The Face with Two Skeletons

By: Tropicwhale

Disclaimer: Hehehe I wish.....

Author Talk: Hey so anyone know the signs of boiling on bones? Because otherwise I'm defaulting to saltiness......don't ask why but I am.

Chapter Four

Zack looked over Booth who suddenly seemed angry and frustrated. He hit play on TiVo and focused on the game and his ice cream. After a while, Booth sighed heavily and Zack looked up to see Booth scrubbing his face with both hands, his beer on the coffee table. "Are you going to be okay to drive? Because you can always sleep here and leave in the morning."

"I'm not drunk."

"I merely meant that you seem both tired and frustrated. These things are not conductive to a safe drive."

"Could you sound any more like a manual?" Booth seemed very frustrated at Zack. Zack opened his mouth to ask why that was but Booth cut him off. "I'm sorry Zack. That came out wrong. I'm fine. I'm sorry." Zack took Booth at his word.

"It's alright." Zack went back to watching the game. Booth sighed again but settled more into his seat to gulp his beer. Booth's mood got darker and darker as time wore on and Zack wondered if he should have even offered beer in the first place. Alcohol was proven to lower inhibitions and enhances emotions whether it was happiness or anger which led to many bad situations for the intoxicated person which never would have happened if there was no alcohol in the first place. Zack wanted to ask what was wrong but he didn't even know where to start. Interpersonal relationships were not his strong point and it wasn't like he was close to Booth in the first place. Perhaps a direct approach? Booth always seemed to appreciate a more direct approach with little to no scientific terminology involved. Zack looked over at Booth "I know it's probably not my place to ask-"

"Then don't." Booth didn't even glance away from the television screen. Zack stopped. He looked down at his empty ice cream bowl. Perhaps this was a bad idea. Inviting Booth up to his apartment for the game and a beer had seemed like a good idea when Zack had offered it. After all they had had what sort of could be counted as fun at the Diner and in the car or rather Booth seemed to enjoy Zack's company a little more. But Booth had merely drawn the short straw. He was doing what he thought he had to so that Zack didn't sneak out to go back to the Jeffersonian to work on the woman's bones he had left behind. Zack was upset by that. He wasn't sure why he was upset but that didn't change the emotion. Booth had gone above and beyond what the others had done in his position but it was still just duty, a chore to do before going home for the night. 'Make sure Zack doesn't collapse on our watch'. It was upsetting to Zack that he was a burden to the people he cared about. Zack stood and went to wash out the bowl. He suddenly didn't feel like watching the Blazers and the Pistons. It seemed contrived to him, the whole situation like an experiment that had a variable that wasn't accounted for during the formulation of the hypothesis. He cleaned up the kitchen of the ice cream toppings and wiped down the counter. "Are you seriously cleaning on a Friday night?"

"Yes. Apparently." Zack snapped.

"Why?"

"Because my kitchen's dirty and it's not like I can't see the game from here."

"Why are you so angry all of the sudden? I mean I know the Blazers are getting their ass kicked but-"

"We were having fun. I'm angry because you're suddenly angry and I'm almost certain it is because you drew the short straw." There was a moment of absolute silence except for the sounds of the basketball game where Zack just cleaned his kitchen and Booth watch him.

"What makes you say that?" Zack stopped to glare at Booth. He stopped being mad.

"I can't remember." Which was a lie but it seemed silly to tell the truth. "You were angry and I just I assumed that you were angry for having to watch me when you could be doing something else more productive."

"You assumed." Booth said blankly.

"Yes."

"Isn't assuming guessing?" It was apparent that Booth saw this as humorous when his eyes crinkled at the corners and the edges of his mouth edged up. Zack's head reared back on his neck as he reassessed the situation.

"Are you making fun of me?"

"Not in a mean way I promise. Don't pay any attention to my black mood. I'm…being an idiot."

"Why?" Booth paused, considering.

"It's nothing you did, Zack."

"I still would like to know why. That way I can figure out the appropriate thing to say next time to remove you from that state of emotion." Zack was back in scientific mode.

"Zack-"

"Please?" Booth sighed, resigned by the fact of Zack's curiosity.

