A/N: this story was written for this week's Bonesology challenge, which was to tell what would happen when the characters met for the first time under different circumstances than were shown to us in the episodes. Instead of explaining things for all the characters, I've decided to make this a multi chapter story focusing on only four characters, although other characters will be mentioned. We will experience some time jumps, so the story may not seem linear, but eventually things will fall into place. This story is AU, but I promise it will have a happy ending. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it.

Late December, 1988

There were less than three minutes left in the championship game of the Keystone State High School PreSeason Tournament. The game had been close for the first three quarters, but the green clad Northland Vikings, a team from Columbus, Ohio, had pulled away in the fourth, and now led the Philadelphia based Central High School by eight points. The home crowd was tense as they watched their Lancers try to catch up while the seconds ticked away.

Seeley Booth glanced at the clock positioned high on the gym wall as he ran down the court, positioning himself in the corner to take the three point shot. He held his arm up so Jefferson, the point guard, would pass him the ball. After gaining possession, Booth feigned to his left before turning to his right and shooting over the Vikings forward. The shot went in, accompanied by the roar of the crowd and the referee's whistle.

Turning to the scorer's table, the referee explained his call. "Foul on green 52...blocking. Basket counts. Red's ball. One shot."

The Northland coach complained bitterly about the call as a hush fell over the crowd. Booth stood on the foul line, and after bouncing the basketball a few times, calmly sank the free throw for a four point play. As the man continued his loud tirade from the sideline, the second referee had heard enough, calling the second technical on the coach and ejecting him from the game. The crowd cheered wildly as the man was escorted from the court. The Lancers' coach called his players over to their bench. "Okay...Booth's gonna take our technicals for us. Jefferson, when the ref gives you the ball, they're gonna be guarding Booth, so inbound it to Harvey. Booth...get yourself open to take the shot. Harvey, dribble a few seconds if you can...we want to eat some clock, but be careful to avoid the steal, okay? Then pass the ball to Booth when you get a chance. We've got to make this work, boys…after we score, we have to hold'em. Ready? ONE, TWO, THREE...LANCERS!"

Seeley Booth felt his heart pounding in his chest as he walked to the free throw line, willing himself to be calm so he could concentrate on the task at hand. You can do this, Booth. Ignore the crowd and the noise. Don't worry about everything in the background. Focus on the basket. Just like all those times with Pops and Jared in the back yard. Inhale...hold your breath… The first shot gently fell through the net. That's great...one more time… The second shot bounced gently off the backboard but went through the hoop. The Lancers were down by only two points with less than two minutes remaining.

The referee handed the ball to Jefferson, who managed to get off a bounce pass around the Vikings player. Harvey, the shooting guard, dribbled a few seconds before passing to Booth, who hit another three point shot. The Lancers were up by one.

The Vikings inbounded the ball with a little over a minute left. Booth sprinted down the court to guard the Vikings' best player...number 52. Positioning himself in the key, Booth put his arms up just as the player in the green uniform ran into him, causing both players to tumble to the ground as their legs hit kneecap to kneecap. The crowd fell silent, anxiously awaiting the call as the players tried to stand up, but 52 lay on the floor, writhing in pain.

"Foul on 52 green...charging...red ball. Injury time out."

The Vikings assistant coach and the trainer came out to help 52 slowly walk off the court to a smattering of applause from the crowd. The young man was obviously in a great deal of pain, sitting on the end of the bench, covering his face with a towel as the trainer applied some ice.

Meanwhile, the Lancers inbounded the ball and avoided the swarming Viking defense long enough to win the game and the tournament championship. Booth was awarded the game ball for his efforts, and he also caught the eye of one of the college scouts who had attended the tournament. Things were looking good for his dreams of a college basketball scholarship. Maybe things were finally going to turn out right for Seeley Booth.

Oooooooooo

Late December, 1998

Seeley Booth sighed as he got ready to leave his desk on a blustery Friday evening. He hated being in the bullpen, but at least he was finally getting to know some of the other people who worked with him. He'd been really pleased to be assigned to the FBI's New York City field office, especially since he'd earned it by working hard to be in the top quarter of his class at Quantico. He also knew that his experience as a US Army Ranger and his ranking as a world class sniper had assisted his placement as well, but he didn't like to talk about those things too much. He figured that stuff would just lead to some misunderstandings, so he kept that information to himself.

Gathering up his keys, phone, and overcoat, he stopped by his friend's desk. "Hey, Sully. Got any plans for the evening? If not, how 'bout a beer on the way home?"

"You buying?" Tim Sullivan smirked as he shut down his computer. "Yeah, I got nothing going on tonight. I swear, you'd think two good lookin' guys like us would have the babes lined up at the door, right? I mean, I know you've got Cam, but I don't know how you managed to meet the only cute coroner in the world, Booth. Have you met the women she works with? Ouch. And what about poor ol' me? Come on. She must have some hot friends...maybe you can get her to set me up with one of them since I'm your good buddy, right, Booth?"

