The Burden of Proof

2. Refutation

Sweets knew this was unavoidable. This confrontation. He was prepared. After careful thought and countless hours of rich observations, he had decided to finally publish his book. He knew it would generate a strong –probably antagonistic– reaction, but he was convinced they were ready to face the facts. Face its conclusion. And no matter how they would decide to try and convince him otherwise, they would fail. His theory was solid. Bullet proof. As long as Booth didn't take out his real gun.

But he was surprised to only find her in his office. No sign of Booth. She was acting on her own. This rattled him a little. He had expected to face them both at the same time. 'Divide and conquer' wasn't their usual approach.

"Dr. Brennan," he said, closing the door and walking to his desk. "Here by yourself?"

She was sitting on the sofa, with what looked like his manuscript on her lap. She waited until he sat down.

"This is garbage," she stated, dropping his book on the table in front of her in a loud attempt to make a point. "But that was to be expected coming from a psychologist."

"Ok... Do you wish to tell me what you disagree on exactly?"

"All of it!" she almost cried out. "You perception of us is very... wrong." She has difficulty sticking to a rich vocabulary when this upset. And Sweets knew that.

"I understand your frustration, but I'm sticking to it."

Her voice softened a little.

"Over time, I have developed a certain respect for your opinion," she said. "Most of the time. And I, sometimes, even take it into consideration. But I cannot sit there and let you... publish this. And I'm here to warn you that Booth is probably going to want to hurt you."

Sweets tried not to shudder.

"And are you sure that Booth will disagree with my book, too?"

She almost laughed.

"Of course! You're saying he's in love with me. That is not going to sit well with him. He is not in love with me."

"How do you know that?" he asked, carefully.

Her heart was beating so fast, she didn't even realize he was using therapy techniques on her.

"Have you met Booth? Don't you think he would have said something if he were? He's Booth. He's all about emotions. If he did... love me... he definitely would have said something."

"And how would you have responded, might I ask ?"

She didn't have time to answer that. She had further proof to bring in.

"Plus! Aesthetically, I am not his type. He prefers blonds. That's what pleases him, physically. He always goes for blonds. I, as you can see, am not blond. At all."

"That's interesting," Sweets said.

"I knew you would understand," she concluded.

"Oh no. I'm still convinced I'm right."

Brennan frowned. Her heart was in her throat now.

"YOU!" Booth's voice startled them. Then, the door slammed behind him and Sweets jumped out of his chair.

Who did that tiny shrink think he was? Reveal everything, in writing, before he even had a chance to figure out a way to tell her? Wasn't he the one who told him his feelings weren't real? Didn't he tell him to wait?

"You had NO RIGHT, Sweets!"

"I told you so," Brennan let out, so greatly pleased.

That's when he saw her on the couch. He narrowed his eyes at Sweets to make him understand how lucky he was that she had gotten here first.