"It was something our waitress said to me while you were in the bathroom back at the Diner."

"Did she imply that she found you sexually attractive and indicated an interest in having sexual intercourse with you?" There was a moment that Booth took to decipher that statement.

"NO. No. She implied that you and I were dating."

"Why would that make you angry?"

"I'm not gay."

"Gay as in homosexual, correct?"

"Yes Zack." The familiar edge of irritation colored Booth's voice.

"Just clarifying." Zack metaphorically waved off the irritation in the pursuit of information. "Why would that make you angry? For someone to call you a homosexual?"

"Because I'm not. Would you like it if someone called you dumb?"

"I have an IQ of over one hundred sixty-three. I know that statement is false."

"Yeah, but-"

"Are you worried her statement implied that you were homosexual and you are not secure enough in your sexuality to ignore it?"

"What? No! I like girls, Zack."

"So do I."

"See? So if someone-"

"I like boys as well; if, by like, you're implying sexual attraction then yes I like boys and girls. I don't see anything wrong with it." Booth had frozen. He had stared at Zack with something like shock and horror. "What?"

"You're bisexual?"

"I've had a lot of sex."

"It means that you-"

"I know, Agent Booth. It was a joke."

"Some joke."

"Are you uncomfortable with this information about me?"

"What? No. I'm not uncomfortable. I'm just….surprised. You surprised me again."

"Oh. Okay. Now that's cleared up shall we return to watching the game?"

"Uh. Yeah." Zack went back and sat down next to Booth who scooted further away from Zack and closer to the end of the couch.

"You are uncomfortable. Why?"

"Honestly? It was how I was raised. I don't think two men should necessarily be together." Zack looks over at Booth.

"But science has shown that there are biological reasons for homosexuality and bisexuality. It's either a DNA variation or something chemical that occurs in the womb. Not to mention sexual release is sexual release whether it is for procreation or not. Do you attempt to procreate every time you have sex? Or do you wear a condom?"

"That's different."

"How so? I don't understand your logic. Explain it to me."

"I-it just is."

"Really? Because it seems to me that it's the same. You're Catholic and Catholic doctrine states that any act of sexual intercourse that isn't expressly toward procreation is considered sinful. So, whether or not you believe that homosexuality is wrong you also have to consider that any time you use a condom or your female partner uses a birth control pill then you are, in fact, being sinful. So it reasonably follows that you are in the same situation as I am just with different variables." Booth had nothing to say to that. Zack turned his attention back to the Blazers game. "Besides, only people who are ashamed make excuses and I'm not ashamed."

"Jeez, you and Bones…some things are just-" Booth made an angry gesture with his hands that made it look like he was strangling somebody. "They're just not socially acceptable behavior across the board."

"I see. Are you sure society is in the right if it stops people from living their lives to the fullest and happily? I could list statistics of suicide cases where it turns out that the individual was homosexual and couldn't make allowances for their natural sexual orientation with society's rules. I'm not comfortable with making this assumption but, hypothetically, what if the woman whose bones I was examining in Limbo today was a homosexual? She or someone else drowns her because of society's rules against her orientation and her child is left motherless. According to several statistics children that are raised by their birth parents have a greater emotional maturity and satisfaction in life then when-"

"Okay! I get it. You're right. If that was the case, which you made a point that maybe it wasn't, then that woman would have been better off alive and living with another woman for her child's sake than drowned in some swamp."

"Thank you for conceding the point. It was very mature of you." Booth stood and walked toward the kitchen. "The beer is in the second shelf on the left side in the door of the refrigerator."

"Thanks." There was a few seconds of silence in which Zack could hear the refrigerator door open"What if the kid had abusive birth parents?" Booth's voice sounded like he was thinking of something he hadn't thought of in awhile. Zack considered the question as the Blazers stole possession from the Pistons.

"Then that child would be better off living with adoptive parents that cared and wanted the child. There's a movement in Westernized cultures for homosexual families to adopt due to the fact that they can't necessarily have their own children and-"

"I know. You have a good point, Zack. You win." Booth got another beer out of the refrigerator and closed the door.

"I know I have a good point however I wasn't aware that we were in a contest." Booth grinned at the television screen as he sips his beer.

