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.

11. T-plus Eleven Weeks Until Graduation, Part I

"...and so, Dr. Brennan, I have to officially inform you that your performance on the two behavioral sciences exams, combined with poor scores on the criminal profiling and suspect interrogation role-play scenarios, has made me, as your training liaison, extremely concerned," Harding said.

Brennan sat on the other side of the conference table. She could tell Harding was enjoying this.

Looking up at her, Brennan nodded, "And, officially, does your concern translate into any formal sanctions?"

Harding folded her hands in front of her as she said, after a moment, "Not as of yet. If this were a normal training class, your scores for the behavioral sciences unit thus far are the equivalent of a failing mark. However, your performance on the legal unit was satisfactory… and your performance on the IT exercises that we completed thus far are acceptable… it is my hope that by having this conversation, you may be encouraged to put forth a greater effort next week during the final portion of this unit. If you do as well as I anticipate you will when we reach the forensic science portion of the training, I believe that your scores will all even out. But, that is why I wanted to have this meeting – to see identify the source of your difficulties and see if there is a correlation to your poor performance in the class."

"I can't be doing that badly," Brennan said, mildly offended.

Harding shrugged. "I don't think I'm violating anyone's privacy rights by telling you that your grades and overall average in the class during the behavioral sciences unit have been the lowest of any student in your cohort."

"Excuse me?" Brennan said, this time the clearly disbelief evident in her voice.

Harding looked at her directly and said, "In squint speak, eleven other squints did better than you, Dr. Brennan… some of them did better than you by *a lot*. Your grades were the worst in the class during the profiling unit."

"I-I find that very hard to believe," Brennan said unsure.

"You can chose to believe it or not… I really don't care. What I do care about is *why* you are having the issues you are—"

"Because I believe that the theoretical principals upon which this particular unit are based have either been simply made up as psychologists and psychiatrists over the years or been pilfered from legitimate academic disciplines like anthropology," Brennan said defiantly.

Harding sighed, and sat back in her seat. "Look, Dr. Brennan… your issues with 'soft sciences' aside… I thought…."

"What?" Brennan prompted.

"Well," Harding said. "To be quite honest, I thought after working over seven years with Agent Booth that, if nothing else, you should have been able to ace a basic interrogation like the scenario which we ran yesterday represented."

Unconsciously biting her lip, Brennan said, "That scenario was highly irregular. Rarely do you have such a passive aggressive suspect who has both his religious counselor, his mother, his lawyer, and *two* different romantic interests break in and interrupt such an interrogation."

"True," Harding chuckled.

"I did the best I could," Brennan said.

"You almost encouraged the two girlfriends to perjure themselves for the suspect and then let the lawyer browbeat you," Harding said.

"I still do not see how I was supposed to keep the two 'girlfriends' from impeaching themselves if they chose to do so," Brennan insisted.

Harding sighed. "Well, you could have started by reemphasizing to them the consequences of making false statements to law enforcement officials... and the penalties that perjury carries."

"But, they weren't under any type of legally binding oath," Brennan said.

"The goal of the exercise was to get the suspect to confess," Harding said. "You continued to let your interrogation room look like a zoo because you wanted to 'hear what everyone had to say'."

"Well, yes, getting all the facts would have benefited..." Brennan began.

"Dr. Brennan... gathering facts was not the point of the exercise, and I believe you know that," Harding said.

Brennan was silent for a moment, and then, reluctantly, with a brief nod, she said, "Yes, I do."

Harding nodded. "So that explains what the issue was yesterday... but what about today's? That scenario should have been a piece of cake for you. I know… because I wrote it based on your work on the Howard Eppes' interrogations."

Brennan frowned. "Your attempt to fictionalize the experience was… inaccurate, to say the least."

At this, Harding scowled. She sighed as she said, "A fictional scenario does not need to be accurate-"

"And I have a right to defend myself, agent or not, if I am attacked," Brennan said.

