Author's Note: The inspiration for this came while I was re-watching Seasons Three and Four recently on DVD. While watching, three questions formed in my mind:
1. How did Sweets go from someone Booth considered a possible murder suspect to someone he trusted enough to help with Parker?
2. How did Cam learn to not see Sweets as suspicious and actually want his advice?
3. Was Sweets not telling Bones the truth about Booth not dying just an experiment or was there something else to it?
This story explores the possible answers to these questions in a series of missing scenes from the episodes. This one starts at the end of The Verdict in The Story.
I do not own Bones or any of its characters. *sigh*
Irritating Insight
Doctor Lance Sweets sat in the Royal Diner by the window, and was picking at his lunch instead of eating it. He kept staring outside and fidgeting in his seat.
Just a couple of hours ago, the trial for Max Keenan, Doctor Brennan's father, had completed. To everyone's amazement, the jury found him not guilty. Sweets shook his head; if anyone had told him at the start of this trial that Max would actually get away with Kirby's murder, he would have considered them prime candidates for therapy. Yet here it was: Max was free and off celebrating with Russ and Brennan.
Everyone else from the Jeffersonian, Cam, Hodgins, Zack, and Angela, who thankfully they had released from jail, had joined in the celebration at the Founding Fathers bar. Originally, Sweets had planned on going too, but he noticed that Booth kept staring at him and giving him odd expressions. When Cam asked him if he wanted to come along, Sweets gave an excuse of work, and made a discreet exit.
Now after only an hour of work, he was here trying to eat some lunch since he hadn't had much that day so far. But it was hard for him to enjoy food while he was trying to sift through everything in his mind.
Suddenly, he heard the sound of a chair scrapping along the floor. He looked over to see Booth sitting down across from him.
"Hey Sweets, why didn't you join Bones and everyone else for the celebration?" he said, stealing a couple fries from his plate. Sweets averted his gaze back outside.
"I uh…I had some things to do at the office," he said. "Then I got kind of hungry so, uh I came here." He glanced back to see Booth nodding at him.
"Yeah right, busy huh?" he said. "You mean like starting that new book of yours?" Booth then flagged a waitress and ordered a burger and fries of his own. Sweets turned red at Booth's question.
When Booth and Brennan had told him, in this same diner no less, that the Bureau had split them up because of the trial, Sweets panicked. Over the last three months, he felt like he had made real progress with them. They were more willing to discuss any issues that they had with each other, and the Bureau seemed satisfied with the reports that Sweets gave them.
On a personal level, Sweets felt himself becoming closer to them and, by extension, their co-workers at the Jeffersonian. He knew it was a bit questionable for him to get so personally involved with the lives of two of his patients. But Brennan and Booth and everyone else at the Jeffersonian were just so…different, so extraordinary. The normal rules didn't apply, and Sweets couldn't help but be drawn into their world. Besides, getting close to them seemed to be the only way he able to build a therapeutic relationship with them.
But was it just about therapy at this point?
"About that," Sweets finally answered as the waitress left with Booth's order. "It was just a proposal. I haven't informed the Bureau of my idea. So don't feel obligated to accept if you or Doctor Brennan don't want to do it."
"Uh-huh," Booth said still giving him a look. Sweets had recently learned to recognize that look: Booth was analyzing him like he would a suspect.
'Great, he's treating talks with me like an interrogation,' Sweets thought. 'And I'm sure that I'm doing a fiercely wretched job at hiding anything from him.' The two of them sat in awkward silence for a little while. Soon the waitress brought Booth his food. He thanked her, and he took a couple bites before leaning toward Sweets.
"What kind of a stunt were you trying to pull in that courtroom?" he asked his voice grave. Sweets flinched.
"What do you mean?" he asked, nervous.
"Don't," Booth said. "Don't try to dodge me with your questions or your 'shrinkiness'. Be straight with me." He jammed a couple fries into his mouth and finished them before leaning closer yet.
"Why did you say the stuff you did to Max's lawyer?"
Sweets gulped; he wasn't too sure about what Booth thought of what Brennan did to save her father. He had figured out what she was trying to do while watching her during Cam's and Hodgins' testimonies. He decided to go along with it, but now he was wondering if he made the right decision.
"Max's lawyer wanted an assessment of Doctor Brennan's personality in relation to her ability to be able to commit murder," Sweets said. "I was representing the FBI, and I was under oath. I had no choice but to answer.
"Uh-huh," Booth said again. Sweets was learning to hate that sound. "Interesting how you decided to answer, wasn't it?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Well that lawyer…he was clearly trying to get you to say that Bones was capable of murder," Booth said, leaning back in his chair. "It was interesting how you both answered his question and didn't answer his question." Booth ate some more of his burger while Sweets shifted in his chair.
"The ability to rationalize and compartmentalize all of your feelings and actions can be a dangerous thing for many people," Sweets said.
