"Well, Bones", said Booth, as he sipped his Scotch, "I'm not gonna be a Deputy Director."
"What prompted you to make that decision?" She sat next to him on the sofa.
"I've been sitting in with Jamison, kind of getting a feel for the job. The big crisis today wasn't a crime spree or a terrorism alert. It was how much paper to order and who to order it from so we could balance the quarterly budget. I'd just be a fancy pencil pusher."
"I see." Brennan sipped her wine. "I thought you wanted this promotion. You said it was the next logical step...more money, less wear and tear…."
Booth interrupted. "The stress of being in an office all day counting paperclips and making duty rosters would wear on me more than being in the field. Besides...there's another reason."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I realized I gotta be involved in the actual crime solving stuff...working with you or with Aubrey or with someone else. I can't just sit around and watch somebody else do it. I have to help people."
"I know. You're a very empathetic person, Booth. Sitting in an office away from the action would be quite detrimental to your mental health."
"I'll work in Major Crimes for a few more years, and then take my wife's good advice and try to get on at Quantico. If I do that, though, I won't get a raise, and I'll still have some wear and tear. Are you okay with that?"
Brennan smiled. "I think it's an excellent decision. I think it will make you happy, and that will make me happy."
"You're a great wife, you know that?" Booth pulled her close. "I'm the luckiest man who ever lived."
"There's no such thing as luck…"
He kissed her. "Oh, yeah….there's luck…"