for a full evaluation Doctor." Hacker nodded to Sweets and left.
"Full evaluation?" Booth asked.
"Do you really want to know?" Sweets leaned back in his chair with almost, actually very, smug look on his face.
"Yes."
"I just offered my professional opinion on her mental state." Sweets said with the look of innocence so fake you could feel the 'I'm secretly evil and vindictive.' hanging in the air.
"Okay then, Evil Kenevil." Booth rolled his eyes and Sweets looked confused. "You want to come with me to eat lunch with me and Bones at the Diner?"
"Oh." Sweets face suddenly fell. "I really wish I could. But I have work and writing up the profiles with the one hand has been sorta... Slow moving. Dinner maybe? Or breakfast?"
"Sure, but don't take too long. Bones was mumbling about missing you." Booth gave him another grin, and shook his head. "I gotta go, we gotta case!"
"Oh?" Sweets asked, cocking his head to the side.
"Campsite is in ashes. Looked like a careless camper but it looks like it was murder." Booth shrugged.
"Well." Sweets smiled as he stood up. "If you need a profile for the case, I'll be in my office."
"Now that the crazy snipe is gone I'd love a profile." Booth laughed, turning to leave.
"Snipe?"
"I watched Up with Angela and the kids yesterday." Booth sighed heavily. "Shut up!" Seeley called as he heard Sweets laugh as he walked away.
Later Sweets sat at his desk, tediously trying to type profiles with his non-dominant hand. He glared down at his cast for a second. Nasty little thing. He looked to the clock on his computer after a few more words were tapped out. 8:30 PM. Damn. Sweets felt, and heard his stomach growl and groaned. He was only two thirds of the way done with his work. Booth threw his office door open, then promptly grabbed the handle and slammed it shut again. After a moment of utter confusion Sweets heard a steady knock.
"Busy?" Booths thick voice called through the oak, and the door stayed closed.
"Yeah, but I have a minute to talk!" Sweets called, glaring briefly at his computer screen."Something wrong, Booth?"
"We are getting nowhere." Booth growled when he opened the door. "Help?"
"Help with what exactly? I'm not a mind reader, Booth, I'm a hungry psychologist. Please, use your words. What do you need my help with?" Sweets sighed, leaning back in his chair and pressing a hand against his stomach so it wouldn't growl.
"Our killer sent the widow an 'I'm sorry' letter with a check for like five grand!" Booth groaned, pushing his palms to his eyes. "Hungry?"
"Never mind." Sweets waved Booths question of hunger away. "Now thus new development indicates sorrow or guilt over the murder. Possibly that it was accident but if that that's not possible then I would look at any of the suspects that had a close relationship with the victim. Or quite possibly the spouse. He/she might not be sorry about the murder so much as they feel bad that they took him from the wife."
"That...makes sense." Booth's face lit up, and he grinned. "Thanks!"
"No problem." Sweets sighed before starting to go back to tapping words out. His stomach growled loudly in protest.
"Come on." Booth said, grabbing Sweets arm."You need to eat. You really don't need to loose any more weight."
"I have work to do, Agent Booth. I'll grab breakfast with you and Brennan in the morning." Sweets sighed. "I wish I could hang around more but we have to work now that the team is reassembled. Tell Dr. Brennan to call me if she wants me to come over or something." Sweets was now talking about Booths earlier statement about Brennan mumbling about missing him.
"You. Need to. Eat!" Booth huffed, slipping into his 'I'm your father, and you will damn well listen to me' tone. Sweets glanced up to see Booths retreating figure. The doctor thought that's where it ended until the noise of his door being flung open startle him from his work twenty minutes later.
"W-what?!"
"Food." Booth said, dropping take out on Sweets' desk and plopping onto his couch with a sandwich.
"Thank you, Agent Booth but-" Sweets smiled at him, holding a hand up.
"No but. No ifs ands or buts. Eat." Booth huffed, biting into his sandwich.
"Don't you have a family to be with?" Sweets chuckled, opening up the take out bag.
"Bones is playing with her bones and Christine is a daycare." Booth rolled his eyes.
"This late?" Sweets quirked a brow.
"Okay, I lie. Christine is sleeping in a drawer in Angela's office with Michael Vincent, but Bones is still with her bones." Booth shook his head. "Nothing gets past you. Now eat, can't have you starving."
