A/N: Thank you, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read these. I love feedback. And to 554Laura, I've decided you are quite a lovely person and everyone should know it.
November 2004
Booth stepped confidently through the double doors into the Jeffersonian Museum's welcome center currently masquerading as a ballroom for a donor/scientist meet and greet cocktail party.
Ever the bureaucrat, Dr. Goodman had invited Booth to regale the attendees with the tale of how the Jeffersonian had teamed with the FBI in a murder investigation in an attempt to impress the donors and maybe loosen their purse-strings a little more.
The agent was of a mind to skip the event. Schmoozing hoity-toits hit near the top of his list of undesirable evening activities, but Bones was going to be there. He agreed to put in an appearance though, privately, a chance to see and talk to her was his one and only reason for accepting. She would be there and wouldn't be able to avoid him, and in a room full of her benefactors, she wouldn't make too much of a scene either.
Dressed in his standard FBI-issue black suit made complete with his flashiest classy red striped tie, Booth scanned the room, searching among the upper crust for an auburn head he'd been trying to reach for three months.
"Agent Booth," the deep baritone voice called him out of his concentration, "I'm glad you could make it."
"Dr. Goodman." Booth greeted the museum director. The two men shook hands though the agent only met the PhD's eyes briefly before he continued scanning the crowd behind the other man's head. "Do you know where I'll find Bo-, Dr. Brennan tonight?"
"I don't believe she's here yet. She had a lecture engagement at her University this afternoon and said she would likely be late."
Booth nodded in response while the director surveyed his party. "Not as many of our bigger donors were able to attend this year. Perhaps next year I shall turn the event into a formal gala or banquet."
The agent had no response, standing with his hands in his pockets while the natural pause in conversation turned to awkward silence between the two men.
Dr. Goodman broke the discomfort, "I believe you've met Angela Montenegro before." The archaeologist waved the brunette woman over from a conversation she had just finished with a small group of octogenarians. "She can introduce you to some of our younger patrons who will be most interested in our recent partnership with you. If you'll excuse me, I see someone I need to greet." He was walking away before the agent could respond.
Angela arrived while watching Dr. Goodman's retreating form. "I hope he meant for me to come talk to you and not follow him around. Good to see you again Agent Booth. Nice tie," and she flashed him her brightest smile. It was no punishment to stand next to the gorgeous man and a reprieve to escape the dull conversations the room held.
He smirked in return, grateful Goodman had reminded him of the pretty woman's name. "Nice to see you, Angela. I came to apologize to Temperance but I hear she won't be here until later. Care to join me at the bar?"
"You know I'd love to, but I'm on the clock right now, gettin' paid to socialize with these people. I'm probably too new to risk getting shitfaced in front of my boss," she laughed easily. Constantly searching the room for the bigwigs she had been counselled to chat up, she spotted some VIPs. "I have to go say hello to the Grants but I'll try to stop by again in a bit."
Booth nodded in understanding. "Open bar?"
"Nothing but the best," Angela replied with a sing-song voice as she began to walk away. Before she got too far, she turned, squinting her eyes at the agent and warned him, "Bren probably won't talk to you, even when she does get here." Then spinning back on her heel, she strode away before the agent could ask why.
Deciding to ignore her caution for the time being, he shuffled through the throngs to reach the bar. He ordered a whiskey on the rocks – if he was going to be there, he was taking advantage of the free liquor – then turned to survey the room. A string quartet played softly to one side of the ballroom while the perimeter had high top tables scattered about. Completing the scene were four display cases from various Jeffersonian exhibits, carted in for the event.
The crowd at the bar encouraged his movement to one of the high tables where he stationed himself with a clear view of the entrance, waiting for one forensic anthropologist.
His ice slowly watered down the drink, but he continued staring, practically willing her to come waltzing through the doors.
"And what got you interested in the work of the Jeffersonian, handsome?" A twang drawled at his side as a tanned, weathered hand rested on his forearm, disturbing him out of his intent focus.
"Beg pardon?" Booth pulled his arm away gently and turned his head to politely address a middle aged woman wearing clothing designed for someone twenty years younger.
She purred at his attention. "Not too many younger fellas like yourself here, not the thing for most of your generation, I suppose. I got interested because of my late husband's interest but now I find all of it just mesmerizing. Wanda Lyman." She stuck a bejeweled hand out.
"Special Agent Seeley Booth with the FBI." Shaking hands, Wanda's painted eyes went wide in awe as he continued, "The Jeffersonian Forensic Division assisted in a homicide investigation a few months back."
