Dr. Camille Saroyan

Special Agent Seeley Booth

“You know. Every time I come in here I smell something nasty. Then when I come back, something smell even nastier then the time before. It’s a never ending funky cycle—what the hell is that?”

Dr. Cam Saroyan didn’t bother to look up from the table as Special Agent Seeley Booth walked into examination room. Her examination room actually, no one else at the Jeffersonian would know the first thing to do with her equipment, and being one of the few pathologists among throngs of archeologists currently on staff, she was the only ones who’d have interest in a body with it’s flesh still intact. Well, her and Booth that is, but he kind of preferred it when they were still breathing. Her, she liked them quiet, helped her think.

“Did you need something?” she said, her head bent low over the man’s permanently fixed eyes. What was left of them, anyway.

“Not really, just waiting for Bones to get through with some paperwork. We got a tip on case that—“

“That’s nice.” Cam pulled out a two inch sliver of wood from the man’s eye, causing Booth to let out a deep groan of disgust. She smiled as placed the find in a small glass dish for testing. “Not really a sweet hangout spot, huh Booth?”

“You did that on purpose.” He said and her smile grew just a bit brighter than before.

“I admit, I do enjoy your gross out faces, you get the cutest little lines between your eyes.” She said.  Booth lifted his hand towards her, shaking his head in warning.

“Don’t say eyes. Or wood. Or—don’t say anything that would remind me of that for the next two—no, three days. I just ate dammit.”

“And you would come here on a full stomach why exactly?” she said.

“Cause Hodges is the only one out there right now. And talking to him irritates the shit out of me.” Booth found a nearby chair and eased his long body into the seat. “I’m not sure if you realize this, but conspiracy theorists aren’t the most riveting conversationalists.”

Camille eyed him through her protective goggles. He ran his hand over his cropped brown hair, a gesture she knew meant he was exhausted. Probably not sleeping, she remembered his constant struggle with insomnia when he had a heavy case load.

“What?” he said as she watched him. “I just wanted to be around somebody normal for once. Is that so bad?”

She thought about saying something, asking if he was okay, but decided against it. That would be the girlfriendy thing to do, and she wasn’t that. Not anymore.

“Did he hurt your feelings again?” she said. “Like that time with the dirt spores. Cause I can go out there right now and—.”

“That’s cute Cam, shut up.” Booth said, a decidedly grumpy tone to his voice. “And he didn’t hurt my feelings, he was just rude.” Booth smoothed his tie. “His damn spores looked like dirt, they were dirt. And I’m—”

“Compulsively tidy, I know.” She began to scrap under the man’s fingernails with a small blade. “You juuust couldn’t help yourself.”

“You wanna laugh at me don’t you?” he sighed.

“Oh, I’m laughing on the inside, Sad Clown.” she replied.

***

“So here’s what I’m thinking.” Booth pointed across the empty street, the police vehicles that surrounded the area all long gone. All except theirs.

“If I can hit that telephone pole with this rock, then you have to go out with me.”

He watched her dark eyes narrow at his words, her hands rising to rest on her hips. And even underneath that bulky NYPD flack jacket, he could see that they were in fact a damn fine pair of hips.

“That’s how you ask me out? You wanna make a bet?”

Booth shifted his stance slightly. He’d thought it was kind of a cool idea.

“Yes?”

“What if you miss?” she said, crossing her arms under her chest.

“I won’t miss.” Booth said, trying his best not to stare at her lips. That would have been rude. Or something.

“You don’t know that.” She said. “You miss and do what? Hang that cute little head of yours in shame and walk away?”

“You think I’m cute?” he smiled, but it immediately vanished under her baleful stare.

“I think you’re a dumbass, but no. Go ahead. Throw the rock.” She said.

Booth stared down at the rock in his hand, and shrugged. “Now I don’t want to, you ruined it.”

“Oh God.” She said, then took the rock from his hand. She gave him a derisive look over her shoulder and sent it flying in a fast, low arch across the street before slamming straight into the middle of the pole.

She spun back around, and gave him a triumphant smile. Booth stared at the pole a bit longer, before bringing his gaze back to those eyes.

“Jesus.” He breathed, followed by a short laugh. “So yeah, I think you just gave me a hard-on.”

Her eyes drifted down for confirmation, before meeting his once more, seemingly pleased by the turn of events.

“You’re such a damn sweet talker, you know that? I almost swooned, swear to god.” She walked past him, her fingers lightly grazing his as she passed.

“Pick me up at eight.” She said.

***

“Is that a bullet wound?”  Cam could feel him leaning over her shoulder as she dug inside the man’s small intestine.

“For a guy who claims to be ‘grossed out by the innards’ you’re spending a lot of time standing at my shoulder. Hoverer.”