"Speaking of Dr. Brennan, is she okay? We had a fight earlier and... I feel badly. Is she alright?" Sweets shuffled and picked at his food.
"She feels guilty, far as I can tell." Booth shrugged, looking away.
"Of course." Sweets sighed, leaning back in his seat and looking up at the ceiling and running a hand through his hair.
"She'll be fine, she's Bones." He laughed awkwardly. "Eat or I'll make you."
"Yeah, yeah." Sweets mumbled, leaning foreword. "Look... Just tell her I'm sorry that I yelled at her. It wasn't cool. I'd do it myself but... I don't want to bother her and I don't have a good track record with her lately."
"Sure, if you eat." Booth said, pointing his finger at the food. "Now."
Sweets sighed and took a bite.
"You can't avoid having these conversations with me." Sweets mumbled sadly through his food. "It might be uncomfortable but if we ever want to get past all this we need to talk."
"I'm more of an action guy."
"Okay then." Sweets nodded, agitation flashing behind his eyes. "What action should we take to fix these EMOTIONAL problems, hm?"
"Shooting range?" Booth shrugged.
"I could do that. I got my gun." Sweets then continued under his breath. "I certainly feel like shooting something."
"Then let's go." Booth said.
"I have work Booth." Sweets shook his head and took another bite.
"Oh screw work you need a break." Booth said, crossing his arms. "C'mon what's an hour to free your mind up? Maybe you'll be hit with sudden inspiration."
"Sudden inspiration to what?" Sweets gave a snort. "I have another three profiles to type with my non-dominate hand! It's a tedious thing. I would love to go, but I can't." Sweets sighed, taking another bite before shifting around for a second. "I'm sorry I wasn't around much today. That insane shrink left me with a bunch of unfinished work and with my hand... I promise I'll free myself up some time tomorrow so we can do something. I thought coming back to work would help me... Well our, problems. I really hope I'm right."
"Typing?" Booths face lights up with a grin and he jumps up and runs out before Sweets can diagnose him with something. Ten minutes late he comes back in with a box with a pretty woman talking into a headset on the front. "Dragon. Talk to type."
"Uh, cool." Sweets squeaked, taking the thing into his hands. "Just, uh, give me a few minutes and then we can go do something real quick." Sweets said and Booth gave him a nod. After several minutes and a brief argument with an intimate object, Sweets was finished with the profiles. "Thanks, Booth, this will really help me with work intill my hand heals."
"It's no problem." Booth grinned, standing up. "Ready to go?"
"Yeah, I guess." Sweets smiled uncertainly, glancing off to the side slightly as he stood up. "My shot might be off since I'm shooting with my non-dominant hand."
"That's fine just don't shoot me." Booth laughed.
"Where'd you get the dragon thing?"
"Oh I bought at midnight off a commercial once." Booth said nonchalantly.
"Midnight... Was- um, was it when I was... Away?" Sweets stuttered.
"Hm. Yeah think it was. The days kinda mash together when you don't sleep." Booth shrugged, turning his phone to vibrate. "Want to go to the FBI range or the one just out of town?"
"FBI. It's closest." Sweets shook his head, fidgeting slightly. "Let's just go. Get it over with so I can get home. I'm tired."
"Hey crabby, I can bring you right home if that's what you want." Booth offered, turning towards the parking lot instead. "Or walk you to your car anyways."
"I'm sorry that I snapped..." Sweets shook his head. "I really am tired and feel bad about fighting with Dr. Brennan and just... I'm really tired." Sweets sighed, biting his lip.
"Then go home." Booth sighed, opening the door to the parking garage.
"But I feel bad." Sweets said. "I haven't been around all day. I promised Dr. Brennan I would still be around after I was cleared."
"She won't come to the FBI if she doesn't have to, none of them will. They stay in the lab, and I hardly bring anyone in the field anymore. She wouldn't have seen you here anyways." Booth explained.
"I know all that!" Sweets groaned, walking up to his car. "I just want to keep my promise and I saw everyone even less then I normally would! I know you guys want to spend more time with me- or at least you all SAID you did. But I was in a coma do I may have misheard."
"Sweets, don't get angry at me for saying this but: Take a breath, and stop acting like a teenager." Booth groaned, leaning against the wall and grabbing Sweets by the arm.
"Did you just say I was acting like a teen-"
"Yes." Booth nodded, and Sweets made a face. "You need to stop being so self conscious, we all want to see you, we all care about you, and no ones mad anymore. Bones was when she got home but Angela fixed it, some how, and we're basically all ready for your 'feelings talk' whenever you'd like to give it."
