A/N Hello and welcome back! Apologies for the delay in getting this chapter proof-read and edited; work has been keeping me incredibly busy as my shift has changed, yet again… *sigh*
I was hoping that this chapter would end up a little longer, but I had to cut a portion out for inconsistencies. With any luck, when I proof the next chapter, it will be a little longer for those of you who prefer the longer chapters.
Disclaimer: Nope…. I still own nothing except for my little story line!
The partners entered the banquet hall side by side, greeting people as they moved to the table that had been unofficially claimed by the Hoover teammates. Feeling far more at ease than she had just a couple days before, Brennan immediately smiled warmly at Genevieve Shaw and Janet Soto as they approached.
"Good morning, Agent Shaw, Agent Soto." While the anthropologist was more comfortable with the women, she was still socially awkward and uncertain of protocol, so she started to extend her hand in greeting, only to pull it back immediately when she saw Booth simply nod as he greeted his colleagues.
"Good morning, Dr. Brennan," Shaw smiled, somewhat surprised at the initiated greeting from the scientist. "Y'know, you can call me Jenny if you want. Or just Shaw. There is no need to be so formal." The young agent was conducting an experiment of sorts, for her own amusement.
"Oh," Brennan flushed, unsure if it would be professionally acceptable to address one of her partner's subordinates in such a familiar manner. "Alright…" Her pale eyes flashed to her partner, who was already engaged in conversation with Agent Thompson, the two men discussing a sporting event that occurred the night before. "Shaw…" She spoke quietly, rolling the singular name off her tongue, as if testing how it felt. "Jenny…" She nodded, more to herself than to anyone else.
Shaw watched in patient silence as the woman who had once terrified her tested the waters of familiarity. She stifled a smile, not wanting Brennan to think she was laughing at her. Just as she was about to rescue the scientist, telling her that whatever she was most comfortable with would be fine, Brennan interrupted.
"Good morning, Jenny." She nodded once with a smile. "And," she thought carefully, struggling with letting go of her professional image, the one thing that set her apart from everyone else in the room. "When we are in social settings, I don't mind if you address me as…" She swallowed nervously. "Dr. B… Or Temperance…. Or Tempe..." She felt it necessary to quantify the boundaries. "But anytime we are on the job, at a crime scene or the Hoover, or at the lab if you ever find yourself there, I would prefer if it you would please maintain professionalism, and address me as Dr. Brennan." Raising her eyebrows quickly, she continued. "I will, naturally, observe the same guidelines, addressing you as Agent Shaw while working… You worked hard to earn your title, as did I, and you deserve the respect that accompanies your status."
Shocked and amazed, Shaw felt the corners of her lips curl into a smile. "Of course, I wouldn't dream otherwise."
Brennan grinned, feeling as if she had been transported back to college, when she was just meeting new people. Turning her attention to Soto, she nodded. "And, although we have just met this weekend, we will no doubt cross paths again, Agent Soto… If you are comfortable with a similar arrangement, I do not mind if you wish to follow the same guidelines..."
Janet's face broke out into an eager smile. "Yes, please!" When they were preparing to come to the convention, Shaw had warned her about Booth's genius-partner, and how she was most often viewed as cold or distant. But in her limited exposure to the forensic anthropologist, Soto suspected the woman was grossly misunderstood. "Please, call me Janet. I can't seem to get used to people calling me by my last name."
Brennan bowed her head in understanding and suddenly felt a pair of familiar eyes looking at her. Turning her head, she saw Booth smiling, and it was obvious he had overheard the conversation, even while being engrossed in his passionate debate about the outcome of Sunday night's game. Recognizing the look on his face as one of approval, she swallowed a chuckle and turned her attention to greeting some of the other agents circling the table, though she made no effort to become more familiar with anyone else. Somewhere deep inside, despite the feeling of accomplishment at her newfound companionship with the two women claiming the chairs to her right, she still held firmly to her professional persona, and she didn't want to relinquish that to anyone else for a while.
As the food trolleys started rolling into the room, Booth and Brennan settled in their seats among his subordinates and counterparts from other divisions. An air of camaraderie was present and everyone tucked into their breakfast selections as dishes were distributed by the many servers assigned to the conference. Bumping her shoulder gently, Booth gave Brennan a knowing wink, happy to see she was loosening up around a couple of his agents. He knew that it would only be a matter of time before she was confident enough to speak freely, without setting metaphorical barriers and guidelines, but he was pleased to see her progress thus far. Conversations volleyed relatively easily amongst the various agents during breakfast and once the food was consumed, the moderators of the convention called attention to the front of the room.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Simmons stood before the crowd. "Good morning." He smiled broadly, feeling a sense of commonality radiating from the attendees. "We hope you all had a wonderful afternoon of rest and relaxation yesterday. We know many of you took advantage of the beautiful pool and spa, not to mention the warm sands of our beach," he chuckled at the reaction as several folks clapped in response. "And, I understand that quite an intense beach volleyball tournament had formed out there by early evening…" Another, more raucous response erupted from several tables as the highly competitive participants of the game fistpumped the air and shared high-fives with one another. "Whatever you ended up doing, hopefully the reprieve left you all refreshed and ready for a great week of break-out sessions."
