This feels a bit...off...to me; am I being too particular (ahem, cough, fishing for compliments, cough)? Anyway, here we have the 3rd part of the snaky triptych. Do tell me how I did!
Booth regarded his partner with a fishy stare. It had been an exceptionally long and crappy night. He'd had to give way (show throat) to Bones and get kicked out of an office as a result, been outgunned in a firefight, shot twice (oh, all right, hers had been a ricochet and certainly not intentional, but still…), killed someone in a clown suit, and he wasn't sure his back hadn't been knocked out of whack when he had to carry Bones. Granted, they had rescued the girl, but the scales weren't quite balanced so far as he was concerned.
His mind kept returning to the last thought but one, however: why, why, why had Bones freaked out so badly with the snakes? She had practically been a damned snake handler in New Orleans a couple years ago, what was different?
"Booth! Stop looking at me like that," she said in a tone that suggested she had already said it at least once. He focused his gaze back on her--she was as big a mess as he was, though without the blood. She had pulled off the tiara when they entered the diner and now it sat on the table near her plate. She still looked hot, under all the dirt and fatigue, though. The top of her outfit--wow. And those legs… Wonderful, he thought again.
"Sorry, Bones." He forked up a bit of pie and savored the taste. God, he deserved it tonight--and the ice cream on the side. Thank God it's Halloween. Only time of year we could come in looking like this and not have them immediately dial 911. "Gotta ask, what was with you tonight?"
"What do you mean?"
"The snakes," he clarified; she flinched.
"What about them?" she asked cautiously.
He leaned back, wincing, and favored her with a lighter version of his interrogation stare. "Well, I don't know, Bones. A couple years ago in N'Awlins," he exaggerated for effect, "you were all over that voodoo guy and his pet snake. Tonight--you completely freak out and act like a girl with a mouse running under her feet. With non-poisonous snakes, no less."
"Non-venomous," she corrected him automatically.
"Same difference to the laymen in the room, Bones. Venom, poison--six of one, half a dozen of the other."
"Six is half--oh, I get it." She sipped the tea she had opted for.
"So?" Now he leaned forward. "What happened? I've been with you for the better part of the last three years, Bones, and I don't remember seeing anything that would have given you a phobia in all that time."
"It wasn't in the last three years," she said quietly. "And I'm a better actress than you realize if you thought I was completely calm with Sam's snake."
"But you had your hands all over it," he protested. "Hell, you were petting it!"
"Systematic desensitization therapy, Sweets might call it," she replied, wrapping her hands about the cup as though for warmth. "And I can stand being in the room with a snake so long as I know it's there." His sharp eyes caught the suppressed shudder that ran through her. "It--helps if they're not hissing, either." She looked down, studying her hands for a moment. "I was terrified, Booth," she finally said. "The only thing that kept me in there was the fact that I was warned; well, that, and I had something to do. Why else do you think you were following me with the phone? I could have had that discussion at almost any time." A more visible shudder ran over her. "It's an irrational fear--or perhaps in my case, an extreme form of a natural fear. After all, that's what phobias are. You should know, given your coulrophobia," she added.
"Can we lay off the clowns?" he growled. The corners of her mouth twitched upwards.
"Ophidiophobia--fear of snakes--is somewhat more rational than coulrophobia," she pointed out. "After all, snake bites are usually painful and sometimes fatal. An unarmed clown generally can't do that much damage to a fully-grown man in his prime. Such as yourself," she added, the smirk growing. "But if you'd like, we can find another topic of discussion."
"Thank you."
Their conversation wandered down the usual paths for a while before Booth brought it back.
"Megan was lucky you were able to overcome your fear," he remarked idly.
"I compartmentalize very well, as you know," she murmured. "And I knew we couldn't allow ourselves to be trapped in that room. There was no cover--and all the snakes, of course."
"You heard Charlie--a snake crawled up the drain and scared her when she was a girl; what caused yours?" He put on his best it's just an innocent question look, coupled with puppy-dog eyes, until she sighed.
"Fine. The bluff notes version."
"Cliff notes, Bones--I think you mean cliff notes."
"Did you want an answer or not?" she demanded, giving him an evil look. "I'd be perfectly content to not talk about it."
"Sorry," he apologized. "I won't interrupt again."
"If only that were true," she muttered very, very quietly. "All right," she continued in a louder voice. "When I was seven, one of Russ's friends dropped a snake on me. An adult Python regius. Ball python," she clarified.
"Russ, huh? Sure you don't know where he is, Bones?" he asked, fist tightening.
"He wasn't involved--not with the snake anyway." Now she smiled slightly. "He was behind some of the other and admittedly rather poor attempts to scare me, however. He and Darren rounded up some rather robust examples of Rana catesbeiana, for example."
"This Darren--he had sisters, probably younger ones, right?" She nodded slowly, a slightly suspicious look on her face. "Don't give me that look, Bones; I'm a big brother myself, even if I had no sisters. I'm just saying I know the mindset. Go on."
"Fine. He was rather disappointed when I didn't scream like his sisters. I've never minded frogs, and the lizards and spiders were quite obviously made of rubber, even when they suddenly arrived on the pages of the book I was reading. I usually just flung them back."
Booth chuckled, enjoying the images that brought up.
"I think Russ told him they wouldn't work and saw no harm in it. What I didn't know and Russ didn't think about was that Darren had this snake. And he was bound and determined to get some reaction--or so I surmised much later on."
"I think I know where this is going. He brought out the snake, didn't he?"
"Yes. Somehow he got it and himself into our tree without anyone noticing. I climbed into the hammock we had, and next thing I know, there's this…thing…half-wrapped about me, and it kept moving." Her fingers tightened on the cup as her eyes dropped. "Hissing in my ear. I didn't know anything about snakes then, and so when it tested the air, I thought it was tasting me. I screamed loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear me. Darren thought it was hysterical," she added flatly.
"I'm sure he did. What happened then?" Booth asked, feeling a new surge of resentment at the moron who dared treat his Bones like that.
"Russ and Dad came running out of the house and Dad nearly strangled the snake in pulling it off of me. Russ yanked Darren out of the tree and punched him. I think he might have broken his nose." There was a touch of satisfaction in her voice at that thought. "The snake disappeared for several days and I wouldn't step foot outside until it was caught. Lastly, Russ and Darren weren't friends anymore." Now her lips quirked. "And if we don't stop talking about snakes, I'm going to bring up clowns again."
He let it go, respecting threat and promise both. Instead, he offered her a wide grin. "Y'know, Bones, I learned something tonight." He waited a beat. "Someone watched too much Lynda Carter when she was a girl!"
"Booth!" Her brilliant flush made the scales even out just a little. Yep, rescued the girl and made Bones blush. Not such a bad date (or whatever), after all.
And the show throat crack...well, I think I've been reading too many fics with the phrase "alpha-male" in it! Gonna happen eventually.