Harding felt herself becoming angry as she said, "We both know you were never really in any danger from the suspect, who was just an *actor* I might point out... *again* Dr. Brennan. So, what is it this time?" Harding paused as she pointed and said, "I think this is just another perfect example of what occurs when what you want to do and what FBI procedure wants to do comes into conflict... what, Dr. Brennan? Was it just a bit more of a challenge this time since Agent Booth wasn't there to turn a blind eye to your blatant police brutality like when you broke Eppes' wrist merely for making a snide comment because you got angry about it?"

Brennan pursed her lips but remained silent. At last, she spoke and said, "Usually… with a few minor exceptions over the years, Agent Booth has been the primary interrogator in the cases where suspects we have needed to interview have been brought in…."

Harding shrugged. "Then I suggest you talk to Agent Booth ASAP and ask for some advice because next week you need to do a hell of a lot better than you've done recently."

Brennan paused for a moment and then said, "I'll take your counsel under advisement."

A short time later, Brennan hastily gathered her laptop bag and brief case. She opened her purse and pulled out her phone. Harding was right about one thing… if she was going to do any better… as much as she hated to admit it, she *did* need help… but, there was no way in hell that she was going to ask Booth for it just because Harding had told her to… Dialing a number, Brennan was relieved when a response came on the second ring.

"Hello… yes, it's Brennan… I know we haven't spoken for some time. I'm well… yes… yes… the training at Quantico is wicked stressful, yes. I was wondering, since you brought that subject up, if I might be able to schedule an appointment to come see you? No, no… not… *NOT* an official appointment… off the record… between friends… yes. Excellent. When? I-I… I can probably be there in about forty-five minutes if traffic isn't too bad? Your office, yes… yes. Great. No, no… thank you. I'll see you then," Brennan said as she took the phone, sighed, and while grateful she would be able to get the help she needed, she was a bit unsettled of *where* she would have to go to procure it.

Brennan was in the elevator to Sweet's office when her cell phone went off and saw she had an incoming message as the text message icon on her phone light up. Getting off the elevator at a very familiar floor, she stood for a moment as she looked at her inbox.

Received Text Message from Booth: Let me know when you're out of class.

Brennan responded: I'm out now. Had to stop by the library on the way home since it's closed Mon. Have one more errand. Where are you?

Received Text Message from Booth: With the squint squad at FFs for a drink. Finished the mob hit case today. Suspect cracked this afternoon.

Brennan quickly typed: How long will you be?

Received Text Message from Booth: Shouldn't be too long. Just going for a beer since it's 3day weekend. By 8? Can pick up C from Max on way home if you want.

Brennan looked at her watch and knew she should be finished before Booth. No, I can get her.

Received Text Message from Booth: You sure?

Brennan responded: Yes. Have fun.

Received Text Message from Booth: As much as I can without you. Will call when on my way home. Love you.

Smiling, Brennan put the phone back in her pocket and walked to Sweet's office. His light was still on as she knocked.

"Sweets? It's me," Brennan said tentatively.

Smiling, Sweets turned around and gestured. "Dr. Brennan! Please, come in."

Nodding, she shut the door behind her and sat in her usual spot as Sweets took his.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Sweets… especially on such short notice… and on a Friday evening. I hope I'm not delaying any social plans," Brennan said.

Sweets waved her off. "I'm meeting some people for drinks in a little bit, but from the tone of your call, it sounded important."

Immediately, Brennan frowned as she said, "No, Sweets… if I'm keeping you—"

Sweets smiled. "Dr. Brennan… please… when a friend needs my help… happy hour can wait."

Brennan considered his words, and said, "Do you consider me to be your friend, Sweets?"

"Yes," Sweets said. "And I hope, after all these years, that you count me among yours, Dr. Brennan."

Slowly, she nodded as she said, "I do, Sweets… and while I'm not really here for any therapy, per se… I do need some advice."

Proceeding to tell him about her experiences at Quantico, Sweets watched with interest as she finally stopped talking and let out a sigh.

He was quiet for a moment more before he said, "From what you've shared with me, Dr. Brennan… do you have any reason to think that Special Agent Harding is in any way acting inappropriately or doing anything that might sabotage your experience in the program?"

