For once, Booth was glad that bones pulled out her case files and reviewed them in silence on their way to her apartment. Maybe she sensed that he needed time to sort out their conversation from earlier.
Of all the people that he worked with, he would have pegged Angela to call him on how private a man he truly was. He certainly never would have thought that his partner would- and he definitely had not been expecting such a probing speech from her. How long had she seen through him? Weeks? Months? Years?
The only way he could find out, unfortunately for him, would be to reopen her line of questioning. This was something he was not sure he was ready to share; even with her. There were family secrets that lay deeply buried and to include her in it would only add more burdens to her already heavy load.
From the time he could remember his father had come home from work, greeted his wife and children, and been plastered before the evening news. Some nights he would drink at home, other nights he would load his boys into the back of the car and drink with his friends. Booth could remember his mom always begging with his dad to leave them at home, but he never listened. Or if he did, he ignored her.
Seeley and Jared would be left in the car most nights when they were taken out, to fall asleep on the backseat until their father was done and drove them back home. Booth distinctly remembered asking his dad once why they were brought along if they were just going to sit in the car all night. He was backhanded harshly for his trouble and told to be glad for the time his father spent with him.
The problem of it all was that Frank Booth had the same charm and natural charisma that Bones had accused him of- which meant that no one at Mass or in any other "good" company knew how heavily he drank. He would drive miles out of town to buy his liquor and his favorite bar was an hour from the Booth household. And since he was always sober by the time his first customer came for a haircut in the morning, no one suspected a thing. During the holidays he would restrain himself, so that none of the other family members knew anything either.
Booth remembered reading in college that some drunks were quiet while others were violent. Frank was a violent one, though his oldest son was the one who stepped in and received the brunt of the attacks. "Eat the wall" was the usual punishment for anything that upset the elder Booth. To this day, Seeley could recall how his father would pick him up and slam him as hard as he could against the nearest wall- sometimes more than once.
The last time he had done it, Seeley had been sixteen and before Frank could grab his son, Seeley grabbed him, hard enough to make the older man stop. Seeley had let his father know in no uncertain terms that the next time Frank touched any of them- including his mother- he would be the one eating the wall. To Seeley's knowledge, his father had never hit anyone again- especially once Seeley joined the Rangers, making sure that his father knew how well he had done in his sniper and unarmed combat training. He and Jared and Lizzy had made an unspoken pact; they would deal with their father's problem as a family, but they would not discuss it with anyone- not even amongst themselves.
The Rangers had done him good. He had learned to discipline himself and channel his aggressions on catching and killing the bad guys. The protectiveness that he had always had for his family he transferred to the men and women he served with and he felt as if he fit in well among them. He had excelled there, had come back after choosing not to re-enlist and gone to college, then on to the FBI Academy.
Now he was a special agent, paired with one of the most brilliant scientist in the world. Together they had one of the highest conviction rates in the US of any FBI team. He had a son who loved him and looked up to him like no one else ever had and he was in love with a woman who loved him in return.
Yes, he thought to himself, he had finally become the successful man that his father told him he never would be.
"Are you alright, Seeley?" her touch on his arm alerted him to the fact that they were at her apartment, sitting in the parking lot.
"I'm good, Bones," he smiled genuinely at her, "Really."
She nodded and they got out, heading up to her apartment.
"Want me to help you get dressed?" he asked when they were inside.
"Tempting," she told him, "But, as you have pointed out numerous times now, I do need to get food and we should go since you told Cam that's what we'd be doing."
"And your point is?"
She smiled and waved to him over her shoulder before walking down the hallway and closing her bedroom door.
"You're no fun, Bones," he called back to her.
He heard her laughing, but she didn't say anything. Getting a drink of water from the fridge he wondered around her living room. She might have gotten a TV, but the majority of the room was full of books. Most of them he had never heard of, though there were a few classics he remembered reading in high school and college.
One shelf was entirely comprised of photographs and knick-knacks. There were a few pictures of her and her family from years ago- when everything was still right in her world. There was another, more recent one of her and Russ and Max taken in the conjugal trailer last Christmas. He smiled, seeing his tree through the window of the trailer and remembering how she had told him that she had loved it.
Max was a man Booth had come to admire over time, and as much as he liked seeing justice served he was glad for Bones' sake that her father had not gone to the electric chair. His fingers brushed the glass dolphin that Max had left for her on one of his visits. Yes, he was happy that she had a chance to redeem her relationship with her father.
