(The Big Beef in the Royal Diner)

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I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooooo

Something was odd and Sweets wasn't sure what it was. He had tried to meet with Booth in his office several times for the last four days and the man kept putting him off. When he dropped by the Agent's office he was never there. He understood Booth had meetings he had to attend and there were cases that Booth worked on out in the field, but when Sweets had swung by the Booth's office on the fourth day just before lunch and later that evening Booth was gone. Determined to get to the bottom of the mystery, the next day Sweets brought his laptop into Booth's office when he had some free time, sat on the chair near the door and worked on his paperwork while he waited for Booth to show up. He wanted to talk to the Agent and he was determined to do it.

Puzzled why the psychologist was sitting in Booth's office, Aubrey walked into the room and stood in front of Sweets. "Do you need something?"

"I'm waiting for Booth to come back from wherever he is." Sweets didn't look up but continued to type on his laptop.

"He's gone to a meeting. After that he's going on some interviews with me." Aubrey hadn't worked with Sweets very much and they rarely crossed paths, but the agent didn't like the fact that he thought it was okay to park his butt in Booth's office.

Slowly closing the lid on his laptop, Sweets looked up at the agent and frowned. "I've been trying to talk to him for the last five days and I haven't been able to do that. Tomorrow is Saturday, so if I don't see him today then it will be another three days before I can. What's going on? He's avoiding me for some reason and I want to know why."

"Do you have something you need to see him about?" Aubrey was growing irritated with the man. He seemed to be sticking his nose into Booth's business and he wasn't sure he liked that. "If you do, tell me what it is and I'll let Booth know this afternoon when I see him."

"He used to talk to me . . . somethings changed since his grandfather died." Sweets stood up and placed his laptop under his arm. "Is he alright?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Aubrey glanced out at the bullpen and noticed Agent Sanchez waving a piece of paper at him. Quickly waving back, Aubrey returned his attention back to Sweets. "I'll tell Booth you're looking for him when I see him this afternoon. If he wants to talk to you, I imagine he'll call you."

Unsatisfied, Sweets walked over to the open doorway, paused and turned to look at the agent. "I noticed that you didn't answer my question. Is Booth alright?"

"Why wouldn't he be?" Annoyed, Aubrey checked his watch and tried to usher the man out of the office. "Listen Doc, I have some stuff to take care of. I'll let Booth know you're looking for him." Once they were both out of the office, Aubrey closed the door to Booth's office. After Sweets had left the area, Aubrey walked back over to his desk, checked the phone message Sanchez had left on his desk and made a phone call.

Ooooooooooooooooo

They were sitting in the Royal Diner having lunch when Sweets interrupted Daisy's complaint about a new intern. "Daisy, do you know if anything is wrong with Booth? I've been trying to talk to him all week, but he's been avoiding me. I talked to Agent Aubrey this morning, but he wouldn't talk to me about Booth. I'm worried that something's going on."

While she didn't officially know what was going on in Booth's life, she had overheard Brennan and Cam talking while they were standing below the platform. Daisy had dropped a sample container and when she had chased it to the edge of the platform, she had noticed the two women standing below her talking rather intently. Since she didn't want to interrupt their conversation, she had knelt next to the container and slowly picked it up while they continued to talk below. It wasn't as if she was trying to eavesdrop, was she? No, she was picking up something she had dropped. "Well, I happened to overhear Dr. Brennan talking to Dr. Saroyan on Wednesday and Dr. Brennan told Dr. Saroyan that Booth was attending more Gamblers Anonymous meetings. He's been going at lunch time and in the evening right after work. Apparently, he's feeling the urge to gamble and he's trying to stop it . . . It's sad really. He hasn't gambled for a long time and I guess the urge hit him hard lately and he wants to gamble."

Stunned, Sweet stared at Daisy and wondered why Booth hadn't come to him. He could help him. He knew he could. "That must be why Booth has been avoiding me all week . . . That also means he felt comfortable enough to tell Agent Aubrey what was going on, but not me. I'm Booth's friend, Aubrey is new around here. I don't get it. I really don't."

She saw the hurt look on her lover's face and knew that he was upset that Booth didn't trust him. "Well, we all know that Agent Booth is a very private person. I'm not supposed to know about it either. I just happened to hear Dr. Brennan tell Dr. Saroyan about it. Have you tried to call him?"

"Yes, but I keep getting his voice mail." Worried that Booth was fighting his gambling demon alone, Sweets knew he'd have to find a way to get in touch with Booth and offer his support. "I know we're supposed to go to the movie tonight, but I think I have something more important to take care of. I'm going to go to Booth's house tonight around nine or so. Maybe I can get him to let me help him if I make the offer directly."

"But Lance, you're not supposed to know about it, how are you going to explain how you know? If you tell him I told you then he's going to be mad at me and so will Dr. Brennan and you know it . . ."

Before she could say anything else, Sweets held up his hand and interrupted her. "Daisy . . . I won't tell him you told me. I'll say I figured out something was wrong and gambling seemed the logical conclusion. Don't worry about it."

"Well . . . okay, then." The last thing Daisy wanted was to have Dr. Brennan angry with her about overhearing her conversation. Of course, Dr. Saroyan didn't have a sense of humor about things like that either and she didn't want her mad too. "Just, don't get me involved. I almost have my doctorate. I don't want to be kicked out of the program now."

"Oh Daisy, they wouldn't do that." At least he hoped they wouldn't. "That would just be a mean thing to do." A very mean thing to do and he didn't believe Brennan or Cam were that kind of people. "But I will be careful, I promise."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

It was late, but it was Friday night and Sweets had patiently sat in his car until Booth drove up into his driveway. Leaving his car, he walked rapidly up the driveway and met Booth as the man walked around his truck. "Booth? I'd like to talk to you."

