So, I got this idea from one of Sweets' journal entries from Sweets' Final Thoughts, via the Official Bones Companion for iPad for episode 6x20 TPitP. You can find it on Bonesology, if you're interested, but it's not necessary to enjoy this little doozy. And that's all I'm going to say, because I tend to ramble when it comes to author's notes. Oh, and if I made a mistake with the tense...just ignore it. I kept screwing that up. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I'm just a fan. Don't sue me. :)
"You boys ready to order?"
Booth puts the menu down and nods. "Yeah. I'll take the pastrami."
"Pastrami, okay," the waitress repeats, scribbling his order down into her notebook. She turns to the young man seated across from the special agent and smiles. They're both regulars, and she's served them many times before. Nice people, too. She always likes to see them there. "And what'll you have, sweetie?"
There's a moment of hesitation. "Uh, can I just get a banana nut muffin, please?"
"Sure thing," the waitress nods. She jots down his muffin and smiles at the two, before turning to leave. "Be back with your order in a few minutes."
"Thank you," the psychologist mumbles in return.
Booth is just staring at him with a look. It's a mixture between amusement and something else. It's hard to put a word to it, really. It might be disbelief. Sweets doesn't ask though. He simply waits for the agent to begin like he knows he will.
And he does. "Really?"
Booth laughs. "A banana nut muffin. For lunch."
Sweets instantly goes on the defense. He reaches for his cup of coffee to use as some sort of distraction and frowns. "What's wrong with that?"
"That's not lunch," Booth replies.
"Yes, it is."
"No," Booth stresses. "A banana nut muffin is not lunch."
"Because, it's a muffin! Muffins are pastries," Booth explains. "Pastries are not for lunch. Now a sandwich...That's lunch. That's a real lunch. Muffins are not lunch. A muffin is more like dessert."
"It is not."
"Yes, it is," Booth shoots back.
"No," Sweets counters, shaking his head and releasing his coffee so as to animate his hands and emphasize his point. He knows he's right about this. "No. A muffin...muffins are not dessert. Muffins are...meals."
Booth shakes his head. "Meals? No."
"They so are," Sweets insists. "Otherwise, why would they make them so big? Huh?"
"Because muffins are for dessert, and the bigger the dessert, the better," Booth smirks. "Why do you think the Cheesecake Factory's cheesecakes are so big? It's not because they're a meal. It's because people want to have big desserts."
"No. Muffins aren't dessert. People eat muffins for breakfast."
"Well, muffins for breakfast, that's a different thing," Booth says. "Eating a muffin for breakfast is okay. But eating them for different meals besides breakfast, that's not a good food choice. That's not a real meal, okay? That's like dessert. And besides, most people don't just eat a muffin for breakfast. They eat a muffin, but they eat it with something else. Something more filling."
"And you know who orders dessert for lunch?" Booth asks. He grabs at his coffee and smirks. As he speaks, he points an accusatory finger at Sweets. "Unsupervised children, that's who."
Sweets rolls his eyes.
"It's true," Booth nods, setting his cup down once he's had a drink.
"Okay. If I really wanted to have dessert for lunch, which I don't, I wouldn't have ordered a muffin," Sweets tells him. "Because muffins aren't dessert. Muffins are meals. If I wanted dessert for lunch, I would have gone with the pie. I'm sure you would have gone with the pie, too."
"Yeah, well, that's because they have the best pie here," Booth replies.
"Yeah. Well, they've got the best muffins here too," Sweets says. "That's why I ordered one. And they're not dessert. They're big, but they're not too big. They're just right. Big enough to keep you full but not enough to be considered dessert. And they're so fresh, too. Oh, it's like...you take one bite and it melts in your mouth. It's utter muffin perfection."
"Utter muffin perfection?"
"Yeah, it's utter muffin perfection," Sweets nods. "I promise you."
"Okay," Booth shrugs. "But it's still dessert."
"And, you know what? You're spoiling your meal, you know that? Only twelve year olds order dessert for lunch instead of real food," Booth tells him. "I should put you in time-out."
"Oh, please." Sweets rolls his eyes again, albeit amused.
"Yeah, I should. Because you need to learn proper life skills, such as eating healthy. And not eating dessert for lunch, or for dinner. Muffins are not lunch, okay? That's not gonna keep you filled at all. You're a growing boy. Growing boys gotta eat."
"Muffins are meals!"
