Title: And the Center will Hold
Spoilers: Up to early Season 3
Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were, there would be a shirtless David Boreanaz in every ep. Seriously. Every one.
A/N: Sorry this chapter has been slow coming out. There have been a lot of really good fics out there and I get caught up reading instead of writing. This one has also been the hardest to write for some reason; let me know if it works.
"All I'm saying, Bones, is that you didn't have to antagonize the guy."
Samantha could see Booth in her rear view mirror muttering about 'squints and not belonging in interrogations'. His anger was directed at her current front seat passenger, who, much to Sam's surprise, didn't seem fazed in the least.
"You are just angry that I have learned how to interact with suspects now, Booth, and have become effective at interrogation. You are displaying a classic territorial response."
"It is not a "territorial response", Bones. You do the science-y stuff and I interrogate suspects. Not the other way around. That's how this team-thing works remember? And he would have cracked, too, if you had kept your mouth shut."
"Nooo... he would not have 'cracked', whatever that means. He would have been more responsive to our questions if you would not have scared him. He was opening up to me, after I gained his respect." She turned to the front with a huff.
"His respect? Get real. You told him three days ago that you and your team would nail his protégé, and that they would both spend the next thirty-five to life in there. Obviously, you haven't "nailed" anyone, or we wouldn't have gone back to question him today. Overconfidence, Bones. It ruins an interrogation." Booth sat back in the sedan's back seat with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He'd had the last word this time.
Wrong.
Bones swiveled back around in her seat, pulling against her seatbelt. "Booth, just because we had to go back to talk to him again does not give him the upper hand. Yes, I concede that it was a tad imprudent to be overconfident in our abilities to catch whoever it is Jimmy Hannery was working with outside of prison, but we still can catch this guy. The evidence is there."
"A tad imprudent? Understatement of the year, Bones. Now he-"
"ENOUGH!" Sam Fletcher's right hand shot out between the seats, her left one still on the wheel. She glared at Booth in the rear view mirror, then at Brennan to her right.
"I've had enough from the two of you. Fightin' like cats and dogs for the last hour. Need I remind ya'll that this is my investigation, and Jimmy Hannery is my best lead? Dr. Brennan, you and your team have been invaluable but you need to keep a lid on it during my interrogations."
Booth smirked at her chastisement of Brennan, but the grin was wiped away quickly when she pointed a finger at him in the mirror. "And you – you - were brought in on this as a courtesy, and you're making me regret it."
Booth and Brennan contritely looked at Sam, and then defiantly looked at one another. They were the most pig-headed pair she had ever worked with, bar none.
"Now, if you don't mind, we're stopping at the Royal Diner for some dinner. I've heard they have great pie."
The night air was cool when the three of them stepped out of the diner. Samantha had let them off the hook for their earlier argument, and Brennan had decided to like her a little, no matter what her past relationship with Booth had been.
"So Bones, are you parked around here close?" Booth was looking for her car on the street in front of the diner. The three of them had met there for coffee to go that morning.
"No, I'm in the parking deck two blocks down," she stated, starting to walk down the sidewalk.
"Then I'll walk with you."
"No, you're parked right here, Booth."
"I know Bones," he enunciated, "but I'm going to walk you to your car, it's late."
"Booth, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. You don't need to walk me to my car, like I'm a helpless child."
"I didn't say you were a helpless child, but there's no reason I can't walk you to your car."
Samantha's goodnight call went unnoticed as the pair continued to bicker back and forth as they continued down the sidewalk. Which in essence meant Booth was getting his way, as he was indeed walking her straight towards the parking deck and her car.
Sam just shook her head as she turned her ignition. Booth and Dr. Brennan distinctly reminded her of her twin six year olds, Riley and Rhianne. They too bickered constantly but would defend the other to the death if necessary. Samantha grinned at the comparison. Booth had finally met his match.
"Booth, why are you still following me?" her heels clip-clopping down the cold concrete sidewalk.
"I'm not 'following you' like some stalker Bones, I'm walking you to your car like I said," he answered testily.
"And like I said, I don't need an FBI escort to walk two blocks at nine o'clock at night, to a perfectly well-lit parking deck." She sped up a little, knowing her habit of walking really fast irritated him. Therefore, she tended to do it any time she was irritated with him. He had been edgy and disagreeable with her for nearly a week, and tried as she might she couldn't figure out why. That afternoon in his garage everything had seemed so real between them, and since that day he had been a complete jerk. Must be that male menopause again…
They were climbing the stairs to the top level even as she protested him going with her, and she took the steps two at a time to annoy him further.
"Jeez, Bones, there had to have been spaces lower in this deck when we met this morning. Why the top floor?" He was apparently refusing to argue anymore, now that they were nearly to her level, and he had effectively gotten his way.
"I only park on the top level now, Booth."
She tried to keep her tone even, light almost, as she said this. She knew Booth well enough to know that he would understand almost immediately. Since the Gravedigger snatched her, along with Hodgins, she would only park on the top levels of parking decks. Top levels left very few places to hide and were usually much better lit. Dr. Sweets would have a field day with this phobia she was sure.
"Oh."
His answer was equally even but nothing approaching light. Sneaking a glance over at him, she was shocked by the tension in his shoulders and jaw. He turned to face her and for one unguarded second she saw the memory of her time buried alive burning across his face.
For a moment she didn't know what to say. She wanted to comfort him some how, although she wasn't sure why.
"Booth…"
"And there you are," he cut her off, flicking a wrist in the direction of her car. Apparently he didn't want comfort.
"Yeah, there I am. Really, I'm good from here; I can make it the rest of the way."
"So you've said, Bones. See you later okay?" He seemed anxious to get away, after forcing his accompaniment on her a few minutes earlier.
Her brow wrinkled, she started to walk toward her car, flicking the keyless entry remote. Booth was a riddle that she was beginning to think even her far above average brain could not solve. Shoving her hand in her pocket she felt the cold metal cylinder he had loaned her earlier, and turned.
"Booth!" He was standing at the stairwell, watching her walk to her car. Even when he was cross at her – and sometimes especially then – he was still there making sure of her safety. His head snapped up at her cry.
She waved the silver pen in the air, calling out, "Your lucky pen! You let me borrow it at the diner; I don't want to lose it." He had given her strict instructions to give it back to him as soon as she finished using it but then they were distracted by the waitress and the whole argument on the way to her car. Maybe returning the writing utensil he dubbed "lucky" would be a truce of sorts.
She started walking his direction and he started walking hers, their long strides perfectly in sync to have them meeting halfway across the lot.
They never got to each other, as the night sky was lit up by the white-hot explosion of her car.
AN: I know, I know, I hate cliffies too. But I think I warned everyone at the outset of this story that I'm trying new things and this is one of them. No fear though, I know how the next chapter is going to go so it shouldn't take long to write.