He nodded to his assistant, and the large monitors on either side of the stage flickered to life. Random pictures of agents partaking in various activities from the day before flashed across the screens. There were images of the aforementioned volleyball game, several of people swimming & sitting poolside raising drinks in cheer, the group of jet-skiers that had invited Brennan to join them, shots of people lined up side by side on stationary bikes and treadmills in the hotel gym and finally, the image of Booth and Brennan on a wave-runner following a small family pod of dolphins. As the various photos flashed up, people clapped and laughed, reliving the fun they had the day before. Simmons regained the attention of the attendees, reining them back into order.
"We also have the updated scores for our...friendly competition." He grinned as people simultaneously laughed and groaned. Turning to the monitor, he watched as candid photo collages of Sunday morning's group session scrolled past. "Several teams successfully earned points for participating, and many of you were even awarded bonus points for sharing your thoughts with the group. Some of the positive feedback and comments we heard about Dr. Lance Sweets' exercise included 'cathartic,' 'enlightening,' and 'surprising.' Now," he glanced around the room, "without any further ado, I give you the updated rankings of the top three teams…"
B/B/B/B
"Just because they didn't like the way we participated doesn't mean we should be punished by not being awarded points." Brennan was angry to learn that they had been completely bumped from the top three teams as a result of their very public explosion the previous morning. She balked while allowing Booth to guide her towards the meeting room where Mickey's first session was taking place. "When you really think about it, we should have so many points and be so far in the lead that no one can catch us… Surely we made the most progress of everyone…" She grumbled as he ushered her towards the back of the room, aiming at the very last row.
"It's ok, Bones. You know it doesn't really win us anything, right? I mean, it's just a dumb contest…"
Halting abruptly, Brennan about-faced, causing Booth to practically plow into her. "Bones," he grabbed her biceps to steady her.
Never one to be dissuaded from her thoughts, the anthropologist ignored his questioning eyes and pushed her finger against his chest. "It does mean something, Booth! Anthropologically speaking, the other attendees of this conference will view the winning team with respect… A team that is worthy of admiration...one which deserves all the accolades that accompany such a station of social and societal standard... Your success within the ranks of the FBI is almost unprecedented. You certainly hold the record in recent history for the fastest rate at which you progressed from Junior Field Agent to Senior Field Agent and most recently, Agent in Charge of Major Crimes in one of the busiest and burdensome field offices in the US. You hold that distinction, Booth." She squared her shoulders, unable to hide the pride she felt in praising him of his successes. "And this, as you call it, meaningless contest is your way to show some of these younger, less experienced agents that it is possible to achieve said greatness," a gentle curl raised one corner of her mouth as her nose turned up in indignation. "Not to mention what a superb opportunity it would be to prove just how wrong those nay-sayers were, when they said a partnership forged between the Federal Government and the Jeffersonian would be a waste of time and resources…"
Booth stood there, dumbfounded and grinning like a fool at her spiel. It took all his energy to not grab her and kiss her senseless. It was times like this, when she was passionate about proving a point, that her eyes took on a glowing quality and her cheeks were touched with just the right amount of pink energy, that he thought she looked most beautiful. Of course, that's not to take away from all the other times he thought she was gorgeous… In an evening gown with her hair and make-up done just so… or in her running shorts and t-shirt with a sloppy ponytail bouncing crookedly atop her head… or squinting into a magnifier, wearing the blue lab coat that he used to hate, until he became jealous of it after watching her move and noticed the way it hugged her curves teasingly… Yeah, Booth thought to himself, she's beautiful no matter what she's doing… Like that time we were under my sink at home, fixing the broken pipe… And I could smell her perfume, and our lips were so very close…
"Booth?"
Her prod against his arm shook him from his reverie and he broadened his smile, unable to hide his appreciation for his partner. "Yeah, ok," he winked, feeling the flow of people streaming in around them. "C'mon," he tugged her again, forcing her to turn around, and he steered them on course once again. "Here," he pointed at two seats towards the center of the row, where they'd have a good view of the entire room. When they were seated, he eyed her and bumped his shoulder against hers. Leaning closer, he kept his voice low as he nodded in greeting at a small group of agents who moved into the seats in front of them. "If it's that important, I promise to put forth a better effort."
Smiling at her victory, she nodded once. "Thank you."
Before they could continue their conversation, Booth felt the heat of someone sit directly on his other side. Turning his attention away from his partner, he found Marcus and Reggie sitting in their row as well.
