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.
13. T-plus Nine Weeks Until Graduation
It was a day that she couldn't help being excited about – in some ways, it might have even been the part of the course that she was looking forward to the most… prior to week nine of the training, approximately the third week in November of the calendar year, Brennan's group was finally given the nod that there turn in Hogan's Alley would be coming up. The idea of Hogan's Alley, despite the fact that she had spent years in the field with Booth... well, for some reason, it... it just *excited* her.
Prior to week nine, Harding had let it be known that the six smaller groups (twelve trainees, twelve liaisons) would be randomly rotating their way through the schedule as the training progressed. Brennan and Harding were paired with Leigha Towson, the historical archaeologist from the University of Maryland-College Park. Towson was an interesting person, Brennan conceded, and they had made amiable conversation at various points through the course. Her liaison, a younger and enthusiastic man named Tom Stinzser, smiled a lot, but had a habit of not speaking unless spoken to, because, in his words he 'liked to listen'. Brennan and Towson's group, identified as Group 5TC, was the second-to-last group who would complete a series of several exercises during a prolonged span of time in the Alley. While Harding had brought the entire group to the 10-acre site periodically for smaller exercises, week 9 marked the first instance that Brennan would be able to get a turn in full tactical gear… and she was excited. Her excitement grew as she reflected on the physical exercises the rest of the group was completing in their absence. Normally, Brennan liked running… but… when she could be doing this… getting into the field… standing on her own two feet, without Booth? No, *that* would trump a hard day's cardio any time.
However, if she had been one to believe in signs and portents, she would have taken the overcast morning sky as a symbol of how difficult her ensuing day was actually going to be… it had rained the evening before, making everything damp and even more realistic looking than the very realistic Hogan's Alley actually was - and it was pretty realistic regularly. Brennan, Towson, Stinzser, and Harding arrived at a three-story brownstone where they would begin their day's training exercises. Each was dressed in standard FBI field engagement apparel. Brennan had felt another small thrill as she had changed that morning upon her arrival at Quantico. The bullet-proof vest and the black jump suit weren't all that new to her… but… seeing the FBI lettering on the back of her jacket, combined with the etching of her name over the jacket's front pocket… BRENNAN… it *had* sent a little shiver up her spine. Pulling her hair into a ponytail before pulling it through an FBI baseball cap… Brennan desperately wished she could get someone to take a photo so she could show it to Booth later… but there really wasn't any time.
As they approached the brownstone where they would begin the day's activities, Harding was completing their briefing. "So, we'll get our feet wet with a simple secure and search activity of the suspect's apartment. This afternoon, we won't be spending quite as much time in the actual Alley today as we will tomorrow because I want to go back over your marksmanship qualifying scores at outdoor range 7 and the rifle range before we get begin outfitting you each with the laser transmitter and receivers that will be used in conjunction with your sidearms and rifles during the major individual tactical scenarios everyone will start to complete beginning in Week 5."
Harding, distracted by something that she saw up the street, immediately frowned. "What the hell—" she muttered to herself. She began to increase her speed to a jog, as she noticed two unfamiliar men unloading a parked jeep a block away from her brownstone.
Pulling out her badge, she waved it and said, "FBI Training Coordinator Rose Harding, stop what you're doing, and identify yourselves."
The two men looked up in surprise, but immediately stopped what they were doing.
Brennan, Towson, and Stinzer followed Harding, and stood just behind her as the two young men, dressed in Marine Corps fatigues began speaking.
"…yes, ma'am, we're from the Basic School," the older of the two individuals was saying. "We're here setting up for our training exercise tonight."
"This portion of the Alley is supposed to be cleared today and tomorrow," Harding said. "I'm working through a tactical scenario with my trainees. You guys aren't supposed to be here until after 6pm."
"Apologies, ma'am, but our CO said he had cleared our presence in the Alley with AD MacKinnon," came the response.
"But, you were supposed to keep clear of these three blocks. I know MacKinnon told your CO that because I was there when they were on the phone yesterday." Harding frowned again. "What prep are you guys running?"
"We're setting up the tear gas canisters for tonight's—"
Looking at the canisters that the soldier indicated, Harding' her face immediately paled.
"Where did you get that supply of tear gas canisters?"
"Ma'am?"
"That supply of tear gas canisters… where did it come from?" Harding repeated.
