Thanks for the reviews and feedback! I love reading your thoughts and comments, so keep 'em coming!
This chapter is a bit Sweets-heavy, but it's also more than half AU. We have a slight time jump, and the majority of the rest of the cases for this season won't be covered in great detail, with one or two exceptions. I actually decided to split the last chapter because it was over 9K words. So there will be 22 altogether. Can't believe it's almost over! *sniffle*
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Chapter 16
A few weeks after the start of the new year, Brennan found herself in their home office sorting through the documents in their safe. Enough time had lapsed since she had changed her insurance policies and advanced directives that her lawyer was requesting she review them. She didn't expect to have any changes to make, but she knew it was standard procedure.
As she pulled out the file folders, one in particular caught her attention, and she paused in the act of putting it aside. Booth had wanted to destroy her foster care file, but she hadn't allowed him to do so. She understood his perspective perfectly, especially since the information in that file wasn't something she ever wanted to see again. However, she felt that destroying it would be tantamount to pretending that those events hadn't happened. There were already too few people who believed in the truth of her story, and she simply couldn't bring herself to destroy the proof. It wasn't much in the way of vindication, but it was something tangible that she could hold onto.
Booth had paper-clipped a few things to the cover, the first of which being an amended list of her foster parents. The list was written in Booth's familiar handwriting, and she scanned the names with an odd feeling of detachment.
Anderson - No abuse - Both dead in car accident, 1998.
Carter - Neglect - Husband died of cancer; wife still alive in TX.
Hammel - Physical abuse, never prosecuted - Died Feb 2007 in house fire, COD presumed accidental.
Campbell - Physical abuse, never prosecuted - Died Feb 1996, COD presumed suicide by self-asphyxiation.
Roberts - Physical abuse, prosecuted - Died Aug 1996, COD presumed accidental due to falling down stairs while intoxicated.
Lewis - Emotional abuse - Both still alive in CA, no longer fostering.
Collins - No abuse - Both still alive in NY, two teenage children, no longer fostering.
Taylor - Physical abuse, never prosecuted - Died Mar 2007, COD apparent homicide, not enough evidence to pursue.
Edwards - Emotional abuse - Both still alive in WI, nothing suspicious, no longer fostering.
Brennan noticed that her husband hadn't written anything in regards to the details that made the four deaths suspicious, no doubt out of caution that the wrong eyes might someday read the list. She toyed with the idea of throwing it away, but after a few moments' consideration, she simply moved the list to the inside cover of the file. She had made her decision in regards to the deaths of her foster fathers, and she was content with it. Though she might never be able to place herself in Max's shoes, as Booth would say, she had a better understanding of the love that had driven him to take such drastic measures.
Her focus could now shift to Max's impending trial, which came with a host of concerns in and of itself. Booth had privately suggested that Max hire Caroline's ex-husband as his attorney, insisting that the man was very adept at humanizing the defendant, which is what her father would need. The fact that Booth would be forced to testify was something neither he nor his wife liked to think about, but she had promised that she would never hold it against him.
"I'm sorry, Bones," he'd said. "I tried to get Caroline to take me off the witness list, but the law doesn't offer leniency for family members of suspected criminals."
"It's not a conflict of interest? He's your father-in-law."
"It doesn't matter to the judge. I'll be under oath. That won't stop your dad's attorney from using our familial relationship to discredit me, but… This is probably the one time I won't mind being discredited." Brennan had frowned at his words.
"Well, I have a problem with it… But I guess I see your point. Just tell the truth. To do anything else would go against your character, and I'd never want you to do that. I know you sympathize with Max's actions, but you can't let that be a factor here. No matter what happens to Max, I won't hold it against you. You have to tell the truth."
"Of course I will, Bones," he'd assured her. "I just hate that it has to come to this."
She had agreed with him on that point, but there really wasn't anything they could do about the stickiness of this particular situation. As the arresting officer, Booth would be forced to testify against her father, and that testimony might very well lead to a conviction. Booth was somewhat worried that, in spite of his wife's assurances, she might still hold him responsible in some way if her father ended up on death row. Brennan, however, was of a different logic in that respect. If Max ended up with the death penalty, it would be due to his own actions. Regardless of his motives for killing Kirby, the simple fact was that he had broken the law, and he would be punished accordingly if found guilty.
