(After 'The Change in the Game')

I don't own Bones.

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After she completed examining the remains found at the waterfall, Brennan called Angela and asked her to come to the examination room when she had time.

Intrigued, Angela entered the room and found her friend staring at a portion of the skull. "Did you need me to do a reconstruction of the skull?" She could see that parts of the skull were missing, but she'd worked on skulls in similar condition and she had programs that could help her fill in the missing pieces.

"Yes, Dr. Edison did a good job assembling the skull using what he had, but as you can see there is a portion that is missing. I was told that Hodgins looked for the missing pieces but was unsuccessful." Placing the skull back on the table, Brennan turned to stare at her friend. "The victim is a Caucasian male, between the ages of 25 and 35. After you reconstruct the features, you may look for someone who was reported missing having medical issues. His left leg is shorter than his right leg . . . I am fairly certain he had Melorheostosis, but he may not have been officially diagnosed with the affliction since it is considered rare and his physician may not have been familiar with his condition."

Placing a pair of gloves on her hands, Angela placed the skull on a tray and sighed. "A young man . . . I hope I can find out who he is . . . being dumped in a river is just . . ." Shaking her head, she left the room with the skull. Sad for the victim, she was determined to make sure this young man was identified and he got justice.

Once she was alone, Brennan picked up the left femur and stared at the thick bone. "You were in constant pain . . . I hope you didn't kill yourself or were killed because of your malady. Even if you did have Melorheostosis there were treatments available that could have lessened your pain."

Oooooooooooooo

Back from a meeting, Booth found a package on his desk and wondered why. He knew he hadn't ordered anything lately. Moving across the room, he stood next to his desk, moved the package closer and read the labels. "Cool." The return address was from a store in Crete and Booth wondered if this was the present that Brennan had promised him. After he opened the box, he found a container of olive oil. "Wow, 101 ounces of cold pressed high end extra virgin olive oil . . . Kolymvari, Crete . . . Okay, way to go, Bones."

Entering Booth's office, Sweets noticed the container in Booth's hand. "Agent Harris asked me to drop off my psychological profile of the person who killed Bobby Weist . . . He looked it over and asked me to pass it on to you. He thinks one of his suspects fits the profile." After he placed the folder on the desk he sat down and waited for Booth to look it over.

"Good." After he placed the olive oil back into the box, he moved around his desk and placed it on the credenza behind him. Seated, he flipped the folder open and began to read it.

Curious, Sweets pointed at the box. "Isn't that olive oil? Agent Christakis ordered something like that last year from Greece. His container was about that size . . . He said it was pretty good, but expensive. He wanted to use it when he made his Christmas feast for his family and friends. It's a tradition in his family.'

Not looking up, Booth nodded his head. "It's olive oil from Crete. Bones bought it for me."

"Nice . . . Can you use that much before it spoils?" He never bought olive oil, but he knew that Booth was proud of his father's mother's Italian ancestry and he loved to cook Italian food.

"Once it's open, I have about six months before it will start to go bad . . . it can last longer than that, but age affects the taste." After he finished reading the profile, he looked up at his young friend. "I'll talk to Harris about this when he gets back from an interview he's doing on the Metzger case."

Since Booth didn't seem to be in a hurry to make him leave, Sweets decided to ask about Brennan. "So, Dr. Brennan is back . . . that plane crash she was in was probably scary stuff . . . Maybe I should talk to her about it." He knew that Brennan hated psychology, but it wouldn't hurt to make sure she hadn't developed any fears about plane travel.

"Don't . . . she's fine." Booth shook his head. "That accident happened three weeks ago and I talked to her everyday while she was gone. It didn't shake her up . . . Bones said the only reason four people got hurt was because they didn't follow the rules when they slid down the chute when they evacuated the plane. They tried to bring some handbags with them and well . . . they got bruises for their trouble . . . one sprained an ankle . . . She said everyone else followed procedures and they were fine . . . She didn't get hurt and the crash didn't really impress her that much. It's not like the plane actually crashed . . . another plane clipped the tip of the wing of the plane she was on."

"Well . . . I may check on her just in case she'd like to talk about it." Sweets didn't see any harm in making sure Brennan wasn't having any issues.

Since Sweets refused to take his advice, Booth didn't care if the man's feelings got hurt. "Okay, you've been warned."

Aware that Booth was done with the conversation, Sweets stood up. "A plane crash isn't something you just brush off . . . It won't hurt to talk to her and it might even help her."