Both soldiers looked at each other before the younger one offered, "They're our normal supplier, ma'am."
"Is the label on those canisters marked with a manufacturer class code 8X9?" Harding said, very carefully.
Reaching down into the jeep, the older soldier looked curiously, while Harding winced. Brennan didn't know what was going on, but she could tell that Harding's respiration and blood pressure had increased substantially over the course of the very brief conversation.
"I'm… I'm not sure, ma'am, but, I think— yes, this shipment has that particular manufacturing code," the marine said as he turned the canister over in his hand and peered at it's label.
"Shit," Harding muttered. "Don't you idiots ever read your supply briefings?" Harding asked in exasperation.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" the younger soldier said.
"Yesterday," Harding said. "Yesterday, a bulletin came in notifying us about a supplier defect in the canisters with that class code… they… they're *not* tear gas, gentlemen." She then turned back to her group and said, "Brennan, Towson, Stinszer, proceed to the edge of the Alley as quickly as you can. Stinszer, I want you to initiate standard evacuation protocols…."
"Ma'am?" the soldier asked in confusion. "Is there a problem?"
"Go now!" Harding said.
Knowing that tone of voice, recognizing it from a thousand different times that Booth had used it to her when her life… and other lives were in danger, Brennan didn't argue… and apparently neither Towson or Stinszer were going to either. Turning, the trio began to make their way quickly back in the direction they came. It appeared the trainees would leave the arguing to the marines.
"Ma'am," the younger soldier said with a small chuckle. "I can assure you that our quartermaster would never make a mistake like this. Here, I can show you if you don't believe me…."
"NO!" Harding yelled.
And although Brennan was several hundred yards away, she heard everything that happened next. She heard the young man chuckle, take the pin out of the canister, grunt as he heaved it off in the distance, and then the loud explosion cut through the air before there was heat and pain and darkness.
Booth was in his office, arguing with Sweets about something, when Cullen walked inside. Immediately, the ashen look on his face made Booth's stomach fall about twenty feet. He stood up and said, "What happened?"
"About a half hour ago… I'm still not certain… some type of training accident in the Alley… I-I don't have a lot of details," Cullen said.
"Is she-?" Booth asked, leaving the paralyzing thought unfinished.
"I don't know," Cullen said simply. "She was when they airlifted her…."
"Where?"
"Potomac Hospital was the closest with the airlift capability," Cullen said.
"They airlifted her?" Booth repeated. "You're sure?"
Cullen nodded.
Immediately, Booth grabbed his jacket, and was out the door in the blink of an eye, leaving Cullen and Sweets alone, the pair stunned in silence as he left them in his wake.
"I'm fine," Brennan insisted for the third time. "I promise you, Booth, I'm fine."
He sat next to her hospital bed, holding her hand, refusing to let it go, even though she complained it was starting to go numb from being held so tightly and in the same position for so long without any movement.
"Tell me again," he said.
Brennan sighed. "I was several hundred yards away when whatever was in that canister exploded. Harding had already ordered us to evacuate the Alley. She was closer to the explosion that I was… I…I don't remember a lot after that. The explosion knocked me down… and into something… I… my left wrist is sprained, but it's a very mild one. I fell on my left side, and so that side of my body absorbed most of the impact. I'm going to be stiff and sore and aching for a few days… and I won't lie… the bruising is going to be quite extensive. However, the worst of my injuries is the cut on my forehead. It's eight stitches from where some broken glass caught grazed me... overall the injuries I sustained were quite mild." She paused before she added with a nod, "I think we both know I've received much worse when I was in the field with *you* than any of the injuries I sustained while in the Alley today..."
"So, you're really okay?"
Nodding, Brennan said, "They gave me a tetanus shot and a local anesthetic when they stitched the gash on scalp near my forehead. That's it. I'm not even on any pain medications that are stronger than a heavy dose of an anti-inflammatory... I think it's ibuprofen, but I'm not positive." She paused before she said, "I was honesty probably in more danger from bleeding to death the night you tackled me in Woodland when I was pregnant with Chrissy than I am right now."
"Then, if all that's true," Booth said very slowly.
"It is," Brennan sighed.
"Then, why did they airlift you?" Booth asked.