"Hey, me and Cam….it's not like that, alright?" Booth narrowed his eyes at Sully. "It's not like she's my girlfriend…we're good friends, but I don't know if we're good enough friends for me to ask her to do something like that for you. Anyway, I'm sure her friends have high standards, you know? It might be hard to find one of them that's interested in some poor FBI field agent."

"Yeah, right. Whatever you say, Booth. I wish I had 'friends' that looked at me like Cam looks at you. I'd be very satisfied with life right now if I did." Seeing that Booth was not impressed with his joke, Sully shrugged. "Yeah, let's go have that beer."

Oooooooooo

The two agents sat down at the counter in a small corner tavern and ordered their beer. After a bit of aimless chitchat they began to watch basketball on the television over the bar. The Knicks were playing the Celtics, and the game was hotly contested. It was late in the first half when a player was set in a defensive position and took a charge from the man dribbling the ball, sending both of the players sprawling on the floor. The referee blew his whistle loudly as both men rose from the floor jawing at each other.

Booth shook his head. "I don't know why that Knicks player is whining. It was obviously a charge. The Celtics' player was set."

"Well, of course you'd think that, Booth. You know how to act like you're taking a charge, even when it's an obvious blocking foul." Sully shook his head sullenly as he sipped his beer. "You know how to make shit look good for the refs, don't you?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Sully?" Shocked at his friend's sudden change in demeanor, Booth stared at him for a few seconds. "I mean, yeah, I played basketball in high school…"

"I know you did. I did, too, for awhile, until I got blocked just like that in a preseason game…you really don't remember, do you?" Sully ate some peanuts as he studied Booth's exasperated expression. "Okay, I'll give you a hint. Keystone PreSeason tournament...under two minutes left. Northland has the ball but there's a charging call. A player goes down…"

"Wait a minute…" Booth's eyes grew wide as he remembered what happened next. "That was you, Sully? You were number 52? Man, you were so good…I can't believe that was you! You must've killed it playing college ball. How long have you known who I was? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I've known since my first day in the office, when Director Henderson introduced us." Sully avoided eye contact as he explained. "I guess I was still angry about what happened in that game." He held his hand up to stop Booth's interruptions. "It's a long story, but here's the abridged version, okay? I knew I was hurt that night, but I thought it was just a stinger...no big deal, right? My coach was gonna look at it when we got back home, but he got canned almost immediately after the game for being such a hothead. Then it was Christmas and New Year's, so I never got my knee looked at, but I rested it a lot and it felt better. When school was back in session, I tried to practice, but I was in too much pain, so I finally had to go to the doctor. Turns out I'd slightly torn a ligament in my knee and cracked my patella when our legs collided, and because I'd waited so long to have it looked at, it didn't heal right. I had to have some pretty extensive surgery, so I missed the rest of my senior season, and my basketball scholarship prospects went out the window."

"Hey, I'm sorry to hear that. I didn't know…" Booth realized Sully's knee injury wasn't really his fault, but he couldn't help feeling bad about it anyway. "So what happened next?"

"I went to Ohio State on an academic scholarship. Turns out that in addition to being good looking, I'm actually pretty smart, too." Sully chuckled as Booth rolled his eyes. "I received two degrees from there...one in art history, and one in criminal justice. Originally I wanted to work for Interpol, trying to find stolen Picassos and shit like that, but it's a lot less expensive to live in the States, and I was recruited by the FBI, so I went to Quantico." Finishing his beer, Sully wiped his mouth as he turned to Booth. "What about you? You play ball in college?"

"Yeah, I got a scholarship to play ball. I rode the bench for awhile, and when I finally did get to play, I tore the labrum in my right shoulder...some sort of repetitive motion injury. I had it surgically repaired, so my shoulder's fine, but because of the time involved in my recovery, I had to give up my scholarship. I decided to join the Army for a couple of years, and that helped me pay for college. I was able to take a lot of courses online that enabled me to get my degree. When I decided against reenlistment, I applied at Quantico, and here I am." Booth studied his Pilsner glass before draining it. "You'd be within your rights to be pissed at me, Sully…I guess I kinda ruined your life."

"I was pissed at first, but then I decided it was no big deal. I mean, it wasn't like I could go pro, and things worked out for me after all. I like my job and I like living in here in New York. It's a great place for a single guy."

"Yeah, maybe, but I'm thinking about asking for a transfer to DC. My ex and my kid live in the area around there, and I miss seeing him as often as I did when I was living in Virginia." Booth shrugged. "We'll see. Hey, half time's over. Want another beer? This round can be on me, too, since I'm the one who mangled your leg."

"Great." Sully smiled as he accepted another beer from the bartender. "Hey, if you do leave town, can I have Cam's phone number?"

"Ha ha. Very funny. Like she'd have anything to do with you, Bozo." Nodding toward the television, Booth shook his head. "Another bad call…"

"Yeah. Maybe those refs are the same ones we had for our game. Maybe they moved up the ranks to do pro games." Sully grinned. "No hard feelings, Booth."

"Thanks, Sully." Booth smiled back. As much as he was looking forward to a transfer to DC, he knew he'd miss having a beer with his good friend Tim Sullivan.