"How fascinating, the FBI. It must be dangerous work!" the dame gushed, touching his shoulder. "Tell me, what's the most dangerous situation you've found yourself in?"
The agent remained outwardly stoic, though internally he bristled. This woman was obviously looking for story time, a tale to entertain and impress her friends with later. Civilly, he managed a practiced response, "Classified information Mrs. Lyman. If you'll excuse me, I think I see who I was waiting for." Booth walked with purpose to a darker corner, watched the woman begin monopolizing someone else's time, and inspected the room once more for Bones.
Not wanting to be caught by another lonely woman in conversation, Booth sauntered to the display case closest to him to inspect some old coins found on a recent archaeological dig while still keeping an eye on the entrance.
Angela found him a short while later bent over the glass cover, a crease of confusion between his brows.
Before she could announce her presence, he spoke. "I don't get why people care so much about old scraps of metal."
Angela stood erect, in surprise that he had noticed her arrival, but relaxed once more as she smirked. "Something about how it proved something that some group of people somewhere did something else. I don't know, I just helped with the rendering of what those 'scraps of metal' would have looked like before being buried for thousands of years." The artist pointed proudly to the printed image in the case.
"You did that?" Seeley Booth was impressed. "You must have gotten a fancy computer then."
Angela smiled broadly. "Had to. Caroline Julian demanded Dr. Goodman get me only the best to prepare for the Hasty case." She sobered as she remembered her real purpose in approaching Booth. "Anyway, I didn't get to finish before. You do know Brennan is still pretty mad at you, right? Word is, you manhandled her – and she does not like to be pushed." Looking him in the eye, she implored, "Can't you just leave well enough alone for tonight? She hates these things as it is."
"If she would take my calls, I wouldn't have to be here." He paused as Angela's eyebrows raised suspecting something. Rationalizing, he went on, "Strictly business. Keep things friendly between the FBI and the Jeffersonian, there's interest in collaborating again in the future."
"Suit yourself, G-man," she warned, doubt showing on her face. "Look, I have to keep mingling. Dr. Goodman is looking over here, but maybe I'll see you later. I can promise you though, Bren is going to avoid you tonight." With only an accusatory glance behind her, she sashayed away.
Booth bent back over the case, focusing this time on the image Angela pointed out, showing the coins in all their detailed, colorful splendor. "That's actually pretty amazing," Booth muttered to himself. Caroline was going to be very pleased with the artist's computer imaging skills.
"What are you doing here?" Zach Addy suddenly stood across the display case from the agent, his brown suit hanging off his frame. The juxtaposition of their appearances served only to make the one look more masculine and the other more juvenile.
"Dr. Goodman invited me to do your job sucking up to these people for more donations," Booth scorned the young man. "Besides, I need to talk to Bones." His eyes pretended to be interested in the scraps of metal.
"She doesn't want to see you. She thinks you are, and I quote, a jackass. You should leave."
"I don't care what she thinks of me." There was a whopper of a lie. "I'm not leaving. I need to talk to her about the Hasty trial."
Mr. Addy never let his eyes leave Booth despite the intimidation he felt. "Whatever additional evidence you need, you can get from me."
The agent stood, squaring his shoulders. "This isn't about the evidence, this is about the trial," Booth spoke to the young man with a forced calm, as if he were a small child. "Are you the lead forensic witness? No? I didn't think so. That would be Dr. Brennan so I'm going to talk to her."
Her assistant's demeanor was visibly uncomfortable but he stood his ground. "Then you should have Ms. Julian contact her directly."
"No thanks, I'll talk to her tonight."
"No you won't. She isn't coming."
"Dr. Goodman just said she'd be late."
"She was detained by a Q and A session after her lecture and will not be able to make it tonight," Zach stated in a practiced rhetoric. "Dr. Goodman doesn't know yet," he lied, hoping against hope that the agent couldn't tell.
Booth glowered at Zach, not trusting his words. After a brief pause, he conceded, "Fine. If that's how she's going to be," he drained his watery whiskey and set the glass on top of the display case. Pointing his finger in the grad student's face, he instructed, "Tell her to call me back or I'll be stopping by the lab with the case file."
He stalked towards the entrance and threw a backwards glance into the room once more, just in time to see the one and only Dr. Temperance Brennan slide into the room through a side door with Zach. He sighed in defeat and began playing with the poker chip in his pocket. She didn't like being pushed? Fine, he wouldn't push tonight. Hopefully his threat of a visit would get her to call at least.
Exiting the double doors, Booth bumped into a server, then left into the cool evening air, trying to think what about the trial he would talk to her about.
