Circa Man in the Mansion
Gordon-Gordon sat across from Booth at the diner, sipping his tea. "Where's the lovely Dr. Brennan this evening, Agent Booth?"
Booth was in a surly mood. "How the hell should I know? It's not like I keep tabs on her 24 hours a day."
"Oh, come now...surely you know where she might be?"
"She went to dinner with Agent Sullivan." Booth spat out his answer.
Gordon-Gordon probed a little more. "I see...and why do you think she did that?"
"Well, you know, he's got this whole boy genius thing going on. He does woodworking, he's an EMT, he's a Master Sailor, he's an art historian. He claims he can do almost everything under the sun that any woman could possibly find interesting. I mean, yeah, he's not a bad looking guy, and he talks a good game, but when you get right down to it, is he any better than me? It's not like he's some superhero. Maybe I can't do all that stuff, but I'm a good shot and I'm well respected...at least as much as he is. That's why the Jeffersonian wants me to work with them...or at least Bones used to want that. Now she's all crazy over some guy she barely knows just because he knew right off the bat what a scapula is. He wants to open a sandwich shop, for Christ's sake... he wants to sail off into the Caribbean sunset instead of keeping a steady job. Of course, that looks way more exciting than anything I do, but Ms. Logic doesn't seem to understand there's more to life than excitement. I'm intelligent, too. I have no idea what she sees in him. Seriously. He's just an overgrown kid…." Booth paused.
"Rant over?" Gordon-Gordon asked.
"I guess."
"Feel better?"
Booth grimaced. " Not one damn bit."