Brennan shook her head. "Just a precaution, I think… there was a lot of blood because of the way the gash cut the scalp, and I was unresponsive for a couple of minutes... stunned by the blow, I suspect. They wanted to be cautious... Harding and I were the two people who were physically standing closest to the blast from the way the canister landed when the Marine threw it... so, when they took her... they wanted take me as well... but, yes... I think it was just caution on their part."
"And now?"
"And now, they're keeping me for observation over night, just to be on the safe side, but I promise you, Booth, I'm fine. Really," Brennan said. She stopped and looked at him with a comforting smile. "If you really feel like worrying about someone, you should be concerned about Agent Harding. She was much closer to the blast than I was… and from what I've been told… her current medical condition is much more serious than mine ever was…."
Looking at him in the eyes, Brennan put aside her annoyance at his persistent questing to finally see what was driving the classic Seeley J. Booth Method of Suspect Interrogation... he was scared. Immediately feeling guilty, she reached out to him.
"Come here."
He looked at her for a moment's hesitation, and then said, "Are you sure?"
She nodded. "I'm fine... but, as you currently seem to be in need of reassurance from me, yes, I'm sure that if you come here and let me hug you, you will not be able to harm me in any way."
For a moment, Booth pondered her words, and then, accepting them, he slowly moved towards the bed and let Brennan pull him into the warmth of her embrace.
It took a moment before Brennan realized how tense his muscles were, how fast his heart was beating... and how tight he was now holding her. Pulling back slightly, she touched his face in a comforting caress as she said, "Hey... I'm right here... and I'm fine, Booth, really. I promise."
Tightening his grasp around her, to the point she started to wince a bit at the ferocity of it, Booth murmured into her hair, "God, Bones... for about the twenty minutes it took to get here... I... I thought I might have lost you."
"You drove a distance that should have taken more than forty-five minutes in matter of twenty minutes?' Brennan said, a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she gently pulled away.
"Well, yeah," Booth said, sheepishly. "I mean, I *might* have broken a few traffic laws... *technically*...but... I *did* use the siren... and it was only in the name of official FBI business."
"Because I'm your partner?" Brennan teased.
At this, Booth turned serious again as he said, "No, because you're my wife... and I thought... God... I thought-" For some reason, he didn't want her to see the fear in his eyes and the tears that had started to collect as they threatened to fall.
Brennan nodded at him reassuringly, "What, Booth?"
"On the entire way over here... I kept thinking about two things... I-I didn't know what I would do with Chrissy if... if I had to tell her she had lost her mother... how could I tell her that you were gone..."
Staring at him, something began to proverbially scratch at the edge of Brennan's mind as his words echoed in her head. How could I tell *her* that *you* were gone. She felt a cold shiver go done her spine, and looking up, she felt even more guilty that she had been distracted in the middle of Booth's heartfelt confession... But, thankfully, he hadn't seemed to notice her momentary lapse in concentration.
"And, Bones, God... I... I was so scared... I... a week, you know? It's just been a little more than a week... just a few days, really, that I can finally say that I have a wife... even if I can't tell anyone yet besides when we broke the news to your dad and Jared and Padme and Parker... and, I was so scared that it was being taken away... you were being taken away... as punishment, maybe, for something I did? And, God... I just- I didn't know how I was going to deal with everything," Booth said.
Feeling her heart grow heavy with sympathy for him, Brennan pulled him to her tightly again, heedless of the pain it caused her because of the bruising. "It's okay, Booth... it's okay. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere. I'm fine. I promise," she repeated.
This time it was Booth who pulled back as he said, "Yeah?"
Brennan nodded. "Yeah."
Two days later, Booth sat in front of Hacker's desk with Cullen standing to the left of their Deputy Director.
"How's Dr. Brennan?" Cullen asked, hoping to forestall what he knew would be a maelstrom of protest from Booth once they broached the real reason they had requested his presence for this meeting.
"Bones?" Booth asked. He shrugged. "Banged up a bit, so far as I know, but okay."
"Temperance was very lucky," Andrew said, leaning back in his chair. "*We* were very lucky… I still don't think anyone realizes how much of a disaster this could have been if something had happened to any of the people that were in the Alley… let alone those individuals who are trainees."
Cullen sighed, but remained quiet, as he watched Hacker's mind go over the potential public relations nightmare that the accident could have represented.
Looking up, Hacker then said, "You know, even though everything has been on hold for three days… and that's more time lost than anyone likes, especially when we're so close to finishing things in the pilot program..."
