A/N – As always, a big thank you to everyone who's reading along. You guys rock.
You know, I think Wendell may have always been my favorite intern but after the finale, I've got an epic crush on him. LOL I had to expand his part in the story just a bit because of it.
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This is one of those days when he thinks he probably just should have stayed in bed.
They're no closer to catching their killer than they were yesterday morning, or the day before that, and every minute that passes without a real lead makes him feel more and more like a failure. He doesn't know how many more times he can talk to the victim's family and friends before they start to think it too.
Staying under the covers would have been a much more appealing option.
Particularly since his very favorite forensic anthropologist was tangled up in said covers with him and she definitely guaranteed more fun that a dismembered murder victim - that was damn sure.
She's not on the platform when he storms back into the lab, but he tells himself that's just as well. He should get his mood in check before he sees her again – it's best for everyone involved.
Of course, if they were different people, maybe he could suggest sneaking off for a quickie to blow off a little steam. But Bones is too consumed in her work right now for such indulgences and he's a little too leery of getting caught with his pants down around the squints to really entertain the idea.
It does make for a nice fantasy, though, as he jogs up to the lounge for a few minutes of peace and quiet. Wendell's up there, holding a cup of coffee and looking vaguely disturbed. Booth doesn't really mind, though, because he likes Wendell and, while he'll never tell Bones, he's rooting pretty hard for him to get the position as her assistant. He's a good kid, worked hard for everything he's gotten and seems to inhabit the real world more than most of her interns.
And he doesn't ever feel like the kid's speaking Greek whenever they have a conversation.
"Hey, Wendell."
The kid's head jerks up in surprise and there is vaguely panicked glaze to his eyes when he looks at Booth.
"Agent Booth. Hey. How's it going?"
"It's going," Booth says wryly. "Have you seen Dr. Brennan around?"
Wendell immediately looks away, fidgeting in his seat and tapping his fingers against his coffee cup.
"Um, the last I saw she was in her office with Angela… they were having a pretty intense conversation. I mean, that's what it looked like anyway. You know. From the hall."
Booth laughs humorlessly.
"I'll bet," he says. "I think I'll hang out here a little longer. Make sure the coast is clear."
He takes a seat opposite Wendell and leans back. God only knows what kind of things Angela's dragging out of Bones now. Ignorance is bliss, though, so if he sits here and pretends that she's not telling her friend that he asked her to wear the Wonder Woman costume a few weeks back, then she's not and he can get through the damn day.
"Well, it was earlier this morning," Wendell tells him. "So I bet they're probably finished by now…."
Booth shakes his head.
"Trust me, man. It's best that I not take any chances."
Wendell seems to be contemplating the steam rising from his coffee cup, his gaze fixed firmly downward, but he nods a bit, like he just might feel Booth's pain. There is some consolation in that, Booth thinks. That he's not the only man cowered by the thought of what two women might spend their time talking about. Because really, the possibilities are fucking terrifying.
He shakes his head, refusing to even go there.
"Hey, you see any of the Mets-Phillies' game last night?" he asks Wendell. "Howard and that monster shot off Rodriquez in the tenth? I rewound that beauty on Tivo a couple of times…"
Wendell nods again, finally looking up.
"Yeah. Great game. The Phillies are still a couple of games back, though, right?"
Booth shrugs.
"Doesn't really matter. The Mets will collapse eventually. They always do."
Wendell nods once more, but he seems pretty distracted and Booth wonders if he's feeling the pressure of the case as well. Bones can be pretty demanding so he's probably got his hands full right now. Booth sighs in frustration, tipping his head back.
For all their sakes, he wants this damn case finished. Pronto.
Across the table, Wendell clears his throat and Booth opens an eye to look over at him.
"Um…" the kid says, fidgeting again. "You know, I think Dr. Brennan's great. Really. She's brilliant and she's a great teacher and I've learned so much from her. I just… she's great…"
Booth shifts forward in his chair and opens both eyes, frowning in confusion.
"Excuse me?"
Wendell's eyes widen, like he's said something maybe he shouldn't have, and he practically strangles his coffee cup between his hands.
"No. Nothing I didn't mean…" he stutters. "It's just that, you know…" He runs a hand over his hair and forces a smile. "Dr. Brennan's really great. That's all."
Booth cocks his head, studying the kid – he's slightly flushed and there just might be a sheen of sweat across his forehead. Maybe he's got a thing for Bones. It's not uncommon for students to get the hots for their teachers, and in this case, who could blame the kid when Bones looks the way she does. Booth can't exactly blame Wendell if he's developed a little crush, but he can't figure out for the life of him when the kid would tell him about it.
It's kind of strange, and Booth has never really seen Wendell as strange before.
"She is," he says warily. "But I don't know what –"
"Booth!"
Cam's trotting up the stairs then, her heels tapping out an annoying, syncopated rhythm, and just like that, Wendell bolts from his seat, leaving his coffee behind.
"Gotta go," he says, breezing past Cam without so much as glance. "See ya later."
Booth watches him go, utterly confused about what's transpired. He shakes his head as Cam leans against the table.
"You know, I always used to think that kid was pretty normal," he tells her. "Now I'm not so sure…"
"Wendell?" Cam asks distractedly. "He's fine." She waves her hand dismissively. "Listen. There's something I wanted to talk to you about."
He nods.
"You guys find something?"
He leaves out 'finally' because that would probably be pretty rude and he knows Cam doesn't respond well to that kind of thing. It's how he feels, though, which is why he's so cranky to begin with.
