"When we don't know who to hate, we hate ourselves." ~Chuck Palahniuk (Invisible Monsters)

Chapter 10: In Another Land

Sweets found Booth in the kitchen. He was leaning against the counter; jaw set tight, arms crossed and mind deep in broody thought.

"You and I need to talk." Sweets announced with all the authority he could muster.

"Yeah, I know."

"Sit?"

Booth reluctantly joined Sweets at the table and looked around the room, "Where is everyone?"

Sweets knew that 'everyone' was code for Mrs. Brennan-Booth. "Not sure about everyone but I know Brennan is upstairs talking to Charlie and then she was going to go over the final reports on Lou's autopsy with Cam again. She was hoping that there might be something they missed."

"I'm never not amazed by her." Booth mused aloud. "Who cares this much about her husband's ex-girlfriend?"

"A person who can accept that… that every experience we have leads us to who we become?"

"That's her."

Sweets smiled, "You're lucky, Booth. I know you've always thought that but I'm pretty certain after this you're gonna know it."

"Me too…" Booth rubbed his chin and then asked, "What do you need to know?"

Sweets looked at the notes in front of his, "How long were you with the unit before Charlie got there?"

"Not even two weeks."

"When she got there, how was she received by the men?"

Booth looked at Sweets as though he was a moron, "How do you think she was 'received', Sweets? 35 guys who hadn't seen any other women except for two medics who only had eyes for each other and then Charlie shows up? She was received really well."

"Any of them pay special attention to her?" Sweets couldn't stop himself from then muttering, "Other than you, I mean."

"That's enough of that." Booth informed him sternly.

"Sorry, it just popped out." Sweets straightened himself in his seat and asked, "But is there anyone who stands out in your mind as paying too much attention to her?"

Booth leaned back in his seat and tried to remember that time in his life, "No. I mean, I don't remember. They were all pretty excited when she got there but they knew to cool it around her."

"That have anything to do with you?"

"Maybe…Probably." Booth rubbed his forehead, "I made it pretty clear that she was off limits before she even got there."

"But that rule didn't apply to you, Master Sergeant?" Sweets asked with a touch of sarcasm in his voice.

"It did…until it didn't and…" Booth pinched the bridge of his nose, "Why is this important?"

"You know why. Something happened over there. Something that caused one of these guys to become obsessed with Charlie. You may have nothing or everything to do with that."

"So, this is my fault?"

Sweets looked up and shook his head, "You don't listen to me, do you? I just said you may have nothing to do with this."

"Or everything." Booth huffed and went to the refrigerator, "Great, the congressman doesn't have any beer."

"Charlie said there was beer in the basement fridge."

"When did you she say that?"

Sweets raised his shoulders, amused with Booth's whining, "When she was giving up the lay of things. She wanted us to be comfortable. You know we're all kinda stuck here, Booth."

Booth sighed, "Yup."

Sweets looked up at the large, white dry erase board that he had brought up from the basement to keep track of all the clues they were slowly uncovering and then looked back at Booth, "Who knew about you and Charlie?"

"No one." Booth replied quickly with certainty.

"You're sure? I'm imagining those were some close quarters."

"We were discreet."

As Sweets opened his mouth to ask how Booth could be so certain about his discretion, Charlotte came padding into the kitchen. When she saw that they were obviously deep in conversation, she turned on the ball of her foot to leave the room.

"Where do you think you're going?" Booth called out to her back.

She turned, "Uh…I don't know?"

Booth pushed out the chair across from him with his foot, "Sit." When he saw the look of alarm on her face, he softened his tone, "Please."

Reluctantly, Charlotte sat down and pulled her knees up to her chest, "What are we talking about?"

"Afghanistan…You…Booth." Sweets thought those three words were enough.

"Shouldn't we be talking about the rest of the unit? We know that Seeley didn't kill Lou and kidnap Clay."

"The other 34 men are who we're focusing on but the connections you made over there are paramount to the investigation and since I have you both here and you are connected by that time, I want to start with you two." Sweets explained.

"31." Charlotte corrected him.

"What?"

"We keep saying 34 men but in reality it's only 31. Three of the guys who were there when I got there are dead. Bowers and Elliott were killed in action and Kerzner died when he got home."

Booth looked up from studying the wood grain of the table, "I didn't know about Kerzner."

"Suicide. He shot himself over a year ago." She explained flatly.

"No one told me."

"Do you talk to anyone?" She saw 'no' in his eyes and sighed, "That's why no one told you."

"Good point." Booth didn't purposefully keep his distance from the men he served with but he also didn't seek any of them out either.

"Ok, so 31." Sweets stood and changed the number on the white board. "Still a massive number for this situation."

"There have to be other guys we can eliminate." Charlotte rubbed her temples.

Booth scoffed, "How are we going to do that? They're all suspects."

"I just think that we can take a few off the board by evaluating their character – we knew them, Seeley."

"Apparently we didn't, Charlie." He felt anger flushing his face and he decided to roll with it for the moment, "You need to realize, recognize that this psycho was watching you closely enough to know about your tattoo within a week of you landing. Get angry, please!" Booth stood with enough force to knock his chair over.

"You want me to get angry?" She matched his movements and another chair hit the floor, "You want me to sit here and gnash my teeth and cry about the f*cked up situation I'm in? I fail to see how that's gonna bring my husband home!"

"Well, I can tell you that being as calm and collected as you've been isn't helping. What does it take for you to get upset, 'cause the more I think about it, I've never seen you get truly upset about anything as long as I've known you!"

"Maybe that's because when we were together, I decided that one crybaby in the relationship was enough!"

Sweets stepped closer to the table, "This isn't helping."

With the exception of a menacing glare directed at him, the other two occupants in the room ignored Sweets.

Booth planted two firm hands on the table and leaned toward her, "I'd rather be a crybaby and show some emotion than be an ice cold robot with absolutely no emotion whatsoever!"

"Stop this. Now."

All three heads turned to look at the source of the tight, angry voice coming from the doorway. Brennan stepped in the room and pointed to Booth.

"You. Go into the dining room."

"Bones…I've got this under control."

"Clearly you do not. You are being a jackass, Booth. I might understand it but I certainly do not have to put up with it. Now go." Her disappointment was palpable as she watched her husband slink out.

She turned her attention to the other two occupants in the room. "Now you…" She said, pointing at Sweets. "You need to learn a little more tact. And your mediating skills are atrocious." Sweets ducked his head, refusing to look Brennan in the eye.

Then she wheeled on Charlotte. "And you, you…I know that you are scared and hurting and probably feeling some sort of senseless guilt. But you fail to realize that Booth is a good man who is very uncomfortable with this situation, and while I have every sympathy in the world for you, I will not stand by and let you speak to him like that. I know that he is being harsh, but it comes from an honest place and I will take care of it. But for now…please, just let him deal with this in his own way. And if he gets out of line again, I will snag it in the bud."

"Nip it. Nip it in the bud, Dr. Brennan."

"Shut up, Sweets."

November 15, 2011 11:18 PM EST: Sidewalk outside her apartment, Washington D.C.

I never thought I'd live to see the day she'd put down roots.

Her very own apartment.

I'm torn over this change in her life. On one hand it makes my job so much easier now but I also have to wonder if this is what is best for her. I know that it's what's best for Arcilla.

That seems to be all she's cared about since August - what he wants.

How do I get her to change her focus?