His attention back on the pages lying in the folder, Booth knew that he was going to hear about it if Sweets bugged his partner, but he'd deal with that when it happened.

Slightly annoyed, Sweets placed his hands on his hips. "I am a trained psychologist and I do know what I am doing."

Waving his hand, Booth didn't look up.

Slowly shaking his head, Sweets knew it was time to leave.

Ooooooooooo

Certain he was doing the right thing, Sweets knocked on the doorframe of Brennan's office and waited for her to look away from her PC.

Her attention diverted, Brennan turned to look at whoever was at her door and knew that her time was about to be wasted. "Yes?"

Taking that as an invitation to enter the room, Sweets walked over to the chair in front of Brennan's desk and sat down. "Welcome back . . . I hope you were successful in Crete."

Her annoyance growing, Brennan was uncertain why Sweets was in her office but suspected that it was because of the incident with the plane she was on during her trip. "I was successful . . . I am busy and don't really have time for mindless chit chat."

"Mindless . . . I came to see you to see if you're okay . . . your plane was damaged while you were in it and that can be a traumatic experience." He noticed the look of anger on her face and chose to ignore it. "I just want to check in with you and make sure that you were able to travel well when you came back and that you didn't have any issues while traveling in your plane."

"I didn't have a traumatic experience . . . The wing of the plane was damaged and the only injuries occurred when four passengers refused to follow proper procedures when evacuating the plane. I wasn't hurt and though I would have preferred that my plane not be damaged it was and of course that fact did upset some people I know, but I assured them that I was fine and that is the end of it or it should be." Since she really hadn't been affected by the incident, Brennan felt that Sweets was trying to make more of the incident that was warranted.

Not sure if he should continue, Sweets decided it was his duty to help Brennan if she needed it. "Plane wrecks are traumatic and sometimes that trauma is delayed and . . ." This look of outrage on Brennan's face made him pause. "Okay, you say you're not traumatized, but down the road, if you do start to have issues traveling on planes then please let me help you. I know of several techniques that . . ."

Before he could finish, Brennan stood up and leaned on her desk. "I have lived through traumatic events in my life and having the wing of a plane clipped by another isn't remotely one of those events . . . I am not traumatized and I know that in the future, flying on a plane will not be an issue . . . You mean well, I know that, but I do not need help."

Standing, Sweets knew that Brennan would leave the room if he didn't. "Alright . . . I just wanted to offer you my experience dealing with trauma if you needed it. You say that you don't and that's a good thing . . . I didn't come here to make you angry. I came here because I am your friend. I hope you know that."

And she did know that. "Yes . . . I can assure you that I am fine and I am not having issues traveling. I am not having issues sleeping . . . I am not having any issues at all due to the plane having an accident." Sitting back down, she turned to face her PC. "Thank you for caring, but I am fine."

Since their conversation was over, Sweets nodded his head and left.

Oooooooooooo

Sitting in the diner waiting for their order to be served, Brennan sipped some of her iced tea and placed the glass down on the table. "Sweets came by and tried to offer me unwanted and unsolicited help. He is under the impression that I am suffering from some kind of trauma because of the incident with the plane I was in when it landed in Spain." She stared at Booth and wondered if he had something to do with Sweets' visit.

Aware that his partner was angry, Booth leaned his arms on the table and shook his head. "Hey, don't blame me for his visit. When he told me he planned to talk to you about the plane accident, I tried to tell him you're fine and that you weren't traumatized, but he decided to ignore me. You know how the kid is . . . he likes to tinker with us. It's up to us to tell him no and to tell him to back off . . . When I called you and thanked you for the present I guess I should have mentioned that he might come and see you. At least you would have been prepared . . . Sorry."

Since Booth denied involvement in Sweets' visit, Brennan decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. "I don't care for psychology and I definitely don't like to be tinkered with."

"I don't like it either, but the kid doesn't listen to me and does what he wants." Booth leaned back while Jane placed his plate on the table. Once Brennan was served, Jane left and Booth picked up his roast beef sandwich. "You handled it and that should be that."

"I hope so." Brennan picked up her fork and tasted her vegan burger. Frankie had added it to the diner's menu recently and she found it to be delicious. "Psychology is a pseudo-science. Psychologists make guesses then try to say they're backed up by facts when they're not."

Since Booth didn't disagree with her, he continued to eat his sandwich. He had warned the boy not to bother his partner and he'd been ignored. He just hoped Sweets did back off and leave Brennan alone.

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