(The Woman in the Whirlpool)

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I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooo

Though it had been hard, Booth felt like he had finally got a handle on his gambling problem. He felt the urge to gamble had less of a grip on him than it had in many weeks. He went to his meetings, he talked to Gavin and he talked to Brennan. More than once he had come to her and told her the drum was beating loudly in his chest and Brennan had helped him to push back his urges to gamble. Grateful to be in a relationship with someone strong enough to help him, Booth felt he needed to show her his gratitude.

During a few lunch hours, he had roamed some antique stores he liked to browse in and found a white gold drop pendant necklace made with aquamarine and tiny diamonds. The central stone reminded him of the color of Brennan's eyes and he knew that the necklace was made just for her. The necklace was old and out of style so the shop owner gave him a good deal on it. Booth didn't care about style, he cared about quality and the necklace had the look of fine craftsmanship. He looked forward to seeing it around Brennan's lovely neck.

That evening, he had presented her with the necklace just after they ate dinner and Christine had been dazzled with the brilliant stone in the necklace. Brennan had accepted the necklace and held her fingers against the edges of the stone staring at it as it dangled between her breasts. "It's lovely Booth, but you shouldn't have bought it."

"I'm a lucky man to be married to a woman like you . . . smart, beautiful, you love me . . . I . . . I don't show how much I love you as often as I should." Booth sat down and grasped Brennan's hand. "You're in my corner and when I fall you don't hold it against me . . . Thank you."

"You're welcome, Booth." Her smile was a sad little smile. She knew that Booth worried that he might fail her someday, but she trusted him and she knew that if he did fail, he was strong enough to recover. He would always recover. "You didn't have to buy the necklace, but I do appreciate it. It's lovely."

Pleased that she was happy with the necklace, Booth lifted her hand and kissed it. "You deserve more . . . the color of the stone reminds me of the color of your eyes."

"Aw, you're so romantic, Booth." And that was something she loved about her husband. She wasn't very romantic and rarely showed her romantic side, but she could count on Booth to find ways to be romantic and when he did, it made her feel like she was the center of his universe.

"Yeah . . . I try to be." Booth noticed how intensely his daughter was staring at the stone and knew that when she was old enough, he would buy her a necklace or a ring that would make her happy too. Both of his girls deserved more than he could give, but happiness wasn't about material wealth. It was about love, trust and honor with laughter thrown into the mix.

Oooooooooooooooooo

Their latest case seemed to hit home for Booth. The victim had been a cookie jar collector. Leslie Hodsoll's obsession had been an actual addiction as far as Booth was concerned. He'd seen people like Leslie at GA meetings, at Jared's AA meetings. Her cookie jars were more important to her than her own child or her relationships with other people. She used anyone she could to get what she wanted and in the end it had caused her to lose her life. He had seen it too many times and Booth vowed that he would never let his addiction get the better of him. He had too much to lose.

While Booth understood all too well what Leslie had been going through, Aubrey was left wondering if he really understood what motivated people. Unlike Booth, he couldn't understand how someone could get so obsessed with cookie jars. "They're containers for cookies for God's sake. How can anyone get addicted to pottery?"

Amused, Sweets tried not to smile while he stirred his coffee. The psychologist had found Aubrey in the break room preparing his coffee and the agent had asked if he could talk to him about Leslie. "Cookie jars, baseball cards, jewelry, expensive paintings, gambling, alcohol. If someone has an addictive personality their passion for any of these things can make them susceptible to addiction. Addiction isn't just confined to things that are terrible for you. They can be innocuous or benign things. Yes, cookie jars seem a rather bizarre thing to become obsessed with, but only to you. There are cookie jar collectors who would disagree with you. They value their jars and there are prizes out there that they are searching for to add to their collection. It can become an obsession . . . an addiction and if the collector doesn't recognize that their hobby is taking over his or her life, that their search and ownership of cookie jars is taking more precedence over family obligations, over friends . . . well it can ruin their life like Leslie's addiction did to her. This can apply to all addictions . . . smoking, drinking alcohol, gambling . . . collecting . . . It's important that the person that is addicted understand what is going on and is willing to fix their problem, but it has to be them. No one can make someone change their habits. No one can force an addict to control their addiction. It has to come from the person with the addiction. Leslie was an addict. She used her store manager to get him to help her steal a cookie jar and once she had the jar, she didn't want Ted Thomson anymore and he lost it. He flew into a rage, he used one of Leslie's precious jars to kill her with and now he has to pay for what he did. Addictions don't just affect the addict it affects everyone around them."