Dr. Brennan and Zach Addy entered the Jeffersonian through the employee parking garage and walked briskly towards her office. She had given a lecture on tool identification based on kerf marks and her student had come along to aid in her demonstration.
The donor's cocktail party ranked low on her list of priorities so she had been satisfied to stay longer to answer some additional questions for some curious undergrads.
"Mr. Addy, please go tell Dr. Goodman we have arrived. I need to change and I will be up momentarily."
"Right away, Dr. Brennan," and the eager-to-please assistant separated from her to take the ornate wooden staircase up and down the hall to the welcome center next door.
She continued to her office where her party dress was waiting. After changing in the restroom, she returned to substitute her utilitarian boots for some sensible pumps and found Angela, who had come down the moment she spied Zach, perched on the arm of her sofa.
"Hey sweetie, love the dress! How was your lecture?" The artist asked good-naturedly.
"It was fine. A couple undergraduate students had mildly thoughtful questions, hence my tardiness. Sorry I wasn't here to start your first fundraiser event."
Angela was full of smiles this evening. "No need to apologize, I like parties, though this is by far the most boring one I've ever been to. By the way, there's a hot FBI agent who has been waiting for you all night upstairs." She waggled her eyebrows at her friend, teasing. "I told him you're mad at him but he still wants to talk to you."
Brennan's jaw tightened instantly. "No Angela, it is bad enough making small talk with the benefactors tonight. I refuse to deal with Booth, too." She pushed past her friend to switch out her earrings.
"He says he wants to apologize."
She scoffed, "I don't think a sincere apology is in his character. I need you to convince him to leave."
They followed Zach's earlier path up the stairs while Angela balked. "Me? Why me? You're the one who has an issue with the guy."
"Why did Dr. Goodman have to invite him?" Brennan muttered to herself. "Maybe I can ask him to make Booth leave."
Her friend chuckled, "You know he won't do that. If he invited Booth, he's not going to kick him out for no other reason than you want him to."
They reached the side doors to the party room but Brennan stalled going in. "Fine, then I'll just scream 'pervert' if he tries talking to me so that Dr. Goodman has to make Booth leave, if he doesn't of his own accord."
Angela held the door shut to prevent Brennan's access. "Whoa, whoa, whoa there Bren. Do you want to lose your job, too? And if you're gone, I'm gone and I like this whole paycheck thing. Just… just give me a minute to come up with a better idea. One that won't get either of us fired."
Brennan pouted, "He wouldn't fire me, I'm too valuable," earning her a pointed look from her friend.
"Zach!" Angela snapped her fingers, "Be right back!" and was in the door alone and out again dragging Zach by the arm before Brennan could begin to follow her seemingly random thought process.
"I can't leave, I'm waiting to see Naomi from paleontology!" the young man whined as Angela dropped his arm.
"This will take two minutes then you can go back to being a wallflower. Bren here," Angela motioned towards their colleague, "wants Booth to leave and you, my friend, are the one who is going to do it."
Both stared at the artist incredulously before Zach responded, "How am I supposed to get a specially-trained, likely-armed FBI agent to leave?"
Angela rolled her eyes at the interruption and addressed both of them. "Booth told me he came because he wants to apologize but I'm willing to bet that man to man, there is no way he'll cop to it. I'm guessing he'll make up some other excuse about needing to talk about the Hasty trial or wanting help with a new case or something. Zach here can deter any excuse by intercepting any questions about the trial or volunteering to assist with any new case."
"I don't want to assist him with a case," Zach interrupted again.
"It's a ploy, Zach. He doesn't really want help with a new case." Angela didn't understand how for being so bright, he could be so clueless.
"But what if he still refuses to leave?" Brennan doubted this plan.
"Then just say she got caught up in a Q&A session after her lecture and won't make it tonight." The excuse rolled off her lips with zero thought.
Zach's eyes went wide at the suggestion of lying to the federal agent. "But that isn't the truth."
"I agree with Zach, Angela. He can't lie to him, even if he is a jackass."
Angela looked at the ceiling, exasperated. "It was the truth. He doesn't have to know it ended. Besides, a lie would be better than you loudly making fake sex related claims during the fundraiser."
Both of the anthropologists looked at her as if she had two heads. Angela's lipped pressed into a thin line. "Fine, I will try hinting to him that he should leave. But if me being nice doesn't work, Zach is in. Got it?"
Two heads nodded in unison as the brunette reentered the room once more. Neither was surprised when she joined them a few minutes later, bacon-wrapped scallop in hand, shooing Zach in to work his awkward magic. She left Brennan alone to keep watch over the assistant's progress.
