Hello dear Bones readers
To fill time between both a) the new season and b) finding inspiration for my other story, The Forensic Anthropologist in the Warehouse,
I have written this soon-to-be two shot. The -very- rough plot was drawn from an inconsequential scene in a TV show I recently watched, but this is quite different really, so hardly even worth mentioning (if you can pick it from this, though, I commend you highly)
This also references Mayhem on a Cross, so spoilers for that if you haven't seen it yet (and if you haven't, you're missing out)

Enjoy the drama!

Booth stood with his eyes glued upon the platform. His arms were crossed, his gaze steady and serious as he observed the autopsy being carried out by Dr Brennan. Normally, he would have been right up beside his partner, enquiring and gathering a perspective on a new case. But today was different. An unfamiliar suited man stood beside Brennan in his stead as she began her preliminary work, observing her procedure with sharp eyes and taking notes on an official-looking clipboard in minute handwriting. The usual bustle of the Jeffersonian was muted to hushed and stressed whispering, particularly by those assisting Dr Brennan with her task.

The man was a representative of the American Board of Medico-Legal Death Investigators, and was on an official visit to assess Brennan for a new, exclusive and highly advanced level of certification. While the original assessments involved only a written examination, this newest level also required a direct performance examination of the applicant's specialty field. Brennan's application had progressed to that stage, leading to the events of the day: a full autopsy on a semi-decomposed corpse of unidentified age, gender or nationality.

Booth glanced his eyes away for a moment at the sound of approaching heels, seeing Cam and Angela slowly approaching. They came to a halt beside him, joining in his observation of the assessment.
'She looks really tense.' Angela murmured, her face filled with seriousness and concern of uncharacteristic potency.
'Well, this is a pretty serious task, even for Brennan.' Cam reasoned quietly, but the lack of conviction in her voice gave away her statement as one merely of Devil's Advocacy. Booth remained stoic, his eyes trailing Brennan as she walked across the platform, a feeling of foreboding pressing heavily upon his chest like a physical weight.

He had been watching over Brennan since the beginning of the day, walking her to the platform five minutes before she was due to start.
'You're going to do great, I can tell.' Booth had wrapped an arm around her shoulders in a sideways hug, and she had smiled back at him.
'Well, I'm not the best Forensic Anthropologist in the country for nothing.' Booth smiled fondly down at her, before lightly punching her in the arm.
'Go get'em, tiger.'
'While I do not quite comprehend the reference to the Panthera tigris, I am sure that it is meant in the best of intentions.' Brennan's eyes darted away from Booth's face as she spoke, however, the genuine smile on her face becoming somewhat fixed as all the warmth leaked from her gaze. Booth turned to see the anonymous suit approaching, clipboard in hand and unreadable expression already in place.
'Good morning, Ms Brennan. Are you ready to begin the assessment?' The man asked with a blunt, almost impatient edge to his voice. Booth's gut churned with apprehension for no identifiable reason, sending the hairs of the back of his neck prickling. He glanced back at Brennan, and noted with concern that the blithe affection of the moments prior had very quickly dissipated.
'At your soonest convenience.' Her voice was steely, professional, but somehow not the professional tone one would expect towards an examiner; no, it lacked the reverence that most afforded their assessors, and held- Booth noted- more distrust than he had ever heard Brennan express. Booth could not be quite sure, but he thought he could hear the tiniest flicker of fear in her inflection. The man gestured towards the waiting setup on the platform before them, either oblivious to or ignoring Brennan's palpable change in demeanour.
'After you.'

Booth had yet to move from the position where Brennan had left his side; his mind was yet to stop churning after the uncomfortable exchange between his anthropologist and this suited-up man who seemed to scare the hell out of her. So he stood, eyes sharp and watchful, observing the every happening of that platform, trying to find out exactly what was causing such discomfort for his closest friend.

Beside him he could hear Angela and Cam quietly conversing, but their hushed words washed over him unnoticed as his focus was very quickly drawn back to the platform. A tinkling clatter rang out across the space, and Booth's sharp eyes saw Brennan's face flush with embarrassment- something so very uncharacteristic of her. She kneeled down with as much dignity as possible to retrieve the scalpel that she had dropped, before recommencing her work. With growing anger towards him, Booth saw the assessor sigh and scrawl something across the page on his clipboard, making no notion to hide the fact that he was penalising his candidate. Brennan's face was set in stony determination as she tried to work through the setback, bending back over the corpse before her to continue her assessment.

Her eyes quickly shot up from the body, however, when the assessor stepped directly behind her and began to whisper harshly in her ear. Her wide eyes stared blankly ahead at the opposite wall as his voice cut into her, and as Booth watched he could see her expression melt from shock into hurt mixed with humiliation. He took an angry step forward but felt Cam's thin but strong fingers curl around his bicep. The man finished his inaudible speech bitingly, stepping away from Brennan as though she were some filthy animal that he did not wish to contract a disease from. Brennan was frozen in place, and Booth could see her warring with herself, trying to contain the emotion she was obviously feeling in one small section of her compartmentalised mind. But with distraught confusion he saw the control she normally maintained slipping from her grasp, and watched her run from the autopsy table, her eyes shining with angry tears.

