Mainly because I felt like it, and because a few people have been asking, I'm going to write a kind of prequel to this story (called "Mean") from Booth's POV. It's not going to be very long, but it will explain some stuff and also… Booth's inner monologue (namely the repressed sexual imaginery) is going to be fun to write!!!

*cackles evilly*

*laughs because it's fun to say the word 'cackle'*

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CHAPTER 16

"…I want you two to work properly, and you are going to tell me what Bram meant."

We stood in the small dark observation room, watching Frank through the tinted glass. Booth looked so tense I thought his neck ligaments were going to break (or I would have, if that were possible). I myself wasn't feeling my best, but when we exchanged a glance I still managed to understand without words.

I was going to let Booth talk, and he was going to lie.

Nothing was worth risking our partnership, and Sweets was a part of that nothing. Telling him was not an option, especially because he'd undoubtedly find some twisted way of interpreting it the wrong way.

But here I halted, because really, what was the wrong way of interpreting this?

"Before you get all emotional and angry, Sweets, let me explain and don't interrupt."

"Too late. I'm already angry. I am supposed to help you."

"It's not what you think." I said before I could stop myself.

"Since when have you been able to tell what people think?"

I blanched. I hadn't expected Sweets to aim a cruel comment my way, and I hadn't thought he possessed the tools necessary to wound me.

I had been very wrong.

"You'd better back off right about now, kid." Booth said, stepping toward Sweets in a menacing swagger.

The so-called doctor immediately looked regretful, and much younger.

"Dr Brennan, I'm very sorry."

I didn't answer. I was aware of my lack of social tact in certain situations, which was why I sometimes let Booth help me or guide me in the right direction. Right now I felt flustered and, unable to look either man in the eye, I stared at the floor and tried to contain the deep weariness threatening to overpower me. I knew I could be a bit of a hindrance in some situations, but to actually hear it from someone else made it more real that I would have imagined. A so-called professional, too.

Booth turned away from Sweets in disgust and put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Bones, it's okay." He said softly. "Ignore the idiot. You know what he said isn't true, right?"

"Yes it is. I'm the first to admit that in social situations, I am not the best qualified…"

"You're perfect." Booth said firmly, interrupting me.

"I didn't mean to imply you are bad during social situations." Sweets said quickly. "I'm so sorry. It's just… you and Agent Booth have always laughed at me, always at my expense, and I mean it when I say I understand. But I spent two hours waiting for you to show up for dinner the other day, and you didn't even have the decency to call me and tell me you wouldn't come! After everything I've tried to do… And now… but I apologise. I'm just tired, and I've been sick for a couple of days…"

I nodded, still not quite recovered. Booth looked furious, untouched by Sweet's apology.

"I don't care how sorry you are. We're leaving until you can get your act together."

"You can't. You need to answer my questions."

"We can and we will. Bye, Sweets."

"Look if you leave now I'll have to report this."

I got my voice back rather quickly. "Report what, exactly?"

"The truth. Or what I think to be the truth until you can explain it to me otherwise. I work here, you know. I have an important job."

Booth and I exchanged a glance. I'd never seen the psychologist like this. I hadn't expected this attitude from him, and neither had my partner, apparently.

"Fine, I'll tell you what happened, and you write that down."

"If I believe you are telling the truth."

The atmosphere was antagonistic as Booth spoke.

"Okay, well, here's the thing. You know we caught Bram and that, at the moment, I used Bones to gain advantage of the situation by pretending we were a couple?"

"I was informed, yes."

"Okay, and that like the idiot that I was, I didn't realise I was making the last puzzle-piece click in Bram's twisted mind?"
"Really Agent Booth, blaming yourself for this man's delusions isn't…"

"I said don't interrupt. So anyway, I kind of… asked Bones to kiss me, to convince Bram of what I'd said, right?"

"Of course." He sounded sceptical, but I didn't notice because hearing this modified yet semi-true version of what had happened was making me feel… very… strange, although the word isn't perhaps the most accurate for descriptions.

"And then I kissed her, and we kind of got carried away."
Thankfully Booth knew not to look at me, just as I was avoiding looking at him. Because it was irrational how badly I wanted to shout "I kissed you!"

"Carried away?" Sweets asked, raising his eyebrows. But he didn't look angry anymore. In fact, he looked happy and a bit apprehensive. "So how did that make you feel?"

Booth just gave a short, cruel laugh. "Let's go, Bones."

And we left him, not making the mistake of sharing a glance and letting our lie fall apart.

*

"So you should go to the lab, I'll stay here and talk to Agent Keller, he's the one in charge of figuring out how the hell Stoker escaped from prison. Keller said he'd keep me informed, so..."

"Excellent. Hodgins was working on identifying the knife used for the murder, and I want to go back to the lab anyway."

"Great."

Work now dutifully settled, we stood facing each other, unsure of how to act.

"So… I'll see you tomorrow at the party?" he asked.

"You're coming?" I was surprised, and had mixed feelings about seeing him. Dressing up would undoubtedly bring bad consequences for us, and turn the entire evening into a session of torture.

And yet… I inexplicably felt ecstatic that I had a reason to see him tomorrow.

"Of course I'm coming, Bones! I'm the unofficial official FBI liaison!" he grinned and I smiled back, remembering thick glasses, mummies, and my only infantile indulgence: a Wonder Woman costume.

Just then an Agent I'd seen a couple of times (but hadn't exchanged words with) walked past us. He was shorter than Booth, and thinner. I couldn't help but compare them and inwardly reaffirm my assessment that Booth was a warrior and a true alpha-male. In the middle of a corridor of the FBI (admittedly the same one from last night) I felt aroused. Booth was so…

"IQ alert, IQ alert!" the Agent started saying, laughing at us.

Booth snorted and signalled to me toward the elevator.

"Was he referring to my unusually high Intelligence Quotient?" I asked as we walked, trying to shake inappropriate thoughts from my head.

"Actually… no, Bones. He wasn't."

"What?" I grabbed his arm and stopped him from running away from this one. "Then did he mean? I don't understand."

"You kind of… have a nickname here." He sounded annoyed. "I don't agree with it, and I try to keep them from using it… but Daniels is young, he has a crush on you and his first kill was two weeks ago."

"What nickname, Booth?"

"IQ."

"Yes, I understood that. What does IQ stand for?" His eyes flashed with amusement, and I punched him lightly on the arm. "Tell me, Booth."

"Ice Queen."

I surprised us both by smiling.

"Really."

He laughed.

"Yeah, Bones. Ice Queen."

"But you don't think it's accurate?"

"Of course not. Queen isn't enough."

And that was how he ruined our moment.

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Sorry this was kind of short, but the next chap is going to make up for it.
I promise.

Review, review, review, review…

Oh, you hadn't heard of learning by repetition?
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