"They are not meals, Sweets. I'm sure Bones would agree with me on this one," Booth replies, wishing the anthropologist was there to back him up as he is sure she would. "She knows things like this, okay? She's a scientist."
"Oh, really? That's weird. I was sure she would agree with me."
Booth smirks. "Oh yeah? Is that a challenge, Dr. Sweets?"
The psychologist smirks right back. "Only if you think you can handle the rejection, Agent Booth."
"Oh, don't worry about me, Pal." Booth laughs, reaching his hand into his pocket and pulling out his cell phone. He flips it open in one fluid motion and hits his speed dial, holding the phone up to his ear. "I'm not the one who you should be worried about."
"Care to make this interesting then? Since you're so sure."
"All right," Booth nods. "We can make this interesting. Five bucks. And...loser has to pay the bill. Every day for the next week."
"Okay then. Prepare to pay," Booth warns the psychologist and profiler. He adjusts his grip on his phone and turns his attention to the voice on the other end of the reciever. "Bones, hey. No, nothing. Listen, me and Sweets are at the diner and we're having a little disagreement. No, this isn't pertaining to the case...Yeah, I know Bones. Just help me out for a second here, alright? Partner? Okay. Sweets thinks that a muffin counts as a proper meal."
"It's a banana nut muffin," Sweets reminds him. "Be specific!"
"Alright, a banana nut muffin," Booth continues, with a quick roll of his eyes. "Anyway, he says that that's a meal. I say that muffins aren't meals. They're desserts, right? There's no way that a muffin constitutes as a real meal. There's just no way."
There is a pause as the agent listens to his partner speaking. Sweets is beyond curious.
"What is she saying?" He asks. "Does she agree with me? I bet so. She does, doesn't she? I knew I was right."
Booth holds up a finger in an attempt to quiet the excited psychologist. "Shh!" Then after a second, "No, not you, Bones! Sweets. He's interrupting...No, I know. That's why I called you. No. Sweets thinks that a muffin is a meal and he's wrong. Right? I mean, a muffin is not a good lunch. A muffin is for dessert...Yes, I know that people eat muffins for breakfast, Bones. But it's not the same thing..."
"It is the same thing," Sweets says. "It is."
Booth ignores him. "Well, that's what I told him. No, I know! A muffin is not a healthy lunch. Growing boys got to eat real food. I know, muffins are real, yes. I told him only unsupervised children order dessert for lunch...Yes, I realize that Bones...Yes, I know he's not a child...Well, of course he can eat whatever he wants! I'm just saying that muffins aren't really proper meals...they're desserts."
"I'm winning," Sweets decides.
Booth continues to ignore him. "I know, Bones. Help me out a little here, huh? You're supposed to be on my side."
"Oh, I am winning," Sweets laughs.
"Okay, you know what?" Booth begins, pulling the phone away from his ear for a second and tossing a harmless glare in the young man's direction. "Can you be quiet for one second so we can settle this? Please. Or else I'm going to make you pay for the bill, regardless of if you win or not...which, by the way, you will not. Now," he sighs, returning to his phone call. "Sorry about that, Bones."
Sweets rolls his eyes, yet again.
"Yes, we've factored that in already. No, that's what he says. Yeah, I know, so tell him he's wrong so we can get free lunches for a week. No, Bones!...Ah, Bones, Bones, come on. I know you're very busy but just...It is! This is important. It's very important, Bones. Sweets needs to learn that his diet is poor and he's not going to grow up big and strong if he keeps on this way. It's up to us, okay? We've got to show him the light!"
Sweets frowns, confused.
"Yeah, Bones, I know. Sweets is very tall, yes...Just...just tell me what you think about the muffin thing, all right? We need your opinion. Then you can get back to doing your bone thing. Now, you're with me, right? Muffins aren't meals, they're just desserts. Pastries. Not...hold on, Bones...Bones?"
Sweets' frown dissipates and is replaced with a smile. "She hung up on you, didn't she?"
"No," Booth grumbles, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "The call was dropped. It's this stupid phone company."
"She didn't agree with you," Sweets said.
"Yeah, well, she didn't agree with you either," Booth replied. "We're just gonna have to settle this on our own."
Sweets shrugs. "Well, I've already supported my argument."
"Well, you need to support a little harder, Sweets, 'cause I still don't agree with you."
"Okay," Sweets sighs. "Muffins are meals. They are, because...first of all, they're real food and they're healthy, too. I mean, it's banana nut...that's like a serving of fruit, okay? Muffins are good for you."
