(The Geek in the Guck)

Anne1585 wanted a little more of this theme using Gordon Wyatt.

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I don't own Bones.

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Changing professions at my age usually is a big challenge, but in this case it's been quite wonderful. I'm in my element in the kitchen. I always was, but I had a doctorate in Psychology and I couldn't let that go to waste now could I? I gave it my all until I had nothing left to give and once I graduated from culinary school, I knew that I wouldn't be happy unless I was running my own restaurant.

I do miss my former profession sometimes, but since I'm not one hundred percent free of that responsibility that isn't a problem. Much to my surprise, I still have a client that persists in using my psychological help even though I'm no longer practicing. It's just enough to ensure that I want to continue on as a Chef.

I knew about his troubles, it would be impossible not to. It was in the news for weeks . . . months really. Imprisoned for murder . . . I was shocked and I didn't believe it for a minute. I made a few phone calls and afterward I knew something was terribly wrong, but no one would really explain what was going on. I picked up quite a few clues from the people who should know what was going on and believe me the fear emanating from them was quite frightening.

In the end it was resolved and he was back at work where he belonged, but he was scared and scarred. The man I knew was changed and it worried a lot of people. As soon he was released from prison young Dr. Sweets came to see me and he left me with a great deal of angst. That angst only increased when that poor young man was murdered.

It took the exposure of a hidden conspiracy to bring everything to a head. Powerful people were incarcerated for malfeasance of office, murder, theft and treason. I was shocked at the depth of the conspiracy, but proud that it had been uncovered by a fine group of people. They were all heroes and most of them came through it unscathed. I say most of them.

Seeley Booth bore the brunt of the attack by Durant's people. His honor had be expunged on CSPAN. He'd been attacked in his own home, almost murdered, jailed, held in contempt by his fellow agents . . . really, most men would have broken under that kind of assault. And perhaps he did.

Once Sweets was murdered, I worried about Booth to the point of distraction. I couldn't idly stand by and let the man flounder and I knew that was exactly what he was doing. Sweets had confided in me before he was killed. He'd told me that Booth's trust was greatly diminished. He was so distrustful that his circle had shrunk to his wife and a few friends at the Jeffersonian. That was a bad situation indeed. The man needed to be able to trust those he worked with or it was going to get him killed. No man is an island, especially when it comes to law enforcement.

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"Agent Booth, it's so good to see you again." Gordon Wyatt stood next to the table Booth was sitting at and placed his hand on the Agent's shoulder. "Thank you for coming to see me . . . I see you have coffee. Would you like something else? I just took several pies from the oven."

Not sure why Gordon wanted to see him, Booth decided he might as well have a piece of pie while he waited to see what the man wanted from him. "Yeah . . . sure."

Waving his hand, Gordon caught the attention of one of his waitresses and ordered a slice of pie for Booth and himself as well as a glass of iced tea. After that he sat down across from the Agent. "I was sorry to hear about Sweets. He was a fine young man."

Booth slowly nodded his head. "Yeah, he was family."

The sadness in Booth's voice was unmistakable. "Yes, he was . . . I talked to him the day before he died . . . he was worried about you."

Since that news wasn't new to him, Booth remained silent and sipped his coffee.

Not surprised that Booth wasn't being forthcoming, Gordon knew he would have to work to get what he wanted. "Yes . . . he told me that you don't trust anyone now . . . well except for Dr. Brennan and a few of the people at the Lab . . . he was afraid that you were making it difficult to do your job as head of Major Crimes . . . you must know that if you don't trust the people who work for you . . . that work with you, you're placing yourself in danger."

This conversation was exactly what Booth had been afraid of and he was tempted to leave. "Why is this your business? You're a Chef aren't you? You've made that pretty clear to me in the past . . . you don't practice psychology anymore . . . you cook for a living . . . why don't you just do your job and I'll do mine."

"But that's the point." Gordon leaned forward on the table. "That's exactly the point. You can't do your job if you can't trust the people working for you. You know that. You need backup when you're out in the field."

The waitress interrupted Gordon and placed a plate in front of each man and a glass of tea in front of the Chef. Once she was gone, Gordon picked up his fork. "You know I'm right . . . Sweets said he'd found someone you could trust . . . James Aubrey . . . Sweets vetted the man. Have you given him a try?"

Furious at Wyatt, Booth was tempted to leave, but he knew that he needed to talk to someone about his situation besides Brennan and who else was there? "I've worked with him for a couple of cases. Bones thinks he's okay and that I should trust him too."

