Author Note: Thank you to those who left reviews or messages. They meant more to me than I expected them to. If anyone has a better idea for the genre, I'm welcome to suggestions. I am also curious on reader preferences: do you appreciate this double POV per chapter? Or would you rather each POV per month get its own chapter?

Also, everyone seems to include the disclaimer that the characters are not their own. Some fantastically creative people in Charlotte, NC/Montreal and Hollywood get that credit and my thanks for giving me many sleepless nights, anxious for completely fictional "people".This disclaimer applies to all chapters so I don't waste everyone's time.

August 2004

"Shit". Booth mumbled to himself as he rested his head in one hand leaning on the bar, while his other rolled his lucky poker chip between his fingers. "Shit, shit, shit." He knew. Damn it, he knew and Pops was right. He didn't deserve her. He had met 'the one', he had kissed 'the one', and he had somehow pissed off 'the one'.

Everything she spat at him before she stormed out of the FBI headquarters had been true, at least on some level. He did use his badge and gun to intimidate, but only suspects and assholes, never a woman. Normally, the bravado was a huge turn-ON for women. Why was she pissed? She could hold it over his head that she solved the murder instead of him. He couldn't have intimidated her, could he? I mean, c'mon! She just kissed me the other night.

Man that was a damn good kiss. He closed his eyes, a hint of a smile touching his lips briefly as he remembered the last time he walked out of that same bar. He opened his eyes, tossed back the last of his beer and ordered a second. That kiss. This was serious. He needed more of those kisses, he needed her.

He had to figure out how to get her to forgive him. Which would require him to figure out why she was so angry with first, he needed to show he deserved her: he needed to get his gambling addiction under control.

The bartender delivered his drink as Caroline Julian arrived and recognized his slumped shoulders from behind.

"That does not look like the face of a man who just caught a cold case murderer, a judge no less!"

"Hrmph" He gave her a sideways glance as she approached before turning back to his beer. He was not in the mood for company, even if it was Caroline.

Caroline's eyebrows quirked, rather taken aback at his lack of enthusiasm. "How are you not happy, cher? I hear there's a possible promotion in it for you. It's about damn time, too."

"Yeah, yeah, it's great." He glowered at his poker chip as he continued fidgeting with it between his hands. He had more important things on his mind than how to charm Caroline this evening. "How'd you know I'd be here?"

"You are as predictable as you are loyal." Caroline sat on the stool next to Booth and set her briefcase on top of the bar before admitting, "Agent Burns told me you come here after wrapping up a case. Though he said you normally go with the whole team. Where's the team?" Caroline looked around for Dr. Brennan or the flaky artist or anyone else who looked like they belonged in a lab.

"Remind me to thank Charlie for that," Booth grumbled to himself before addressing Caroline. "I am not going to go out for drinks with a bunch of nerdy squints." There was no way he'd choose to surround himself with a group of intellectuals who would spend the entire evening talking over his head.

A grumpy Booth was turning the attorney into a disgruntled Caroline. "Suit yourself. No need to get quarrelsome at me just because…"

"She's pissed at me, ok?" Booth spun to look at her as he cut her off midsentence, highly unlike him when it came to the intimidating woman next to him.

"And she's the only person who's ever had a beef with you?" Caroline sassed back. She may have a soft spot for the agent but she did not care to take the brunt of his nasty attitude.

"No, but…"Booth sighed heavily. He was not going to admit that he had a thing for the anthropologist. Not to Caroline, not to anyone. It was bad enough everyone had found out when Rebecca had rejected him. He was not going to set himself up for another round of gloating pity if the charming agent was humiliated again.

Caroline allowed him a few moments to gather his thoughts before prodding, "But what?"

"Nothing. Just nothing." He gave a small shake of the head and went back to nursing his beer. Booth couldn't get the anthropologist out of his mind. Setting the drink down, he cradled the bottle in his hands choosing his words carefully before he turned towards Caroline. "It's just… Bones… she's just so smart. I mean, stupid smart. We never would have gotten Hasty without her."

"So that's what this is about. Did your ego take a hit when you needed someone else? Pull on your big boy pants, Seeley, because it won't be the last time you'll need someone's help." Her pursed lips told him that if he argued, he was in for a verbal smack down.

Turning back to the bar, he rubbed his cheek where she had slapped him. "I took a hit alright."

"She hit you? Did you take her in for assaulting a federal officer? Is that why she's angry with you?" Caroline knew he could take care of himself, but anyone assaulting law enforcement made her blood boil.