Making peace with her father's potential death sentence was something she was struggling with. She had found it in her heart to forgive him for the things he'd done in the past, both to her and to others. She had let him back into her life, and now she was faced with the prospect of losing him forever. Brennan felt compelled to help in any way she could, but Max had changed his mind about having her testify on his behalf. She had gotten angry with him when he'd brought it up on one of her visits to the prison, and he now seemed determined that she would never set foot on the witness stand for his sake. Brennan hadn't given up on the argument, and she was more than a little confused by his change of heart.
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As January gave way to February and then to March, Booth and Brennan worked through their cases with their typical prodigious skill. Their partners' therapy sessions were still ongoing, though the irritation they'd both originally felt for Sweets had transitioned to a reserved tolerance. The young psychologist had offered his profiling skills on several more of their cases, and even Brennan had been forced to admit that his 'soft science' had worked in their favor more than once.
During the course of an investigation in mid-March, Booth had been forced to pursue an armed suspect on foot. He had forbidden Brennan to follow him, and although she had attempted to disobey him, he had moved too quickly for her to keep up. The long minutes she'd spent panicking about his safety had seemed like hours, and when Booth had finally returned to the SUV with the suspect in cuffs, Brennan's relief had nearly overwhelmed her to the point of tears. She'd managed to subdue her emotional response, utilizing her skills of compartmentalization until she was able to get a few minutes to herself. Before that could happen, unfortunately, they were due for a session with Sweets.
In the months since their first joint session, Sweets had been able to gain a modicum of trust from both partners. Although Booth still cracked jokes about his youth and Brennan continued to find his entire area of study to be a waste of time, they had at least come to respect his professional opinion most of the time. During their sessions, they had covered the basic gamut of issues that cropped up in typical partnerships, but it had also become even clearer to Sweets that their partnership was anything but typical.
When Booth and Brennan entered his office that evening, Sweets immediately picked up on a slight tension between them. They both looked exhausted, but Brennan also seemed to be avoiding eye contact with her husband. Sweets had become more adept at reading her expressions, and he knew instantly that something was troubling her.
"So I hear you guys closed another case today?" Sweets said, deciding to start with something simple. They both nodded but said nothing. "How did it go? Any major issues?"
"It went the way it always does, Sweets," Booth grunted, flexing his aching feet. Chasing down the suspect in the cold hadn't done him any favors. "We get a body, we figure out the clues, we catch the bad guy."
"So it was an easy arrest?" Sweets probed, already having heard otherwise from another agent.
"Well, not really, but you know… All in a day's work," he smirked. Brennan pursed her lips and remained silent.
"The suspect resisted arrest then, I take it?"
"Yeah, he gave me a good chase," he shrugged. "I got him in the end."
"I see. Dr. Brennan, were you there for the pursuit as well?"
"Not really," she replied stiffly, still avoiding Booth's gaze. He tilted his head in attempt to get a better look at his wife's expression, hearing the tension in her tone.
"Ah, Bones, don't be sour just because I wouldn't let you chase the guy. He had a gun."
"So did I," she retorted, finally turning to look at him.
"Yes, but it wasn't safe."
"That didn't stop you."
"Well, yeah, but it's my job."
"It's my job too."
"It's not the same, Bones. You know that," he said softly. Brennan snapped her jaw shut and turned to face forward again, her unspoken emotions causing the air between them to crackle. Sweets had been witness to more than one of their 'bickering' sessions, but this exchange was different.
"So… Maybe we need to talk about safety in the field?" he offered, attempting to suppress his satisfaction that they had finally presented him with a real issue to help them through.
"Maybe we need to talk about double standards," Brennan quipped. Booth pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Bones, we've talked about this. The guy with the badge and the gun goes first; you agreed to that."
"Yes, but I didn't agree to stay behind while you run off and risk your life. How am I supposed to be your partner if you leave me behind? How am I supposed to protect you?"
"How am I supposed to protect you if I'm sprinting after an armed suspect in the dark? How can I catch the guy if I'm more focused on making sure he doesn't turn around and shoot you?"
"Maybe you shouldn't be chasing armed suspects in the dark in the first place!"