There were also pictures of their friends on her shelf. One was from the work Christmas party, in another she and Angela stood side-by-side grinning into the camera. Separate from these was a picture of the two of them, taken at one of the Jeffersonian's functions that they had invited him to. He could see why she had kept the picture. They were both smiling, facing each other and oblivious to whomever was taking the picture. She was beautiful in a strapless, dark blue gown that fell to the floor and he was in a tux that he had rented for the night.
"That was published in one of our company newsletters," she said, coming up behind him and slipping her hand around his waist, "I tracked down the photographer and got the original. I can make a copy for you if you would like."
He put his arm around her and smiled, "Naw, that's okay, Bones. I'll enjoy your copy for now. Besides," he pointed at it, "I don't have the brave sentinels that you do to guard the frame."
She blushed.
On one side of the frame stood Brainy Smurf, while on the other, Jasper the pig had been placed. He took great pride in the fact that she displayed his gifts so publicly and beside such a nice picture of the two of them.
"Hey, Temperance," he said softly, turning meet her eyes, "Why don't you pack one of those duffle bags of yours tonight just in case?"
"Just in case what?" she asked naively.
He waggled his eyebrows and leered at her with his eyes.
"Oooh," she said, catching on, "You mean that you wish for me to go home with you again tonight and possibly-"
"Talk," he interrupted her, "We have a lot to talk about. Some things I want you to know."
"Truly?" she seemed surprised, "Please don't feel as if I have obligated you to share intimate details about your personal life with me if you are not comfortable with that. As I said, I'm not sure how much of my own family history I had shared had it not been forced upon us as it was."
"Temperance," he drew her close to him, "My dear Bones, I've shared my body with you, I want to share my life with you as well."
She nodded, kissing him lightly on the lips before returning down the hall to pack her bag.
"Here," she returned a few minutes later, tossing him her duffle bag, "I packed a few days' worth. Just in case."
He grinned widely at her turning his words on him, thinking that she had come far in four years. He did find it strange though that she gave him her bag to carry; until he turned around to find her with an armload of empty bags.
"What in the world are those for?" he asked.
"Shopping," she said as if he should have known, "They're eco-friendly bags so that the store does not use so many plastic ones. I usually only need two of them, but I haven't been for a bit so I'll take four."
"Will that be enough?" he asked, thinking of the dozens of plastic bags he always ended up with no matter how many groceries he bought.
"Oh yes," she nodded, heading for the door, "They are quite efficient."
He shrugged, taking her word for it and they headed out.
Once they were in the car, she directed him to the whole foods market that she always shopped at. She also said that she normally went to one of the local farmers' markets, but they could go there later.
Booth was shocked and slightly appalled by what he saw. He was shocked because the food looked great and smelled fresher than anything he had seen at his grocery store. Each product gave information about where it was grown and if anything had been added to or taken away from it. He was appalled because she ended up with basically the same amount of food that he did and paid twice as much.
"Good thing those books of yours sell well," he joked as they each carried two bags out to the SUV, "Healthy eating costs a mini fortune!"
She shrugged, "I was more than able to afford it when I only had my salary from the Jeffersonian. And it is more than worth the cost to me to know exactly what is in the food I eat."
He laughed, putting his bags into the trunk and reaching to take hers, "This from the woman who eats massive amounts of take-out for weeks at a time."
"I told you that I purchase very healthy foods when I have the time."
"I still can't believe you don't eat red meat," he started the car and aimed them back toward her apartment, "Don't you miss biting into a rich, juicy steak?"
"Sometimes," she admitted, "Though then I remind myself how the meat is harvested and I lose all interest."
"I'd ask, but I'm not sure I want to know."
"It's barbaric in some instances," she informed him, "I do still eat chicken, however."
"Not that I saw," he gestured to the bags in the back.
"I get them at the farmers' market that I told you about," she said, "I know Mr. Zimmerman, one of the farmers, very well and he does not mistreat his animals. He even allows customers to tour his farm if they wish."
"I'm sure you jumped at that."
"Oh yes," she completely missed his sarcasm, "It was fascinating and I have never felt guilty buying products from him since then. You should buy some of his eggs for your world-famous Seeley Booth omelet sometime. I'm sure they would enhance the flavor tremendously."
"That good, huh?"
"Yes."
They were back at her apartment and had the groceries up and unloaded in no time. He was happy to see that it was only ten, so they had plenty of time to make it back to the lab by noon.
"We'll need to stop for lunch at some point today too," he said as they climbed back into the SUV and headed off.
"We can eat at the market. There are plenty of stands that sell sandwiches and different meats. Mr. Zimmerman even uses his own poultry to make fried dishes such as hot wings and chicken fingers, as well as rotisserie chicken."