Booth, still not quite sure why he was sitting in Hacker's office with Cullen watching him, nodded. "Yes, sir. I know from what Dr. Brennan has told me that there isn't that much time left to complete what remains of the training schedule."
Hacker nodded. "And this project is of paramount importance to the Bureau, Booth. You know that, right?"
"Of course, sir," Booth said. "But… permission to speak freely, sir?"
This time, even though Hacker technically had superiority over both men, Cullen was the one in whose direction Booth glanced. Booth grimaced slightly, and then nodded to Hacker as he said, "Sorry… old habit."
Hacker waved him off. "If I got insulted by you and about half our division every time someone deferred to AD Cullen, I'd never leave my office, Booth."
Cullen sighed. "Booth, say what you're going to say."
"Well, sirs, to be quite honest… I'm not sure while I'm here aside from being able to give a status update on Dr. Brennan's health which you all should really ask herself about anyway... and being able to merely repeat second-hand what's she told me about her training experience," Booth said.
Hacker frowned. This, in turn, made Booth frown as it finally dawned on him why he was there.
"Oh, no... I know that look, sir… I know that look, and suddenly I'm thinking that don't want to tell me is something that you're going to tell me even though we both know I won't like it—" Booth said.
Wincing Hacker said, "Well, yeah… there is something we have to tell you… and… given your prior comments on the issue, AD Cullen is pretty sure you won't like it."
At this, Cullen spoke up. "Booth, do you know Rose Harding?"
Booth nodded. "Casually… we met once… several years ago. Why?"
"You know," Cullen began, "She was appointed by AD MacKinnon to head up this pilot program for us. But… when you turned down the invitation to participate… and Dr. Brennan accepted… she pulled us out of a tight spot and picked up the slack created by your non-participation."
"Yes, sir," Booth said carefully. "I'm aware of this."
"Are you also aware that in the explosion in Hogan's Alley that injured Dr. Brennan, Agent Harding sustained significant injuries… several cracked ribs… a punctured lung… and, I think... a broken leg," Cullen said.
Booth shook his head. "I was unaware of the extent of her injuries, sir."
"Yeah, well," Cullen replied. "Bottom line is that she's going to pull through, but her recovery time is estimated to be at 12 to 15 weeks, including PT and rehab."
"And, so that means, she can't continue in her role as either the program coordinator or as Temperance's liaison at Quantico, Booth," Hacker added quietly.
"Oh, no," Booth said, realization further dawning on his face. "You're not—sir," Booth turned to Cullen. "Please tell me that you aren't—"
"Ordering you to take over for Harding at Quantico?" Cullen asked.
Booth slowly nodded his head.
"Before I answer that question, I want to make one thing clear," Cullen said.
"Of course, sir," Booth said. "But, before you do that I would just like to point out that there are many, many other agents who have a more significant amount of experience when compared to me training agents, sir… and me… at Quantico…."
"I know your personal feelings on it, Booth," Cullen interrupted. "But, here's the deal. We're not going to order you to take Harding's place. We're just making you the offer first… because, quite frankly, you're right… there *are* many other agents who are better qualified than you to tackle the training and administration portion of the program for the next nine weeks. However, as I originally explained to you when the program was initially conceptualized... it was with the idea that the liaisons would transition into permanent partners for the trainees, once the program is done and implemented beyond it's pilot stage. So, it's logical to come back to you since you are already Dr. Brennan's partner, especially since we have no intention of altering that... but, there are also other reasons... most plainly—"
"We could pull someone else who would go through the motions of finishing the training with her," Hacker interjected. "But, there isn't anyone else we can think of that not only knows how to… communicate... as successfully with Temperance as you can… and could do Harding's job at the same time in the relatively short span of time that we're talking about here."
Booth groaned, but said nothing.
"Look, Booth… if you don't want to do this, you don't have to… we won't make it an order. However, if you do turn us down again, you should know… Brennan is most likely not going to make it through the program. We've been over Harding's notes… she's on the borderline as is for making the scores that are the bare minimum required to complete the training. I *can* put her with another agent for the last nine weeks of this experiment, but I can also almost guarantee that I won't be able to find anyone but you that will be able to relate to and interact with Brennan successfully enough for her to finish doing what she needs to do at the Academy," Cullen said.