"Muffins are not good for you!" Booth laughs. "Muffins are not good for you, and they most certainly are not like servings of fruit, alright? Okay, you need a serious reality check if you actually believe that. Nice try. Why else do you think people get muffin tops? Huh? I'll tell you. It's because muffins make you fat. True fact."
"Not if you exercise and live an otherwise healthy lifestyle," Sweets suggests. "Obviously if you eat nothing but muffins 24/7, you're gonna add on some weight. It's not like I'm eating muffins all the time, okay? One muffin for lunch isn't going to kill me." He decides not to mention the fact that he'd had one for breakfast with Angela, as well. He doesn't think Booth really needs to know that. He knows his argument will be invalid if he does. "And that's not just true about muffins. You could be eating pies 24/7 and get fat. Eat anything for 24 hours a day and you're going to get fat. There's no avoiding it."
"Muffins aren't healthy," Booth says. "You know why?"
"Because, they're pastries, and pastries do not count as meals. Pastries are desserts. All you're doing is eating a cupcake without the frosting."
"No!" Sweets shakes his head, firmly. "Nuh-uh. Muffins and cupcakes, totally not the same thing, okay? That's a totally different ballpark."
"They're not that different, Sweets. They're both little cakes in cute wrapping paper."
"Cupcakes and muffins are totally different," Sweets argues. "They're really not the same, okay? I understand how you might get them confused, but they're really not the same thing. And I'll agree with you on the whole eating cupcakes for lunch thing. That's not a real meal, I will admit it. But muffins aren't cupcakes, hence why they do so count while cupcakes do not."
"There's no difference between muffins and cupcakes, Sweets."
"Yeah, there's a big difference, Agent Booth!" Sweets frowns. "First of all, cupcakes are cakes...mini cakes. Muffins are more like...like, bread. Like banana bread, okay? Banana bread is not the same thing as cupcakes with banana cream frosting. Cupcakes are for celebrations and dessert. Muffins are for everyday. They're not the same."
"Well, not everyday! Just every now and then. There's no harm in it."
Booth shakes his head. "Okay, whatever."
"Nothing. If you wanna spoil your appetite and eat a muffin for lunch, far be it from me to stop you," Booth says, hands up in surrender. "Just don't come complaining to me later when your stomach hurts and you're craving a grilled cheese sandwich 'cause I can't help you with that."
"I'm not going to come complaining to you," Sweets glowers.
"Yeah, well, if you're only eating a muffin, you are," Booth finishes. He still disagrees with Sweets' argument. There's no way that a muffin is a meal, he says to himself. Afterall, there's no way that a muffin can keep someone full and give them enough energy to last the rest of the day. He figures that he's going to have a hungry Sweets on his back begging him for an early dinner. He doesn't look forward to it. Though the fact that he was right will be sweet.
"Am not," Sweets replies, childishly.
Booth shakes his head in amusement, as the waitress rounds the corner and brings them their plates. She sets his pastrami sandwich down first, then Sweets' muffin.
"All right, then. Pastrami and a banana nut muffin," she smiles. "Can I get you guys anything else?"
Sweets looks to Booth then back to the waitress. "Uh, actually..."
"Can we just ask you a quick question?"
The waitresss furrows her brows in confusion but nods, nonetheless. "Uh, sure. Go ahead."
"Okay...muffins," Sweets begins, hoping to God that the waitress will agree with him and not Booth. He wouldn't be able to stand the humiliation. "Meals...or dessert?"
The waitress purses her lips and thinks. "Muffins. Meals or dessert...hm..."
Booth decides to take over. "He says that muffins are a proper meal. But they're not proper meals. Muffins aren't meant for lunch. Muffins are desserts. They're desserts, right?"
The waitress looks turns to the agent. "Well, that depends...what do you mean by dessert?"
"What do I mean by dessert," Booth shrugs. "Dessert! Icecream, cake, pie. That kind of thing."
"Okay, so you're saying dessert as in something that comes after, say, dinner, right?"
Booth nods. "Yeah. Dessert."
The waitress nods and turns to face an anxious Sweets. She gives herself a moment to think over her answer, and then says to no-one in particular, "Well, who's to say dessert isn't a meal? Where do you draw the line with that?"
"What do you mean?" Sweets asks.