"Feelings talk?" Sweets questioned. "Booth I tried to talk to you earlier and you just brushed it off! I remember things from my coma, remember, Booth? We have a lot of to talk about. Or, you have to talk to me. My shooting brought up a lot of feelings that haven't been dealt with, given the new onslot of feelings that I forced on you all. There is a lot to deal with. We will get to it. But it'll take more then a 'feelings talk' it's going to be a process."
Booth's eyes widened and for a moment Sweets thought he was going to yell but then Booth put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him in for a quick, awkward 'man hug.'
"That's the genius bastard I know." He grinned at Sweets.
"I don't know wether I should be insulted or happy." Sweets chuckled.
"You don't even know how happy I am you finally lost the New York-ish accent." Booth teased, shaking his head.
"What are you talking about?" Sweets snorted.
"Where ever the hell you ran off to, you picked up a funny accent. Barely, really, but you had this strange way of making your 'r's roll slightly, and sounding like you nearly had a lisp." Booth shrugged.
"Why didn't anyone tell me!?" Sweets pouted. "I would have stopped if you guys told me that I was doing it."
"We honestly thought it was hilarious, especially when you said 'ridiculous.'" Booth grinned.
"You suck." Sweets pouted, opening his car door. "Mean, your all mean. Letting me walk around talking like that."
"Aw, c'mon." Booth laughed, walking towards his own vehicle. His phone vibrated and he let out a deep sigh. "I gotta go to the lab. Want to come?"
"I really should be getting home... But..." Sweets bit his lip. "It won't hurt to stop by for a minute."
"Follow me or ride with?" Booth asked.
"I'm not a teenager!" Sweets hollered, hopping into his own car and starting it up. Booth shook his head and got in his car. They quickly drove down to the Jeffersonian and made their way into the building.
"I'm here!" Booth hollered. "And I brought a gift!" He nudged Sweets.
"Put a bow on my head?" Sweets huffed, crossing his arms.
"Simmer down." Booth laughed, shaking his head.
"A gift?" Brennan asked, approaching him before laying eyes on Sweets and smiling. "Dr. Sweets!"
" ." he gave a hesitant smile and looked at the floor.
"It is good to see you!" She smiled at him. "I have some evidence to go over with Booth so you can go play with Christine and Michael. They are napping in the middle drawer in Angela's office."
"That wasn't a weird sentence." Sweets mumbled sarcastically. "Okay, see you in a bit then. It was nice to see you." Sweets gave her a quick armed hug before skittering away. He went into Angela's office and tip toed over to her drawers and opened the middle one, which was already peaked open, all the way. The inside looked like a nursery threw up in it and inside were two adorable, napping babies known as Christine and Michael Vincent. "Awwwwww."
"Aren't they precious?" Angela whispered while looking down at her tablet.
"They are too cute!" Sweets squeaked, grinning at them. "I just want to love and hug on them. So cute."
"Fanboy." She laughed.
"Shut up!" Sweets glared at her before hearing a niose and looking to see Michael looking up at him, blinking sleep from his eyes before smiling.
"Sees! Sees!" The child cooed, reaching up at him.
"Sees?" He asked Angela.
"Sweets. The boy adores you." She laughs.
"Unc Sees!" The baby cooed, squirming.
"Uncle Sweets is here." Sweets cooed back, poking the child's belly, making him laugh. The child seized his hand and grabbed at Sweets fingers, making all those adorable little baby grunt/sigh sounds.
"That just made my day better." Angela laughed.
"What did?" Sweets laughed as Michael Vincent continued to play with his hand.
"That. you, in the lab, in a suit, smiling and playing with my baby. It made me smile." Angela laughed, looking again then turning back to her work.
"Good." Sweets chuckled before becoming lost in his mind as he continued playing with him. Sweets scooped the child up in his good arm and he started to forget that anyone else was there. "Your so cute." Sweets whispered, bouncing him softly. "And so happy to see me. You love me, don't you? Cause I'm your Uncle Sweets. You don't... Worry where I've gone or where I am or wether or not I trust you or love you. You just sit there, happy to see me." Sweets gave the child a soft nuzzle.
"Seets!" The baby giggled again, and Angela cleared her throat awkwardly.