'Bones! Bones, wait!' Booth called out as she ran past him, but she ignored his pleas as she dashed into her office and slammed the door. Booth ran after her and grabbed the handle, rattling it despite knowing that she would have locked the door from the inside. He slammed a fist against the door in frustration, before turning away. Looking down the short hall he had just come through he could see Angela, tentatively following.
'What the hell was that?' Booth asked, concern and confusion and that overwhelming need to protect his Brennan, his Bones filling his every fibre. He was surprised, however, when he saw a slightly guilty expression appear on Angela's face.
'What?' He asked, his voice subdued but still filled with a wavering edge of determination.

Angela looked furtively around, sighed and took a step closer.
'If I tell you, you have to promise to keep your cool, okay?' Booth felt something in him contract, almost as though someone had taken their hands and wrapped them tightly around his heart. He gave a curt nod, not certain that he would be able to speak and still seem convincing.
'Well, do you… do you know about Brennan's past in the foster care system?' Another curt nod, this time accompanied with a lurch of sympathy that fluttered around his stomach, 'and has Bren told you about the incident…with the plate?'

'My foster parents locked me in the trunk of a car for two days when I broke a dish. I was a very clumsy child. They warned me it would happen but the water was so hot and the… soap was so slippery…I still don't think it was fair, even though they gave me fair warning. The water was so hot…'

Booth swallowed hard as he remembered the painful story, dropping his eyes from Angela's face as that difficult night replayed itself in his mind.
'What has that got to do with any of this?' He asked in a husky voice, as he slowly raised his gaze once more. Angela took a deep breath before looking Booth straight in the eye.
'That man out there, the assessor, he was her foster father at the time.' As Angela watched Booth's brown eyes melted from concerned into furious, and to her surprise and concern she felt a flicker of fear at the sudden change in her friend. This was not the Booth she knew; the man before her was dangerous, not the gentle, kind-hearted and just Seeley Booth that she knew and loved.

Booth turned on heel and marched back towards the platform, with Angela apprehensively following behind. The man was still lingering on the platform, his expression bored and untroubled as he waited. His unfeeling eyes fell on Booth as he climbed the stairs onto the platform, sparking the alarm into life when he did not scan his card upon entry. The assessor began to also walk towards him.
'Mr Booth, was it? Look, I really need to get on my way, and if Ms Brennan is incapable of completing her assessment…' The man came to a stuttering halt as he saw the menacing look on Booth's face. Without a word, Booth roughly grabbed him by the shoulder, pulled back his other hand and, with as much of his substantial strength as he could muster, punched the man in the face.

Angela gasped audibly, and Hodgins- who had been obliviously walking past carrying a tray of empty test tubes- let them fall to the ground with a cacophonous tinkling of shattering glass. Cam came running out of her office, her eyes wide at the scene before her. Booth still grasped the man's shoulder, and forced his chin up to look him in the eye.
'You will let Brennan finish her assessment without any more of your spineless bias, and you will never cause her any harm, ever again. Do you understand me?' The man averted his gaze, his breath coming heavy as he wiped blood-streaked saliva from his lips. Booth angrily shook the man, repeating 'Do you understand me!'
'Yes,' the man replied through gritted teeth, prompting Booth to suddenly release him to the floor below. He fell heavily, but Booth was already walking away, back towards Brennan's office. He slowed when he saw her from the end of the passage, her miserable eyes observing the scene. She turned away and began to walk back to her office; Booth jogged to catch up to her, weaving an arm around her waist as they stepped inside her room, kicking the door shut behind him. They moved as one to her couch, where they sat, and Brennan allowed her head to droop sadly against his chest.

'You didn't have to do that, Booth.'
'He was treating you like dirt, Bones, I thought it was necessary.'
'He always treated me that way,' she sighed, 'look, Booth, I wasn't going to say anything but…'
'I know who he is, Bones.' He squeezed her shoulders a little tighter, resting his cheek gently atop her head. Brennan tensed slightly beneath him at that sudden information, but she eventually relaxed into acceptance rather than question him about it.
'I didn't think I would ever have to see him again. It was so unexpected, I just felt so thrown.' Brennan stared down at her hands, her shaking hands, and Booth could tell she was thinking of that fateful day when she had allowed that dish to slip from her grasp.
'Of all the things I could have done up there today, I had to drop something.' Her voice sounded so heart-wrenchingly small, so helpless, it was almost as though she were a child again. As though she had somehow regressed back to that time when she was reliant upon people such as the disgusting man waiting out in the lab.

'You don't have to face him again, if you don't want to. I'll go out there and kick him out for you, if that helps. But I promise that if you want to finish your assessment, that he will not step out of line again. And once you're finished, I'll make sure that you never have to see him again.' Booth could feel her shoulders rising and falling gently as she took steadying breaths, but could almost hear her mind whirring as she tossed up her options. She squeezed her eyes shut, at the same time taking Booth's hand in her own and squeezing it too.
'I want to finish.' Her voice sounded thin with strain, but with determination and bravery she pushed herself to her feet. She was rolling her shoulders as Booth also rose from the couch, trying to shake the unnerving tension accumulating there, her eyes still filled with uncertainty and shame.

