A/N: Probably nobody even watches Bones anymore, but I've been obsessed with the show (more specifically, Lance Sweets) lately. I actually really like Booth and Brennan as a couple, but I think fanfiction is more fun/challenging to write when it's about non-canon pairings- if I want to see Booth and Brennan together, I can just watch the show! This isn't really supposed to be set anywhere specific during the show, just before Booth and Brennan get together, I guess. I don't think there are any major spoilers in here, but I have seen the whole series, so there might be some little things. Please review if anyone is actually reading this! It might motivate me to actually finish this. Thanks for reading :)
The bright afternoon sun poured in through the window, warming the office. Lance Sweets was chewing on his pen absentmindedly, trying to complete his notes on the profile Booth had assigned him that morning. The proverbial lightbulb went off, and Sweets started scribbling frantically, when the door swung open and a distraught-looking Agent Booth burst in, plopping down on the therapy couch and looking up at Sweets expectantly.
"Um, hi Agent Booth," a perplexed Sweets greeted him. He was pretty sure he hadn't forgotten about any sessions or meetings, but the look on Booth's face made him cap his pen and join Booth, sitting tentatively in an armchair across from Booth. "What can I do for you?"
After several minutes of Booth fidgeting nervously but not saying anything, Sweets tried again. "I'm, uh, still working on the profile you sent me. I should have it to you by the end of the work day today."
"I'm not here about the profile," Booth said quietly, as if he didn't quite trust his voice.
"Oh… Okay."
"I really need to talk about something. It's eating me up, Sweets. But you gotta promise me two things." Sweets studied Booth's face- the dark circles under his eyes, the clear distress in his expression, the ever so slight desperation in his usually warm brown eyes. He wasn't kidding; something definitely was eating him up.
"Sure, of course," Sweets promised without knowing exactly what he was agreeing to.
"You can't tell anybody. Ever. And you can't ask any questions about what I tell you," Booth commanded.
"Uh… well, you know that as long as you aren't a danger to yourself or others, confidentiality is always my first priority. But asking questions is sort of a psychologist's bread and butter. So… I'm just not really sure how much I can help if I can't do that. I mean, I can always listen, of course, but I-"
"Okay, you can ask questions, you just can't ask who, okay?" Booth ground out, cutting Sweets off as he started rambling. This conversation was getting weirder by the minute, but Sweets could tell how much Booth needed him to listen right now, so he just nodded and made a go ahead gesture.
"Whew, okay, I guess I'm just gonna cut to the chase here," Booth said, blowing out a breath anxiously, "I, uh, I think I might be falling for… someone. A coworker." He said the last part very fast, but Sweets was used to Booth's way of admitting things, so he didn't have a problem understanding.
"Um, okay, okay, let's definitely talk about this. But first, I gotta ask: why now?" Sweets tried to sound as sincere as possible, even though he was inwardly rolling his eyes at Booth for making such a big deal out of his feelings for his partner, which he knew Sweets already knew about, "I mean, this isn't exactly news, is it? You and Brennan have been dancing around each other for-"
"It's not Bones," Booth snapped, cutting Sweets off again, "How many times do we have to tell you? We aren't in love, Sweets!"
"Okay, my bad, I'm sorry," Sweets said, trying to curb Booth's frustration as quickly as possible, "So, uh, you're falling for another coworker, not Dr. Brennan, somebody else at the Jeffersonian or the FBI. So, how did you first start noticing your feelings for this coworker?"
"I don't know, exactly," Booth said slowly, visibly calmer now that Sweets had stopped trying to guess at the identity of the coworker in question, "I guess we started working more cases together, spending more time at work together, you know? Kind of got to be friends, I think. But then I started having these dreams…"
"What kind of dreams?" Sweets asked as Booth trailed off. Booth glared at him.
"Jeez, Sweets, don't make me give you a play-by-play, alright? You know what kind of dreams I'm talking about." Sweets blushed but gestured for Booth to keep talking.
"Right, okay, where was I? So I started having dreams, which by itself isn't a big deal, right? Because maybe that means I just found this coworker attractive, nothing else. But then I just started thinking about what a great person they are, and then the dreams changed to be like, relationship-y stuff. Like making breakfast together, dancing together, taking care of Parker together. And then, I started thinking about that stuff while I was awake, too. And, next thing I know, I'm oggling them at work, I'm fantasizing about them while I'm at the office, making up reasons to see them. It's driving me crazy, Sweets, I can't stop thinking about him-" Booth stopped short, immediately realizing his mistake. Sweets's eyes widened.