"And you trust Dr. Brennan, so what's the problem?" Gordon cut off a piece of the French Silk pie and slid it into his mouth.

Booth shook his head and stared at the slice of pie on his plate. "Bones isn't a people person . . . she could be wrong and then . . ."

Gordon waited, but Booth didn't continue. "But she isn't is she?"

Trying to put off answering, Booth sipped more of his coffee and turned his attention to the pie slice. Not a fan of pudding filled pie, Booth wrinkled his nose. "I like fruit pie." Cutting off a tiny piece he placed it in his mouth and decided he could eat it. "Aubrey seems okay . . . he wasn't at the Hoover when I was . . . he asked to be transferred to the D.C. a few months ago . . . he started a couple of weeks before I came home."

"So he's not tainted." Gordon pressed Booth. "Sweets and Dr. Brennan both vetted him for you . . . you need someone as backup Booth . . . that isn't an option, not if you want to work as an investigator . . . is that it? Do you plan to stay behind your desk and delegate?"

Irritated at Gordon's persistence, Booth placed his fork down next to his plate. "Look . . . I could do that, but I won't. I'm a damn fine investigator and I'm going to keep doing what I've been doing . . . I let Aubrey work with me the last two cases and . . . he did a good job. Bones is my partner, but I can use Aubrey when she's in the Lab . . . we have a child and Bones is trying to stay out of the field when she can . . . we don't want to risk Christine becoming an orphan if we're both killed . . . as for the other agents at the FBI . . . they're going to have to earn my trust . . . they betrayed me . . . they knew me and they betrayed me anyway. I . . . that's not easy to forgive."

"No I imagine it isn't." Gordon was relieved that Booth was going to allow Agent Aubrey to back him up. "Those agents were tricked into believing you were a murderer, Agent Booth. They were victims of Durant . . . everyone was manipulated to believe what Durant wanted them to believe . . ."

"They know me!" Booth interrupted the Chef. "They know who and what I am and they betrayed me. They weren't interested in what I said, what Bones or Caroline said . . . She was a victim too. Caroline didn't deserve to be fired. Thank God she got her job back and Bones . . . my God she was almost killed at the house trying to be my backup . . . Bones was my backup because I couldn't trust anyone else." A tear slid down his face. "I could have lost her."

"But you didn't." Gordon knew that Booth was mourning the things done to him and to his wife, to his friend Sweets and that was good. This was probably the first time Booth had let himself really mourn. "She helped get you out of prison. She and the Squints helped break open the conspiracy and clear your good name. It's amazing . . . the job you all did to expose Durant . . . it's just remarkable . . . and you have your life back. You need to let the past go and enlarge your circle. You'll be forever in danger if you don't and you know that. Those agents already know that they were wrong. They know it and they'll always know they let you down."

He was filled with sadness, but talking to Gordon seemed to have helped him at least a little bit. Booth wiped away the tears that had fallen down his cheeks while Gordon talked to him. "I can't forget, but . . . yeah, I know what you mean . . . Bones is my rock . . . she has been for a long time."

Gordon saw the tension in Booth's body lessening. It hadn't completely drained away, but it was a start. "I'd like you to drop by the restaurant a couple of times a week . . . around three when it's quiet like today . . . we can talk. I know I'm not practicing anymore, but . . . well . . . you need someone as a sounding board and I'm capable of doing that. Let me help you Booth . . . as a friend. Let me be part of your circle of trust."

His throat tight, Booth swallowed the rest of his coffee before he replied. "If you want me to . . . I guess I can do that." He picked up his fork and took a bigger bite of the pie. "At least this is chocolate . . . you should serve fruit pie, like peach for maybe blackberry."

"Yes, I probably should." Gordon picked up his fork and took a bite of his pie. "This is very good pie, even if I must say so myself."

Booth chuckled. "At least it isn't whale sperm or was it sperm on corn smut?"

Amused, Gordon laughed. "Not for dessert, Booth. Never for dessert."

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A/N: No Man is an Island – poem by John Donne

No man is an island

Entire of itself

Every man is a piece of the continent

A part of the main.

If a clod be washed away by the sea

Europe is the less.

As well as if a promontory were.

As well as if a manor of thy friend's

Or of thine own were:

Any man's death diminishes me,

Because I am involved in mankind,

And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;

It tolls for thee