"Okay," Sweets interrupted, partially to remind them that he was still in the room. As he expected, they both looked at him as though they were surprised to see him sitting across from them. "I'll address the double standard thing in a minute, but I'd like to first discuss the emotional part of this situation. Dr. Brennan, you're clearly upset, but it's more than that. You were frightened."
"Well, it's not like our jobs are all sunshine and rainbows, Sweets," Booth interjected, scowling.
"Agent Booth, I'd like to hear from Dr. Brennan right now. You'll get your turn." Sweets watched the agent's eyes shift back to his wife, and they waited for her to decide how to respond.
"Booth has a habit of rushing into dangerous situations," she said reluctantly.
"And that scares you?" Sweets prompted.
"Yes." Her admission was softly spoken, as if she were afraid that speaking up might release the tenuous hold she was keeping over her emotions. Booth wanted to reassure her, but the right words simply weren't coming to him at the moment. Sweets watched them both speculatively and recalled something from his first real discussion with Booth.
"When I first met Agent Booth, it was as a direct result to an incident in which he unintentionally injured himself in anger," Sweets said, speaking directly to Brennan. Her eyes flickered with the memory of discovering her husband robotically pummeling a punching bag in response to the horrible things he'd read about her childhood. "He told me that you were the one to stop him and see to his injuries. Were you frightened then as well?"
"Now wait just a goddamned minute," Booth interrupted angrily. "That's got nothing to do with our partnership, and I told you that before. I made it very clear that our marriage is not up for discussion."
"Agent Booth-"
"No, he's right," Brennan cut him off quickly, seeing a chance to escape the room. "We don't discuss our marriage, and you know that. We can talk about the field safety thing another time." She rose quickly from her seat and left the room at a near run. Booth was caught off guard by her quick departure, but he threw a disparaging look in Sweets' direction before following her.
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They didn't speak as they rode the elevator down to the parking garage and drove home, but Booth knew the conversation wasn't over. Sweets' insinuation that his actions had frightened his wife didn't sit with him any better than it had the first time, and the thought of causing her fear appalled him. As they prepared for bed in silence, the tension between them mounted until Booth couldn't stand it any longer. He stepped behind her at the bathroom counter and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face at the base of her neck. She relaxed into him but didn't speak.
"Bones… Please talk to me," he pled quietly. Their eyes met in the mirror. "Did Sweets have it right? Are you... afraid of me?" She immediately frowned at his choice of words and turned in his arms.
"I'm not afraid of you, Booth. But… I'm certainly afraid for you, more often than I think you realize," she told him hesitantly. She watched his face drop in regret. "Come on," she murmured, pulling him toward their bed.
Once they were settled beneath the blankets, they turned to face one another. Booth gazed at her sadly, his eyes tracing her moonlit features. Brennan laid her hand gently upon his face and stroked his stubbled cheek.
"I'm sorry, Bones," he whispered. She shook her head to silence him.
"I understand why you do the things you do. I know how much you put into your job, Booth. You're a man of action, and I've known that since the first time we worked together. I knew what I was getting into when I fell in love with you. I just…" she faltered, choosing her words carefully. "I don't like when your anger gets the best of you. Like injuring yourself on a punching bag or going after a gang leader with a loaded gun…"
"I'm sorry, baby. I'll try to do better," he promised.
"I know how much you try already, Booth. Especially since Epps. I'm not upset with you for it; I just want you to be more careful. I don't know that I could survive losing you." Her voice broke, and a tear slipped from her eye to her pillow. Booth pulled her closer and pressed his lips to her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, and finally her mouth.
"I don't ever want to do anything that might take me away from you, Bones. I can't stand the thought of not being with you. You're everything, baby."
Their lips connected again, more fervently than before. They moved as if they might devour one another, pressing their bodies tightly together as though they were attempting to occupy the same physical space. Their clothing was discarded in seconds, and the touch of skin on skin caused a tingling sensation that reached to their very toes.
Booth rolled her beneath him, moving his hands over the familiar landscape of his wife's body. He took in every beautiful inch of her, cherishing her as though she were the most perfect thing he'd ever seen...because she was. He held her in his arms with the same reverence he'd felt when holding his newborn son. She was precious to him, and he was desperate to show her the power of his love for her.
