(After 'The Change in the Game')

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Though Brennan and Booth hadn't told anyone their good news yet, there were some who were picking up an odd vibe from Booth. Harris had noticed that Booth couldn't seem to stop smiling and that was not normal by any stretch of the imagination. While he was in his office, the man was stern if not humorless. He took his job seriously and he expected everyone that worked for him to do the same.

While getting a cup of coffee from the break room, Harris found Booth there looking at the contents of the vending machine. Making a selection, Booth placed his money in the machine. When the bag of Doritos became stuck and refused to budge from its hanging position, the agent shrugged his shoulders and purchased a bag of Fritos instead. Dismayed, Harris watched his friend leave the room and head back to his office.

After Harris pounded on the machine and then shook it, the Doritos dropped, he retrieved the bag and left the break room with a cup of coffee. The bullpen was empty except for Lester who was looking over a case file that Harris had just closed. Determined to find out what was going on, Harris entered Booth's office, closed the door behind him then launched the bag of Doritos onto Booth's desk. "Alright, what's going on?"

Surprised, Booth picked up the bag and placed it in a desk drawer before looking at Harris. "What do you mean?" Wary of his friend, Booth opened his bag of Fritos and popped a couple in his mouth.

Determined to get to the bottom of what was going on, Harris sat down on the chair in front of Booth's desk and placed his cup of coffee on the edge of the desk. "You didn't beat the hell out of the machine to get your chips. You didn't insult the machine you just bought a bag of Fritos. What's going on?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth reached for his cup of coffee and sipped some of the drink before placing the cup back down. "Nothing's going on."

"Bullshit." Harris wasn't leaving until he found out why Booth was so cheerful. "You're normally incapable of leaving a bag of chips just dangling after you paid for them. No way and yet you did just that a few minutes ago. Are you sick? Well you're smiling too much so that's not it. Did you get a raise or a promotion I don't know about?"

Irritated, Booth's smile faded away. "I'm not smiling too much. What's wrong with you? Can't a guy be happy around here? I'm just happy. No promotion and no raise. I'm just my normal happy self."

His eyes hooded, Harris stared at Booth for a few minutes and finally shook his head. "I'm going to figure it out so you might as well tell me."

"I'm happy, that's what's going on." Pointing at the bullpen, Booth tried to get his friend to leave and spied Sweets heading towards his office. "Shit! Don't say anything about me being happy. Sweets will try to shrink me and I'm not in the mood."

Since Sweets' attitude would just make Booth more secretive, Harris nodded his head and waited to see what the psychologist wanted.

He immediately noticed that Booth wasn't alone, but Sweets decided that the agent might be more open in front of his friend when they talked. "Booth, hey, I thought I'd check in and see how you're doing."

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" Wary of his young friend, Booth popped more Fritos in his mouth and chewed them slowly, his eyes on the younger man.

"Um, well, you and Dr. Brennan had a rough time recently when Mr. Nigel-Murray was killed." Sweets sat on the chair by the door and tried to look relaxed. "We all know that bullet was meant for you. Then you had to arrest your former comrade in arms, Jacob Brodsky. He shot one of your agents while you were trying to arrest him. It's a lot to deal with."

He knew Sweets meant well, but Booth hated to be psychoanalyzed. He didn't like it at all. "The bullet may have been for me, but it didn't hit me. It's not like I haven't been targeted before. Hell, I have scars that say otherwise. As for Brodsky being my friend, that ended when he started murdering people and trying to kill me was the final straw when it came to our friendship. If you'll turn around, you'll see that Lester is fine. I don't have any issues with the things that happened. I'm fine and so is Bones."

"Uh huh, I heard that Dr. Brennan went to the intern's funeral and she seemed depressed when she got back." Sweets could see the anger building in Booth, but he plowed ahead anyway. "If she needs to talk to someone, I'm available or we can have a little group session with you or not . . . maybe the people at the Lab would like a session since Mr. Nigel-Murray was killed in the middle of the Lab. Either way, I'm here to help."

His first inclination was to tell Sweets off, but he knew the boy really did want to help and that was a good thing, wasn't it? "Look, Bones is fine now. She took it hard, but she's moved on . . . you might want to tell Daisy to stop gossiping about Bones. If she finds out about it, I'm pretty sure Daisy won't like what happens next."

