Sorry this update has been so long in coming. I got caught up in other things.
Also sorry this is so short, but I have plans for good ol Sweets, and I need time to plan them out. Insert evil laugh here
What Were You Thinking?
When Dr. Lance Sweets finally stepped out of his office at the Hoover Building and turned to lock the door, the last thing he expected to see was a shadow behind him. When he jumped and squealed like a little girl, he was too scared to be embarrassed. And then he was terrified. A small but powerful hand clutched his windpipe and slammed him against his door. He could barely squeak out a protest when his aggressor moved her face directly into his.
"D-Dr. B-Brennan?" He gasped, unbelieving despite the tangible evidence in front of him.
"Sweets." Brennan tilted her head slightly, studying him as if he were bones on her table. "What did you think you were doing with Booth?"
Sweets began to catalogue the instances he had spoken with Agent Booth outside Dr. Brennan's presence. Each time he flipped through the different scenarios in his mind, it kept stopping on the one moment with Booth that he was simultaneously proud of and terrified to face. "The brain scans?"
"Mmm. Yes. Those." Her clipped delivery did nothing to assuage Sweets' panic.
"What about them? They were real brain scans." He tried to raise his chin defiantly, but only managed to make her tighten her hold on his neck.
"No, they were not. And you know that, Dr. Sweets. In fact, the entire conversation you had with Booth was nothing more than another one of your experiments, wasn't it?"
"Wasn't it?!?!?" By now she was practically screaming at him, her free hand clutching his tie, eyes wide and angry.
""Y-yes. Yes, it was an experiment! Yes, okay? I wanted to see-"
"NO!" Brennan released his neck and punched him directly in the face. He could hear as well as feel his nose breaking. "You don't get to be forgiven for this one! I gave you a pass the last time, because I knew that Booth would kill you if he found out! But now…now you have even more to fear." She waited while he composed himself, holding a blood-soaked handkerchief to his nose.
"What?" He whispered.