AN: Set around "Headless Witch in the Woods."

Bonding

"Why did we think this was a good idea again?" Booth asked, sighing and flopping down on a barstool.

"We just got here," I pointed out, following suit. "Maybe it was a good idea and you just don't realize it yet."

Booth continued as if I hadn't spoken. He does that a lot—you get used to it. "That's right! You thought this was a good idea. I wanted to stay at home, on my couch, with my TV, and watch the game."

"And I didn't want to spend another night hearing about the cute pair shoes on sale or how Johnny Depp is the only guy who can be deranged in every movie and still look hot," I shot back. A grin crossed Booth's face, I'm not positive if it was sympathetic or mocking. "I love Angie, really, I do. But I think she forgets sometimes that I'm not a girl."

"Trust me, she knows you're not a girl," he scoffed. I've heard more than enough at work to prove that."

I laughed. "Either way, I needed some guy time, and since my other male colleague is… Zack, you win. It's about time you and I fit in some male bonding."

Booth remained skeptical as we ordered drinks, and after several minutes of extremely awkward silence, he spoke up. "So. Male bonding. What do we do exactly?"

Hell if I knew. "Huh. Well, we be… manly." I flexed my arm for emphasis. "And we… bond?"

"You have no idea, do you?" It wasn't a question.

"None."

Booth sighed. "I have this image of sitting around smoking cigars and… talking about the economy."

"Are we comparing golf swings, too?" I muttered, my eyes rolling towards the ceiling.

He shrugged. "Rich guys like cigars, right?"

"Do you know what's in cigars?" For the record, no, I do not like cigars. I like my lungs. Call me crazy.

"No, but I'm sure you do."

"Of course," I replied.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sucked in a deep breath. "I assume you're going to tell me?"

I actually had been planning on it, but I figured Booth got enough scientific explanation from Doctor B to last him awhile. "Nope."

"I'll drink to that." His glass hit mine with a clink before I even had a chance to lift it off the table.

"We could play pool," I suggested. I didn't realize my mistake until Booth turned to glare at me, and I winced. "But we couldn't play for money, because that has the potential to send you down a path of addiction and self loathing and… you know what? Never mind."

His eyes closed in irritation, and for a second, I was sure he would deck me. When his eyes reopened, however, he seemed slightly calmer. "Thanks for the consideration, Jack," he said bitterly.

"Hey, you called me Jack! First name basis… It's a start." Booth wasn't so excited, though, and I decided to admit defeat. "Look, Booth—"

"Hodgins," he cut me off. "I've got it."

"Got what?"

The first smile not at my expense made an appearance. "You and I, my friend, are going to sit here, get drunk, and talk about women."

"I will drink to that!" This time the glass clinking was mutual. The joy, however, was short-lived.

"You're thinking about Angela, aren't you" he asked after a moment.

"Pretty much." Both nodded solemnly and took a drink of his beer. "You thinking about Cam?" I asked.

The question caught him off guard, and for a moment, he seemed to have no idea what I was talking about. Then, a flicker of recognition. "Yeah. I'm thinking about Cam."

My first thought was that FBI agents should be better liars. I opened my mouth to tell Booth this, but abruptly changed my mind and shut it again. Partially, it was because of the way he suddenly found his glass so interesting and also because I was pretty sure we wouldn't hesitate to shoot me. Mostly, though, it was because I'm smart enough to know that wasn't what he needed to hear. "Okay."

Booth looked up, surprised, and stared at me, the way I imagine he stares down suspects in the interrogation room. Then he grinned. "Okay," he echoed. We both downed the rest of our drinks, and Booth leaned back in his stool. "You know, Jack, I think this was a good idea."

"But we'll never do it again?" I guessed.

"When Hell freezes over, Hodgins," he replied brightly. And with that, we clicked together empty cups and ordered another round.