A/N: This is it! I know I said they would not be meeting, but my muse led me here. This is my take on Brennan and Booth's first official meeting (before the pilot). Obviously first impressions weren't the greatest, but we know they secretly wanted each other. I think this epilogue is longer than the other chapters. Who knew! Thanks again and please review!


Temperance Brennan stared in disbelief at her boss.

"Could you repeat that please?" she asked icily.

"The FBI has requested you work with a team to identify the possible remains of an FBI agent."

Brennan let out a disbelieving laugh, "You're serious? You want me to work with the FBI?"

"Yes, Dr. Brennan, that is exactly the case." Her boss, Dr. Goodman replied.

"No." she said shaking her head, "I'm not FBI and I'm not going to be on loan whenever their own agents get stooped."

Goodman fought a smile as he replied, "I believe you mean stumped, Dr. Brennan."

Brennan had the decency to blush at her incorrect pop-culture vocabulary, but it did not deter her from her anger. "Dr. Goodman, you know how the FBI operate. My work will be second to their own and…"

"Temperance, you misunderstand me. This isn't a permanent arrangement. They need an outside, expert opinion with this case only. It's somewhat high-profile and they need the best."

Brennan's anger faded slightly with her bosses praise. Goodman smiled gently and went in for the kill.

"As soon as your part in the case is over you'll be free of the FBI. I promise."

She drew in a deep breath, angry at the circumstances, but reluctantly agreed. "Fine. But I want a gun."

Goodman held up his hand, "I don't believe that will be necessary Dr. Brennan." He saw her mouth open, and cut her off, "But, I believe you could request permission from the agent in charge."

Brennan nodded, still unhappy with her boss. Although…having a gun would be nice.


She went back to her office to rearrange her schedule for the week. She was particularly upset at postponing her interviews for a new assistant. As she was busy emailing selected applicants her phone rang.

"Brennan."

"Is this Dr. Temperance Brennan?"

"Yes," she said warily, "Who is this?"

"This is Special Agent Seeley Booth with the FBI."

Brennan rolled her eyes at the sound of the arrogance in his voice. "Yes, Agent Booth?" she sighed.

On the other end Booth's eyes narrowed slightly at her voice. He dismissed the sound of boredom in her voice to the bad connection.

"Dr. Brennan, I'm sure by now you've heard you'll be working with us on the Hillburt case."

Brennan frowned at his choice of phrasing, "Yes. I've heard."

"Great. Listen, I have an appointment this afternoon, but I can squeeze in a meeting with you at one o'clock to go over what we know in the case. Do you know where the Hoover Building is?" Booth asked.

Angela peeked her head into her friend's office, seeing her at her desk. She stopped short at the look of anger on Brennan's face. For a fleeting moment she had the idea to come back later, but her sense of curiosity overtook her, moving her further into the office.

"Listen, Agent Booth is it?" Brennan replied, her tone laced with anger and indignation, "I know where the Hoover Building is, and I'm so sorry, but you'll have to find another time to squeeze me into your busy schedule…seeing as I have my own appointments to keep."

Angela grinned slowly, nodding a 'thumbs up' to her friend. Brennan ignored her and continued with her tirade.

"Maybe I can pen you in for tomorrow? How about 2:30 at the Jeffersonian?" She asked smartly, "I'm sorry Agent Booth, but I have an appointment to keep, I'll speak with you tomorrow." She said, hanging up.


A look of confusion crossed Booth face. He held his phone out slightly staring at it.

"Pen me in tomorrow?" he said quietly to himself, "Who the hell does she think she is?"


Angela clapped, smiling at her friend. "Wow, Bren. I didn't know you had it in you."

Brennan's features still held a slight flush of anger, "You should have heard him Angela. He's the most arrogant man I've ever…"

"Talk to?" Angela finished for her. "Sweetie, you've never met him. Give him the benefit of the doubt."

Brennan glared, "He's FBI. You know how they are."

