This is a reminder that this story is AU and takes place after "The Beginning in the End".

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooo

A little hesitant, Clark finally knocked on the door frame of Booth's office and waited for the man inside to look up.

Observing a nervous Clark standing in his doorway, Booth motioned for the man to enter the room. "What can I do for you Dr. Edison?"

Quickly stepping into the room, Clark cleared his throat. "I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute Agent Booth."

Pointing towards his chair, Booth frowned at the doctor. "It's not Agent anymore. Booth is fine."

Unable to control his nervousness, Clark licked his lips. "Oh yeah, sorry." Once he was settled on the chair, Clark explained why he was there. "I was at a crime scene this morning and . . . well . . . I don't think I like the agent I'm working with. He's . . . well, he's . . . "

"Disrespectful?" Uncertain, Booth tried to help Clark.

Shaking his head, Clark corrected Booth. "No, that's not it . . . Agent Blake is reckless."

Surprised, Booth leaned forward and placed his clasped hands on the top of his desk. "What do you mean reckless?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Clark knew he'd better make himself clear as he could be. "This morning, Agent Blake wanted me to go with him to interview a suspect. I didn't have a problem with that at all. I understand he wanted me to observe the suspect and use my knowledge of anthropology to see if the suspect was a viable suspect. I know Dr. Brennan has done that in the past with you and I am perfectly capable of doing that too . . . The problem this morning was, the suspect is a member of a biker gang and Agent Blake wanted to interview the man where he worked which is a biker bar. Agent Blake should have had more backup than me since I'm not an agent and I don't carry a gun. I thought he needlessly endangered his life as well as my own."

A little alarmed, Booth asked, "Are you sure he didn't have backup?"

Grimly, Clark nodded his head. "Oh yeah. When we walked into that bar, the suspect was behind the bar. Agent Blake flashed his ID and asked to speak to the suspect. The suspect, James Kittle took off through a back door. When Agent Blake went to chase him, four thugs pulled guns on us and dared us to move. Agent Blake was pissed and threatened them, but they weren't impressed. After a few minutes, they left the bar and then we left. I'm not too crazy about people pointing guns at me, Booth, not at all."

Angry that Blake had been so foolish, Booth assured Clark. "I'll take care of this, Dr. Edison. You were right to tell me about it."

Standing, Clark crossed his arms against his chest. "I'm not an agent and I don't know which end of a gun to shoot. Agent Blake shouldn't count on me as his backup. I'm a trained anthropologist. I'm not afraid of the job, but I either need to be trained in weapons use and how to protect myself or Agent Blake needs to stop putting us in situations like he did this morning. If you want me to learn how to use a gun then I'm willing to learn, but I need to be trained properly before Agent Blake puts us into situations that are dangerous."

Booth knew Clark was right and he felt embarrassed that the man had been treated like that. "If you'd like to learn how use a gun then I'd be willing to teach you how to use one properly. Considering some of the stories I've heard Bones tell me about things that have happened at digs, it might be a good idea for you know how to use weapons and you probably should consider taking a course in self defense too."

Pleased that Booth was willing to train him, Clark smiled. "I think I would like you to teach me . . . thanks. As for the self-defense courses, I've thought about those before. I might sign up for a class and see if that's right for me. I have a mean right hook so I probably could take care of myself in a fair fight."

Shaking his head, Booth advised Clark, "Most fights aren't fair when it comes to the real world, believe me . . . I'll talk to Agent Harris about Agent Blake. Let me see what kind of a schedule I have next week. I'll set up some classes in gun safety and we'll go from there."

Pleased, Clark lowered his arms to his side. "Thank you. I'm glad you understand."

"Oh, I understand." Booth glanced at the paperwork in his desk and realized that he needed to make a few phone calls. "Don't worry about Blake. I'll get that straightened out this afternoon."