"So," Hacker interjected again, smiling weakly. "As I was just discussing with AD Cullen here before you came in... it would be a really great way to get Temperance all the help she needs. If we could find some way to ensure that Temperance *does* finish the program, her scores don't need to be all that high... she just needs to be able to say she finished it... then that would be great... because, well, you know... she's Temperance... and we figured that you would be able to... umm... ensure that she does finish... because someone like Temperance finishing the program... well, that would be a really, *really* good thing as far as demonstrating its viability to the Director when we motion to have the program implemented on a permanent basis. You guys know what I mean, right? That would be like gold for the PR department-"
Both Booth and Cullen turned to look at him in mild annoyance.
"What?" Hacker said.
"Andrew-" Cullen began. "Even if I agreed to make the offer to Booth, I know I speak for both Diane and myself when I say... we're not simply rubber stamping Brennan's records for the academy just because it would be great PR. Either she finishes or she doesn't... but she's going to complete it without any other special considerations... and her record *is* going to be an *accurate* reflection of what she's spent the 21 weeks at Quantico doing. Anything else would be purely unethical... and unacceptable."
His smile widening, Hacker waved his hands in mock protest as he said, "Of course... of course, Sam... I'm not insinuating it should be any way else... but, what I am saying... is just that... her finishing the program is really important. It's something that should be kept in mind. That's all."
Cullen shook his head before he turned back to look at Booth.
Booth was silent for a moment and then said, "Can I handle Bones during what's left of the training? Sure, yeah, that's not a problem… I mean, I've been doing that for years... but… the administrative part of it? I… what would I do about that?"
"AD MacKinnon would assist you with that… we have Harding's notes and files… and you're in luck, as the only portion of what's left of the course are the forensic and strategic tactical training units… stuff that both you and Dr. Brennan know in spades, Booth," Cullen said.
Sighing, Booth looked up at both men, from one to the other and said, "How long do I have to make the decision?"
"Unfortunately," Hacker said. "We need to know your choice before you walk out that door."
This time, Booth sighed again… a deeper, more intense, longer sigh... before he looked to Cullen and merely nodded.
Booth grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and trudged back into the family room. He plopped down on the couch, too tired to pay attention as Brennan kept pacing back and forth.
"But why?" Brennan asked again.
"For the sixth time, Bones, because…. I didn't really have a choice. The training's important to you… and despite *everything* I've done to avoid ending up at that damn place, it looks like I'm destined to play my part at Quantico to make sure you get the shot you said you wanted... needed... err, whatever."
"I don't believe in fate," Brennan muttered.
"Look, Bones, after the day I've had… hell, the week *we've* had… I just don't have it in me to have the good ole 'I still don't/I still do' argument about destiny, okay?" Booth said wearily. He opened the beer and took a sip. Turning to her, Booth then said, "Bottom line… there is a high probability that if I didn't say yes, you'd wash out… and since you said this was so important to you… for *you*… I'm doing it."
"But, I didn't ask you to!" Brennan said. "And, more importantly… I don't want you there… I wanted… *still* want to do this by myself, Booth."
"Yeah, well… that doesn't seem like it's an option anymore, Bones… so you're just going to have to deal with it… or resign," Booth said. He then shrugged. "Either way, those are the two choices… and the only two choices."
Brennan's frown deepened, and she resumed her pacing, much to Booth's annoyance.
The next day, Booth found himself following a very convoluted set of directions that a nurse had given him at the front desk. Eventually, he found room 333, and knocked. The lights were on, and he heard a muffled response that he could only take as an affirmative. Pushing the door open, he hesitated only a second before he heard a muted response prompt him to go forward.
"Come in."
Booth, his resolve firmed, nodded once and pushed the door open all the way.
Rose Harding looked a lot better than she supposed she felt. Her leg was still in traction. Her face was pale, but set with a determined grimace. Cuts and scratches had begun to heal, but Booth could tell this was still a woman who was in a lot of pain.
When she saw who her visitor was, she waved him forward. "Agent Booth, please, come in…."
"Detective Harding," Booth said with a nod. He stopped, grimaced, and then said, "Sorry. I meant Agent Harding."
Again, Harding waved him off. "Don't worry about it… old habits and all." Pointing at a nearby chair, Harding said, "Take a seat?"
Booth looked at the chair, and then moved to sit. "How are you, Agent Harding?"
"You mean aside from feeling like I got blown up because of a couple of stupid jarheads who couldn't be bothered to check their requisition bulletins?" Harding asked.