"Wha?" Sweets blinked and looked at Angela. "Oh uh, sorry, I'll put him back." Sweets went to go slide the child back into the drawer.
"It's uh, it's fine." She managed, shaking her head. "Hold him, actually-er, uh watch him could you? For a second I need to-" Her voice broke off and she practically dropped the tablet before running off.
"Angela!?" Sweets called before looking back down to Michael Vincent with a sigh.
"Oi!" Hodgins yelped when his wife pushed passed him. The bewildered man peeked into her office and rose an eyebrow. "Did she spill her paint again? She cries when she does that, as of late."
"Angela cries when she spills paint?" Sweets questioned, bouncing Michael Vincent in his arms
"Yes." Hodgins sighs, hanging his head.
"That's weird." Sweets sighed. "You should go talk to her. She needs to talk."
"She told me it's because the red mixes with the green but they don't really mix. They look so beautiful next to each other and alone, but together they make brown and it's like a horrible love story." He looks so much like a confused toddler that Sweets nearly laughs. "It's so strange. I asked if she was pregnant again, but no she's just...worried about inanimate objects love life's."
"That was a very... Interesting little convoluted story but sorta meant you should go talk to her now." Sweets gave him a look. "She seemed upset."
"I'm not talking to her about the crying or the damn paint!" Hodgins nearly shouts, looking frightened. "She's scary. First she starts to explain but then she gets all angry, and I'm not doing that again!"
" you need-"
"No. Nope, no. I have particles to analyze." He says, running back to his lab.
"Okay, little guy, just you and me." Sweets sat down Angela's couch and put Michael Vincent on his lap and dailed up Angela's number on his phone.
"Christine is in the drawer. Don't forget." Is what greeted him when she answered.
"I remember. That's why I didn't chase you." Sweets said into the phone. "Are you okay? What's wrong, Angela?"
"It's not about the paint." She whispers, and he can hear her sniffle.
"I figured that yeah." Sweets murmured into the phone. "What's wrong? Did- did I do something?"
"Not-not really." She laughed sadly.
"Then what's wrong?" Sweets asked softly.
"I-I don't know." She stuttered. "I-I'm just s-sad."
"Angela, I'm not stupid." Sweets said into the phone. "Something set you off, just come on back and hold your baby and talk to me."
"Okay." Then the dial tone rings out and Sweets looks down at the baby.
"Your mommy is exasperating." Lance sighed.
"Seets." The baby said in a very serious tone of agreement.
"Your getting closer. We just got to get the w sound down." Sweets smiled at the child and poked his nose. Michael blinked and made a surprised squeak. "So cute."
"S-waaah-eets." The baby replied.
"Your so cute." Sweets laughed, tickling him under his chin. Angela walked back into the room.
"He is." She smiled sadly, leaning against the wall.
"So come over here and hold your baby. He'll make you feel better, cause he's magic. He's a magic baby." Sweets booped Michael Vincent's nose and gave her a sad 'we need to talk' smile.
"Magic you say?" She smiled, taking the baby in her arms. "Ah I see what you mean."
"Sit down." Sweets patted the spot next him. "We need to talk."
"Fiiine." She groaned, sitting down.
"Angela, your upset." Sweets said softly. "You cried. I just want to help. What happened? Did I do something to set you off?"
"Just emotional, sweety. Don't worry." She waved him off, getting up to check on Christine.
"Angela!" Sweets said, aggravated. "Don't lie to me. I know I did something to set you off so just tell me so we can talk it down. I have had a really long day Angela, and I'm not in a mood to play emotional Ring-around-a-Rosie with you! Just tell me!" Angela had her back to him, and her shoulders slumped forward when he yelled. Sweets heard the noise of strangled breath, like she was pushing back more tears.
"D-d-don't yell a-at me-e." She choked out, dropping her head to inspect the floor.
"O-oh!" Sweets gasped, instantly felt bad. His voice dripped with guilt. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was yelling... I just want to help." Sweets voice cracked when he said 'help.'
"I know sweety, I know." She sighed deeply before shaking herself and turning to him. "I felt bad, about what you said...to Michael Vincent."
"You h-heard that?" Sweets stuttered. "I'm sorry I thought- wait... W-why do you feel bad?"
"Dunno." She shrugged.
"Angela." Sweets sighed sadly, fed up with her. "Don't tell me, okay. Give me a call when your ready to talk. I'm going home." Sweets stood up to leave.