Brennan gasped brokenly as their bodies joined, and her brilliant blue eyes locked with his darkened gaze. She couldn't look away as they started to move together, their bodies dancing in time with one another until she couldn't tell where she ended and he began. The connection was so intense that she grew lightheaded, belatedly realizing that she'd been holding her breath.
He captured her mouth in another passionate kiss as they simultaneously came apart in each other's arms, and although Brennan knew it was impossible, she gained a new understanding of the notion that time could stand still. Booth felt as though their very souls had embraced one another, and his body continued to tremble long after he had slipped from her warmth.
They whispered words of love and promise in the darkness, cradling one another until they drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.
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Sweets tread very carefully during the next few sessions, choosing his words with more caution so as not to cross the boundary the partners had insisted upon. He knew, however, that they would have to reach some sort of compromise on that front. He could agree not to meddle, but their refusal to discuss their private lives at all wasn't conducive to the therapeutic process.
Booth and Brennan met with him early one morning in April after a very late night at a crime scene. Their victim had been found in a hot spring mud hole, and Brennan had insisted that the mud be sent to the lab with the body. It hadn't been a quick process by any means, and they were both running a little low on energy when they sat down in Sweets' office.
"Nice to see you again Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth," he greeted them politely. They nodded tolerantly, and Sweets took a hopeful breath before continuing. "I've been doing some evaluation in regards to the direction I think we need to be taking with your therapy, and I want to thank you for your continued cooperation in this process. That being said, I do feel that it's necessary to discuss some personal issues that may be affecting your professional lives-"
"Forget it," Booth interrupted.
"Agent Booth, even when I counsel partners who don't have a personal relationship, they're still expected to be willing to discuss their personal lives. I'm not asking you to betray any confidences that you have between one another, and I'm not going to psychoanalyze your marriage. I respect your boundaries, but I need for you both to meet me halfway." Sweets kept his tone firm but reasonable, and Booth expelled a sigh of irritation.
"He has a point, Booth," Brennan admitted ruefully. "It's unrealistic to expect special treatment simply because we have a romantic relationship."
"Thank you, Dr. Brennan," Sweets said sincerely. Booth merely shrugged in defeat, and Sweets took that as his cue to proceed. "Has your professional relationship been affected in any way by your romantic one? Or vice versa?" They both looked back at him with slightly perplexed expressions.
"Can you give an example?" Brennan asked, uncertain as to what he was really asking.
"Uh, let's say… Do you argue about work on personal time? Or about personal issues while you're working?"
"We don't argue," Brennan insisted.
"Right, sorry. Do you bicker?" he rephrased, stifling the urge to roll his eyes like the teenager they thought he was.
"Not really," Booth answered.
"The only thing we...discuss...that would fit your description would be his or my safety in the field," Brennan added. "Booth can be needlessly overprotective sometimes."
"Do I really need to remind you how many times you've been hurt since we got together?"
"It started even before we were together, Booth. You were overprotective of me from our first case as partners."
"The doctor said you shouldn't be alone with a concussion," he reminded her insistently. "You really thought I was gonna just leave you?" They continued to bicker back and forth, while Sweets watched with his chin in his hand. When at last they paused to breath, he took the opportunity to speak up.
"You guys argue all the time," he stated, almost as if he were speaking to himself.
"We don't argue," they said in unison.
"Yeah, okay, my mistake," Sweets said in surrender. "I have a new idea. I want to see you in a social situation. A situation where work is a taboo subject."
"What? Are you gonna send us to a restaurant and watch us through a one-way mirror?" Booth smirked.
"As long as I don't have to eat pie," Brennan replied.
"You really should give it a chance," Booth replied, taking the bait predictably.
"I find it too sweet."
"Actually," Sweets cut in, "I was thinking more along the lines of an evening with my girlfriend and me."
"They need someone to buy them beer," Booth chuckled.
"Like a double date? Why?" Brennan asked. "You're assessing our partnership, not our marriage. Our marriage is none of your business."
"I know that," Sweets agreed patiently. "But I also know that it would be exceedingly difficult for two people such as yourselves to keep the two completely separate. Problems in one area will bleed through to the other in either direction."
"So you think we have problems?" Brennan frowned.