"But you don't think it is for Bones, do you?" Booth questioned with a penetrating stare. Sweets looked down at his plate.
"No," he answered without looking up.
"You knew," Booth said. "You knew even before I did what she was trying to do and you played along."
"Yes."
"Why Sweets?"
"She was doing what she thought was necessary to save her father…I…I can respect that."
"What are you saying?" Booth asked. "Are you saying that if your father had murdered a member of the FBI, you would be willing to implicate yourself for it?" Sweets' mind flashed for a moment over the memories of the man he knew as his father: an intelligent, gentle, loving man who had just died about a year ago. When he looked up, Booth blinked at the look of resolve on his face.
"Yes," he said. "I would have done anything to save him." Booth sighed.
"Never mind, Sweets," he said, taking a sip of his soda. "I think it was pretty clear throughout the trial where your sympathies were anyway." Sweets gulped at that.
"Agent Booth, whatever I said during the trial…I want you to know that it has nothing to do with…"
"Stop," Booth said, raising a hand. "I remember all that stuff you said about Max. About how he could have been a great leader and all. Bones probably missed it, but I could see what you were trying to do."
"Max Keenan is an extraordinary man," Sweets insisted. "I imagine that Doctor Brennan gained some of her strength and willpower from him."
"But that isn't the picture Caroline was trying to paint of him," Booth said, after finishing his burger. "She didn't want Max Keenan, great man; she wanted Max Keenan, psychopath." Sweets crossed his arms over his chest.
"I stand by my assessment."
"Calm down," Booth chuckled. "I meant what I said in the courtroom. You may be wrong about Bones, but you are very good at what you do."
"Thank you," Sweets blushed. "I…I appreciated what you said in there." Booth nodded and ate a couple more fries.
"Aren't you going to eat your food?" he said, waving a hand at Sweets' plate.
"Sure, I guess," Sweets said, picking up his burger and taking a bite. He still felt unsure about this conversation, and every bite seemed dry in his mouth.
"Relax Sweets," Booth said. "Don't lapse into your habit of not eating when something is bothering you." Sweets tilted his head at him, intrigued.
"What makes you think I do that?" Booth gave him a half-hearted smile.
"April. The night she broke up with you. I remember how I practically had to force food down your throat."
Sweets nodded. That had been one of the worst nights that he had had in the past year. He knew that the relationship wasn't working out; it shouldn't have bothered him so much when she dumped him.
But his feelings were still raw because of the death of his parents. In fact, that was part of the reason he couldn't fully commit to April; he was still trying to recover from that loss. With her subsequent rejection of him, Sweets began to wonder if he would ever get over that pain.
He knew that he could never truly convey to Booth how grateful he was that he picked up on that pain and tried to comfort him with a night of bowling and a late dinner. On that night, Sweets finally saw the possibility that he could belong somewhere again.
"I'm fine, Agent Booth," he said. He took a huge bite of his burger and chewed dramatically.
"Sweets, do you still want to write that book?" Booth asked. Sweets choked a little on his latest bite, but quickly recovered with a drink of his water.
"Like I said, it was just a thought. I'm sorry I was so rude at the courthouse when I retracted my offer." Booth shook his head, and Sweets sighed.
The truth was he had been flustered at the time. Booth had seen right through his rather impulsive decision to write that book. Sweets was scared, embarrassed, and a little irritated that he was able to figure out so easily that he wanted to spend more time with them. He reacted the same way he did many times before in his life when made to confront how much he needed someone: he pushed away. It was a destructive habit, and Sweets knew it. But his early childhood made it difficult for him to trust people enough to be able to admit to them that he needed them.
I talked it over with Bones," Booth said, derailing Sweets' train of thought. "She says ok and I say great."
"Really?"
"Sure," Booth grinned at the way Sweets' face lit up. "Now our terms still stand: we agree to the let you study us and the weekly sessions, if you agree to profile for our cases and help with interrogations when needed. That work for you?"
"Done," Sweets smiled. Inwardly, he realized that he just committed to a lot of extra work, including a book that he hadn't completely worked out yet. But that didn't seem to matter right now.
Booth swiftly finished the rest of his fries and gulped down the rest of his soda in one swig.
"Good," he said, still grinning. He sat the empty glass down on the table and stood up. "Now, how about the two of us head over to the Founding Fathers? I think Bones is still there drinking with the rest of the squints."
"Are you sure?" Sweets said. "I kind of ducked out of it before saying that I was busy."
"Well maybe you were busy before, but you're not now, right?" Sweets shook his head and stood up as well. "Come on, pay the bill and I'll meet you over there." Sweets watched as Booth strolled out of the dinner, leaving him stuck with the check. Again.
Sweets laughed as he pulled out his wallet to cover the two checks and tips. It may have been irritating, but he was enjoying his day too much now to really care.