"Your a right jerk sometimes." She laughed, shaking her head. "I mean I actually don't know why I'm upset!"
"Well you obviously have something bothering you." Sweets sighed, secretly hurt that he was just called a jerk. "I think I know what it is but I would prefer you tell me yourself. But you probably don't want to talk about it do you?"
"Honey...I just cried. It was nothing, really, I do it. It wasn't a big deal. You worry to much." She smiled. "I'm not saying this to be difficult, I'm being honest. Please stop assuming I'm doing things just to put you off."
"Well what do you expect me to do!? You all are so difficult! I'm just trying to help but none of you ever want to talk. I'm so sick of all this... I-I'm tired. I'm going home. See you tomorrow." Sweets sighed and started to go.
"Maybe we wouldn't be difficult if you didn't yell." Angela whispered, but Sweets heard and stopped dead in his tack. "You aren't the only tired one." Her voice was louder, but not angry, more like ashamed or sad. She was hanging her head like a little child who accidentally broke something, and shuffling her feet. "I'm sorry we aren't normal friends." He expected her to sound vicious, bitter, angry, anything, but her voice was low and filled with self-doubt. An actual apology.
An actual apology to him, for being herself.
"Ngggggh..." Sweets sighed, turning around. "Don't do that. Don't apologize for that. I'm sorry. I just... I don't understand why..." Sweets stuttered, holding back tears. "Just... Don't do that."
"Do what?" She cried out, throwing her arms to the side. "You always tell us to stop, but never tell us what. What are we doing?"
"First, we should stop yelling because-" Sweets stops as Christine started crying. "We'll wake Christine."
"Wonderful." Angela sighed, walking to the baby.
"I got her." Sweets jogged over. "You handle Michael Vincent, he looks sorta... Fussy." Sweets looked at Michael, who was starting to squirm and looked like he was about to cry. Sweets scooped up the crying Christine and bounced her, cooing softly. Angela lifted her own baby and smiled at him.
"Angela... I'm sorry I've been so... Y'know." Sweets said, soothing Christine. "It's all just been... A lot to deal with and I feel like my head is exploding all the time."
"Your not alone in that." She laughed, holding her tired baby close as he began drifting to sleep. "I understand. Alls well, dont worry."
"You don't understand." Sweets almost whimpered. "I said before that you don't understand. Please don't lie to me, I can't deal with it, can't we all just be honest with each other? Speak our minds? It would make my job much easier."
"I'm not lying!" She hissed, looking annoyed and offended at being called a liar. Repeatedly.
"You said yourself before that you don't understand!"!
"I don't understand everything!" Angela growled. "But this, I get. You feel confused and emotional. Everything seems scary to you and you don't know why! You are constantly questioning wether or not we even like you. You think we don't trust you. Any of this ringing a bell!?"
"Okay...maybe you get it." Sweets mumbled, looking at the floor.
Sweets walked over with the sniffling Christine and and sat her back down in the drawer. She hiccuped and smiled up at Sweets and he gave her a gentle poke and she laughed. "Um... Earlier today, I was doing a profile and then I suddenly burst into tears. An agent walked in and now they think I'm a loon." Sweets laughed towards the end of his story.
"Maybe you should diagnose him a loon." She smiled.
"I just hope he doesn't report it to Hacker!" Sweets laughed.
"I'm sure he won't." Angela giggled, laying Michael Vincent down in the draw again.
"Angela... About what you heard earlier." Sweets said, smiling sadly down at Christine as he played with her. "I'm... Really sorry it's just... So easy with the kids. They aren't as complicated, their simple. Happy."
"I understand, really." She smiles.
"Can... Can you explain it to me?" Sweets voice cracked. "'Cause I don't."
"They just smile and listen and if they love you they're on your side. No matter what." She looked down at her son, smiling. "They just love you, no matter what you do or say. They see you and they smile, if they do get angry they forget it and keep laughing, never using it against you."
"That sounds just about right." Sweets whispered, smiling as Christine yawned and shut her eyes. "I need to get going. I'm tired and Daisy is coming over tonight. I need to get my place ready."
"Alright, you two kids be good." Angela laughed, tucking a blanket around her son.
"What? No." Sweets laughed, walking away. Angela laughed again, then peeked around the door to call after the younger man.
"Glad to see you finally dropped the accent."
"Shut up!" Sweets hollered back and Angela laughed as he made it out the door.