Chapter Text
Temperance Brennan didn’t actually hate her and Agent Booth’s weekly sessions with Dr. Sweets.
Okay, she did, but only because psychology is not an exact science, and no matter how many times Sweets explained it that fact would not change. If not for that, she probably would’ve liked Sweets a lot more a lot sooner. Not that she never did, but she often resented the way he would analyze the words she said, as if the way she paused for a slight second offered some insight into her difficult childhood. It wasn’t necessarily his fault his chosen profession was misguided pseudo-science but it made him harder to like. In the back of her mind, she hated that she didn’t hate their weekly meetings. In fact, the sessions could be quite calming, not that she would ever admit that to anyone.
On occasion she would have lapses. She tried to block out her feelings with work, but sometimes cases would bring her back. A wrist fracture would remind her of a foster dad grabbing her own arm, twisting it too hard causing a sharp pain. No matter how painful it was the most she would do was wince. It seemed the only person who could ever tell the difference was Sweets. One day Booth was a few minutes late for their appointment and Sweets noticed something.
“Dr. Brennan, if you don’t mind me asking, is something on your mind?”
Temperance looked up at him with genuine confusion “What makes you say that?”
“I’ve noticed whenever something is bothering you, you tend to depersonalize, dissociate. You become quiet and withdrawn. I understand, you’ve been in some” he paused “difficult situations in your life. No one can really understand what you’ve been through unless you tell them” he gave her a sympathetic half smile.
Temperance’s cell phone rang. “Brennan.” She gestured toward Sweets. “It’s Booth, he’s finishing up a case report. He’ll be here in a few minutes”
Sweets nodded solemnly “You know, if you ever need to talk, without Booth, we can set something up”
“Having to listen to your psycho-babble once a week is bad enough”
“Then don’t think about this as a session, think about it as a conversation between two colleagues about what’s going on in your life besides work. “
Brennan opened her mouth in protest but Sweets jumped in before she had the chance to.
“Look, I understand your reluctance but just hear me out. And if it doesn’t work out, I’ll buy you lunch at the diner. Deal?”
Brennan grumbled in defeat before Agent Booth walked in and their normal session started.
She reluctantly walked up to Dr. Sweets’ office a few days later after she had closed another murder case. There was a sign on his door stating he had stepped out but would be back in about ten minutes. Temperance carefully folded herself into one of the leather arm chairs she and Booth sat in during their sessions. She thought about how young he was, not that she wasn’t used to seeing young interns, perhaps she was a tad jealous that he seemed to have accomplished so much at twenty two when at the same age she had no idea where she was going. Her younger self would probably be shocked to realize that at thirty she was one of the most, if not the most, reputable forensic scientists in the country.
Sweets looked into his office from down the hall, noticing someone waiting for him to begin meeting. As he walked closer he realized who was in the room, Dr. Brennan, and couldn’t help but smile a little. Dr. Brennan very rarely came out of her shell, he had noted in previous sessions, but when she did it meant she trusted the other party. He couldn’t betray that. Brennan was fragile; she would never let the façade slip behind her carefully constructed boundaries.
“Wow, Dr. Brennan, I’m incredibly surprised you accepted my offer, considering your, well, often noted self-described hatred for the entire field of psychology. I must be frank; I didn’t expect you to show up.”
She shifted in her chair “Don’t think this means I find psychology any more credible because of this.”
“Like I said before, this isn’t a psychotherapy session; this is just two people talking as colleagues. So what’s been bothering you?”
"I just, I often find it hard to tell Agent Booth things about my childhood even though I am fully aware he is capable of listening”
He leaned forward gently “Is it because you’re afraid he won’t understand?” he asked.
Her brow furrowed “Logical reasoning suggests that because of Booth’s own hesitancy towards discussing his own childhood trauma he would understand mine.” Her words were always calculated to reflect the logic that should dictate life, but even she knew that life wasn’t always logical. Not that she would ever admit it to herself.
He paused, assessing the risk in his next statement “Dr. Brennan, you know as well as I do that the reason you haven’t told anyone about your childhood is deeper than logic. Logic can’t explain why people do things to hurt other people”
Temperance knew Dr. Sweets was right. He was right more often than she gave him credit for, after all, the people at the Jeffersonian jokingly referred to him more than once as the “human lie detector”. She was never quite sure if it was due to years of training or an innate quality. Normally she wouldn’t believe any person could develop talents based merely off of their personality, but Sweets made her question everything.
“Dr. Brennan, I know we’ve only known each other for a few months, but I can understand your situation better than you would expect”
This was not a variable she anticipated. She had miscalculated, assumed that because of Sweets’ young age and impressive academic record that he had had it easy. Out of respect she didn’t ask, but she was still oddly intrigued, but she knew he would tell her in time.