"So the problem isn't really that he's a coworker, is it? The problem is that he's a man?" Sweets clarified.
"Uh…" Was Booth's only answer.
"Okay, well, have you ever had these kinds of thoughts about any other men before? Or is this totally new?" Sweets asked.
"You know what, thanks for trying, Sweets, but this was a bad idea. I gotta go," Booth said quickly, getting up to leave.
"No, Booth, please don't leave!" Sweets exclaimed, jumping up as if he could physically stop Booth from leaving, "I really am trying to help here. I swear, there's no way I could judge you for this." Booth silently acquiesced, and both men returned to their seats.
"I… uh… what did you ask me?" Booth asked awkwardly. Sweets smiled gently and repeated his question.
"Sort of," Booth sighed, "I've definitely thought about a few men, uh… you know, sexually, before." He cringed at the awkwardness of the statement, and Sweets took it as a sign of just how desperate Booth was to get this off his chest that he kept talking. "But, I've never acted on it. Never even considered it, really. I kind of just… said my Hail Marys and squashed the feelings down."
"So what's different now?" Sweets asked. Booth groaned- boy, oh boy, was Sweets asking the hard questions.
"What's different? Oh, jeez. What's different, Sweets, is that he's not just hot, he's perfect. He's thoughtful, and brilliant, and funny. He's just the right amount of geeky and goofy to balance me out. He's exactly who I always imagined as my… life partner?" Booth ended the statement awkwardly, not quite ready to use the word "boyfriend." Sweets was floored. He had never heard Booth talk about somebody this way. Brilliant… geeky and goofy… So it was probably someone at the Jeffersonian, and Sweets didn't think Booth would really go for an intern…
"Is it Hodgins?" Sweets word-vomited without really meaning to.
"Hodgins?! Jeez, no, don't be gross, Sweets!" Booth exclaimed, his face going red, "And I thought you promised not to ask who it was!"
"Right, sorry," Sweets said sheepishly, "It just sort of popped out." Booth rolled his eyes, and Sweets slipped back into shrink-mode. "Okay, well you clearly feel you need to do something about these feelings, maybe even tell him how you feel. Otherwise, you would be saying your Hail Marys and squashing your feelings down, instead of sitting here, clearly uncomfortable, talking all of this out with me."
"Yeah, I think you're right," Booth admitted, "I tried to ignore it. I said a lot of Hail Marys- several Rosaries worth- but I just can't make these feelings go away this time. But it's scary, you know? What if I tell him and he hates me? What if I tell him and God hates me?"
"God does not hate you for liking a man, Booth, and any man who would doesn't deserve you- as a friend or a lover," Sweets said vehemently. Booth's eyebrows shot up at the word "lover," but otherwise, he didn't react.
"I know," Booth said, with a hint of defeat, "I've spent a lot of time thinking about it. It's hard to go against the things I've been taught since I was a kid, but I think I've decided that I don't have to agree with everything the Catholic church preaches to be a good man." Sweets smiled, and Booth added, "It might be a while before I go back to Confession, though."
"So, this man, this coworker- do you know if he even likes men?" Sweets asked, satisfied that Booth had at least started to sort out his religion issues on his own.
"I'm not sure," Booth answered dejectedly, "I've only ever seen him date women, but we don't really talk about stuff like that or see each other outside of work much. Plus, I know I'm kind of a macho, Catholic, FBI/Army guy, and sometimes that makes people assume I'm a bit of a bigot. So, he probably wouldn't tell me if he did." Sweets nodded understandingly.
"Do you want my advice?" Sweets asked. Booth gave a small nod. "Okay, well, I do think it would be healthy for you to tell him how you feel eventually. Clearly he's someone you really trust, or you wouldn't even be considering it, so I would hope he wouldn't be a jerk about it, even if he doesn't feel the same way. But, you also said you really only know each other in a work context, so maybe before you go and admit all of these feelings to him, you should invite him to hang out outside of work, talk about stuff other than work, and see how you feel after that. Maybe outside of work, you won't like him at all, or maybe you'll like him even more, but I think either way, it will help you have a better understanding of your feelings."
"Hang out with him outside of work… that's a good idea," Booth said, smiling, "Thanks, Sweets."
"Anytime, Booth. I'm always here, if you need to talk more," Sweets told Booth as he waved goodbye and strode out of the office. Turning back to his abandoned notes, Sweets forced himself to work on the profile, even though all he really wanted to do was deduce the identity of Booth's love interest.