'Here, let me.' Booth murmured before taking her shoulders under his hands, rubbing the knotted muscles with surprising gentleness. A tiny gasp jumped into Brennan's lungs at the sudden contact, and her limbs seemed to freeze in place. His substantial hands worked across her upper back, and Booth could feel the tension begin to melt away. He bowed his head forward, beside her ear, whispering.
'I'm always going to be here, Bones. Always.' He pressed a chaste kiss against her neck, feeling her head tip to the side as she revelled in the contact. Throat tight with emotion, he turned Brennan in his arms, seeing her eyes brimming with unrestrained feeling, shining with sparkling emotion.
'Now you go back out there, and show that man why you are the best Forensic Anthropologist in the country, you hear me?' She nodded, subtly sniffing, but her eyes filling with more determination at every passing moment.

Quite unexpectedly, Brennan pulled herself against Booth's chest in a short but fierce embrace. Her toned arms pulled tight against his back- in that type of hug that has deeper meaning than your everyday, run-of-the-mill embrace. Her fingers clawed bluntly across his shoulder, grasping a handful of his shirt as she pressed her forehead against his shoulder. He barely had time to squeeze her back before she was gone, marching down the hall back to her lab with a face showing nothing but confidence and dignity. Booth quickly followed after, not wanting to let that man spend one unsupervised moment with his Bones. This time, rather than merely standing at a respectable distance, Booth followed Brennan up onto the platform, coming to a halt not one meter away from her.

But it seemed that Booth's supervision was nigh on unnecessary. The man recoiled slightly from Booth and the menacing glower he shot towards the assessor when he climbed onto the platform, but Booth caught him doing nothing else out of line. The man refused to recognise his presence in the lab as he continued to watch Brennan work, his eyes only darting in a triangle between his notes, his candidate, and the corpse. Brennan herself, however, was transformed. Finding himself filling with pride and admiration, he watched Brennan continue her work, her entire demeanour confident and poised, not betraying any of her previous distress. The assessor continued to take notes as she worked with precision, her concentration no longer being broken by the presence of her old foster father. The examination ticked on, until Brennan had successfully identified all the necessary components of the corpse, with at least half an hour to spare.

As she peeled off her latex gloves the assessor turned to her.
'We shall contact you by next Friday of the results of today's examination.' And he left. Abruptly. No goodbyes, snide comments, or apologies. Just a silent- if somewhat hastened- march from the premises. As the glass door swung shut behind him, Booth exhaled gustily.
'What a complete…'
'Booth,' Brennan cut him off, shrugging out of her lab coat as they walked down the steps and back towards her office.
'What? He deserves every insult I can throw at him, for all the crap he put you through!' Brennan merely shot him a bemused sideways glance. Booth placed an arm around Brennan's shoulders, feeling his skin tingle ever so slightly as she automatically slipped her arm around his waist.
'I am so proud of you right now, Bones.' She raised a pessimistic eyebrow, some of her self confidence seeming to drain now that the adrenalin-fuelled excitement of the exam was beginning to dwindle.
'I'm serious, what you did just now was amazing. You pulled yourself together, you proved that arrogant bastard wrong. I know you aced that test, and when your results come through next week they're going to crown you Queen of Forensic Anthropology.'

'The fact that we live in a republican society, along with there being no such position as the "Queen of Forensic Anthropology" makes that a highly unlikely outcome.' Brennan said, but she smiled that small smile, the one that said thankyou without the need of clumsy, awkward words. As Brennan switched her navy lab coat for her red trench coat, Booth gestured out the door.
'C'mon, let's grab something to eat at the diner.' Brennan glanced up with uncertain eyes, 'I'll let you eat my chips…' he bribed with a teasing tone, drawing a sheepish smile and a nod as she finished buttoning up the coat.

With a flourish Booth offered his arm, feeling his heart swell when the action drew a small laugh from the woman before him. She wrapped her arms around his and allowed him to lead her from the building, finally allowing a sense of relief to slowly fill her up. As much as she may complain about Booth's alpha-male qualities, she had to admit that she was finding them extremely comforting. Glancing up and seeing his strong, symmetrical face looking protectively out; feeling his muscular arm squeezing her ever so slightly to his side; feeling the defensiveness practically rolling off him in waves- it wasn't exactly feminist, but it was something that she needed. And, sometimes, you just needed to surrender to your needs. So with contentment settling gently upon her heart she allowed herself to wholly give up to her desire, as the pair meandered slowly out the door.

Next chapter is about halfway done, but I'm going interstate on vacation tomorrow for a week or so, thus no updates for a while
I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, please drop me a line via review :)
If you like my style, I'd recommend The Forensic Anthropologist in the Warehouse; much longer than this, and probably a lot better written. It is my literary baby :)

Thanks for the read!