"Daisy didn't tell me anything." He saw the look of disbelief on Booth's face and he knew he'd made a mistake talking about Brennan's depression. "She's just worried about Dr. Brennan. You know that Daisy really admires her and wants what's best for her . . . but I'll tell her what you said." Standing Sweets smiled at the agent. "The offer is sincere Booth. If you or Dr. Brennan need to talk about anything let me know. I'm here for you and for her."

"Thanks, but we don't need any shrinky help. We're good. We're better than good." Booth saw the look of curiosity on Sweets' face and he knew he'd said too much. "Bye, Sweets."

Once the younger man was gone, Harris smiled at his friend. "Now I know something's up. You didn't even try to rip him a new one or throw him out of here. Something is up and I'm going to find out what it is."

"Don't you have work to do? I can find something for you to do if you don't have anything." His irritation back, Booth frowned at his friend. "I'm happy because things have calmed down. Brodsky is in prison and I don't have to worry about him anymore. Life is good now and I have a right to be happy, don't I?"

"You do." Harris stood up and walked over to the door. "I'm glad you're happy Booth. Whatever is making you happy, I hope it lasts."

His smile back, Booth pulled a few Fritos from the bag. "Thanks, now stop bugging me." Popping the chips into his mouth, he watched Harris leave the office. Once he was alone, Booth set the bag down and sipped some of his coffee. "There are too many nosy people around here. That's for damn sure."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

A case cropped up and Booth jumped at the chance to take it. Once he and Brennan were in the SUV, he headed for the crime scene. "Harris has been bugging me because he thinks I'm too happy. What kind of deal is that? I'm always happy."

Amused, Brennan turned to look at her mate. "You don't usually smile at work, at least not too much. You always tell me that murder is serious business and you don't like anyone laughing or joking around at crime scenes."

"It is serious business, but I was smiling in my office." Booth shook his head. "You still don't want to tell anyone for three months?" He didn't think they could hide her pregnancy that long. "I really think we should tell Pops before that. He won't appreciate the secret. He might feel hurt."

"Well, we can tell Hank, but no one else." Brennan decided to change the subject. "So, the Cumberland County Sheriff said he thought it was an escaped prisoner from Piedmont Regional Jail?"

After passing a slow moving travel trailer, Booth answered. "Yeah, they keep some Federal prisoners there. It's a minimum to high security prison. Eric Sanders escaped last Wednesday and his body was found today. He's been missing for about six days and a birdwatcher found the body this morning. Sanders didn't make it very far. His body was found northwest of the jail in some woods. We're supposed to meet the Sheriff at the junction of 668 and 637 and he'll take us to the body."

"Alright." Brennan lifted a folder from the console and flipped it open. "I see he was in prison for kidnapping a young boy . . . The boy was the son of a cousin. He claimed the boy was being abused, but the boy denied it and so did the rest of the family . . . He's been a model prisoner. He was serving a 17 year prison sentence. Did the Sheriff say how he escaped.?"

"Nah, the warden didn't tell him. He might not know yet, although they better find out before someone else uses the same method." Booth passed a tractor hauling a wagon filled with hay. "Since he's a federal prisoner, Sheriff White decided to give the case to us. At least it's not raining."

He decided to tell her about Sweets. "Sweets wants to have a session with you or us, if you want it."

"No . . . why?" The last thing Brennan wanted was for Sweets to get her in a room and interrogate her about her feelings.

"He's worried that you might be depressed or something." Booth saw the frown and he knew she wouldn't go unless forced to and he wasn't going to do that. "I told him no. I think you're doing okay . . . we're doing okay."

The folder back in the console, Brennan watched the scenery from the passenger window. "I was sad about Vincent's death, I still am, but I have moved on. Life must move forward. We're going to have a baby and I must dwell upon the positive things that are about to happen, not the bad things that have happened in the past."

"I'm with you, Bones. The past is the past." Booth hated to think about the past. He believed it was better to live in the moment and not let the bad things done in the past ruin the present or the future. "You know you can always talk to me. I'm a pretty good listener."

"And you can talk to me too." Brennan thought they were fine and they didn't need to be poked and prodded by a psychologist. "I am fine Booth."

Booth could see that and was grateful that Brennan was so resilient. "Yeah, you are fine, Bones."

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