"I guess I never understood addiction could be about anything . . . it's a lot to think about." Aubrey had been an FBI agent for a few years and he'd seen a lot of craziness when it came to addicted personalities, but this had been his first inkling that addictions could cover things like cookie jars. "To lose your life over pottery . . . it's nuts . . . um, if someone loved to eat and he uh . . . isn't overweight but his consumption of food isn't normal . . . well, could . . ." He stopped. He wasn't sure he wanted to be told he was a food addict.

"Some people have high metabolisms, Agent Aubrey." Sweets had seen how much Aubrey loved food, but the agent's diet was varied, it wasn't consistently bad and he wasn't overweight. "I don't think you're a food addict. Now if you start to focus on one particular food group like potato chips or beer and it starts to affect your relationships or your health then you might want to reconsider your choices, but right now, I'd say you're just a guy who enjoys eating. Keep an eye on it, but as long as it's not an obsession, then you'll be fine."

Relieved, Aubrey sprinkled a little cinnamon in his drink. "My Mom ate a lot too and she was rail thin. She told me that it's hereditary."

After he checked his watch, Sweets realized he's spent too much time on the fourth floor. "She may have been right. I have some reports I need to deal with."

Once he was alone in the break room, Aubrey turned to look at the vending machine. "Hey, roasted peanuts. They can't be bad for me." After he'd made his purchase, he returned to his desk and continued to write up his notes on his latest case.

Ooooooooooooooooooo

"Bones, I was thinking we should take that vacation we talked about." Booth was moving his fork through his plate of chicken stir fry, but not really eating anything. "We could really use a vacation together. Away from all the craziness, the job . . . I just want to get away from here for a while. I don't care where we go as long as it's with you."

She had noticed her husband's lack of appetite and was relieved to know it wasn't about the case they had just had. Brennan had seen how the case had affected him and how sad it had made him to deal with it. His gambling addiction was under control, but he had seen what could happen when it wasn't and she knew it had affected him. "I think you're right. I think we do need to get a way . . . I'll talk to Angela and see if she can watch Christine for us while we're gone. If she can't I'm sure that Dad will do it. He loves to babysit Christine . . . Could you ask your friend if we can have his cabin for a week? It's nice, it's isolated and it's not likely we'll be asked to investigate a murder while we're there."

"Sure, I can ask him . . . I thought you might like to go to someplace exotic, like an island or something." Booth was surprised. He had noticed Brennan had a travel brochure for Greece in her office the last time he had been there. "Maybe Greece?"

"Greece?" Brennan stared at her mate for a moment and smiled. "The brochure on my desk for Greece was placed there by Dr. Edison. He was telling me about a Thracian settlement that has been found in eastern Greece. He was considering going there for vacation this year and visiting the site. He has been in contact with Dr. Drakos who is in charge of the dig. Dr. Drakos isn't adverse about Dr. Edison's visit. Also, I'm pregnant and I shouldn't be traveling in planes right now."

Mystery solved. "Okay, well if you want to go to the cabin, I'll see what I can do." Greece might have been fun, but the cabin would be more isolated and he thought that sounded even better. "Thanks Bones. I think we both need this."

"You're welcome Booth. I'm looking forward to it." Brennan had a lot of work to do, but her husband's health and well being had to come first. He had struggled for weeks to find himself and to overcome his need to gamble and he needed a reward to acknowledge his success. They both did.

Oooooooooooooooooo

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