Shaking her head, Brennan said, "No… as far as I can see… while she doesn't like me personally… and has made her opinion on my participation in the program well-known… she has never actually acted in any way that was unprofessional with regard to our work…."

Sweets nodded. "Then… the heart of this matter comes from the fact that you feel something is impairing your ability to perform well in the exams and activities that are, at their heart, based on psychology, Dr. Brennan."

Slowly she nodded. "And, I know that rationally I should be able to separate myself from my own personal beliefs and opinions… compartmentalize my own thoughts on the issue, and take the required perspective to do well on the assignments - the very thing I chastised Dr. Raredan for not doing during the legal unit, mind you - but, for some reason, I find my ability to detach and compartmentalize compromised in the most recent set of exercises... and I'm... I'm not sure what to do," Brennan confided.

"It sounds, Dr. Brennan, like you already know where your weakness is. in regards to improving your mental outlook, enough to increase your score in the behavioral sciences unit… and, so, short of perhaps going over some of the key concepts and techniques… which I would be more than willing *and* happy to do with you… I'm not sure how I can help, Dr. Brennan," Sweets said. "I mean, we've gone over techniques for reading people and how to improve your interrogation skills before… and what I said then still remains true… you can get better with practice, but like any skill… it will take time and patience."

"Time is one thing I don't have a lot of, Sweets," Brennan said.

Sitting back in his chair, Sweets absentmindedly began to rub his jaw as he said, "Have you talked to Booth about this?"

Brennan shook her head. "I can't… he's… he's got other responsibilities and duties that require his time and attention. As we are not currently working together as partners—"

"Dr. Brennan," Sweets interrupted with a smile. "I think we both know that's an excuse. If you *don't* want to get Booth's help on this… see what his input is… that's fine, whatever your reasons are… but, we both know he *always* makes time for you."

Brennan was quiet for a moment before she nodded slightly. "Do you want to talk about why you don't want to talk about this with Booth?"

"Not really," Brennan said. "I-I… I just… this training at Quantico… it's something I need to do by myself… without him, Sweets. And, if he helps me now, that will just defeat the entire purpose from my point of view."

Considering her words, Sweets said, "He cares about you very much… but you know that…."

Brennan frowned. "Sweets… as I explained at the beginning of our conversation, my purpose in coming here was not to receive any therapy… particularly about my relationship with Booth… or lack thereof."

Sweets nodded. "Okay… I—" He paused for a minute and then rubbed his jaw again. Smiling at Brennan, he said, "I know when not to push, but—"

"I can't believe he did that, you know," Brennan said softly.

"Did what, Dr. Brennan?" Sweets asked, a nervous tone coming into his voice.

Brennan pointed. "It looks to have healed quite well, but I can still see that the angle of your mandibular notch is offset slightly near the junction of the coronoid process at the tempromandibular joint by several millimeters. I'm guessing that's from when it was dislocated... but the offset angle in which it healed indicates that it wasn't a mere dislocation, was it, Sweets?"

"No," Sweets said simply. "No, my jaw actually had several hairline fractures near the joint where the upper and lower mandible meet... and the partial break only became clear once some of the swelling had gone down and they could do a more sensitive x-ray than the initial scan."

Brennan nodded and then said, "It must have been painful."

"It was…."

"And Booth—"

"And Agent Booth had *nothing* do to with it… I was assaulted by a suspect that I chose to interrogate without back up and without the interview room's equipment turned on to properly record the interview, as I should have," Sweets insisted. He leaned forward and caught her gaze directly as he said, "Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, was in *NO* way involved in what happened to me. Eastman was a superior type of scum bag, who actually *did* try to rough me up... He deserved what he got... and then some."

Brennan bit her lip for a moment, and said softly, "You're a very good friend, Sweets."

Sitting back in his chair, Sweets relaxed a bit and said, "From you, that means quite a lot to me, Dr. Brennan. Thank you."