"Hey, man," Marcus smiled and then nodded to Brennan. "Good morning, Doc." Without seeing the insulted expression wash across Brennan's face at her shortened title, he looked back at Booth. "Sorry to see you guys fell so far in the rankings… That sucks, huh?"
The taunting grin told Booth that his pal was anything but sorry. Quickly remembering why he was less than sorry to lose Marcus as a partner, Booth cocked an eyebrow. "Enjoy your third place position while you have it, Gray." A confident smile overtook his features. "Bones and I'll be back on top before the end of the week," leaning back in his chair, he smirked. "And once we're back in first, looks like you'll be bumped off the list completely…"
Marcus chuckled. "Competitive much, Booth?" He folded his hands across his lap as he, too, leaned back in his seat. Thinking back, not for the first time since reuniting with Booth on Friday, Marcus wondered how his career might have been different if he had stayed in DC. When he left the Hoover, Gray was certain he was making the smarter move by going than Booth was for staying. Their short-lived partnership was strained and their friendship dynamic had resembled a roller coaster when still working together. Marcus found Booth to be too controlling and oftentimes arrogant, and the friction between the two made their working relationship more stressful than necessary. Of course, once the slightly younger man made his move, he found that he butted heads with almost every partner with whom he'd been assigned. He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at the success that Booth had seemingly fallen effortlessly into… He wondered if it was all a result of his partnership with Brennan, or if the AIC of Major Crimes really did shine so brightly on his own. He glimpsed at the man who was his first partner on the force, noting the confident expression on his face. "I see you haven't changed much, huh?"
"Hey," Booth shrugged one shoulder. "If it ain't broke… Don't fix it…." He grinned, having heard through the grapevine that Gray still felt a specific competitive streak against him, even though they no longer worked together. "Don't worry, we won't crush you guys too bad..."
He grunted in response, recognizing the unwavering confidence that he remembered from a decade earlier. Turning to face his own partner, Reggie, Marcus tilted his head towards Booth and Brennan. "I guess we better step up if we want to stay on top. Somethin' tells me these guys are gonna open up a can of whoop-ass, here, real soon..."
The slightly older man nodded, having met the legendary duo only briefly on that first evening at the bar. "Well, we'd best get serious, then, huh?" He tried to sound optimistic, knowing full well that they, like many other partners in attendance, had plenty of room to grow despite having worked together for nearly two years.
The noise in the room died down as Michael Mitchell stepped onto the raised platform at the head of the room. Although he was an older man, his presence was still quite imposing and it was obvious that he was ex-military. As Brennan silently observed the reverence and respect that the audience paid to the man her partner simply referred to as 'Mickey', she let her mind wander. Thinking back to just two days prior, she felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she remembered the way her comments to her partner's former Army-comrade could very easily have been misconstrued. Settling into her chair, she briefly looked at Booth, noting the smile ghosting his lips as his friend commanded the room with ease. Studying her partner's handsome profile, the scientist simply watched Booth while listening to Mickey deliver his opening comments. She mentally catalogued scars and skin imperfections that she'd been memorizing for years, but for most of which she didn't know the history. The tiny scar on his left temple, she knew was the result of one of his father's drunken rages… The evidence of stitches over his right eyebrow was compliments of a street hockey game played in as a youth in Philadelphia. But as the anthropologist's eyes skated over his masculine skin, she realized there was so much more she wanted to know about Booth… Things she intended to spend years learning, as long as he would let her…
Feeling an owley pair of eyes watching him, Booth slowly turned to look at his partner, catching her blues instantly. He didn't know what she was thinking, but when her cheeks grew pink and her soft lips curled into a gentle smile, his chest grew warm and his hands itched to touch her. Winking, he purposely broke the spell, knowing they needed to pay attention to Mickey's session.
"Folks, thank you for signing up for Overcoming Differences: Continuing to Grow a Successful Partnership. This session, in case you didn't read the summary, is geared towards partnerships that are established with at least 15 months of experience." Mickey took a few brief moments to study the attendees. When his eyes settled on the pair seated in the center of the very last row, he struggled to hide his grin. While everyone else seemed to be paying attention, or at least the bulk of them gave off a relatively convincing appearance of interest, the partners that held his brief scrutiny were focused solely on each other, before, through some silent conversation, their faces both swiveled back in his direction simultaneously. Continuing to move his eyes across the room, he sized up his audience, deciding on which of his two prepared lectures to deliver.
