Flip. Catch. Flip. Catch. Why aren't I feeling calmer? Flip. Catch. Flip. Catch. Flip. The damn chip curves slightly away and I know I'm gonna miss it. I could scoot my chair a bit and catch it, but don't bother. Stupid chip. Why do I hold on to the damn thing anyway? It's a part of my PAST. "No Seeley, it's a part of YOU. Willing to rear up and send you flying at any moment. It's why you're in this mess now."

Higher Power. My Catholic upbringing says it's the still, small, voice Abraham heard in the cave, the voice of God. My FBI self says it's me remembering the words of my sponsor this morning. In any event, it's enough for me to look under my desk to grab the thing. Of course, that's. Hacker comes in. I scoot up back in my chair while slipping the chip in my pocket.

"Oh, come on! Special Agent Booth, there's no reason to be hiding under your desk. It's just a press conference."

Assistant Director Doofus. I hate him. I really do,

"Assistant Director Hacker, Sir, good morning,"

"Sir? Oh man, you are so not happy."

I have the right to remain silence. Anything I say can, and will, be used against me."

"Just retrieving a pen, Sir."

"Booth, cut the 'Sir' we aren't doing the conference right this second."

I can't help but smirk at the subtext: when we are doing the conference, I will be expected to be using the full protocol of 'sir'.

"Just staying in practice, Hacker."

He actually laughs at that. The man has the most annoying laugh, but I manage a smile, because, hey, he's the assistant director and because of my petty ex-girlfriend we have to do damage control for the bureau. I follow him out of my office to the elevator.

B&B&B&B

There isn't a huge crowd of reporters, which on the one hand is good. The part that isn't so great is that it means I can see Hannah clearly. Of course, I probably would have anyway. While the rest of the press corp are in tailored suits and office wear, she's wearing some kind of black see-through jacket and a red tank top. I never really thought about how she dressed for work, but seeing her with all the other reporters, it occurs to me there's a reason that her biggest interviews have been men.

I can't believe I missed how petty she is, how childish...or maybe it's more...how driven. I should have turned her in that day in Afghanistan, but my dick shut off my brain. If I had turned her in she'd have lost her assignment - she'd had way too many warnings. Maybe gratitude and my rugged good looks had nothing to do with her blowing me right then and there. Looking at her now, the memory makes me sick.

"I can see why you were dating."

Hacker's snide little whisper makes it worse. Especially since I know he's actually trying to do some male-bonding/solidarity thing before we actually get up to the podium.

"Let's just get this over with. Sir."

Hacker chuckles as he steps to the podium.

B&B&B&B

I do not generally watch television. However, I find myself walking to the staff lounge. I am never in there unless I don't feel like going out for coffee, or I wish to speak with an intern in a more relaxed, spontaneous way. It is something I have been making more of an effort to do since returning from Maluka. As such, I am aware that aside from vending machines with highly caloric, chemically preserved, sugary snacks and drinks, a microwave, coffee machine, sink, and refrigerator, there is, mounted high on the wall, a television.

Andrew is standing in front of a podium with his usual smirk. I find it hard to believe that I felt so desperate for sex that I tried to imagine having intercourse with him. Thankfully, I am not overly imaginative and could not create that image. The idea was even more ridiculous than me having sex with the child-like Mr. Nigel-Murray.

I can see Booth standing in the background. He is stoic, looking straight ahead - very much like a solider at attention. The volume is down, so I can't here what's being said. Glancing around I see the remote on the counter. As I turn up the volume, Andrew's slightly nasal voice drones in.

"Special Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan's unconventional partnership does in fact have the highest caseload solve rate in the FBI's homicide division; However, the numbers being compared are VERY high numbers. Furthermore, although Special Agent Booth is not one to brag, he had the highest solve rate BEFORE working with Dr. Brennan. The pairing has simply increased the solve rate from remarkable to extraordinary."

Booth has never mentioned this fact to me. It's something I would remember.

"Then why doesn't he have your job?"

I recognize her voice, but I can't believe it. Booth is none reactive, while Andrew is turning red. Still, he smiles at her.

"The jobs require very different skill sets, Ms..."

"Burley, WNBS Fox 9."

"Aside from the general skills required of an FBI agent in the field, Special Agent Booth has proven to be one of the few people able to bridge the level of high-end scientific understanding that the Jeffersonian provides with the more psychological profiling and investigative work involved in a federal homicide investigation. His skills in this area are somewhat irreplaceable."

I can't stop grinning. The other reason Booth could never do Andrew's job would be Booth's inability to praise someone he intensely dislikes. Andrew is doing it flawlessly. I notice that Booth still hasn't even smiled. It occurs to me that his presence isn't even necessary.

"Is special agent Booth incapable of speaking for himself?"

The press corp twitters a bit. Booth still doesn't react. He's as still as I imagine him to be as when working as a sniper...Andrew glances back at Booth and I watch him approach the the podium and take the mic. He is looking directly at Hannah. I know understand the meaning of the phrase, "if looks could kill."

"The only reason I'm here wasting valuable time from an ongoing murder investigation is to answer any pertinent questions the media might have - because apparently it's more important that the media be kept abreast of our every move so that headlines can be made than to actually bring a murder victim to justice. So, let's have your questions so I can get back to work."

Watching him speak so assertively I feel proud...and sexually aroused - again. It's like watching him do an interrogation. I feel proud to be his partner, to hear him defend the importance of of work in comparison to the selling of newspapers or boosting ratings. In this game of good cop bad cop, Booth was definitely the bad cop... It's odd. I never went for bad boys, but somehow, when Booth is playing bad I just want to have him naked and inside me. Maybe it's all that pent up aggression that is so visible and yet leased. Fuck. This is NOT a helpful train of thought. Time to click off the television. As I walk back to my office, the thought occurs to me that at least I can be sure that whatever he did have with Hannah has clearly fallen into metaphorical rubble.

B&B&B&B&B&B

As I'm leaving the podium to get back to work I watch Hannah trying not to scowl as her stupid little revenge story is falling apart before her eyes. Once I was asked about the victim's identity all interest in an FBI witch-hunt ceased. There were a couple of nice comments about how quickly the victim had been identified, questions about any theories we might have, and then a bit about the gravedigger sentencing that would be happening in a few weeks. At that point, Hacker took over and I'd been free to go. I could go go straight to work, but honestly just her looking at me makes me feel like I need a shower.