"No." He surprised both of them with the force of his voice. Fearing he was going to give himself away, he played it cool. "I've gotten hit worse before. Plus, if I arrested her, then she'd really never work with me again."

Caroline eyed him suspiciously. "Good. Just think how that would look when we go to trial and my arresting agent has a restraining order against my forensic expert. Which leads me to why I was coming to find you. Mr. Hasty was arraigned in court today. So far he has chosen to waive his right to a speedy trial. Court date will likely be set late fall or early winter. Guess his defense needs as much time as they can get to try to find their reasonable doubt."

"That won't happen. Bones' evidence is airtight." For not knowing this woman for long, he trusted her skills more than he had dared trust anyone else on a case before.

"You know that and I know that. Just have to give them time to figure it out for themselves. They think they'll find something and get a lesser charge. We might get a plea bargain out of him, yet." Caroline paused, she was still baffled by his earlier comments. "What do you mean really never work with you again? Why do you care so much what she and a bunch of boring scientists think anyway?" She could think of two reasons her favorite agent would care, but only one had any effect on her own life. Caroline wanted Dr. Brennan in her corner as well, as tactless as the woman was, it was plain to see how valuable she would be to solving cases and providing indisputable proof in court.

Still choosing his words carefully lest he slip up, he responded deliberately. "Yeah well, like I said, she was the only reason we got Hasty and I don't know why she's so pissed at me."

Booth drained his second beer as Caroline stood up and pulled her briefcase down. "Don't you worry, cher. No one can stay mad at your pretty face for too long. I've got to go, but make sure you take a cab if you keep going at those beers the way you have been."

With a smirk, he stood and pulled a few bills from his wallet while attempting a feeble joke, "Nah, this is my last one. Can't be showing up at my first Gambler's Anonymous meeting hammered or they'll think I'm at the wrong meeting."

Caroline was unamused. "Mmhmmm. Well, I don't know what finally got you to pull your head out of your derriere, but I'm glad you're getting your act together. Have a good meeting." She hoped he would be able to stay away from the tables. Heaven only knew how badly hurt he'd end up if he continued gambling.

"Goodnight Caroline." Booth opened the door for her and they parted on the sidewalk.

Relieved that Caroline couldn't read him as well as his grandfather could, Booth shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged down the street toward his meeting. Pops was right. Damnit, why didn't I believe him?! He was going to deserve her. He'd prove it if it took a decade.

Angela was the first to crawl out of her office, scanning her badge to join Zach on the platform where he was absorbed in the examination of an unidentified skeleton for his boss.

She stood next to the assistant for a few moments, trying to discretely peer down into Brennan's office windows from the platform. Keeping her eyes below, she leaned toward the young man to ask, "Does she get like this often?"

Without raising his head, Zach posited, "If by that you mean have I witnessed this behavior more than once? No."

"Any idea what she's angry about?" The artist tried to entice Zach into some gossip, but still his eyes remained glued to a bone he was analyzing under a magnifying glass.

"I'm a scientist, I don't speculate. If you want to know, why don't you just ask her?"

"You don't just go up to a person and ask them, 'hey, why are you pissed off?'" Hodgins ambled out from his office grumpily, swiping his badge up the steps to use the higher powered microscopes available on the platform. Angela smirked in agreement.

"Why not?"

Hodgins looked at him incredulously as he set down his tray of slides and crossed his arms. "You don't have much experience with women, do you?"

Zach finally looked up to face the other two though he still held the scapula with both hands. "I have plenty of experience with women. There's Naomi from paleontology, I have four sisters not to mention my mother; however, I don't understand them at all and they think I'm weird." His face contorted as he internally processed the thought.

"I don't think anyone understands you." Jack Hodgins sat on the stool at the microscope and began his prep.

"Don't listen to him Zach." Angela patted the younger man's shoulder as she shot Jack a warning sidelong glance. "I'm learning you have to be at least a little weird to fit in here."

Looking in the microscope, Hodgins suggested, "You're a woman, why don't you talk to her?" This new woman may be hot, but she was annoying him right now, taking Zach's side.

"You've known Brennan longer." Angela argued back, crossing her arms in defiance.

"We've worked together longer!" Jack's head popped up, raising his voice and putting his hands on his hips in exasperation. Shaking his head he went back to work as he continued ranting, "That doesn't mean we talk. At least not about anything more than ancient remains and spores."