"Although you liking men explains the purple bedroom." Zack looked over at him confused as Booth returned to his seat, sipping at his beer.

"Purple induces a sense of calm in me. Also, it also is one of the few colors I can look at without thinking about corpses. As much as I love my job, thinking about work is not conducive to trying to fall asleep. It has nothing to do with my attraction to men." Booth smiles at that. "What?"

"I think that I should drink around you more. You're funny when I've got a couple of beers in me."

"Okay?"

"Just say 'okay' and mean it, Zack."

"Okay."

"Good boy."

"Yes, I am." Booth snorted, amused. "With your bulk you shouldn't be intoxicated after two beers."

"I'm not drunk, Zack. Did you just call me fat?"

"No. You are a large human being. I'm not. It's scientifically proven that it would take a lot less alcohol to get someone my size drunk then someone of your size."

"You're not that small."

"Compared to you I am."

"Yeah that's true. Angela could probably kick your ass."

"I am not so sure. I am deceptively strong." Booth snorted in disbelief as a player made a jump shot and missed. "I am." The rebound made it into the hoop.

"Whatever Zack."

"I bet that I am in better shape than you." Booth snorted again. "Do you have a phlegm problem? You keep snorting."

"No. I just don't believe you."

"I see." Zack stood up and started to take off his shirt. Booth did a horrified double take and jumped to his feet to grab Zack's hands and hold them still.

"What are you doing?"

"Proving to you that I am strong."

"You can't think of another way to show me that besides stripping?" Booth's voice definitely had a squeaky panicked note to it that he wasn't willing to admit to.

"I'd rather not lift weights this late at night without stretching. I have a big game tomorrow." Zack couldn't understand why Booth would have a problem with his stripping off his shirt unless it was some issue with Zack's bisexuality and what the waitress from the Diner had said earlier to Booth. "Do you not what me to take off my shirt because I am bisexual and you are afraid that somehow, in some highly improbable circumstance, someone will find out that you were in my apartment while I was half-naked and so think that you might have a physical interest in males as well?" Booth didn't let go of Zack's hands and glared at the scientist. It should be noted, in an abstract sense, that Zack was feeling aroused by this manhandling by Booth.

"I hate when you do that."

"What? Use logic to-"

"Shut up." Zack obeyed. Booth growled after a second and let go. "Fine." He ground out. "Strip. What do I care." Zack continued to take off his shirt and minutely considered Booth's reaction if Zack were to remove his pants and decided that, if Booth was this uncomfortable with Zack showing just his torso, it would probably be unwise to see how far he could push the federal officer who would most likely armed and was apparently homophobic. Zack finished unbuttoning his shirt and removed it. He looked up at Booth to see what the reaction of the other man might be.

Booth blinked and his head reared back a little. Zack was pale, like a fish's belly, and he was most definitely not the proud owner of six-pack abs but his stomach was flat and obviously well-muscled. His arms and chest were practically hairless but well-toned. Zack shift a little bit and muscles rippled under his skin. The only flaw that Booth could see was a long white jagged scar that ran along Zack's left bicep then continued across his chest. Zack seemed to notice Booth looking at the scar and crossed his arms in a way that the scar was hidden but his chest and arm muscles bulged as a result. Booth was annoyed but he still had to admit that Zack was ripped like Jesus. "Agent Booth?" Zack asked after a good few minutes of Booth staring at him in something like confused envy. Booth immediately snapped out of it. Zack seemed to interpret Booth's facial expressions as a certain level of disgust at Zack's half naked form. "I know. I'm better looking with my clothes on." Something in Booth felt bad at Zack's scientific tone for some reason.

"You're not that bad to look at." Zack shifted uncomfortably but didn't uncross his arms. Booth continued to stare. A few more minutes passed.

"Booth?"

"Yeah?"

"The game's over and the Blazers won 84-83. Do you want to watch something else or go home?" Okay, so not a few minutes and more like the majority of the second half of the game….schematics. Booth wondered how Zack could recite the game score while obviously watching Booth…stare at him.

"Um." Booth thought outloud.

"Of course, if you are too tired then you can very easily stay here for the night. I would not mind. The couch pulls out into a bed. Booth, blink." Booth blinked and shook his head to clear it.

