Author's Note: Not entirely sure where this chapter came from. I was listening to some music, and I suddenly decided to give this a try. Hopefully it works out...

I do not own Bones or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who is reading/following/reviewing this.

Lives in the now: Thanks. I agree that it's a little depressing to see how uninspired those prizes are now. It feels like a little part of my childhood is gone...Anyway, yeah, I've often thought that it's the details that show just how much Booth and Sweets have in common and thus, it's fun to find ways to explore that. :)

DrHoneyChuckles: Yeah, I don't have an account, but I do follow JFD's Twitter. He has some great tweets out there. :D And when I saw that one, I knew that I would just have to write something about it eventually...

Charlotte Thornton: Yeah, that's something I love on the show: how the little conversations can reveal so much about them and the things that they share. And yes, I remember (much like them) when Cracker Jack prizes were at least interesting and fun for at least brief periods of time...unlike nowadays, sadly...

Peanutmeg: Thanks for the review. I guess that will be a common thing among these snippets: they'll never be of just one flavor. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one as well.

D: I did get your review, thank you. :) I agree that the prizes were even cooler back in the 50s and 60s, having seen some people's collections of Cracker Jack prizes on the internet. Sometimes a tiny part of me thinks that maybe one or two of the people involved in making the newer prizes actually do want them to be fun...but I think they are overshadowed by those who are just too lazy to care these days...

Chapter Two—Pieces

"Lancelot, why don't you ever want to talk about work?"

Sweets looked up from his soup bowl and into the brown eyes of the woman sitting across from him at their diminutive dining table. Before that moment, they were both enjoying bowls of homemade soup and sandwiches while the intern went over her day at the Medico-Legal lab, working with Doctor Brennan. The psychologist had been listening attentively as he could, although he couldn't deny being somewhat distracted by some work of his own that had recently come up. The time had been going by pleasantly.

That is, until Daisy had blind-sided him with this question. Sweets choked down his latest mouthful of soup and cleared his throat.

"I talk about work," he insisted. "Remember last night? I was telling you about how Booth and I were talking to this guy whose brother had…."

"I'm not talking about the stuff you do with Doctor Brennan or Agent Booth," Daisy said, cutting him off. "I mean the stuff you do. That you do on your own." The therapist stirred his soup a little with his spoon.

"I…I guess I didn't think that you would find it very interesting, Daisy," he answered. "I mainly just spend time in my office. Besides, the therapy sessions I have with my patients are confidential, so I shouldn't talk to you about that anyway. So once you put that aside, there's not much to talk about, really."

"I know you can't talk to me about your patients," Daisy replied. "But why would you think that I wouldn't find your day interesting? Is it because of what Doctor Brennan has said about psychology?" The intern reached across the table and laid her hand onto one of his.

"Doctor Brennan simply does not have the benefit that I do of being able to spend so much time with you," she smiled. "If she did have so much time to talk to you about, she would be able to learn the same thing that I have: that psychology can be very interesting when seen through a brilliant perspective." Sweets grinned in response to her. They both ate a few more bites of their food, and the therapist was starting to think that the topic had played itself out.

That is, until Daisy started to speak again.

"You still haven't answered my question, Lancelot," she said. "Why don't you ever want to talk to me about your work?" You hardly ever do anymore."

Sweets sighed and finished up the last bites of his meal before standing up and starting to clear the table. Daisy rose and did the same, halting the discussion until they were both done and had moved to sit together on the couch in the front room. Sweets felt Daisy wrap her arms around him as she waited for him to find his words.

"I…It's not….It's not always easy for me to do," Sweets finally said. "Some of the stuff I do at work…" Daisy squeezed his hand.

"I know," she said. "You're so brave, but you're sensitive too. You see such horrible things…all that death and despair. I know that you can't just brush it aside."

Daisy looked up to see a pensive look deepening onto Sweets' features and she gently kissed his temple.

"Don't worry," she said. "All of that, that sensitive heart, that's part of the reason why I love you. And besides, I know how you feel. I see those things too…in the lab, working with Doctor Brennan. You just have to let it go, Lance."

"How Daisy?" Sweets asked, turning so he could face her. "How am I supposed to do that? I mean…how do you do that?"

The intern looked into her lap for a moment before raising her head.

"When I see a set of remains on the table, I see them as parts, as pieces of a larger question," she said. "Who was this person? What happened to them? What should be done now? Each bone is a piece of the answer. Each detail I learn from them is also a piece. Eventually, I can gather all the pieces in front of me, and the question will be solved."

Daisy went back to holding his hand, her eyes intense and serious.

"And after the question is solved, I put each piece away while I catalog the bones," she continued. "With each step, I let go of my thoughts and feelings as I go. It's not always easy, and sometimes it takes a while. But as long as I work through a piece at a time, eventually it will happen."

"I don't know if I can do that Daisy," Sweets frowned. "I mean, you study remains on a table. You have something tangible to work with. Me…I have to get inside a person's head, and sometimes…sometimes it's a place that I don't really want to go to. How can I let that go?"

"Even if it's in your mind, it's the same thing, isn't it?" she asked. "You look at evidence from a crime scene, you examine details from forensic reports, and you use those details to build a profile, right?"

"I suppose so," the psychologist replied.

"So, it's just a matter of taking each piece of that profile apart and putting them away somewhere," she said. "Take it apart so that it's no longer that horrible place, but just a collection of pieces that you don't need to sort through anymore."

Sweets let out a deep breath and fell back against the couch, closing his eyes.

"I…I'd like to give it a try," Sweets said, his eyes still closed. "But what if I can't? I just don't know if I can separate all of these things from each other."

"It won't be easy at first," she said. "I know that when I first started examining bones, I would always jump on the most obvious things, the things that I thought were more important. But over time, I learned to appreciate all the details, not just the ones that scream for my attention. Metaphorically speaking, of course."

Daisy leaned over and rested against Sweets, his arms pulling her close to him in response.

"Go ahead and try, Lancelot," she said. "Tell me about a case. It doesn't have to be one you're working on right now. Just pick something and try to finally put it to rest."

Sweets hesitated. Opening up and sharing those dark corners of his mind were things that he had never relished doing and that he usually worked hard to avoid. He couldn't deny being scared despite the reassurances that Daisy was giving him.

'Just try…Even if it won't always happen or work…just try…'

Sweets opened his eyes and slowly related a case to her that he had worked on a couple of years ago. It ended up taking hours before he got it all out, and he frequently found himself rambling in the details. But when it was over, he was surprised to feel a strange sort of detachment.

'Is this what Daisy feels?' he wondered. 'And…is this what I want to feel too?'

"Feel any better?" she asked him with a smile, when he was done.

He wanted to be able to give her a real answer, to tell her everything.

But some pieces of his heart and mind needed to remain hidden….and Sweets rarely questioned if that could ever change.