AN: Again, thanks ever so to MiseryMaker for reading this chapter through. : )

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

The Officer in the Oubliette

Chapter Three: The Special Relationship

The Sanctuary House – Monday, Early Evening

"Well, I'd say you two are a hit. And you've certainly earned your pint." Rob Jackson said as he slid a tall glass filled with chilled amber liquid over to Booth. "Now, what does the good doctor drink?"

"The same." Booth confirmed as he saluted the other man with his drink in thanks and knocked back a refreshing mouthful.

"Really? I wouldn't have pegged Doctor Brennan as a beer drinker."

"Yeah, she's a surprising woman." Booth put down his glass and reached inside his jacket pocket for his wallet.

"No. These are on me." Before Booth could protest, Rob placed a £20 note down on the thickly polished wooden countertop."

"Thanks, man." Booth said before taking another satisfying drink.

"You take these over, and I'll wait on your partner's pint."

Booth formed a triangle shape with his hands and expertly picked up Rob's pint of lager, his own and also a large glass of red wine. He made his way back through the crowd of people to the entranceway of the dimly-lit pub and took a seat next to Brennan, who was listening intently to something the petite red-haired woman seated opposite was saying. They were seated in a small nook next to the window (Rob had informed them they were extremely lucky to have nabbed a table at all). It was a tight fit, but Booth wasn't about to complain.

"Oooh, drinks." Said the redhead as she leant forward to pick up the glass of wine. "I so need this."

"Rob is waiting on your drink." He explained to Brennan, as he moved in closer still, making way for a well-built man who was seemingly intent on grabbing the spare seat at the table next to their own.

"This place is jammed." He stated the obvious as he took another long drink, careful not to dig his partner in her side with his elbow as he did so.

"Yeah, it's a popular after-work destination for Offs and Civil Servants." Rob chimed in as he caught up with them. He handed over Brennan's pint of lager before taking a seat next to the redhead.

"Offs?" Brennan queried, sipping her drink. Booth watched her out the corner of his eye, trying to ignore the fact that she looked all kinds of cute as she sipped demurely at her pint like it was a glass of fine wine.

"Officers...Police Officers...or cops, I guess to you guys. Do you have a 'Local' back in D.C.?"'

"Yeah. I gotta say, though, I've never known it to get as busy as this place." Booth added.

"This is nothing; you should see this place when the 'footy's' on. Remember that time last year, Harry, when we were playing Portugal – it was murder in 'ere."

Harriet Randall nodded vigorously and quickly swallowed her mouthful of wine. "I lost a bloody shoe, if you can believe it!"

"I still don't know how you managed it." Rob laughed as he rested back in his seat.

"You make it sound like I was actively trying to lose it. I told you, I took my shoes off because I'd been on my feet all day...and then when we scored, everyone started jumping about and they got kicked across the floor. That was one interesting trip home on the Tube that night, believe me. I mean, the train was crawling with weirdoes and yet a woman wearing one shoe was the funniest sight ever."

"It was pretty funny, Har." Rob grinned as he knocked back a healthy drink of his pint.

"Shut-up." Harriet shot back as she tried unsuccessfully to hold back a smile of her own.

Booth liked them. Rob was a good guy, he could tell that right off the bat, and his partner was equally friendly and down to earth. In some ways, their dynamic mirrored his and Brennan's, what with their good-natured teasing of one another and the obvious professional commitment they had to each other. But whereas neither he nor Brennan had a significant other to speak of, Harriet was married and had only been back at work for a few months since taking time out to have her second child.

"Speaking of sports: are you interested in sinking a few beers and watching a game tomorrow night at my place?" Rob looked to Brennan and Booth. "No worries if you have other plans, but if you're at a loose end, you're more than welcome. You and Dave are coming, right Har?"

"We'll try, but it's not looking likely at this point. My mum was meant to babysit, but my sister's in town for the week and I think they might have plans to go out."

"Pity. I'm planning on making my famous chilli bean dip."

"Ugh...that stuff is lethal. Last time Dave ate some of your hideous concoction, I made him sleep in the spare room. The stench of garlic was terrible."

"Who's playing?" Booth asked, but honestly he wasn't bothered about the details. He had the chance of chilling out with a few beers and watching sports. Okay, so it was soccer – but it was sport nonetheless. He was a man of simple tastes. Besides, Brennan had told him that she planned to spend the following evening visiting her friend at the Natural History Museum. And it certainly beat spending the evening eating take-out and watching TV in his room alone.

"Pens and the Caps." Rob replied as he finished off the last of his pint.

"Hockey! You guys are gonna watch the hockey?" Booth's good mood increased exponentially.

"Yeah. And now Crosby's back fit, we might just have a game on our hands."

"I thought you meant soccer...sorry, football."

"There's a footy match on at the weekend, and so if you're still around, you're welcome to come round and watch. You an ice hockey fan, Booth?"

Booth tried not to splutter into the remainder of his drink. "Yeah, I'm a Flyers fan, but I go and watch the Caps wherever I can. Count me in for tomorrow night. Bones has other plans though, right?"

Brennan nodded and thanked Rob for the invitation.

"That's too bad. Speaking of the Caps - the atmosphere at the Verizon Center is something else, ain't it? I caught a game there last year. Coincidentally, they were playing the Penguins that night – man, the crowd was hating on Crosby the whole game."

"You've been to D.C.?"