Angela sighed, "Hot and sweaty if we're lucky."

"I'm serious, Angela. I'm being pulled off my schedule to help them and this guy…Agent Booth."

Angela smiled sympathetically, "Sweetie I know you don't like the idea of it, but maybe it will be fun?"

"What? Being ordered around by a bunch of alpha males?"

"I think you're determined not to like his Agent Booth because of the situation, Bren. It's no biggie, I mean Jack and I can work on some things while you're gone this week. You trust us, right? We'll keep you in the loop at all times."

Brennan sighed, "I know I'm overreacting…"

"Ya think?"

She rolled her eyes, "But I just don't like having my schedule rearranged. I like order. And I really don't like someone telling me what to do."

Angela patted her friend's arm. "Come on, I'll buy you some lunch and we can brainstorm about what Agent Booth will look like."

"Probably old, bald, and a…" Brennan looked at her friend, "beer stomach?"

"Beer belly. Don't worry, Bren we'll get you into the 21st century." Angela said, encouraging her friend.


Brennan was hard at work, trying to finish some last minute changes on a report before her meeting with the FBI agent she'd be working with. She was typing the last sentence when a pencil landed with a thump on her desk, startling her.

She looked up to see a tall, well built man in a suit—complete with dark hair, and equally dark eyes staring at her.

"Did you just throw a pencil at me?"

He shrugged, "I figured you needed it. You know, yesterday you said you'd 'pen me in'."

She stared at him, confusion written on her face. "I don't know what that means."

"Pencil me in?"

Nothing.

Aware that the joke had fell completely flat he gave up and got down to business. He sat down in the chair opposite her and held out his hand.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth."

"Dr. Temperance Brennan."

He was surprised with her grip, but kept his face clear of any emotions. His gut told him she didn't like him. He observed her for a few moments before entering her office. Booth noticed the obscene since of order her office presented.

The woman herself also exhibited signs of professionalism. Her outfit was neatly tailored, all except for her oversized necklace. She was pretty, he noticed, but not in the conventional way. She was sophisticated. Her eyes were intently focused on her computer, not noticing him until he decided to make his presence known.

"So Agent Booth, what do you know about the case?" she asked, feigning interest.

He passed the folder to her, making eye contact for a brief moment, he stopped suddenly.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan—Have we met? I mean, before today?"

Brennan sat up straight, unnerved by his question, "I don't think so. Why?"

Booth shook his head, "Nothing…never mind." He looked at her again, "You just look really familiar to me."

She stared at him, her eyes, squinting, "I think…" she trailed off quietly.

Before she could continue, Booth spoke up loudly, "Oh geez. You really are a squint. Figures I'd get stuck with one." He mumbled, his earlier musings forgotten.

The fuzzy memory she had almost grasped slipped away suddenly, replaced by anger.

"No, Agent Booth, I'm sure I'd remember meeting someone as arrogant as you."

"I'm arrogant? You're the one who hung up on me yesterday!" he argued back.

"Yes, I did. After you assumed I'd be willing to drop everything to help you solve your case and furthermore..."


Dr. Goodman looked around the lab, noticing the small crowd that had gathered around Dr. Brennan's office. He walked up slowly tapping Angela on the shoulder.

"Is there something going on I should know about?" he asked.

Angela jerked her head towards the door, "That FBI guy is here, totally hot by the way—anyways, they're arguing about something."

"And this is relevant to everyone because?" he said motioning to the few individuals that hadn't scattered away.

Angela held up her hands in disbelief, "It's hot! The tension's so thick you could cut it with a knife. They're all fireworks and…"

"Thank you for that observation Ms. Montenegro. Could you please get back to work now?"

She sighed deeply, taking one last longing look at the door before making her way up the stairs.

Goodman remained, listening to the harsh comments being thrown back and forth from the office. He looked up and silently thanked whoever was listening that this was a temporary assignment. Imagine the two of them working together permanently, he mused.