"No, no," Cam says. "We're still waiting for Hodgins to get back to us on the sediment and Brennan's still looking at the cut marks on the cervical vertebrae. We should know something soon."
Booth bobs his head.
"Okay. Good."
She nods back at him, but she is utterly distracted, tapping her foot almost impatiently. He notices then how frazzled she seems, almost as off as Wendell was, and he frowns.
"What's up then?" he asks. "You okay?"
Cam crosses her arms against her chest, letting out a long, slow breath, and tilts her head. She's looking at him like she's trying to get a good read on him, like she doesn't quite trust him – it's the cop in her, he supposes, but he hates being looked at like a suspect so he crosses his arms against his chest and looks back at her as blandly as he can manage.
"I'm just…" Her tone is soft, almost solicitous. "Look, this is about you. How are *you*?"
He grimaces.
She sounds like his fucking high school guidance counselor.
"I'm fine, Cam," he says. "Why wouldn't I be?"
She laughs, high and nervous, and taps the toe of shoe against the floor again.
What the hell is wrong with everyone today? That's the real question.
"I don't know," she says. "No reason. I just thought that maybe there was something you might want to talk about so…"
She gestures aimlessly with her hand and he squints at her hard, like that might help him understand what she's going on about.
"No," he tells her emphatically. "There really isn't. I don't know what…"
He trails off when it suddenly hits him, what has her so rattled, why she seems so concerned.
Nearly three months ago, he had a brain tumor cut out of his head. He's been back in fighting shape for so long now that it almost seems like it didn't happen, like he hadn't had life-threatening surgery, and for him, it's easy to act that way. Because he feels good, his scans have all been clear since, and his memories of the surgery and recovery are hazy at best – there's really not much for him to dwell on.
He knows, though, that it's not the same for everyone else. For the people who care about him, like Bones and Cam and the others, it probably isn't that easy. They remember all too well sitting in hospital waiting rooms and seeing him hooked up to monitors and machines and waiting for him to open his eyes again.
Those aren't the kind of memories that are easy to shake.
So he smiles softly, patiently, and shrugs.
"I'm fine, Camille. Really. Went to my neurologist just last week and got a clean bill of health. So you can quit worrying, all right? Seeley Booth is just fine."
Cam nods, returning his smile.
"That's great," she says. "That's great news. But actually… that's not really what I was talking about…"
Just like that, he's confused again and his brow furrows as he wonders again what the hell she could possibly be referring to."
"It's just that sometimes friend have big things happen in their lives," Cam says. "Good things. Happy things. But they feel like they can't tell their friends about them because they're worried it'll make their friends feel bad or uncomfortable. But the thing is… they can tell their friends. They should. Because when good things happen, you should share them with the people who care about you. Because they'll be happy for you…"
He shakes his head, almost laughing.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
She drops her hands to her hips, regarding him almost sternly.
"What am I talking about?" she repeats. "I'll tell you what I'm talking about… you and Brennan. Finally ending that ridiculous 'We're only partners, why would anyone think we're anything more' charade. That would be what I'm talking about."
He stiffens, panicking immediately. They're alone in the lounge, but he looks around frantically to make sure there's no one coming up the stairs who might overhear.
"Who told you that?" he demands. "Where would you get an idea like that? I mean-"
"It doesn't matter who told me," Cam says. "What matters is that you didn't tell me yourself. That apparently you had no intention of telling me. Of telling any of us."
"Camille, listen. I don't know why-"
"Don't even bother denying it, Seeley. I can see it all over your face. I'm actually kicking myself for not noticing it sooner…"
He lowers his head, jaw clenched tightly. He feels cornered and annoyed and he resents having to defend himself when it comes to anything having to do with Bones. Cam may be his friend, but he doesn't owe her all the secrets of his heart and he doesn't know why she'd even ask.
Bones would probably tell him he's being irrational. There's no need to be so secretive about the whole thing, she'd said. It's not a big deal.
But the thing is, it is a big deal. It's the biggest deal and he doesn't really care if no one else can understand that.
"It's my life," he tells Cam, his voice low and serious. "It's *our* life. And I don't see why we need to broadcast all the details of it at work. It's private."
"Oh, give me a break," she laughs. "We're not just the people you work with and you know it."
He meets her gaze stubbornly, refusing to budge. But she's also been able to read him well, so she pulls out the chair next to him and sits down, ready to try a different tact.
"Why are you hiding it, Seeley?" she asks gently. "Why are you sneaking around like you're having an affair with your secretary or something? There's not a person who knows you both who'd begrudge you a moment's happiness. Why are you acting like this is something you need to keep a secret?"
He shakes his head immediately.
"That's not what… that's not why we're keeping it quiet." He blows out a frustrated breath. "It took a really long time for us to get to this point, okay? It took a lot. I can't help being protective of all of it, wanting to keep it to myself. And I'm not gonna be careless with it just to satisfy curiosity around here, okay?
Cam nods thoughtfully.
"I get that," she says. "I do. You've always been a very private person. I know that. But I also know how you feel about her, Seeley. How she feels about you too. That's a rare thing… I don't know why you wouldn't want to go around shouting it from the rooftops…"
He shakes his head stubbornly – because the truth is that he has felt that way, like he wants to tell the whole damn world, but he refuses to admit that Cam might be right, that he's been as foolish and irrational as Bones would tell him – and stands.
"This is really none of your business, Camille. So if you don't mind, let's just forget we had this conversation, okay?"
He takes off down the stairs before she figures out a response.
This won't be the end of it, he knows, but at least he can delay the inevitable for a while.