“I’m not hovering, I don’t—you make me sound like an old lady. I investigate  things for a living, I’m curious by nature.”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s more like peering, I’m peering down at the…bullet hole in that poor bastard’s stomach—where did you say they found this guy?”

“In a pond outside the city limits. I’m not really clear on the difference.”

“What?  How long’s he been dead?” Booth said, his brown eyes scanning her work intently.

“I haven’t really figured that out yet Booth, it’s what all this high tech stuff is for. You’re differentiating between peering and hovering, when by definition they’re basically the same thing.”

“Ah ha, but they’re not. To peer is to look searchingly i.e., I’m looking over your shoulder in a searching manner. To hover is to remain or linger in one place. Not the same thing. Me and Parker play Scrabble on Fridays. ” He replied, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Have you moved at all in the past twenty minutes?” she said, and the smile vanished.

“I scratched my ear.”

“Hoverer.”

***

“Now, why can’t I call you Seeley?” Cam pulled back her long dark hair, winding it up into a messy knot on the back of her head. Booth stared at her hands, wanting to tear it back down again, mess it up like he had last night. And the night before that.

“Because I prefer Booth. It suits me.” He said.

She grinned from the passenger’s seat of his car. They’d yet to go inside, both wanting to linger for just a few more minutes.

“But it’s your name.” she said. “And I like the way it feels on my mouth when I say it. Seeeeely.”

His eyes widened a bit, and he gave her a crooked grin.

“You know, you did the same thing last night when we…” he cleared his throat and leaned closer too her. “Could you do that—just one more time?”

Cam’s dimples flashed as she met him halfway. She grazed her lips against his, her nose brushing against his cheek.

“Seeeely…” she whispered, and his tongue slid along her bottom lip as his hand reached for the dark knot of hair. He pulled off the elastic band and it tumbled down across her shoulders, cascading down her back.

“So does this mean I can call you Camille.” He said against her lips. He felt her smile as she shook her head.

“Absolutely not.” She replied, just before his tongue began a deep exploration of her mouth.

***

“Okay, so…he was shot.” Booth said eyeing the man thoughtfully. Cam tossed the third bag of intestines on the silver table at her side creating a squishing noise that caused Booth to grimace.

“Sorry.” She said.

“Bullshit.” He grumbled, rubbing a hand across his stomach. She gave a small shrug.

“Seemed like the right thing to say.” Cam replied. “And yes, my guy was shot.”

“So this is murder case you’re working on. Is it something I should be involved in?”

“You’re busy remember. That thing with Brennan?” she said. His head lifted at her words, as if he’d forgotten why he’d come there in the first place. In other words, typical Booth.

“Oh, yeah. That. It’s not much really, probably a dead end.” He said. She walked over to a nearby drawer, sliding it open as she spoke to him.

“Well, I’m sure she’s probably finished, if you want to—“

“Nah, I’ll wait. Besides, this guy, I don’t know, something’s kind of fishy.” He said, rubbing his hand thoughtfully against his chin.

“You mean besides the fact that he smells like fish?” she said.

“That was low, even for you.”

“You’re the one throwing out clichés like candy, not me.”

Booth looked down at the drawer and she could swear that his face got slightly paler then usual.

“You’re not…that’s not…”

She lifted the bone saw from the drawer, an excited glint in her eyes.

“God, I love this part.” She said, before her gaze slid back to him. “That’s not too weird is it?”

“Weird, no. Not at all” he said. “Though I probably should ask where you were three weeks from Friday, I got a few unsolved serial murders on the books.”

“I was washing my hair.” She replied, lazily swinging the saw back and forth between her hands.

***

“Cam, he—”

“No.”

Booth sat back on the couch in her apartment, eyeing her cautiously. She was still dressed in her work clothes, her body held ramrod straight against the plush cushions. She’d been like this ever since he’d arrived just over an hour ago.

“Maybe if you—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She said, and he ran a hand across his face in frustration. He’d never seen her like this, so withdrawn. That mischievous glint in her eyes had vanished, replaced by something he couldn’t decipher. Pain, and something else, something he had no idea what to do with.

“Camille, please, if you just—“

“Seeley.” She said, those cool eyes turning his way. “No.”

He sighed heavily, then nodded his head.

“Okay. Don’t talk. You don’t have to say a word, just listen.”

She nodded and breathed in deeply, her face relaxing as she blew out the puff of air. They stared at each other for a moment as she waited.

“I….”  Booth cleared his throat. “I have no idea what the fuck to say”

“I need cake.” she said.

“Back in two minutes.” He replied, placing a quick kiss on her forehead before rushing toward the door.

***

She laid the bone saw to the side, and began to brush off bone dust from her arms and shoulders.