"Doesn't sound too bad."
"It's quite delicious," she assured him, "I nearly always eat a meal when I shop there. And the homemade pastries are scrumptious as well."
"Those from Mr. Zimmerman too?" he asked, pulling into the parking lot that she was pointing at.
The spaces were narrow and almost all filled and he wished, not for the first time, that the FBI would give him something with a better turning radius.
"No," she shook her head as they headed across the parking lot, "Those are from Mrs. Fields. She makes very good cookies as well."
"Yeah, I've heard that," he chuckled.
"You've heard of her?" she sounded impressed.
"There's a national chain store that sells cookies called Mrs. Field's," he explained, holding the door open for her as they entered the market.
Her lips formed in the shape of an "o" and she smiled back at him.
Booth was much more impressed with the farmers' market than he had been with the whole foods one. For one thing, he could tell that these were hard-working people, who enjoyed making a living off of the land and he could respect that. For another thing, their prices were reasonable and sometimes cost less then what he knew he paid. More than anything, he was impressed with the effect the market had on Bones.
From the moment they walked through the doors, she was smiling and waving at people. At each vendor that they stopped at she would stay and chat with them, catching up on local events or on what was going on in each person's family. Apparently she had taken Max here as well because a few of the vendors asked how he was and encouraged her to bring him by soon.
They stopped by Mrs. Fields' pastry stand and purchased two of the largest cinnamon rolls that Booth had ever seen. They were coated in caramel and topped with walnuts. Mrs. Fields, who was probably no less than seventy, warmed the rolls up in a microwave for them, placed them on ceramic plates, and provided two forks. He thanked her and she smiled warmly at him and told him to come again sometime.
After eating theirs rolls- which were incredibly delicious- they headed for what Bones promised was the last stand.
"Temperance," a jolly man who reminded Booth of Santa Claus came out from behind the stand and gave the scientist a bone-jarring hug, "You haven't been around in a while. Are you on a big case?"
She smiled, returning the hug, and nodded.
The man turned to address Booth and smiled, "I always tell this one that I can tell when she's on a case because she doesn't come in and when she does, she's five pounds lighter."
Booth laughed, taking a liking to the man instantly, and extended his hand, "I'm Seeley Booth, her feeder when she's on a big case."
"Hiram Zimmerman," the man wrapped his beefy paw around Booth's hand and gave him a firm shake, "Good to see she has someone to look out for her out there in the big world. I expect your intentions are honorable with our girl, here?"
Bones made a choking sound, but Booth took it in stride, "Yes, sir, they are."
"Very good, Seeley, very good!" he slapped Booth on the back so hard Booth had to fight not to wince, "We're very fond of your girl here."
"So am I," Booth wrapped an arm around her waist, ignoring her glare.
"How did you meet?" the man moved behind the counter and began wrapping up parcels of meat into butcher paper.
"This is Special Agent Booth," Brennan cut in, "My partner at the FBI."
"Ah," understanding dawned on the man's face and his grin grew wider, "So you did decide to give him a shot after all!"
Booth cocked an eyebrow, first at Hiram Zimmerman, and then at his partner.
"Oh," the older man said, "She would come in jabbering on and on about 'Booth did this' or 'Booth told me that.' But every time I would ask if you two were together yet she'd swear that you were just partners.
"I told her," he winked at Booth, "That that was how me and Mrs. Zimmerman started out too. We'll be married forty years next May and I've never been happier. Temperance," he looked at her, handing her a stack of chicken neatly packaged along with a carton of eggs, "You let your young man take care of you when you forget to eat. And hold onto him- men like Agent Booth here don't come around every day."
She nodded, blushing, and became very involved with packing her items neatly into one of the bags they had brought with them.
"Mr. Booth," the man came around once more and offered his hand, "You take care of our girl. She's one in a million!"
"I know, sir," he said sincerely, "And I will."
"I believe you mean that, son," the men shook hands in parting, "Now, Temperance you bring young man back more often now that you two aren't just partners anymore, you hear? And bring that scoundrel of a father with you too. I'm going to beat that man at chess one of these days."
Bones nodded and smiled, "I will, Mr. Zimmerman. Good bye."
"Good bye," the man gave her a quick hug and moved back behind his stand, calling out to another customer who was headed his way.
Booth and Bones carried her bags to where a small collection of tables were located and took turns guarding the bags and getting food. They both ate light as they were still a bit full from the cinnamon rolls, but Booth was savoring every minute he spent with her.