And so the pair continued talking a bit more. Sweets asked her to begin verbalizing some of the things she had read and that they had been discussed in the course up to that point in time. As she did so, Sweets would occasionally interrupt with a question to ask her to clarify what she thought she had just explained. Sometimes he would make a point that related what Brennan was saying back to some previous case they had worked, or, on occasion, drew an allusion or direct analogy to a familiar anthropological concept. As the discussion intensified, Brennan found that her understanding of several key theories and approaches was not as muddled as she had previously thought… she had just needed to talk to some one about it. While they continued talking, with no pressure put upon her to do well or satisfy some assessment bench mark… but to just talk about knowledge and the learning process… she found that just by going over the topic and some of her interpretations of what she had read, her feelings began to change. At some point, she started to feel more positive and confident about the subject matter. A little over an hour later, Brennan gave Sweets an awkward hug as the two stood to go.

"Thank you, Sweets," Brennan said.

Sweet smiled. "Any time, Dr. Brennan. And, like I said, once you've gone over your reading tomorrow, if you want to call me to talk about it, feel free. This has been… fun."

Brennan looked at her watch and saw that it was almost 7:45. She nodded at the clock and said, "I hope I haven't kept you from your social plans too long?"

Glancing at his watch, Sweets shook his head. "Naaww… I'm just meeting some friends at the Founding Fathers… I know at least some of the team will still be there."

He immediately realized his slip as he made it. Brennan frowned, but quickly hid her reaction.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan… I haven't been as forthright with you as I should have been… we finished a case today, and a group of people from the lab are going to grab drinks to celebrate… I didn't tell you earlier because I didn't want you to feel as if we couldn't talk because you thought you were inconveniencing me… but, now that we've finished, I'm sure everyone would love to see you, so please… join us? You know you never need an invitation… that you're always welcome, but if it helps, please come," Sweets said.

Smiling a small smile, Brennan said, "That is quite complimentary, Sweets, but—"

"Booth is there… or should be there…" Sweets interrupted. "He—he misses you too, Dr. Brennan. We all do."

Fighting what she felt were a tiny pin prick of a tear at the corner of her eye, Brennan nodded. "As do I… but I have to get home, Sweets… get started on this reading, you know? Even with the three-day weekend for Veteran's Day…."

"Are you sure that there isn't any way I can't convince you to come out just for a little bit? As you said, it is a holiday weekend… and… please join us for a drink? Just one? It'll be just like old times."

"As much as I would like to, Sweets… I can't… not tonight… I'm just… I wouldn't be very good company. But, you have my word… next week… or whenever you guys go again, call me, and I'll come. I promise. It doesn't matter when it is…."

Nodding, Sweets said, "Of course… I just wanted you to know that you're welcome just the same. Our group… we aren't the same without you, Dr. Brennan."

"Thank you, Sweets… you have no idea how much that means to me."

Brennan reached Max's apartment just a little behind schedule… she was knocking on his door by 8:15, although she had called him to let her know of the delay.

Greeting her with a hug, Max pulled her to the couch for a moment before he went to gather up the baby's things.

"How are you doing, honey?" Max asked.

Brennan shrugged. "We're currently in the portion of the training that deals with behavioral sciences… and I hate it. But, we will begin the forensics portion of the training quite soon… week after next, I believe, and I am quite looking forward to that event."

"And what about with you… aside from the training? Personally… you're doing okay, Tempe?"

Her eyebrows arching in suspicion, Brennan said, "Yes, Dad. Fine. Why do you ask?"

Max waved it off as he said, "Oh, no reason… I just wanted to make certain that things between you and Booth… I mean, we haven't had a lot of time to talk, just the two of us the past few weeks since you've been studying so much when you're not in school... so, just... things... they're still… good, right?"

"Yes—" Brennan said. "Why wouldn't they be?"

"No reason," Max said, just a bit too quickly for Brennan's liking. "I just—"

"Dad!" Brennan said. "Quite doing your metaphorical dance around the topic you are actually trying to broach. If something is causing concern to you about the status of my relationship with Booth, please pose your question."

"Okay," Max said, his demeanor changing instantly. "Why did you tell Booth you would never marry him?"

