Not mine
"It's V-Day – you should spend time with Booth."
She should have known Angela would hound her today. It is, after all, February the fourteenth.
"Angela, Valentine's Day is a silly tradition loosely based on Catholic myths dating back to the fifth century AD. I don't believe in monogamy as a way of life, and I think that commercial exploitation of the human need for comfort and social contact is wrong. And I don't know why you're bringing Booth into this – unless he likes those chocolate hearts and hasn't told me." She frowns and continues to walk toward the bone room, where Zack has been waiting for three minutes already. "He can buy them for himself if that's the case, so I still don't understand your insistence."
Angela shakes her head with a small smile on her face; Temperance thinks it must be amusement. She's slowly, but surely, getting better at 'reading' facial expressions. "It's not aboutconsumerism or candy, Bren. It's about the love you share with another person. It's an entire day devoted to spending time with someone you care about. Just do something you both like." Her smile morphs into a smirk and she adds, "Like – I ordered some edible body paint last week and Roxie and I are going to do what we do best all night long."
"I don't think Booth wants me to paint him," she points out reasonably. "Honestly, Ange, love is just a reaction of the body when the brain releases vasopressin, oxytocin, norepinephrine, dopa-"
"I get it," her friend says dryly. They reach the bone room and Angela tells her quietly, "Remember how hurt and upset you were when you thought Booth was dead? And how mad you were when you learned he was still alive and hadn't told you? That's love, sweetie."
Temperance purses her lips thoughtfully while she watches Angela walk back the way they came. What she hasn't told anyone is that she was far more anxious when Zack was lying in that hospital bed, gloves covering his hands and cold sweat on his forehead and pinned with accusations she didn't want to believe. Booth is her partner, but Zack is both her colleague and intellectually her equal – no, that's not right. He's intellectually her superior.
And he's been waiting for her.
Snapping her gloves in place, she enters the room and tries not to smile. Zack is still examining the skeleton, almost as though it's an old friend who decided to drop in and say hello.
"Good morning, Dr. Brennan," he says quickly.
"Good morning, Zack," she replies. "What have you discerned so far?"
___________________________
When Angela leaves to have lunch with Roxie, Temperance is suddenly – and inexplicably – reminded that she doesn't socialize with people outside her lab. Of course, on occasion she has sex with men or converses with people attached to cases, but not much has changed in years; her closest relationships are with dead people. She has, after careful consideration, added Booth to the list containing Angela and Zack, but –
Even Zack socializes more than she does. The enigmatic 'Naomi in paleontology' seems to have become a friend to him somewhere along the way, and though their sexual relationship ended when he went to Iraq, she continues to see him outside of the Jeffersonian and engage him in friendly conversation often.
She can't do anything about it today, but she has an hour for lunch and can't do anything further until Hodgins finishes analyzing the sticky substance found in what was left of the victim's hair. Sighing, she looks up and says, "I'm taking lunch, Zack. You should take the opportunity as well; we may not have another chance to eat until late tonight."
"Okay, Dr. Brennan," he replies. His quick responses have always pleased her, and the way he says 'Dr. Brennan' is almost...she doesn't know the word. She's never been good at identifying emotions, much less categorizing them. Endearing, perhaps, but that doesn't seem correct.