"A pal of mine moved out there a couple of years ago and I went over to see him. He's the one that got me interested in the hockey, and then I converted Harry's husband and a few guys at work. I liked D.C., it's a cool place...I can see from the look on your face that you don't agree."

"No...no - it's not that. Maybe it's just difficult to appreciate it when you spend most of your days processing dead bodies and trawling the streets for murderers. And besides, it's not Philly."

"I know what you mean. I've lived in London all my life and I know there are some really great sights to see and places to visit, but after I've put in a full week dealing with arseholes and crack heads, I just wanna shut my front door and keep the city out."

"I'll drink to that." Booth drained the last of his pint and stood up. "Next round's on me. Same again, Harriet?"

"I really shouldn't... Dave's had the kids all day and I promised him that I'd leave work on time for once and pick up a curry on the way home."

"Booth – get the woman a drink. No way she's going anywhere until she's had at least two glasses. Besides, I have the car with me, Har – I'll drop you home."

"Okay, not only are you going to give the impression to our lovely American guests that I'm an old soak, but also I live a forty minute drive from your place."

"Don't worry about the drive. It's a nice evening; I'll go past my place on the way and pick up Baxter, and after I drop you off, I'll take him for a walk on the common."

"Are you sure?" Harriet asked, trying not to get her hopes up. She really did want another glass of wine; after all, it had been another trying day. Not only that, she was enjoying herself. Doctor Brennan was so nice and very interesting to talk to, and as for Agent Booth...well, he was very easy on the eyes. Not to say that he too wasn't an interesting person, just that she was still trying to look past how ridiculously good looking he was. And just now as he stood there in front of her, wearing a light grey tailored suit, a crisp white shirt and burgundy tie...and a...the only word which came to mind was 'suggestive' red belt buckle with the word "Cocky" on it, she wondered if he and Doctor Brennan had a thing going on the side. They had to be doing it, right?

"Earth to Harriet...Har...so, are you staying or going?" Rob asked as he handed over his empty glass to Booth.

"Well, if you're sure..."

"She's staying." Rob confirmed and shot Booth a knowing smile. He liked that his partner was so predictable. Of course, she'd probably say the same of him.

Booth turned to Brennan and almost did a double take – she'd finished her drink and was holding out her glass, indicating she'd like another. How did she finish it so fast? He took the glass from her and then reached down for his own. Walking back to the bar, he stepped right and then left and then right again as he weaved in and out of a swirling, disorganised mass of people. Rob was right, he thought as he was within sight of the bar, he and Bones were a hit. Cullen was going to be pleased.

"What can I get you, mate?" The barman said as he finished slow-pouring a pint of Guinness and then handed it over to the man standing next to Booth.

"Three pints of Stella Artois and a large glass of red wine, thanks."

"What type of red do you want?"

Booth quickly surveyed the row of bottles behind the barman, as if the answer would somehow become apparent. "Crap...I'm not sure. One sec..." He leaned forward part way over the bar, his eyes scanning to the left until he spotted Bones. Just at that moment, she looked up towards the bar.

"Bones." He mouthed. "What wine is Harriet drinking?"

Brennan shrugged and then shook her head, indicating that she didn't have a clue what he was asking. He tried again, but before he could see her response, more people flooded in through the entrance door and blocked his field of vision. He waited a few seconds to see if they would move on, or at least hoping to catch a break in the crowd so that he could see her. It was no good.

"Ah, sorry." He addressed the slightly irritated-looking barman. "If you can make a start on the beers, I'll check on that wine order."

"So, you want three Stella's, right?"

"Yeah. Thanks...I'll back in a minute."

As he turned, he bumped smack into Brennan, who had appeared from out of nowhere behind him. He instinctively reached out and grabbed her by the upper arms, to steady them both.

"Ow, nice going, Bones." He moaned as they both at the same time looked down and watched as she removed the toe of her heeled shoe from atop his foot.

"Sorry. But I thought you might need some help. You were asking me something, but I couldn't make out what."

Then they looked up, and both seemed unsure of where to look as they realised how close they were.

"Oh, sure...thanks...it's just that I don't know what wine to order for Harriet. Any ideas?" Booth stared straight ahead into her eyes. He knew if he allowed his gaze to glide lower to her mouth, he'd be a dead man. Don't look down, Seel. Don't do it. No good can come of it. Focus!

"No. I...I'll go ask her." Brennan offered, but she made no effort to walk away.

It was then that Booth realised he still had hold of his partner. Dropping his hands away, as if he'd been scalded, he smoothed down his tie for no reason apart from nervous habit and told her "thank you." Turning back to the bar, he noticed the barman watching his partner as she walked away. Booth knew that look. He could recognise it at fifty paces. He owned that look.

"Ah hum..." Booth purposely broke the man's concentration.

"Yeah, yeah – three Stella's...I got it."

AN: I accept that Ice Hockey isn't all that popular in the UK and so Booth's lucky to have found a fellow fan. That said: I LOVE it. I was in D.C. over Christmas last year and was lucky enough to get tickets for the Caps v Pens. It was definitely one of the highlights of my trip. I've also seen the NY Rangers at MSG and watched the awesome Canucks when I visited Vancouver a couple of years ago. Hockey will never take the place of football in my heart, but it's a close second. :)

Also, for anyone interested, the pub mentioned in this chapter is real. It's located near Scotland Yard, and it was my 'local' for a couple of years when I worked in Westminster. Ah, good times!