(The Double Death of the Dearly Departed)

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"You know Bones, I'm never going to a funeral with you again." Booth was tired, he had a headache and he wanted to go home. He had just dropped Cam off at her apartment and they were on the way to Brennan's place. "I mean I go to a funeral for a colleague and the next thing I know we're investigating his murder."

"His translation." Brennan wanted to remind her partner that they were calling Hank Reilly's murder a translation.

Annoyed, Booth tried to control his irritation. "Yeah, translation . . . I mean we had to spend all day investigating a murder . . . translation that the coroner said was a fatal heart attack because the guy was going to be cremated and you insisted that someone killed him. You just couldn't leave it alone and now I have to get up early tomorrow morning and go to a grave site service and serve everyone poisoned tea."

"Pretend poisoned tea. We aren't really going to serve anyone poisoned tea." Brennan worried that Booth might really serve the wrong tea. "We just want the poisoner to think it's poisoned, so that he or she will refuse to drink it and therefore betray themselves as the murderer."

He couldn't help it, Booth rolled his eyes. "You can make the pretend tea, Bones. I wouldn't want to make a mistake." He meant is as sarcasm, but his friend and partner was incapable of recognizing sarcasm and he knew it.

"That's a good idea." Brennan had two thermoses in her kitchen, so she could make enough tea to go around and insure it was safe to do so. "You can bring the paper cups." She thought about his statement earlier and turned to face him. "Are you really never going to go to a funeral with me again? What if your grandfather died or Jared? Wouldn't you want me to be there at the funeral? I am your partner. Also, what if Max died? Wouldn't you want to go to his funeral? Just because I discovered that Hank Reilly was murdered doesn't mean that I would discover that someone else at a funeral had been killed. The odds are astronomical that that would happen."

He wished he'd kept his mouth shut. "No, Bones, I didn't really mean that. I'm just tired and I have a headache. If one of your loved ones dies, I'll go to their funeral and if one of my mine dies you need to come to the funeral, but you can't examine the bodies to see if they've been murdered . . . translated. You just don't do that at funerals. You'll get a reputation and no one will let you go to funerals anymore." Again, he was being sarcastic and again he knew it was useless.

"You have a good point." Brennan appreciated the advice. "I don't really see the point of going to funerals unless it is for a family member or someone you know, but yes, I can see where examining a body in a casket could be misconstrued and I don't wish to become a social pariah . . . But if I hadn't discovered that Hank Reilly had been translated then someone would have got away with translating him and that would have been terrible Booth. Wouldn't it have been terrible."

"Yeah, it would have been bad." He was not going to win this conversation and he knew it. "Still, the next time we go to a funeral, if something looks suspicious, just tell me, don't . . . don't touch the body. We'll think about what we can do then, but please no more translations at funerals. Just . . . just go, pay your respects and we'll leave."

Brennan thought about it for moment. "Yes, but if I do notice that someone has been translated we really can't ignore it especially if the body is going to be cremated, then we'll have to do something about it right away."

Reluctantly, Booth knew that his partner was going to do her thing regardless of what was proper behavior at funerals. He'd just have to avoid going to funerals with her, that was all there was to it. No more funerals with his partner unless the victim had been murdered then it wouldn't matter. "Yeah, we will."

There was silence between them for a few minutes then Brennan cleared her throat. "You said that the lawyer was nice." The lawyer had been beautiful, not as beautiful as her, but still she wondered if her partner was interested in Erin Miller?

"Uh, yeah, she is." Booth had considered asking Erin out, but not until they found out if she was the murderer or not. He'd have to keep his distance until then. Can't date murder suspects no matter how nice they seemed. "She seemed to like me."

That didn't seem to be good. "I like you too." Should she worry that Booth was interested in Erin Miller? "She is a murder suspect though."

"Yeah." Booth signed. "That's all I ever meet. Murder suspects or murder victims. It's tough to date someone when I all I meet is murder suspects or victims."

"Are you looking for someone to date?" Brennan knew that Booth was a healthy male and it would be strange if he didn't want to date someone. Of course, she had always thought of him as being a loner, but that was just a stereotype. The man did have a son and she knew that he had lived with Rebecca for a while and with Cam in college plus he had dated Cam recently, so not really a loner. "Of course, you are. Never mind."

His head was really bothering him and the last thing he wanted to do was talk about his sex life with his partner. "Do you have enough tea at home to make your pretend poisoned tea?" Please change topics.

"Yes, of course." Brennan loved tea. "I have several brands of tea in my kitchen cabinet. Of course, I don't have Hank's particular brand of tea, but I don't see why that would matter. Only Hank and the murderer knew what he had drank that morning and Hank is dead so he can't contradict us."

"Good point." He spotted Brennan's apartment building and looked for a parking space. Finding one a half a block away, he pulled in and turned off the ignition. "I'll come by around seven tomorrow and help you load the tea in the back seat . . . want me to walk you up to your apartment?"

Opening the door, Brennan shook her head. "That won't be necessary. You have a headache. Go home and take a hot bath. It might help. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Booth kept his eyes on Brennan until she entered the lobby of her apartment building. Comparing her to Erin Miller, Booth decided that Brennan was still his standard and everyone else paled in comparison. Shaking his head, he started his truck. Not only did all the women he meet were either co-workers or murder suspects, they also competed with Brennan for his attention and that was bad for him. Very bad.

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