Brennan's eyebrows were raised in complete surprise. She opened her mouth to speak, and found that no sound came out. Swallowing once, she said, "Why are you under the impression that I told Booth that I would never marry him?"

"Well, because, honey… he and I had a chance to talk over the holiday weekend in September… and—"

"And... he sorta said... you two... well, that marriage wasn't really in the cards for you two," Max said.

"I am uncertain as to what card games have to do the possibility of Booth and I entering into a marital contract..."

"Figure of speech, honey," Max said. "It means... Booth said that he didn't foresee there being some point in the future where you two would get married because... he said you told him that you didn't want to marry him."

Furiously, Brennan worked in her mind to go over several dozen potential conversations that might be the one to which Max was referencing... and found she couldn't find a single one that might qualify as the conversation to which Booth had apparently referred. Had she somehow, inadvertently, rejected his proposal... and he had been hiding his pain over it for months? Could she, in some way, have contributed to the non-existent mid-life crisis upon which Gordon Gordon apparently believed Booth was about to embark upon several months before? Or... or... was this something else entirely? Was Booth hiding something... from Max... something he knew would anger Brennan's father and might elicit a violent response... because it was something that would hurt Brennan, and in turn, demand retribution?

Struggling for her bearings, Brennan pressed, "What did he say, Dad... *exactly*?"

"Just what I said… I asked why you guys hadn't settled down yet and made things official, and he said that you had told him that you would never marry him," Max said.

Brennan's eyes flashed… something. Not quite anger… but some emotion… and it was strong. Max's curiosity was piqued.

"He said… those…words… exactly, Dad?" Brennan then asked. "Then really carefully, please… it's important."

"Well-"

"Dad, please," Brennan interrupted. "It is of paramount importance that you focus on not interpreting or paraphrasing your conversation with Booth. Please relay *only* the piece of the conversation where he referenced him, me, and the issue of marriage."

Max nodded. And then said, "His exact words were that he would never ask you to marry him and that you and he are never going to get married."

"You are positive he used the words 'never' in both contexts?" Brennan said, something twisting in her guts.

Max thought for a moment and then nodded. "Yes. I'm positive. He used the word 'never' in each statement."

Shooting up from the couch, Brennan said, "Dad, I-I… I need to ask a big favor."

Max, recognizing his daughter's mood change nodded. "Sure, baby. Whatever you need."

"I... I know it seems over the past few months that Booth and I have been using you like a part-time caregiver for Christine, and I do feel extremely guilty for that-"

"Why?" Max said. "She's my granddaughter. I love her. I love being able to spend time with her... and helping you in the process is just icing on the cake, Tempe."

"Even still, I don't feel comfortable imposing on you as we have..." Brennan said.

"Please, Tempe... when Chrissy or you are involved... impose... impose all you want," Max said with a smile.

Brennan thought for a moment and then nodded, "Well, in that case, and given my need... I... it would be of great help to me if you would keep Chrissy, tonight… I'll come get her tomorrow morning, if that's all right… can you do that?" Brennan asked.

"Sure, baby... if you tell me why," Max said, although he had an idea that he already knew the answer.

"Booth and I," Brennan said, that same emotion Max had seen flash earlier in her eyes flashed again, this time more brightly and more intense. "We need to have a... conversation… and I don't think we will be able to have the type of conversation that we need to undertake if we both know the baby is there..."

"And, just to satisfy an old man's curiosity, the topic of this conversation would be?" Max asked.

Frowning, Brennan said, "Until I know the complete ramifications of the topic of the conversation, I would prefer not to discuss it until I have conversed with Booth, Dad... I... this is a very personal topic... and from what you've told me... I feel like... something's going on that I don't know about, but should... and somehow, if I've missed something... well, I've spent the past few weeks feeling like I'm a failure because of this behavioral soft-science… CRAP at work... and, I suppose that may made me remiss in my home duties..."

"Tempe-" Max began.

Suddenly, Brennan's head snapped up as she said, "The one thing I can tell you, though, is that... I'll be damned if I'm going to feel like a failure in my own relationship with Booth just because he doesn't want to marry me…. I-I... that's not going to happen, Dad."