"Not necessarily, but it would be helpful to see your interactions in both settings." When both partners still looked skeptical, Sweets decided to dangle a carrot. "It could give me the reassurance I need to make a favorable report to Deputy Director Cullen…"
Booth and Brennan shared a loaded glance and reluctantly agreed to meet up with him and his girlfriend on the following Wednesday evening.
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The body in the hot springs turned out to be that of a motorcycle racer named Tripp Goddard. He had died roughly two weeks before the discovery of his body, and in addition to the typical injuries sustained by motorcyclists, his bones showed evidence of extreme blunt force trauma to the back of the skull. The first day of suspect interviews went fairly smoothly, apart from the victim's professional rival asking Brennan for a date. Booth glowered at him and refused on his wife's behalf.
Their first visit to the victim's automotive garage didn't turn up anything but a list of suspects. However, when they returned the following day, they found evidence of blood that someone had tried to clean up with toluene. It was a common enough chemical in a mechanic's shop, but it had the effect of preserving the blood evidence well enough that DNA could be obtained.
While they waited for the warrant to be issued, Booth and Brennan went to the test track in the hopes of narrowing down their suspect pool. They arrived just in time to see the victim's rival, Danny Fitz, take off around the track on Tripp Goddard's bike. Danny's father had been Tripp's team manager, and it appeared that Danny was now next in line to take Tripp's place on the track. Unfortunately, as Danny neared the completion of his first circuit, the bike malfunctioned, causing a horrific accident that claimed the man's life. His father and sister watched in shock as the motorcycle burst into flames, Danny along with it. A thorough investigation of the bike revealed that one of the rotors had been tampered with, causing the motorcycle to malfunction.
Once Booth and Brennan wrapped things up at the test track, they met up with Sweets and his girlfriend April. Much to Booth's dismay, they were joining the younger couple at their Wednesday evening pottery class. Generally speaking, Booth wasn't a particularly crafty person, but he did have some experience with this particular hobby. His army psychiatrists had prescribed a multitude of different therapies when he'd been struggling with his PTSD, and sculpting had been one of them. It wasn't exactly something he went around talking about, however, and he was pretty sure that not even his wife knew about it.
"Dr. Sweets says you work with tropical fish," Brennan said politely to April. The young woman's eyes lit up and her thick curly hair bounced a little as she nodded.
"Yes! I love fish. They're just like people," she replied happily. Brennan frowned in confusion.
"No… No, they're not, actually. People can't breathe underwater."
"She's funny," April told Booth, clearly under the impression that Brennan was joking. Booth chuckled and glanced at his wife's baffled expression.
"I don't think she meant that literally, Bones."
"Oh."
"It's their eyes," April clarified. "You can tell so much from eyes. You can see their little souls."
"You believe that fish have souls?" Brennan asked incredulously.
"Yes. You can see it in their coloring; it's a reflection of who they are."
"Their coloring has developed over millennia as a way to deal with predators."
"April just means they're beautiful," Sweets interjected, clearly nervous that his girlfriend was on her way to a bruised ego at the hands of Brennan's scientific perspective. Unfortunately, his uninvited assistance only served to irritate April.
"Don't tell me what I mean, Lance. I mean they have souls." Her sweet, cheery demeanor was gone, and she was scowling down at the clay vase she was throwing.
"Ah… okay," Sweets mumbled uncomfortably. Booth winced in pity for Sweets and attempted to pull the conversation in a safer direction.
"Hey, look what I'm making," he said with exaggerated enthusiasm. His sculpture of a horse was turning out better than he'd expected, and he actually was a little proud of it.
"You've done this before," Brennan declared in surprise.
"Nah…"
"You have," she insisted.
"You really think that's good?" he asked, sounding like a little boy seeking approval.
"Yes, very." She smiled at him and leaned over for a quick kiss.
Sweets attempted to compliment his girlfriend's vase, but she was still irritated from their previous argument. Booth and Brennan fell into an awkward silence as Sweets and April argued. When Booth eventually finished his sculpture, he held it up proudly and pretended to make it gallop through the air.
