Chapter 37: Read Between the Lines
He was honestly surprised that she'd limited her reaction to a glare and a slammed door; not that he didn't know he deserved a swift kick in the testicles for the way he'd treated her all afternoon. Cursing himself, and Peters, and the rage that was boiling so close to the surface once again, he peeled out of the Jeffersonian and into traffic, not caring who he was cutting off in the process.
Somehow he managed to make it to the Hoover in one piece, though his black mood didn't lift when he found his agents playing paper football in the bullpen. Five minutes later, they were sufficiently chagrined and hard at work tracking down leads for him.
"Well aren't you the benevolent dictator?" Caroline greeted him, standing up from her chair as he walked into his office.
"Did you need something from me, Caroline?" he asked, collapsing into his chair.
"I was going to congratulate you on weaseling out of your punishment, but I just might go back and tell Cullen to yank you off this case again."
The two glared at each other across the desk; neither budging.
"You look like somebody kicked your puppy," Caroline said finally. "Now, should we play Twenty Questions or are you going to act like an adult and tell me what's eatin' you?"
"It's me and Bones," he started, "well, mostly me," he fumbled for the right words, but they failed him.
"What? Did she fall in love with her new partner while you were gone?" the prosecutor goaded.
"No!" He shook his head, trying hard to hide a smirk at that thought, "Look, it's just…"
"Just what?"
"I don't want Cullen's job," he spat out finally, "It's way more admin and paperwork and-"
"People?" Caroline guessed when he stopped short.
"Yeah, them too," he nodded, "but mostly the other stuff. Is it so bad to want to be a career field agent?"
"Sounds like you think so," she shot back.
"Not me," Booth shook his head, "Peters."
"Huh," Caroline snorted, "Joel Peters only wishes he was half the agent you are!"
"Yeah, well, apparently he likes to spend his lunch breaks telling everyone what a loser I am for turning down promotions and sticking with Bones in the field," he groused.
"And this is where I get off this train because I am not your wife or your shrink," Caroline declared, standing up.
"Thanks a million."
She gave Booth one last glance, "Look, Cherie, you don't need me or anybody else telling you who you are or are not. So why don't you stop throwing yourself a pity party and do your job? That's what a real man would do anyway."
Before he could come up with a good retort, his cell rang and Caroline waved goodbye as she left.
"You want to tell me why I'm having to call and update you on Brennan's part of the case?" Cam didn't sound thrilled.
"Bones is mad at me," he winced.
"I figured that much out on my own and I'm going to guess from your tone that it wasn't her fault."
"Look, I'm not having the best of Mondays, okay?" he ran his free hand through his hair, "You need me to come over there?"
"Only if you wear your flack jacket," he heard her shake her head. "Whatever you did, Seeley, you need to make it right."
One of his agents knocked timidly on his door, holding a file and Booth waved him in, perusing it quickly while Cam proceeded to update him on the case from the lab's end.
"Cam, I've got stuff to go over with you guys too so I'll head over there now. Bye," he didn't wait for her to respond, but snapped the phone shut and got on his way.
"Good work," he said, stopping at the bullpen, "You guys can take off for the night."
He made eye contact with each one of them, apologizing silently for his earlier temper tantrum. None of them argued about getting off two hours early and there was a loud scuffle as they started gathering their things to leave. Satisfied that he'd set at least one thing right today, he palmed the dice in his pocket and took off for the parking garage.
From the minute he stepped through the automated double doors he knew he had his work cut out for him. The recycled air felt just a little cooler and he caught all of the stolen glances as he strode through the lab. Like kids, they might not know what was really going on but they knew Mom and Dad were fighting and were acting like they'd figured out it was his fault.
The senior squints on the platform were a different story. If the squinterns were like kids, the squints were like rabid in-laws. They most definitely knew exactly how he'd treated her and were ready to defend their-
"Oh, crap," he muttered out loud as he caught sight of his father-in-law standing on the platform too.
Cam, Angela, and even Hodgins to a lesser extent, were glaring at him; arms crossed, challenging him. Max, meanwhile, flashed him a feral grin, waving casually. The artificial light made something in Max's hand gleam just as Booth's sharp eyes caught the profile of Christopher Columbus on the coin. No further threat was necessary.
Hodgins' chin flicked up slightly and Booth tracked the bug man's gaze up to Bones' office just before he reached the platform. Booth gave a quick nod in thanks, changing direction before the rest of the squints could jump him or Max could go for his copper pipe.
He took a deep breath just outside her door and plunged in, "Bones, I'm sorry, you-" he realized they weren't alone, "-you called Sweets on me?"
The kid took one look at Booth's stunned face and shook his head, "I'm here at the behest of Agent Perotta. Is there something between you two we need to discuss?"
Bones said, "No," at the same time Booth said, "Nothing."
"Oh, come on guys," Sweets looked between the two of them before settling on Booth, "I know you didn't come here to see her for nothing."
"I thought he didn't want to see me until I came home," Bones shot before Booth could answer Sweets.
"Yeah, home," Booth stressed, "the place with no one to listen in on us." He glared at Sweets.
"The interior of your SUV was private enough and you said nothing then," she reminded him.
"We were on our way to a crime scene," he threw up his hands. "Not the time or place for that kind of conversation."
"If the two of you are having problems separating your personal and professional lives," Sweets butted in, "perhaps it would be good for you to develop some sort of catch phrase or gesture to convey your anger."
A smirk played at Booth's mouth and widened when he caught Bones' eye and knew she was thinking the same thing. They simultaneously flipped Sweets the bird.
"Nice," Sweets rolled his eyes, disgusted. "Very mature."
"Perhaps you would prefer I do this," Bones held up three fingers, "and told him to read between the lines?"
The delivery was so smooth and her timing so perfect, it left the two men staring slack-jawed at her. Booth was the first to recover, closing the distance between them.
"That's my girl," he declared, flinging his arm around her and grinning as she tried to duck away from his kiss.
"Seeley," she complained, batting at him.
He caught her hands easily in his, their gazes locking intensely, "I'm sorry, Temperance."
"We'll talk at home," she murmured, not sounding thrilled with him, but not wanting to drag the conversation out in front of Sweets either.
"Deal," he nodded, happy she was giving him that much, then turned to the shrink whose goofy grin lit up his face like a Christmas tree. "Show's over."
Booth grabbed Sweets by the tie and led the sputtering kid out of the room.
"Squints!" He called down to the group still huddled together on the platform, "Conference room in five."