Brennan waited impatiently with her thoughts while serving staff bustled around with their trays. At least there's food and she helped herself to appetizers as they passed her in the hall.
"Dr. Brennan," Zach stuck his head into the hall once more, "The lie appears to have worked. Agent Booth is leaving."
The scientist squared her shoulders while finishing her bite, pleased to have won the day. Finally ready to explain and expound upon what she and her department did; ready to debate the importance of giving the unknown back their identities.
She slid into the room behind her assistant as he added, "He said to tell you to call him back or he'll stop by the lab."
She froze angrily, lips tightening in fury that he had found a way to get what he wanted, without even seeing her.
Angela rejoined them then with a message from Dr. Goodman for Dr. Brennan to join him. The ladies left Zach to find Naomi and made their way across the room to a high top table where her boss and three others chatted.
"Here she is, this is Dr. Temperance Brennan, the best forensic anthropologist there is," Dr. Goodman introduced her to the group, "Mr. and Mrs. Leonard Ruschi and Ms. Wanda Lyman".
She shook hands with the guests as a server stopped by with a glass of red wine for her. Confused by the drink she had never ordered, Dr. Brennan quietly told the server as much.
"I'm so sorry, this was meant for Dr. Temperance Brennan. I thought I heard that man introduce you by that name, my apologies." He moved to remove the glass from the table, but her hand over the top of the glass stopped him.
"I am, but I didn't order anything." The Ruschi couple had resumed their discussion with Dr. Goodman but Ms. Lyman watched the exchange intently.
The server, trying his best to be discreet responded, "A gentleman with a bright red tie requested it for you on his way out."
Angela's eyes went wide as she made the connection. She leaned over to share her inside knowledge with her friend, "Booth was wearing a red tie tonight."
The shock made Brennan seethe for the briefest moment before she forced a small smile to her lips and took a sip, effectively dismissing the server.
"Special Agent Seeley Booth?" the third woman had been eavesdropping. Without waiting for confirmation, she prattled on while Angela snuck away, "I met that nice man earlier tonight, though he was mighty distracted looking for someone. That someone must have been you." She winked at the scientist. "It's too bad he couldn't stick around, such a handsome man. That was so sweet of him to order for you. How long have you known each other?"
Brennan blinked in surprise at the woman's insinuation. "We, I… we worked together on a homicide investigation last August. Excuse me." She grabbed her wine glass and rudely abandoned Ms. Lyman searching out Angela at the bar.
"Wow, I'm impressed you got away from that one. I thought she was going to drone on… sorry I kind of abandoned you back there." Angela looked sheepish even if she wasn't really that sorry.
"You can make it up to me by telling Dr. Goodman I went home with a headache if he asks. I have to get out of here." She disappeared into the crowd before Angela could object.
Retracing her steps back to her office, Brennan worked herself into a rage, livid at the man who had once physically grabbed her arm and insulted her. And now tonight, had embarrassed her by ordering her a drink making people think things and forcing her to call him.
She sat at her computer, searching for his phone number. Once found, she pounded the numbers into her cell phone and listened to the ring. He was quick to answer.
"Booth."
"I have three doctorates, I can order my own drink thank you very much," she snapped into the phone.
On the other end, Booth sat up a little straighter in the back seat of the cab and smiled, "You're very welcome," purposely ignoring her sarcasm. He was shocked she'd called so soon.
"What do you want Booth?"
His mind raced. Another shot. To work with you again. To take you to coffee. To apologize. To kiss you again. "I owe you an apology for pulling your arm while we were speaking with Mrs. Arrington a few months ago." Gritting his teeth, he had no idea why he was apologizing. He hadn't really been too rough on her, but he really, really wanted to see her again so if apologizing for nothing was what it took…
"Okay," she said simply. "Will you leave me alone now?"
Wait, Okay?! This is the part where she's supposed to apologize for being condescending! Whatever, just keep her talking. "I also wanted to get together to go over testimony for the Myles Hasty trial." He was grasping at straws to see her again. "Caroline says the trial is…"
"Next month." Brennan interjected tersely mid-sentence. "I know. I converse directly with Ms. Julian you know. And no thank you, I'm going over testimony with her. Anything else?"
"I, uh, I" Booth stammered, wracking his brain for any excuse to see her or even keep her on the phone.
"I thought not. Now you can stop calling every week. Good-bye Booth." Brennan closed her phone and leaned back into her chair and breathed a sigh of relief that she was done with that arrogant man.
Across town, a cab pulled up to the curb, and a strangely smug Seeley Booth paid the driver. Walking up to his door, he couldn't help but gloat internally, at least she called back.