Booth nodded.
"Ehhh, I've been better… but, I've been a lot worse, too," Harding said. She gave him a long stare as she said finally, "So, I heard you're taking over my job."
"Yes," Booth said simply.
Harding nodded. "Figures. I spent twelve weeks going through the boring crap, and we finally get to the cool stuff, and I get blown to bits. I've always had the worse timing."
"It is rather bad luck," Booth agreed.
"So," Harding said. "I assume AD MacKinnon gave you my notes and access to my files?"
"Yes," Booth said.
"And, you have questions?" Harding prompted.
"A few," Booth said. "If this isn't a bad time?"
Harding shook her head. "You came all this way… ask your questions."
And, so the pair spent the next two hours going over everything from the way that Harding had attempted to structure the program to her insights on how she saw the trainees interacting with their liaisons. At last, they came to the topic that neither had broached, and Harding, as was normally the case broke the silence.
"So, why don't you ask me that question you've been wanting to ask me for a while now?" Harding said.
Booth was thoughtful as he said, "The question I want to ask… or the question I should ask?"
"Want," Harding answered immediately. "In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm a big fan of the truth and cutting through as much bull shit as possible. Saves time, among other things."
"Okay... why have you been so hard on my partner?" Booth said. "Yeah, she's brusque, and arrogant, and can be one of the biggest pain in the asses I've ever met… and I've met a lot of people over the years. But, you've spent the past three months coming down on her like a ton of bricks every chance you've had."
"Because that's my job," Harding said, sitting up a bit in as much as the hospital bed and her traction allowed. "If I didn't… if I don't do everything in my power to make certain that she can do what she needs to do as a member of the Bureau if she does make it through the Academy… then I'm making two huge mistakes. First, I'm being derelict in my duty. I would be responsible for putting Brennan somewhere potentially, one day, where she would be... and if she screws up, lives could be lost. That doesn't sit well with me, Agent Booth."
"And secondly?"
"And, secondly, you have no idea what it means to me to be a member of the FBI," Harding said.
Booth could read people well enough to know that whatever her second reason was, it touched upon an issue that greatly affected her emotionally.
"This job… this organization has finally let me *do* something in my life that will have lasting, positive effects on our society. I… I haven't been able to say that in a very long time. I take great pride in what I do, and I only want the people who share that opinion to get the privilege of being an FBI agent. Can you understand that? I can't keep every person who doesn't belong in the Bureau out… but I can do *my* best… so that at the end of the day, I can look myself in the mirror and say that no one got in who shouldn't of because of something I did or didn't do when it was my watch," Harding finished.
Booth was quiet for a moment before he said, "I understand what you're saying. What I don't understand is why… why you have to be…"
"Such a bitch in doing it?" Harding offered.
"Well, yeah," Booth agreed. "I mean, I wouldn't have put it that way, but since you did, yeah."
"Brennan… she's an incredibly intelligent individual," Harding began. "But, that intelligence has allowed her to create a… refuge for herself… and that refuge doesn't really necessitate her being pushed out of her comfort zone very often. Part of my job, not just as the training coordinator, but as her liaison, has been to help her crawl out of that comfort zone… even if it's just for a little bit, and expose her to things that will make her grow as a person. Sometimes being the teacher makes you the bad guy to your students. With the very best, and the very worst... well, normally, while you're fulfilling the role of mentor, teacher, assessor... you can't be their friend. You have to be tough, particularly when you have someone like Brennan, who has so much potential to either be spectacularly great or spectacularly disastrous, up and comes along. Now, am I what most people would say is a bitch in how I've done that? Sure. I call things like I see them. I don't think I do people any favors by sugar coating things, as I said… and the opinions I shared with Brennan were because of the fact that I *was* her liaison and that I needed her to know that I knew who she was, where she was coming from, and if finishing the training was her goal, I knew what she needed to do. She could either accept that… grow, learn, and become a very good agent… or not."
"And, so your… brunt approach to talking with her… that has nothing to do with anything... personal?" Booth asked evenly.
At this, Harding sighed and looked away for a moment. She then spun her head back to Booth and said, "Again, I won't lie. When I saw her again during the first day of the training, at the Orientation… I might… I *might* have been dealing with some… personal issues that made my response to her a bit more… intense than I normally would have preferred."
