Twenty-one Weeks at Quantico

By: Lesera128

Rated: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: When the FBI establishes a pilot program for consultants to receive training at the FBI academy, Brennan and Booth clash over whether she should enroll. AU.

2. T-minus 10 Weeks until Orientation

"We're out of Elmer's Glue again, Cam," Brennan said, walking into Camille Saroyan's office. "I don't know how I am expected to complete the tasks that are required by my job description if I don't have the basic requisite supplies that will allow me to carry out my assignments."

"And good morning to you, too, Dr. Brennan," Cam said as she looked from her computer monitor to Brennan's exasperated form.

Brennan frowned. Normally, she would have taken Cam's slight chide and modified her behavior. However, it had not been a good morning in a series of not good mornings. She was tired… she was short on patience… in a word, Dr. Temperance Brennan was cranky. Eying her technical superior, Brennan said, "So, the glue?"

Cam shook her head. "The last order of office supplies I put in was delayed because of a shipping accident on I-95 yesterday. The company should be delivering the boxes some time before close of business today."

"But the Elmer's Glue is not just an ordinary office supply to me, you know that Cam. How am I supposed to complete the reconstruction of the Jane Doe skull if I don't have the glue?" Brennan asked.

Cam shrugged. "Send Daisy down to CVS and have her buy a few bottles to tide you guys over for a few hours. If she saves the receipts, we can expense the cost of the glue."

Brennan's frown deepened. "Ms. Wick, while notoriously exuberant, is one of the foremost trained students in forensic anthropology on the eastern seaboard. She is not a glorified errand girl, Cam."

Cam shrugged again. "Then it looks like you're out of glue until after lunch time." She then turned back to her computer screen. Brennan clinched her fists in frustration, and turned to leave. She stopped when Cam called back, "Dr. Brennan?"

"Yes, Dr. Saroyan?"

"Is he still being difficult about the leave of absence?"

"YES!" Brennan said, as she nodded emphatically. She then stomped out of the office, and back to the platform.

Cam shook her head slightly with a knowing look out the door. If the next ten weeks were going to be like this until Brennan's leave went into effect, Cam really didn't know what to do to stop her lab from becoming the battleground it had been shaping up to be over the past two weeks since Brennan had told Booth she had accepted a spot in the FBI's pilot program for training consultants as agents.

Brennan sat on couch, hastily banging away on her laptop's key board when she heard the key in the apartment door's lock turn and the door open. Booth came in and began his normal daily routine upon returning home. He dropped his keys and phone on the entry way table, moved to the wall safe where he kept his gun and put it away, shrugged out of his jacket and began to loosen his tie as he trudged towards the couch. Brennan glanced up only once, but quickly returned her attention to the computer screen and didn't so much as acknowledge his presence.

Not really noticing her lack of acknowledgement, Booth grabbed the stack of mail from the table where it had been deposited earlier in the day. He began to thumb through the envelopes, fliers, and packages when a larger manila envelope caught his attention. Seeing it had already been opened, he curiously glanced at the address and immediately frowned upon noticing to whom it was addressed. Dropping the rest of the mail back on the table, he brought the manila envelope back to the couch, plopped down, and then gestured with the envelope.

"Bones?"

"What?" Brennan asked, not looking up from the laptop screen.

"What's this?" Booth asked, nonchalantly.

Brennan sighed, but looked up. She saw the envelope he was holding and looked back to the screen.

"That would be the confirmation of enrollment paperwork that was sent by the admissions officer who is responsible for processing my paperwork at Quantico, Booth," Brennan said.

Booth nodded his head. "And why would you be receiving a confirmation of enrollment for anything at Quantico?"

"Because," Brennan said, a bit of snippiness coming into her voice. "As we have already discussed… repeatedly… even though you chose not to participate in the program, I did."

Booth frowned. "Bones, come on—"

"Come on where, Booth?"

"Don't do that," Booth snapped.

"What?"

"Don't do that thing you do about being clueless on purpose with a figure of speech to just annoy me, Bones," Booth said.

Brennan, realizing she had been caught and called on what she was doing, nodded at him. "Fine. I won't." She resumed working on the laptop.

The pair was silent for a moment. Booth then said, "Why are you so intent on doing this?"

"Why are you so intent on me not doing this?" came the reply.

Booth sighed. "I am not doing this again, Bones."

"Good," Brennan nodded. "I look forward not to having to have the same exact conversation with you for the fourteenth evening in a row."'

Standing, Booth shook his head, but said nothing. He moved in the direction of the kitchen and called out, "What do you want for dinner?"

"Whatever," Brennan said. "I don't care since I'm not cooking tonight. I've got too much work to do."

"Yeah," Booth said, "Well, I'm not cooking either." He narrowed his eyes, visually trying to see if he could bait her into breaking the calm exterior she portrayed.

Brennan stopped typing and then said, obviously choosing not to respond to his challenge, "You know where the take out menus are then, Booth. Go choose something."

Booth frowned. "That's all you have to say to me?"

Brennan looked at him for a moment and then nodded. "Yes."

"Great," Booth muttered. He moved to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and pulled out a beer. Reaching for a stack of take out menus, he muttered to himself, "Yup… just great."

-TBC-