Nodding, Max suddenly felt sorry for Booth… and a bit guilty for having put a proverbial burr in Brennan's saddle. However, as long as she wasn't upset with *him*… that's all Max really cared about. "Okay, honey. Call me when you're ready… and good luck."

A short time later, Brennan came barreling into their apartment. Her mind was still reeling from her father's admissions... and, the entire time she was driving back home, she tried to recall the conversation or conversations to which Max was referring... and for the life of her... she couldn't figure out which conversations that Booth might have been referencing when he had spoken to Max. This frustrated her even more... Brennan felt as if she had missed, yet again, *another* thing... let something else slip past her analytical processes. And, frankly, she was a bit tired of it all... at the moment, there was nothing she could do about her coursework that would manifest itself in immediate results... but, Booth... yes... there *was* something she could do about Booth at the moment... and do it, she had decided, she would...

Booth was in the bedroom when Brennan found him. He had not been home all that long by the looks of things, as he remained half-dressed in his normal work attire. Booth immediately saw her tense body frame, the blaze of emotion in her eyes, and the rigidness of her stance, and wondered what had happened now to set her off.

"Hey, Bones. How was school today?" he asked the standard question, figuring it was better to let her tell him what was wrong.

Brennan frowned.

"What?" Booth said. "And where's the baby?"

"Chrissy's at my dad's still," Brennan said.

"What? Why? I told you I could pick her up—"

"STOP," Brennan said loudly.

Booth watched her, but did stop talking.

"If you recall, you have repeatedly told me I can ask you any question I want, and you will answer it. I find myself in need of invoking this privilege, Booth," Brennan said.

"Okay," he said,

"Have you recently developed some issue, or set of issues, that has resulted in your deciding I am no longer an individual with whom you wish to pursue a long term monogamous relationship?"

"What?" Booth exclaimed, whatever question he had been expecting, clearly that had not been it. "Why would you even ask me that, Bones?"

"Please, Booth, a simple 'yes' or 'no' answer will suffice, no matter how painful you think such an answer may be to me," Brennan said evenly.

"No," Booth said.

"Have you come to the belief that I would no longer be a good person with whom you are able to reproduce in the event that we decide to produce additional offspring?"

Booth waited for a split second, realizing that her wording was betraying a great deal more about what was going on with her than the actual questions she was asking… squint-speak was always a fall back for her when she felt she was on the defensive about something….

"No."

"Do you believe that I am a poor maternal caregiver to either Parker or Christine?"

"No!"

"Is there another female with whom you have become interested in satisfying your biological impulses?"

"No."

"Do you still find me sexually appealing?"

"Yes."

"Do you wish to continue our social contract?"

"Yes."

"Do you wish, in any way, to alter or to change the nature of our current relationship?"

"No."

"Well… why not?" Brennan asked, looking up at him, a bit of uncertainty coming into her voice.

"Excuse me?"

"Why not?" Brennan repeated. "If you believe I'm a good mother, a suitable mate, if you still find me sexually attractive, if there isn't another woman with whom you wish to copulate, and if you still want to be with me… why isn't that enough reason to change things?"

Booth, a look of bewildered confusion plain on his face said, "Bones… you're going to have to help me out a bit here… I… I'm lost. I don't know what we're talking about… or what it is that's the right thing I need to say to you to not get in trouble... and, if I can... also... somehow make things better for you."

"'Marry me.'"

"What?" Booth said, certain he had perhaps started hallucinating… or had slipped into some type of dream… because Brennan was never such a good actress as to be able to pull off this type of joke… not with him.

"'Marry me'," Brennan repeated. "You asked what it is that would be the right thing for you to say to me at this particular juncture that wouldn't get you in trouble and would improve my current emotional turmoil. The statement that you could make to me that would accomplish both those goals... it would be 'marry me', Booth."

He moved closer to her and looked at her eyes. "You're serious, aren't you?" Booth said at last.

"Yes, yes I am," Brennan said. "You asked me what the right thing for you to say would be right now… and that's it, Booth. That's what I want you to say to me… 'Marry me'."

-TBC-