A stray piece of clay fell into his lap, and like the goof he was, he chucked it at his wife. It sailed straight into her cleavage, and she gasped in surprise. Within seconds they were taking turns pelting each other with half-dried clay, giggling like school children. Sweets smiled to see them being so playful, but when he made the mistake of trying to include April in a similar game, she tossed a handful of wet clay right in his face. Booth and Brennan excused themselves fairly quickly after that awkward moment. As he opened the door for Brennan, he leaned down to whisper in her ear.
"Pretty sure he won't be getting any tonight."
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Locating the murder weapon, a chrome pry bar from the victim's truck, turned out to be the key to solving their case. Forensic evidence proved that the killer had most likely been a woman, and when they interrogated the woman closest to both victims, Booth could read her guilt easily. Phillipa Fitz was the daughter of the team manager and the twin sister of Danny Fitz. She had tampered with Tripp Goddard's bike, but that hadn't killed him. She then resorted to a direct physical attack and dumped his body in the hot springs. Unfortunately, her actions had the unforeseen consequence of the death of her brother when he rode Tripp's bike.
Equally unfortunate was the fact that she most likely wouldn't be convicted of either crime. Her lawyer pointed out the multiple factors he could use to prove reasonable doubt, and Booth reluctantly admitted that the man was most likely correct. However, that didn't stop him from arresting her and charging her with both murders so that at least her family and friends would know what she'd done.
It had been quite a while since the last time Booth and Brennan felt disappointed rather than satisfied at the end of a case. Booth in particular felt drained, and though it was nearing the end of their workday, he made a stop in the breakroom for a cup of coffee after they left the interrogation room.
"You're voluntarily drinking Bureau coffee?" Brennan asked, only half kidding. The stuff was utterly disgusting.
"Yeah, well I don't see the government springing for any of that fancy stuff you guys get at the lab any time soon," he shrugged. She watched him wince a little at the first sip and noticed the somewhat uncharacteristic droop in his shoulders.
"I'm sorry the case turned out that way," she told him softly. He gave her a weak smile.
"It happens. You never know; maybe she'll get a jury that will be able to see the truth." Booth's eyes swept over her, seeing his own disappointment mirrored in her features. "Hey, let's go out tonight. We could go bowling or something."
"Bowling?"
"Yeah, we'll have fun. I was thinking we'd be doing something like that rather than the pottery thing anyway, and now I really want to go." His happy smile was back in place, and Brennan couldn't help but return it.
"I'm… not very good at bowling," she warned him.
"Well, maybe you just haven't had the right teacher," he grinned, sidling up to her suggestively. Before Brennan could respond, Sweets shuffled into the room. He seemed to be focused on his shoes and didn't look at them as he entered. His expression was somber and forlorn.
"Someone run over your dog?" Booth asked lightly. His voice lacked the tone of derision he usually adopted when teasing Sweets. The younger man looked up in surprise, almost as though he hadn't realized where is wandering feet had taken him.
"Oh, hi guys. I didn't see you there," Sweets mumbled. Booth and Brennan exchanged a knowing glance.
"April dump you?" Booth guessed. Neither he nor his wife were surprised, particularly since April had shown up at Brennan's office earlier that day to complain about Sweets. She had described their relationship in terms of tropical fish-related metaphors, but even Brennan had been able to comprehend that April felt she and Sweets were incompatible.
"I'm a trained psychologist," Sweets sighed. "I mean, I saw this coming. It's not like the signs eluded me. So I prepared myself mentally for it, and…"
"Hey, Sweets," Booth said, making a quick decision. "Bones and I, we're going bowling tonight. You should come with us." Brennan looked at him in surprise but quickly played along.
"Yes, bowling. You should come with us to the bowling rink," she said with exaggerated enthusiasm.
"Alley," Booth corrected.
"Bowling alley."
Sweets was even more stunned than Brennan by the unexpected invitation, but try as he might, he couldn't find a good reason to decline. He drove separately and met them at a bowling alley nearby, offering to cover the pizza they planned on having for dinner as a way of thanks for letting him tag along. His sour mood began to dissipate as he watched Booth and Brennan interact. Although he'd seen them enjoying themselves at the pottery class, his attention had been focused on his ongoing spat with April. He observed them now with a half smile playing about his lips, taking mental notes that he would jot down later.