"Like, he's saying that dessert counts as something you eat after a meal, like lunch or dinner," the waitress explains. "But doesn't dessert count as a meal, then? Since you're treating it as a seperate thing. Dessert is like a mini-meal that you have after you've already eaten your main one."
"Oh," Sweets nods. "I get what you're saying."
"No. No, dessert doesn't count as a meal," Booth denies. "Because for it to count as a meal, it's got to be able to stand alone. You can't just eat dessert for dinner, and that's it. That's not a good dinner."
"Well, you can. It's just not suggested," Sweets says.
"No. We're not counting dessert as a meal here, all right? Dessert is not the same thing as a meal. We are talking about lunch and dinner, not anything else. And muffins are pastries and pastries are dessert, therefore, not a meal."
"Well, now it's not a meal because you said that dessert doesn't count," Sweets complains. "But dessert is a meal! Therefore, the muffin counts. So, muffins are totally meals. They're not just desserts."
The waitress has to take a moment to figure out what's just been said.
"No. I'm telling you, Sweets. You're not listening," Booth shakes his head. "Muffins are pastries and pastries are desserts and desserts are not meals, therefore the only thing we can deduct from this "equation", Smartass, is that muffins aren't meals."
The waitress turns to Sweets.
"No, that's totally unfair," Sweets replies. "Because you went and changed dessert from a meal to not-a-meal just so that you would win the argument. But you don't, because desserts do count as meals, as the waitre- I-I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"
The waitress smiles. "Jasmine."
"As Jasmine said," Sweets continues, casting a quick embarassed glance at the waitress. "Thank you. And...since desserts are meals, and meals are muffins..." The psychologist leans back in his seat and exhales confidently, "Obviously, muffins are meals."
The waitress laughs.
"I didn't go changing anything, Sweets," the agent denies. "The dessert-meal thing was never established from the beginning. And I've never considered dessert to be a meal so, we're not going to count it as a meal here. And if desserts being meals is your only argument here, then game over, Bub. Because you're still admitting that muffins are desserts. That's what the whole conversation is about. Therefore, I win. Bam!" The agent snaps his fingers.
"No," Sweets frowns. "The conversation is about whether a muffin counts as a meal or not. Dessert is just one minor supporting detail."
"Okay," the waitress interrupts. "If you guys don't need me, now...I need to get back to work."
"Oh! Sorry," Sweets apologizes.
"Don't worry, it's no problem," the waitress smiles. "Thank you for including me. I'm sorry I wasn't much help. I think I just made everything more confusing. Enjoy your muffin. Call if you need anything else."
Sweets waits for the waitress to walk away before turning back to the agent sitting across from him. Booth shakes his head and laughs, and Sweets can't help but do the same. They both know their discussion is getting nowhere.
"You wanna just call a truce?" Sweets asks.
"What, giving up so easily, Sweets? I'm surprised."
Sweets shrugs. "Hey, you know we're never going to end this without an expert's opinion. And I'm hungry, so we should probably just eat and get back to work and then come up with some supporting facts overnight and we'll see who wins in the morning. Besides, we can always ask Cam or Angela and Hodgins in person and see what they think."
"Ah, you're probably right, "Booth agrees, turning his attention to his sandwich. "You know you're going to be hungry later, though. Don't expect me to listen to you when you start crying."
Sweets rolls his eyes for a millionth time. "I'm not going to cry."
"Alright, whatever you say, Sweets," Booth teases, shaking his head and grabbing for his sandwich. "Oh! Looks good, huh?" He picks up half of his sandwich and holds it up for Sweets to get a better view. "Yeah. You sure you just wanna eat a muffin?"
"I'm sure, Agent Booth. I'll be fine."
"Okay," Booth replies, unconvinced. "Whatever you say."
"You don't believe me."
"Mm, I'm not saying anything else," Booth replies, taking a bite of his sandwich. For now, all he wants to do is focus on his food. It's all he has to look forward to before they have to get back to working the case.
"I'm not going to complain," Sweets tells him. "Do you see the size of this thing?" He asks, pointing to his muffin. "This is gonna hold me over until dinner time, I assure you."
"Okay," Booth acknowledges, his mouth full.
"Yeah. And you don't have to worry about me bothering you either," Sweets goes on. "Because I'm not. Because this muffin is going to keep me satisfied all day long. That's why it's meal. Because otherwise, I would get hungry later and that wouldn't be a good lunch. If I knew that was going to happen I wouldn't have ordered it. "
Booth sighs. "Sweets?"
"Shut up and eat your dessert."