"Sorry, my brain can't compute why a kid like you has muscles like that."

"I work-out every day. Also, I'm not a goat."

"I know it's just squints aren't suppose to work out every day."

"Why? It's unhealthy not to work out."

"But squints are all about working out their minds, not their bodies."

"The mind is part of the body. When one suffers they both do. I feel I should note that you're going to lose this argument too, Agent Booth."

"Yeah. I'm starting to see that pattern too." Booth said wryly and collapsed backwards onto the couch, groaning. He rubbed his eyes as if tired.

"I can get you a blanket and a pillow." Zack offered. Booth smiled from beneath his hand. Booth heard Zack walk away before he could answer that he didn't need it but his eyes also seemed to have the same idea as Zack and stayed closed. Maybe Booth was more tired than he thought. He had had a long week. A moment later the footsteps returned and Booth was covered with a blanket he didn't really feel because he was fast asleep. Zack went into his bedroom and took off his shoes, socks and pants and slipped, naked, into his bed. Zack preferred to not wear underwear as it was binding and restrictive to his scrotum and his penis. Also, he had had one too many experiences with wedgies when he was younger so chose to simply go, as Hodgins called it, commando.

Booth woke that Saturday morning to the sounds of the shower running and the door buzzing. He got up and pressed his thumb to the com-link, not really awake yet. "Hello?"

"Hey…is Zaddy there?"

"Who?" Booth scratched an itch on his stomach.

"Zaddy…. Zack Addy. He lives there. Who are you, pops?" Booth decided that he didn't the tone of the man whose voice was coming over the intercom.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth of the FBI, son." There was moment of silence and then-

"Is Zack okay? Nothing happened to him, right? He's not in any trouble, is he?" The tone of the voice was completely different, worried.

"What sort of trouble could Zack get into?"

"You're the Fed whose in his apartment…you tell me." Oh. Booth got it.

"Zack not in any trouble. He's in the shower. I came over last night to watch the game with him. I work with his boss, Dr. Brennan."

"Ah. Drew the short straw, huh?"

"Yeah, how did you-" At that moment the water to the shower shut off. "Hang on. He's getting out now. A moment later Booth could hear the other door to that bathroom open into the bedroom. A few minutes passed and Zack came out of the bedroom in a pair of pale orange shorts and a matching orange basketball jersey with his hair wet and a towel draped over his shoulders to see Booth at the intercom.

"Who is at the gate?" Zack asked.

"I didn't ask."

"Who's there? Zack raised his voice so that he could be heard. He didn't bother to cross the apartment because Booth still had his thumb on the 'speak' button.

"It's Zerbrowski. You ready yet?"

"I overslept. I'll be down in three minutes and forty-five seconds approximately." Zack half-shouted.

"Okay." Zerbrowski seemed fine with Zack's specific way of speaking which only served to further Booth's confusion over the sudden apparent mystery that Dr. Zack Addy had become.

"You can take your thumb off the button now, Agent Booth." Zack pointed out. Booth blinked. He seemed to have forgotten that the appendage was holding the line open. He immediately moved his hand. "If you would like to come and watch the game you are certainly welcomed to it." Zack walked back into the bedroom and reappeared shortly with his sneakers and socks. He sat down on the ground to put them on.

"I-"

"I would also understand if you want to go home." Zack looked up at Booth and it struck Booth how young Zack was.

"Where is it? I think I'm going go home and take a shower and get a change of clothes but I can meet up with you later."

"Alright." Zack went over to the intercom and hit the button. "Zerbrowski?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's the court?"

"Rock Creek Park. We're playing the Devils today."

"Alright, thank you. I'll just be another minute." Zack went to the kitchen and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen out to draw a map as well as write down the address of the park for Booth. "Here" He said, having ripped the sheet from the legal pad. "We'll be there. The game is at eleven. You can let yourself out." Zack then left. Booth was left to stare after his with a piece of paper in his hand. He then found his shoes under the end table and went down to his car and left for home.

Author After Talk: Booth.........his sensibilities were saved by the.........cloth of Zack's pants, weren't they? :)

Tropic