"We've also talked about putrefaction, pollen and larvae." Three heads shot around to face a stormy Dr. Brennan. Silence ensued, fearful she had heard them discussing her temperament, until she explained curtly. "I heard my name. Who needed to talk to me?" Her eyes were irritated and her lips pressed in a thin line: her earlier foul mood had definitely not dissipated.

Zach was the first to move and speak. "I did. I see radiating fractures on the left scapula as well as fractures along ribs two through five indicative of a high fall. However, there are some marks on the skull I cannot identify that are not congruent to the other fractures. They look like pitting but the pattern is nothing I recognize." Brennan had moved to join him next to the magnifying glass as she pulled on a pair of gloves, already a new habit.

She took the skull from Zach's hands and looked closely before remarking, "Those markings are from the person's hair plugs. If you are suspecting a high fall, please check the lower extremities for hairline fractures as well."

"Yes, Dr. Brennan," and the assistant immediately was lost in concentration on the bones in front of him again.

Snapping off her gloves, she began to march brusquely back toward her office.

Angela took a risk, following her a few steps, stopping her with, "Sweetie, are you alright? You seem very… angry. You were like this when you came in, too."

"I'm fine Angela." Brennan tried to fix her features to appear more pleasant but never made it better than apathy.

"You're a little scary when you're 'fine'." Angela's eyebrows were high and eyes wide. "Come find me if you decide you want to talk about whatever it is with a friend." She patted her friend's arm and started slowly gliding away.

"Booth grabbed my arm and pushed me out of the room while we were talking to the victim's mother." It spilled out unintentionally. Her fists clenched at the memory. "He said… you know what, it doesn't matter what he said. He's lucky I only slapped him, I could have knocked him to the ground if I'd wanted to. I am never working with that jackass again."

The artist's jaw hung open, the image of her petite friend being violent shocking her into silence.

Jack ended the silence with indignant whining. "No more homicide investigations? Come on, Dr. Brennan, think of the rest of us."

"Says the one who was not hit with a bat." Zach interjected from behind his magnifier.

"Dr. Hodgins, your job is identifying pollen, spores, insects and dirt for the Jeffersonian." Brennan used her best boss voice to remind the man of his role at the museum.

"Soil." Hodgins stood up to face his boss, matching her in anger. "How many times do I have to repeat myself? It's not dirt, it's SOIL."

"Attitude Dr. Hodgins. Our job is not solving murders. If you'd prefer that, go apply for a job at the FBI."

Jack Hodgins scowled, retreating back to his office, snapping the rubber band around his wrist along the way, forgetting entirely about his slides at the microscope.

The women watched him off the platform before Brennan charged off to her office. Angela took a deep breath to steel her resolve, and followed her to her office.

"So…" she alerted the scientist to her presence. "Rough morning? She stood next to the desk waiting patiently for a reply.

Keeping her eyes on her computer monitor she finally responded after an awkward length of time. "Ange, I would really prefer not to talk about it."

"Sweetie, you are so stressed. Even I can see it and I barely know you." The concern on her face melted away as she got an idea. "Come clubbing with me tomorrow night! I know this great place where the beer is cheap and the music is loud. We'll meet some guys, maybe get a little action. It'll make all your stress fly away." She leaned on the arm of a chair hopefully.

"I don't know about a club. Most of those places don't open until I want to go to bed. Though…" Brennan's words trailed off as she began searching her desk.

Disappointed, Angela was curious nonetheless and had to ask, "What are you looking for Bren?"

"Aha!" She held a business card up in triumph. "You're right, I need a date," and without further explanation, picked up her phone receiver and dialed the phone number from the card.

"Dr. Holgate, this is Dr. Brennan."… "I have been better."… "The reason I'm calling is I've decided to accept your offer for a date."… "My calendar is pretty full. Why don't you e-mail me the optional dates and I will get back to you."… "Thank you. See you then." She turned to her screen and began working again immediately.

Angela's mouth hung open and she blinked a few times, flabbergasted at Brennan's method of accepting a date. "What the hell was that? No flirting, no small talk. It was almost like a business transaction!"

Eyes never leaving her work, the scientist responded, "Anthropologically speaking, relationships…"

"No anthropological whatever. Who was that anyway?" Angela smirked and shifted her body to lean over the desk conspiratorially.

"Dr. Peter Holgate. He's a physicist I met at a speaking engagement a few weeks ago. He's been asking me out repeatedly and I just now decided to accept. Thank you for the good advice Angela." Brennan gave her friend a brief small smile.

"Not quite sure why, but you're welcome?" Angela faltered before shuffling sideways out the door, back towards her new office. At least Brennan's mood had improved.