Disclaimer: Don't own Bones
A/n: So I swore I would never do AU, but ... I have no idea where I'm going with this or if it's going anywhere at all, so of course, I would like to know whether I should even bother trying to take it somewhere! Warning: This is so totally AU that I almost hesitate to post, so if you hate AU turn away now!
"Stop being a stubborn ass, Seeley."
"Is that any way to talk to a Supreme Court justice?" He attempted a charm smile, but she remained unimpressed.
"Your shiny new robes mean nothing to me, Booth," Cam reminded him stonily, refusing to soften until she won this particular battle. "Especially when we're talking about your life."
"Save it," she warned, raising a hand. "We can't ignore these threats anymore, you need protection."
"I have protection, Cam," he reminded her calmly, but she sent him a withering glare.
"You nearly got your head blown off yesterday," she hissed. "Clearly, the Court police is not enough." Pacing in agitation she ranted, "You know, I still think justices should get secret service protection and …"
"There's nine of us, Camille," Booth interjected pragmatically. "And most of the public doesn't even know who we are anyway ..."
"Yeah, but the ones that do are the crazies and the psychos," she grumbled, this particular argument one they'd debated numerous times before. "It doesn't matter anyway, there's been plenty of publicity surrounding your appointment." She threw him a smirk, "And believe me people know who you are."
He rolled his eyes at her not so veiled reference. In the month since his appointment, the media seemed more concerned with his physical appearance and single status than his jurisprudence and his photo appeared to be plastered every damn where these days. One particular groan-inducing article had called him the sexiest legal mind to ever grace the bench and somehow they had managed to find a picture of him at the gym to print along with it. God, Cam had a field day with that one, he remembered with a wince.
"Can you believe this crap?" he had grumbled, slapping down the offending article on her desk. "This has absolutely nothing to do with my politics or my decisions or any damn thing even remotely related to …"
"That's a good picture of you, Seeley," she had retorted calmly, unfazed by his agitation. "Relax, there's nothing to be done about this stuff. You and your ridiculous good looks are a hot story. Enjoy it, I'm sure some of these articles are not going to be quite as nice after you hand down your first decision."
"I contacted Senator Hodgins …"
"Aw, come on," Booth groaned, coming back to the present at her words and flopping down on his desk chair. "Why would you do that?" The question was a near whine. "Now I can expect quite a lecture from Angela and you know Hodgins is going to …"
"Don't whine, Seeley," she interrupted his little rant. "It's not becoming in a Supreme Court justice."
He growled his displeasure, but Cam simply ignored him. "You're getting your own personal security detail for the foreseeable future."
"Yes," she contradicted, handing him a dossier which he took bad-temperedly. "Hodgins says she's the best there is …"
"She?" he interjected with a quirked eyebrow.
"Careful, Booth, your sexist side is showing," Cam smirked. "She's brilliant, ex-CIA, apparently a complete lack of social skills, but she can kill you slowly in about a hundred different ways."
"I don't like this, Cam," he complained, fingers running over the edge of the folder without opening it. "I can take care of myself. Army training doesn't disappear overnight, you know, no matter how many years you spend on the bench."
"Booth, you have a son," she reminded him, going for his one weak spot. "Not to mention that you are in a position to change history. Whichever way you look at it, you're too important." Her voice was soft and sincere. "Court is in session in a few months and you'll be the swing vote in a lot of controversial decisions, I know I don't have to tell you just how many death threats we've had in the past few weeks."
"They've been investigated, most are meaningless," he argued, but she knew he was giving in even as he threw the dossier on his desk in frustration.
"You should look at that," Cam suggested. "She'll be here in a few hours."
"What's her name?" he asked instead, for some reason unwilling to open the innocuous brown file folder.