Startled, Booth had moved into a defensive position before he had realized that it was Sweets standing on the edge of the driveway. "What the hell, Sweets. If you hadn't said anything, I wouldn't have known it was you." His heart racing, Booth stood in a more relaxed position trying to calm his nerves. "I've been attacked in my house, for God's sake. I could have hurt you. I could have killed you."

He realized that he had made a strategic mistake, but Sweets was determined to carry out his mission. "I'm sorry. I should have waited until you were on the porch in the light before I approached you. I just wanted to talk to you before you went into the house."

Wary, Booth stepped back and leaned against his SUV, his arms folded against his chest. "What about? Why be sneaky about it?"

"Well . . . I've been trying to talk to you all week about something personal, but when I couldn't touch base with you after trying for four days, I started to think about what might be happening and I . . . um, well . . . Are you gambling again Booth? Or are you thinking about gambling again? You've worked so hard over the years and . . ."

Before Sweets could say anything else, Booth held up his right hand. "Stop . . . just stop." Not sure if he should be angry or not, Booth decided anger might be his best weapon. "What the hell gives you the right to interfere in my life? Huh?" He raised his voice but was careful not to shout. He didn't want Brennan to come outside and become part of what was happening at the moment. "For your information, I'm not gambling, I know better than that. But what I am doing is none of your damn business."

"Look Booth, I'm a trained psychologist and I can help you if you're having urges to gamble. I want to help you if that is the problem." It was fairly dark and Sweets couldn't see Booth's face very clearly. The fact that the man was just leaning against his truck and wasn't shoving him down the driveway must mean something. "I'm your friend. Let me help you if you need it."

Booth knew that Sweets meant well, but the boy clearly didn't realize what he was trying to do. "You work for the FBI, Sweets which means you have to report anything that I might talk to you about that might affect my job. I mean there is a patient client privilege thing up to a point . . . I'm not gambling. I'm not doing anything to jeopardize my job or my marriage. Bones knows what's going on and she should, but you . . . I don't need your help." Booth was hoping that Sweets was listening to him. If the Director or the Deputy Director thought he was gambling it could ruin his chances for a promotion if not his job outright. He didn't need false rumors getting back to them. "I promise you that I'm not gambling. Just leave me alone. What I'm doing is hard enough without worrying about you ruining my career with careless accusations."

Shocked, Sweets stepped back and stared at his friend. "I would never spread false accusations about you to anyone let alone our bosses . . . I . . . I can't believe you think I'd do something like that. I used to be your psychologist, but I'm not now. I'm your friend and any help I gave you would be as your friend, not as a paid psychologist for the FBI. You're not gambling that's great, but Booth . . . Booth, you've been under enormous pressure for over a year. Hell, let's be realistic, you've been under a lot of pressure for a lot of years and finally . . . finally when things have settled down, now that Durant is dead and his band of traitors are in jail, now that Brennan is pregnant and you're having another child, your grandfather died. He was the father that raised you and he's been in your life since you can remember. He took you from an abusive father, he rescued you and gave you a better life and now he's gone. That had to have been a blow, Booth and if suddenly you feel like you're out of control when you thought you finally had control then I can understand why the compulsion to gamble is back . . ."

"Stop!" Furious, Booth stood away from his truck and snarled at his friend. "Stop it! I'm not gambling . . . I don't know why you've got this bug up your ass all of a sudden about me, but just stop it. I've been busy all week and you didn't see me and now you think I'm gambling . . . I can't imagine where you got that idea, but it's not true. I go to my meetings and yes, I've been under a lot of pressure but everything is fine now. I'm fine. Bones is fine. I'm a busy man and I have a lot of shit I have to do. I don't have a nine to five job. I've never had a nine to five job. You . . ." Booth stopped. He realized that he was yelling and Brennan was looking at him through the parted curtain in the living room window. Lowering his voice, he stepped closer to Sweets and stopped. "I'm not gambling. I'm not cheating on Bones. I'm not robbing banks or anything else your fevered brain can think of. I'm busy and I can't always see you when you want to see me . . . Go home Sweets. Just . . . just go home." He moved past the younger man staring at Brennan through the window. He knew she was concerned and this was Sweets' fault. The man was nosy and pushy and sometimes he pushed too far.

Before Booth entered his house, Sweets turned and called out to him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad. I just wanted to offer you my help if you needed it. "

"Go home, Sweets." Booth entered the house and faced Brennan as she walked up to him. "Sweets thinks I'm gambling again. I told him I'm not, but I don't know if he believes me."

Worried, Brennan placed her hands on the sides of Booth's neck, leaned forward and kissed him. "He means well."

"Yeah, I know." Booth returned her kiss and smiled. "He's a pain in the ass and I'd like to know where he got the idea that I'm gambling again. A rumor like that could kill my career."

"How was your meeting this evening?" Brennan was concerned that Sweets might have ruined the good work that Booth was doing to help himself.

He knew she was concerned and he loved her so much for that. She was on his side and that was all Booth needed. "It was good. I talked to Gavin after the meeting for a while. It was good. The drum in my head is starting to go away, Bones. It's not as loud as it was last week. Okay?"

Slowly nodding her head, Brennan knew that Booth was being honest with her. What he was going through was hard, but he wasn't hiding that from her. "Good, I have dinner waiting for you. I promised Christine that we're going to go to the carousel tomorrow. She was excited."

"Good, maybe we can make a picnic and spend the day at the park. We haven't done that for a while."

Oooooooooooooooo

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