Unfortunately for her competitive nature, Brennan turned out to be a terrible bowler. Booth made a show of instructing her, but his covert attempts at getting fresh with his wife didn't escape Sweets' notice. They seemed to bicker every bit as much as he'd seen them do during their sessions, but it was good-natured and flirtatious. In fact, Sweets thought it was a kind of verbal foreplay for them. With every snarky comment or teasing remark, the two became a little more physically affectionate, and by the end of the evening, Sweets felt rather like a kid who was embarrassed because his parents were making out in public.
Though they were very absorbed in one another, they did make great efforts to include him in their discussions. Booth reassured him that he was young and would eventually find the person he was meant to be with. Brennan commiserated with him over his ex-girlfriend's views on animals, agreeing with him that the idea of fish being sentient was ridiculous. The three of them interacted as a group of friends enjoying an evening out rather than a therapist and his clients.
By the end of the evening, Sweets felt remarkably more optimistic about his future love life as well as his clients' therapeutic process. It was clear to him that both their professional and personal relationships were built on solid foundations, and he really couldn't find a reason to keep them in therapy any longer. He hoped that the tentative friendship he'd formed with them would continue to grow, especially now that they had no reason to be concerned about their partnership. He also hoped that they would continue to come to him when they needed a profiler. For all the teasing and obstinance, Sweets had come to enjoy the time he'd spent with them professionally.
"Okay, so…" Sweets began, getting their attention as they walked out to their vehicles. They looked at him curiously. "I think we can end your partners' therapy at this point. If something new comes up, I'm always available to help, but I don't think regular sessions are necessary."
"Really?" Brennan asked, pleasantly surprised at the news. Booth looked positively elated.
"Thanks, Sweets," he grinned, pounding him on the shoulder with an open palm. Brennan stifled a chuckle when Sweets staggered a bit.
"Don't mention it," Sweets nodded. They began to walk again, but he felt the urge to add something. "Dr. Brennan, could I have a moment?" They both turned to look at him again, and their smiles slipped a little. "It'll only take a second," Sweets said, smiling reassuringly.
"Um, sure. I'll be right there, Booth." Her husband gave a half shrug and continued toward the SUV.
"Dr. Brennan, like I said, I'm always available if the two of you ever need my help in your partnership, but I wanted to add that… I know your father's trial is coming up soon, and I'm sure that it's a lot to deal with emotionally. If you ever need to talk or get anything off your chest, I'm happy to help. Even if it's just as a friend."
"Oh," she frowned, looking awkwardly at the pavement. "Um, thank you. I doubt it will be necessary, but it's nice of you to offer."
"You're welcome," Sweets nodded. "Thanks for letting me tag along. It was nice to be around friends after…" He trailed off, not wanting to articulate the fact that he'd been dumped. Brennan was slightly taken aback at the label he'd given them, but she didn't argue. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.
"What was that all about?" Booth asked her as she climbed into the SUV.
"He thinks I might need help dealing with things regarding Max's trial," Brennan replied stiffly.
"He wants to shrink you on personal matters?" Booth wasn't entirely sure it was a bad idea, but he decided to proceed with caution.
"Not necessarily. He said it could just be as a friend too."
"A friend?"
"Yeah, he also said that it was nice to be around friends this evening after being dumped. Is that what we are? I didn't really know how to respond…"
"Well, I probably wouldn't have put it that way, but maybe he's trying to tell us something."
"Like what?"
"Like maybe he wants to be our friend. He hasn't lived here that long; maybe he doesn't have many." As Booth drove them home, he considered it further, and he became increasingly more certain that he was correct in his assessment.
"So… he's lonely?" Brennan asked, regaining his attention.
"Maybe."
"Hmm. Maybe we should invite him out for dinner or lunch… or even have him over for dinner at home."
Booth grimaced inwardly at the thought of spending any more time with the kid than necessary, but he couldn't help but smile at his wife's suggestion. If she wanted to them to be Sweets' friends, then Booth would do his best to oblige. After all, he'd managed to enjoy himself in spite of Sweets' presence on both evenings they'd spent with him.
Maybe he won't be quite as annoying if he's not our shrink…
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How are we feeling about Sweets this time around? S3 Sweets was easy to laugh at, but hard to like. Hopefully I improved him at least a little bit. I'll be posting a chapter every other day until the end!
Review and have a fantastic weekend!