Universe 1 (August 2004)
The Gemma Arrington case was about to be closed by the detectives in New York because they had given up trying to find her killer. Her mother met with Booth to plead with him for the FBI to take up the case before New York released her daughter's remains for burial. Booth knew that his friend, Cam, was in town, and since she was currently the coroner in New York, he asked if she could get him the file so he could take a second look at it. She told him that she could do that, but she had no confidence that he would find anything that hadn't already been examined many times over. "You know the definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over expecting a different outcome." She suggested he partner up with a forensic anthropologist she knew of in DC who had a reputation for solving "unsolvable" murder cases. Booth scoffed at the idea. He told her, "Thanks anyway. Forensics don't solve crimes, cops do." Cam laughed and shook her head. "Well, I tried." She turned and walked to the elevator. Booth watched her go and wondered if he was being hasty by turning down her offer. He started to follow her to the elevator, but as he got there, the doors were starting to close. He stuck his arm in between the closing doors and they popped back open. "Hey, hey, hey. What's that scientist's name?" Cam's smirk said that she knew she had won this battle. "Temperance Brennan."
Universe 2 (August 2004)
The Gemma Arrington case was about to be closed by the detectives in New York because they had given up trying to find her killer. Her mother met with Booth to plead with him for the FBI to take up the case before New York released her daughter's remains for burial. Booth knew that his friend, Cam, was in town, and since she was currently the coroner in New York, he asked if she could get him the file so he could take a second look at it. She told him that she could do that, but she had no confidence that he would find anything that hadn't already been examined many times over. "You know the definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over expecting a different outcome." She suggested he partner up with a forensic anthropologist she knew of in DC who had a reputation for solving "unsolvable" murder cases. Booth scoffed at the idea. He told her, "Thanks anyway. Forensics don't solve crimes, cops do." Cam laughed and shook her head. "Well, I tried." She turned and walked to the elevator. Booth watched her go and wondered if he was being hasty by turning down her offer. He started to follow her to the elevator, but as he got there, the doors closed. He turned and headed back to the bullpen and his desk. "Nah. I work better alone. I don't do partners."
Universe 1 (August 2004)
Booth reluctantly went to meet this scientist, who he had no confidence could do any better than the New York detectives. But Booth was a gambler, and he usually won. So he decided to look at this as a gamble for Gemma Arrington. If this scientist could give her a chance for justice, and to finally rest in peace, he would agree to work with her on this one case. When he walked into the lecture hall and saw her across the room, something clicked inside and he was knocked slightly off center. Maybe fate brought her into his orbit, and his first impression was that fate had done him a very big favor. When he walked up to her he realized she was even more stunning up close. He asked a question about her techniques in examining a body and then introduced himself. "Special Agent Seeley Booth from the FBI." She looked intrigued. "I'm Doctor Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian Institution." He was still feeling slightly off balance, but displayed an outward air of confidence. "Do you believe in fate?" She scoffed. "Absolutely not. Ludicrous."
The first couple of days, he was still skeptical of her value to the case, but found himself incredibly attracted to her - and she was direct enough to acknowledge that the attraction was reciprocal. Because his intention was to work with her on just this case, he planned to explore those feelings once the case was closed. But that happened sooner than he expected because he was ordered to fire her after she (quite rightly, he thought) slugged the judge (twice) who was the chief suspect in the murder. Booth found her actions incredibly hot, and after sharing copious amounts of tequila that evening, he told her she was fired. She wasn't particularly perturbed, because she leaned toward him and said in a low, sexy voice, "Hey. If we don't work together anymore, we can have sex." He stared into her eyes, his expression not changing. "I'll call a cab."
They stumbled out of the bar into the rain and Booth motioned to hold the cab. "Listen. I have something to confess." Brennan's response was not what he was expecting. "Is it the fact that you're a direct descendant of John Wilkes Booth? I already know that." Booth shook his head trying to break through the tequila haze. "Wait a second. How do you know that?" "From your bone structure." He asked her to please keep that under her hat for now. Her eyes sparkled waiting to hear what he had to say. "What I wanted to confess was that I have a gambling problem, but I'm dealing with it." Her eyes softened. "Why did you feel you had to tell me that?" His brown eyes were boring into her baby blues, just inches away. "You know, I just, um, feel like this is going somewhere." Her mouth inched closer to his and her voice dropped down to a whisper. "Why do you think this is going somewhere?" His mouth moved even closer to hers and he matched her whisper. "I don't know. I just…I feel like I'm gonna kiss you." He didn't finish the last word because she closed the gap and they shared an intense open mouth kiss. As the kiss deepened, and he started to draw her even closer, the cabbie honked his horn. Brennan broke away from him, laughing, heading into the cab. She told him that they weren't sleeping together that night because…tequila. Booth stood in the middle of the street in the pouring rain watching her cab drive away while she waved at him through the back window.
The next day, her assistant, Zach, delivered to Booth all of the findings they had, including the proof that the judge was the murderer. Booth was told to bring Brennan back into the case to tie up the loose ends, but the two of them just couldn't stop sniping at each other after the aborted attempt at intimacy. It got so bad that the last time they saw each other, they got into a shouting match, she slapped him across the face, told him he was stupid, that she hated him, and that she would never work with him again. As she stormed away, he shouted, "Who asked you?" It took them a year before they could be in the same room together. But she left her mark on him. In the next few weeks, he decided that he really did need to get his gambling under control, so he joined Gambler's Anonymous. Out of spite, he had gone on a gambling spree the night that she slapped him, but that was the last time. By the time he saw her again, he had his one year medallion. And the other influence she left on him stemmed from the conversation they had while inspecting the theatre where they believed the murder had taken place. She talked about how institutions like the FBI constrained individuality, but that the free thinkers, mavericks, rebels, found ways to declare their distinctiveness. The night they got drunk on tequila, he showed her his new tie - one that looked like a standard boring FBI tie, but had a drawing of a pin up girl on the underside. He was buoyed by her approval. After giving up the gambling, he started to add more touches to his rebellion. His style eventually evolved to a wide range of distinctive ties, some art deco, some 50s style. And he began wearing the most colorful striped socks he could find.
Universe 2 (August 2004)
Booth had Gemma Arrington's remains released to the FBI lab and they spent the next week going over everything while Booth spent the week doing the shoe leather detective work. He was able to find very little more than the New York detectives had uncovered, but he had developed a prime suspect - a prominent DC judge. He leaned heavily on the lab to find anything they could to pin the murder on the judge, but they came up empty handed. With a heavy heart, he closed the file, declared it a "cold case", and released her remains to her mother so she could finally be laid to rest. Rest, but without the justice he thought she deserved. He came into the office the next morning looking rough because he had spent the entire night in an illegal after hours pool hall, drinking heavily and placing bets on games of pool, the hockey game they were watching, how many times the bartender said "Pal" over the next 15 minutes. All someone had to say was, "I'll bet you…" and Booth would lay down his stake. When the sun came up, he was sat at the bar getting as much coffee down his throat as possible to sober up before going to work. But he was up $1000 for the night, so it was a win. Plus, he was an expert at getting himself together after such a night and had become pretty good at fooling his coworkers. On days like this, he managed to keep himself together all day and crashed when he got back to his apartment. The next morning, he was good as new. Until the next all nighter in the pool hall, which seemed to be happening more and more.