"Personal because?" Booth pushed. Harding eyed him. Booth waved his hands in concession as he said, "Look, I gotta ask so I know what I'm dealing with here."
"All right," Harding said after a moment. "You were there when Graham Legiere died, and so I suppose telling you is easier than someone who's completely ignorant of the situation." She paused, and said softly, "Graham was appointed the Medical Examiner of Iberville Parish about a the same time that I made detective in the NOPD in 2002. We were both young, up and coming hot shots… in New Orleans… before Katrina. Things… as they sometimes do, I'm sure I don't have to tell you… they got complicated. Graham was fun… and sexy… and knew how to show a gal a good time. And, when he was with you, he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world."
"But?" Booth said quietly.
"But," Harding conceded. "Graham… well, like I said, he was fun… and he liked to have fun. We… we were together off and on, seriously, for about a year and a half… but… Graham was a flirt… and liked the ladies… and I didn't want to wake up one day, realize I was forty-five with a mortgage, two kids, and a dog, and wondering whose bed Graham was stumbling out of that morning if it wasn't mine. So… things… were kind of at… a stalemate between us right before the storm. Then Katrina came… and, well, neither of us had any time to get weighed down with personal issues. Then… then Dr. Brennan showed up, she caught Graham's eye… and a few days later, I was giving the order to have a forensics team pull down the skinned corpse of a dead man who, the last time I had seen him, was giving me a kiss goodbye when he left me in my bed a couple of mornings prior to his death."
"But," Booth said, confused, "I thought you said you guys were at a stalemate?"
At this Harding laughed. "Emotional/relationship stalemate? Sure… sexual stalemate? Never." Her words seemed to confuse Booth even more as she said, "Come on, Agent Booth… you can't tell me that given the same situation… the heat… the raw aggressiveness of what we were dealing with during the post-storm days… I mean, even after Katrina, as Graham was found of saying, the Big Easy is still the Big Easy…."
Still somewhat unclear as to how Harding and Legiere's relationship could have been maintained sexually given what she had told him, Booth felt a need to move forward and so he said, "And Dr. Brennan?"
"And Dr. Brennan was a new, fresh, pretty face… who had never sampled the charm that was Dr. Graham Legiere… a target like that… he couldn't help himself… and… what can I say, I got jealous… and then Graham was dead… and she wasn't-" Harding said, a bit of emotion coming into her voice. "You do things you never thought you would when it has to do with the person that you love, Agent Booth," Harding said. "I'm not sure if you can understand that or not-"
"I do," Booth interrupted... and said perhaps more than a little vehemently.
Harding looked at him, recognized someone who knew *exactly* of that which she spoke even if they didn't share the details. She nodded once... felt the emotions choke her again... and, for a moment looked away, trying to swallow the knot that had formed in her throat before she said, "Look, I've done the best I could by Dr. Brennan. Did I treat her with kid gloves or baby her? No. That's just not how I do things. Have I ever, once, in any way acted to sabotage her chances to do what she needed to do to finish the training? No. I've done what I could, but, ultimately, the final result will be all on Brennan."
He thought on Harding's words for a moment and then nodded, "You know… I understand why you've interacted with her in the way you have… don't take that to mean that I like it or agree with your methods, by the way... but I do understand."
"Then," Harding said. "You can do things your way as long as you do your job to help her to get where she needs to go… or not go, as the case may be. Just do what everyone says you've always done... your duty, Agent Booth. If you do that... then both you and Brennan will be fine.""
"Do you think she'll finish?" Booth said, finally speaking the words that he had been thinking for a very long time, but had yet to voice to anyone… not even Brennan.
Harding thought for a moment and then said, "I don't know. I didn't know when she started twelve weeks ago… and I still don't now. But, I do know… if she can… she will be a very good agent… and if she can't… then I think it's honestly the best possible outcome for all involved. This training… it's her test, Agent Booth. It's a measure of who she is, who she can be, what she can do, what she can't do… and to what lengths she go to get to where she is supposed to be. No matter what, I do firmly believe that."
Nodding, Booth said, "Thank you for your insights, Agent Harding. You've given me a lot to think about…."
Harding took Booth's hand when he extended it by way of saying good bye. He was almost to the door when she stopped him.
"Agent Booth?"
"Yes, Agent Harding?"
She smiled, and said, "Good luck… no matter how this all turns out… I think it's safe to say, you're gonna need it."
-TBC-