Ooooooooooooooooooo

After he found an open parking space, Booth parked his truck in the parking garage, exited his vehicle and made his way to the lobby of the Hoover. Waiting near the front desk, Booth watched several agents he knew pass by. Exchanging pleasantries Booth finally saw Agent Harris exit the elevator.

Smiling, Harris arrived next to Booth and slapped him on the back. "I knew you'd miss me and you'd have to come see me."

Amused, Booth laughed and shook his head. "Get over yourself."

Grabbing Booth's arm, Harris dragged him to the exit. "Come on, it's lunch time and I'm hungry. You can tell me whatever you want to get all pissy about while we eat."

With no choice in the matter, Booth followed the man out of the Lobby. "How do you know I want to get pissy about something?"

Snorting, Harris exited the building with Booth on his heels. "Please . . . I heard about what happened this morning. I expected a phone call though, not a personal visit. Since it is a personal visit that means you want to get all pissy about it and if I have to hear it then you can buy me lunch."

Booth stopped in his tracks and protested. "Hey you should by me lunch."

Sneering at Booth, Harris placed his hands on his hips. "Ha, you make triple what I make now. You're buying lunch you damn cheapskate."

Irritated, Booth pointed at the bistro down the street. "Fine, I'm buying, but I'm not a cheapskate. I just know where money comes from and I am the injured pary . . . well Clark is."

Oooooooooooooooooo

Entering their apartment, Brennan heard Booth in the dinning room. Happy to be home, Brennan crossed the room, placed her purse and jacket on the couch and then entered the dining room where her husband was waiting for her. Placing her arms around his chest, she kissed him.

Glad to see her, Booth returned her kiss. "You hungry? I have dinner ready."

Nodding her head, Brennan kissed him once more and stepped out of his embrace. "Let me go change. I'll only be ready a few minutes."

After she left the dinning room, Booth entered the kitchen, fixed two plates of food and carried them out to the table. Sitting down, he opened a bottle of wine, poured two glasses half full and carefully placed one of the glasses next to Brennan's waiting plate.

Soon, Brennan re-entered the room and sat down across from Booth. "This is very nice. Thank you."

Picking up his glass, Booth sipped the wine and then placed the glass down. "Did you finish up your Metro case?"

Brennan picked up her fork and stared at the delicious food waiting for her. "Yes, Cam released the body to the family this afternoon." Watching Booth eat, Brennan broached a topic on her mind. "I received a call from Dr. Aaron Arsenault about a dig he'd like to do at Fort Beausejour in New Brunswick this summer. He's actually interested in Joseph Beausoleil Broussard and the Father Le Loutre's War. It's a very interesting time period in Canadian history."

Surprised, Booth nodded his head. "Do you want to be part of the dig?"

After sipping some of her wine, Brennan scooped up some of the buttered squash on her fork. "Yes, I would. He doesn't plan to be there for more than two months. He's limited to where he can do his dig, but he's received permission and I think it might be quite fascinating."

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth fiddled with his fork. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Brennan placed her hand over his hand and nodded her head. "Yes."

Pleased to be part of her world, Booth smiled. "I'd be happy to go with you Bones. It would be pretty cool to see what you do at digs . . . It's just, are you sure you really want me to come with you? Canada isn't exactly a hotbed of revolution. You'd be safe as houses there."

Cautiously, Brennan asked him, "Are you saying that you don't want to come with me?"

Lacing his fingers with hers, Booth shook his head. "No that's not what I'm saying, Bones. Of course I want to come with you. I'm just saying that Canada is pretty safe so if you think you have to take me then I want you to understand that you don't."

Not sure if he really wanted to come or not, Brennan rubbed the end of her nose while she stared at her husband. "I want you to come with me."

Raising their combined hands, Booth kissed her fingers. "Then I'm coming with you."

Ooooooooooooooooooo

Reviews would be pretty cool. Thank you.

A/N: I'm a descendant of Joseph Beausoleil Broussard, the Rebel. He was born in Port Royal, Nova Scotia in 1702 and died in Louisiana in 1765.