"As I'm sure you all have experienced at one time or another, perhaps even on multiple occasions, life can play terrible tricks on us. Fate can thrust two people together with complete disregard for their respective backgrounds or areas of expertise. You might struggle with finding your destiny, especially when faced with opposition and challenges day in and day out in the workplace …"
Involuntarily rolling her eyes, Brennan elbowed Booth in his ribs, getting his attention immediately. "Do all of you tough ex-Army-guys believe in such ideas as Fate and Destiny?" Her poorly whispered complaint reached the ears of those surrounding them, resulting in a collective chuckle erupting from the back of the room. Ignoring her compact audience, she leaned closer to her partner. "I was hoping his session would concentrate on topics of tangibility…."
Booth eyed her in disbelief. Closing into her personal space, he hissed at her interruption. "Shhh! Bones, stop. Just listen and behave, huh?" Sitting back into his seat again, he glared at a few agents nearby who were smirking at them before turning his attention back to Mickey. Despite the uninterrupted narrative, Booth was sure Mickey had heard the snickers from the back of the room. When he felt his partner's posture change, he knew she was about to find another fault with his friend's mention of 'trusting one's own instincts of inner-voices and so-called gut feelings.' His head whipped around and he pinned her with a hard stare. "Stop," he flared his fingers wide, keeping his hand low, behind the seats in front of them. "Pay attention."
With a slight pout, she crossed her arms across her chest and flopped back into her seat. With a mulish expression she eyed Booth sideways, unable to allow him to have the last word, she leaned towards him again and growled through clenched teeth. "Fine. But we are going to talk about this later!"
Rolling his own eyes, Booth looked at her. "Really? You wanna pick a fight with me over Mickey's lecture?" His whisper was harsh and he knew he needed to stop the conversation before it got out of hand, but he just couldn't believe his obstinate partner and her quirky habits of blaming him for other people's opinions. When he saw her take a breath he just held his hand up again. "You know what?" Once again, his whisper was more like a growl. "Fine. We'll talk about it later. Not. Now."
The scientist clamped her lips tight, breathing through flared nostrils. Nodding once, she cocked an eyebrow and turned back towards the front, refocusing her attention on the speaker. Suddenly aware that many pairs of eyes were on her and Booth, she moved her eyes around, finally settling on Mickey's impish grin at the front of the room. When she heard Booth groan and drop his head against the wall behind them, she knew he also realized they were disrupting the session.
Mickey cleared his throat, barely containing the humor he felt at his old friend's less-than-silent squabble. "Was there, uh, something you wanted to say, Booth?"
"No." There was no hesitation in the senior agent's response. Lifting his head upright, he was certain his cheeks were flaming red. "Nope, nothin'. Sorry."
"I have something to add," Brennan started to stand in place, only to be pulled back down to her seat.
"No ya don't, Bones." He grunted and tugged her hand. Raising his voice loud enough to reach Mickey, he shook his head. "Nope. We're good."
"Don't answer for me, Booth." She pulled her hand away and stood up quickly, so he couldn't stop her again. "Actually, there is something I'd like to say… I highly disagree with the notions of inner-voices or gut feelings. Isn't it irresponsible to instruct people to trust these phantom-instincts when clearly not everyone is born with such innate, unproven abilities? And," she plowed on without giving Mickey a chance to reply. "The ideas of Fate and Destiny are absolutely ludicrous." She shifted her weight and tilted her head to the side. "One's own success is based on the level of dedication and amount of energy he or she invests into his or her own profession."
"Oh my, God…" Booth dropped his head into his hands, groaning in embarrassment. "Please sit back down, Bones…." He felt his world crumbling down around him and all he wanted was for the earth to swallow him whole.
Turning her attention down to her partner, Brennan realized that she had, once again, let her emotions get the best of her and she was humiliating her partner. "Booth…"
"No, no," Mickey had walked halfway down the aisle, closing the distance between himself and the notorious partners. "Booth, it's OK. I'd like to hear what she has to say." Mickey was intrigued by Brennan's objections; it was so seldom that he received not only honest feedback, but a real challenge to his lectures. Shifting his attention to the anthropologist who was making her presence so well known, he extended his hand. "Please, Dr. Brennan, continue."
Postscript A/N
Oh boy…. Brennan's opening her mouth pre-maturely and poor Booth was definitely not prepared…
I know not much happened in this chapter, but it was a necessary stepping stone for the continuation of our little tale here…
I'm looking forward to hearing from you all :)
As we enter December, and approach the end of 2015, I want to wish a Happy Holiday Season to those of you who celebrate, whichever holiday you might observe. If you don't celebrate a holiday, then all the best for a healthy solstice and successful 2016. The beauty of a forum like fanfic, in my opinion, is its ability to bring together, people from all walks of life, from different corners of the earth, with a common interest, a similar appreciation for the artform of creative writing and character exploration… Amateur writers like myself thrive on the feedback we receive from readers like you and I want to express my most sincere appreciation for those of you who have taken the time throughout 2015 to let me know your thoughts; I may have stopped writing several times over if not for some of your kind and encouraging words.
Sending hugs and love your way.
peace, my friends,
~jazzy