“You know, I thought you’d be—I mean, after the shit with the plaster dust I thought you might...” Booth shifted uncomfortably as he spoke, and her eyes lifted to meet his.

“I might..hesitate? Shake a bit?” She rose from her slightly crouched position over the now opened skull. “Did you think I might cry?”

He didn’t smile this time, only stared down at the head in front of her.

“You almost died Cam.” He said softly. Cam looked back down to her work, once again pushing back the memory of that day. Not that it was easy, being poisoned with toxic dust by a serial killer wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence. And it had cost her. Maybe not her life, but so many other things.

Like Seeley.

“I didn’t.” she said simply. “And I’m not one for what ifs and maybes, so that’s all that really matters anyway.”

“That’s true.” He said. “You never did—get caught up in that, second guessing yourself…”

“Nope.” She said. “Learned early on it was a waste of time. It’s funny, working with all these bone people, they get so preoccupied with the history of things sometimes they forget about the here and now. May be why most of them can’t get dates.”

“But you can? Get dates I mean?” Booth said. Cam shook her head as she pulled the man’s brain out of his skull.

“I got you didn’t I?”

***

“Oh, God…Seeley….”

He gripped the soft flesh of her hips as she slowly moved her slick walls up and down the length of his shaft. Her hands gripped the bed frame above his head, and he stared up at her, transfixed as she rocked against him. Her hair was a dark swirl around her shoulders, strains drifting down her chest, grazing her tight dusky nipples. Her breasts swayed in time with her movements, and he lifted his body to take an areola deep inside his mouth, his hand pushing against the small of her back as he licked and sucked hungrily, bringing her closer.

“Yes...” she moaned, and as she began to move faster as he released the wet nipple, his eyes finding her face once more. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted as her breaths grew shorter, heavier.

Booth watched her face when she came and held onto her as she lost control of her body. Her head was flung backward and a scream tore from her throat, followed by a series of soft moans. She shivered against him, her hands tightly gripping his broad shoulders.

“Seeley...” she whispered again, a small smile on her lips. And as he neared his own completion, Booth began to realize it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

***

“You didn’t get me, I asked you out.”

“That lame ass bet was not you asking me out. God, you men and your damn selective memories. You got a shit load of murder stats up there, but me asking you out just slipped your mind?”

“You didn’t—I was going for—fuck, I was trying to be creative dammit!  God, you’re hot, okay, it’s not like I was the first guy to ever hit on you at work.”

“I am pretty hot, aren’t I?” she grinned, then lifted a shoulder. “Doesn’t change the fact that I asked you out when all your creativeness when to shit. I waited four months for you to make a move, and that’s what I get?”

“It only went to shit because you were kind of a bitch about it.” He said.

“You’re a tough guy Seeley, I knew you could take it. Plus, I figured all the fucking later that night kind of made up for it. I know I had fun.”

“That’s not the—you…” he stopped short, staring at her until she began to squint at him in confusion.

“What? Did I say something? I can say fuck in here, no one else but dead bodies. We’re solid.”

“No, you just….you called me Seeley.” He said. Cam’s eyes widened at a bit before she quickly recovered, rolling her eyes dramatically to the ceiling.

“Sorry, old habits.” She said, turning back to the body. “Well Booth, you’ll be happy to know that while old Henry Johnson might have had a bullet in his stomach, it looks like he actually died from a brain tumor. Bout the size of a small orange. So I’m pretty sure the bullet’s probably older, it might have traveled through his body after he died. He could have carried one of those around for years, happens all the time.”

“Right.” He said. Cam could feel his eyes on her, never once looking down at the body as she spoke. But she refused to return his gaze, couldn’t bring herself to.

“So no murder” she said, her voice surprisingly level. “Which means I can leave early for once. How ‘bout that?”

He moved closer to her, and she stepped away, her hands reaching blindly for her instrument tray.

“You better check in with Brennan.” She said quickly. “You know how she gets when you…when she can’t find you.”

“Camille…” Booth said, and she gave him a small grin.

“Ah, no Camille.” She said. “Just Cam. Remember?”

Booth stared at her, his eyes raking every inch of her face before he began to slowly back away.

“Yeah.” He said, his hands sinking into his pockets. “Yeah, I do.”

She watched his face change, the seriousness replaced by the slightly arrogant grumpiness that had become so familiar.

“See ya Cam.” He said, quickly exiting through the large silver doors. Cam dropped a scalpel to the tray, and mentally willed her heartbeat to slow to a normal rhythm. 

“Goodbye Seeley.” She whispered softly, but her voice made a slight echo in the large room.

Her eyes lingered on the doors a few more seconds before she turned back to the body, forcing her mind to focus on what was in front of her. The here and now.

Not what she’d left behind.