Bones/CSI: Unlikely Friendship
Title: Unlikely Friendship
Characters: Sara Sidle and Seeley Booth
Summery: He insists on talking to her during class. College!fic
Spoilers: Sara's childhood (Nesting Dolls) and Booth's socks.
A/N: phdelicious made a comment about Sara and Booth being "friends with a past maybe" and this plot bunny hit me. I appologize if i messed up Booth's canon at all- I'm not as familiar with Bones as I am CSI.
o)0(o
Long before Sara Sidle took a seminar from a certain renowned criminologist that altered the course of her life she took a class in criminal justice. She didn’t plan it that way. She had wanted to take intro to anthropology but the class filled before she could register, and it was either CJ or child psychology. She needed to fill her last general ed requirement so she could spend the rest of her time focused on her science.
The first day of class she found a seat in the second row of the lecture hall, a dozen seats to the left of the center. She liked to be close enough to hear the professor while still maintaining some anonymity. The hall was by no means full, and Sara was pleased when the professor began to speak and and the seats to either side of her remained empty. Out of habit Sara wrote as Dr. Harris spoke, taking note of his education and former profession as a judge.
“I don’t think he’s going to test you on knowing his alma matter,” a voice, tinted with amusement, whispered. Sara looked over to find a young man had slipped into the chair next to her. She tried to ignore him, turning back to face the front of the room, but then he poked her in the arm.
“In case you haven’t noticed class has started already,” she scolded.
“Do you really ever learn anything on the first day of class?” As if to prove his point he leaned back in his seat and rested his feet on the chair-back in front of him.
“Nice socks,” Sara whispered sarcastically. The rest of his outfit was rather sedate- faded jeans, a black t-shirt proclaiming his love for some band she had never heard of, and black Chucks. His socks, however, were neon green with black stripes.
“Thanks,” he said with a grin, and winked at her. “I’m Seeley, by the way.”
“I’m...”
“A little louder, please, I don’t think the people in the back can hear you.” Sara startled at the voice, and looked up to find Dr. Harris was standing almost directly in front of her.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “It won’t happen again.”
“Good. Now if we could continue...”
Sara threw Seeley a scathing look, and ignored him for the rest of class.
o)0(o
Two days later Sara arrived at class twenty minutes early, and deliberately picked a seat on the opposite side of the room. She had her notebook and three different colors of pens out on the desk and was starting to write the day’s date on the upper corner of her paper when he arrived.
“Someone’s a little anal about their note taking. Or are the different colors for doodling in the margins?”
“It’s an effective way to separate main points from details and to highlight anything the professor stresses as being important,” she justified as she finished writing.
“You were captain of the chess club in high school, weren’t you?” Seeley stretched out his legs, no easy feat given the size of his frame and the narrowness of the aisles. Today his socks were red and blue checked.
“I wasn’t in any clubs in school. I did graduate in three years, though, if that’s what you want to know.” She bit the inside of her lip unconsciously, remembering how miserable those three years were and how desperate she had been to get away from her home town where she was ‘the girl whose mother killed her father.’
“I figured as much. But you’re in college now, time to relax. My frat’s having a party this weekend if you...”
“No.”
“But...”
Fortunately the professor walk in at that moment, and Sara spent the rest of the morning taking detailed notes and ignoring the man next to her, even when he scribbled the name of his fraternity and the words ‘Friday at 8’ in the margin of her paper.
o)0(o
For some reason she couldn’t understand, Seeley continued to sit next to her during every criminal justice class. From prior experience she might have thought he was doing it to copy her notes, but he never took any. She wanted to dismiss him as being a typical frat boy, only in college for the parties and the football games, but she couldn’t. Though he never took notes he did volunteer answers in class fairly often, and they were always thought provoking, if not always serious. The first time they had a test returned she snuck a peek; his A was only a few percentage points less than her own.
He also continued to ask her to whatever party he was going to that weekend, offering her a grin and a wink every time she turned him down, and not seeming at all discouraged. Not even her roommate Ali, who she got along with really well, seemed so interested in her lack of social life. She didn’t understand him, but tried her best not to think about it.
o)0(o
Her physics lab had run over, and she only just made it to class on time. Sara slid into her usual seat, not paying attention to the fact that she had purposely put herself next to Seeley when for once he was in class before her and she could have sat anywhere. According to her watch it was only two minutes until the lecture was due to begin, and she scrambled in her bag to get out her notebook and pens. It wasn’t until she had them set up the way she liked them that she glanced up at the chalkboard.
She froze, and a wave of nausea rolled over her.
“You okay?” Seely asked.
“Fine.” Sara smiled, knowing that it helped to suppress the gag reflex, and took a deep breath. “I was just trying to remember if I turned off the equipment in the lab,” she lied.
“Are you sure?” From the look he gave her he didn’t believe her.
“Yeah.” Hidden beneath the desk Sara clenched and unclenched her left hand as she stared at the lecture topic written on the board. Child Abuse: how to recognize the signs and when to report it.
At least she wasn’t going to have to worry about taking good notes. She did, though, taking them in even more detail than usual. It was easier to focus on the writing, taking care to make her O’s round and her T’s perfectly crossed, than to think about what the words meant when strung together.
She made it through the first part of class; the clinical descriptions of what qualified as abuse and what didn’t, who was a mandated reporter, and the basic sequence of events was when abuse was reported. But then Dr. Harris started with the case studies, and she couldn’t take any more. Leaving her notes where they were she stepped over Seeley’s sprawled legs and walked as quickly as she could to the door. Once outside she leaned against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut, focusing completely on taking deep breaths.
“Sara?” A warm hand pressed against her shoulder, and when she opened her eyes Seeley was standing in front of her, holding out her thick winter jacket. In her haste she had forgotten that is was November and she wasn’t in California.
“Thanks.” she accepted the jacket and put it on, wrapping it tightly around herself instead of zipping it up. Avoiding his eyes she struggled for an excuse to explain why she had bolted from the room. “I...”
“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.” He leaned against the wall next to her, and reached down to entwine one of his hands in hers. “But if you do want to talk I’m listening.”
“I’m not sure if I can.” She never shared her past with anyone, not even the court ordered psychologist she had seen for a time after she first entered foster care.
“Well how about this: I’ll sneak back into the room and grab our stuff, then we’ll walk across campus to the coffee shop and get a couple of drinks. If you want to talk about whatever it is we can, and if not I can spend the time convincing you that a kegger on Friday is just what you need.”
“You never give up, do you?” Her smile this time was genuine if a little weak.
“Not on things and people that matter.” He squeezed her hand once before letting go. “I’ll be right back.”
“Seeley...thanks.”
“Anytime, Sar. Anytime.”
Characters: Sara Sidle and Seeley Booth
Summery: He insists on talking to her during class. College!fic
Spoilers: Sara's childhood (Nesting Dolls) and Booth's socks.
A/N: phdelicious made a comment about Sara and Booth being "friends with a past maybe" and this plot bunny hit me. I appologize if i messed up Booth's canon at all- I'm not as familiar with Bones as I am CSI.
o)0(o
Long before Sara Sidle took a seminar from a certain renowned criminologist that altered the course of her life she took a class in criminal justice. She didn’t plan it that way. She had wanted to take intro to anthropology but the class filled before she could register, and it was either CJ or child psychology. She needed to fill her last general ed requirement so she could spend the rest of her time focused on her science.
The first day of class she found a seat in the second row of the lecture hall, a dozen seats to the left of the center. She liked to be close enough to hear the professor while still maintaining some anonymity. The hall was by no means full, and Sara was pleased when the professor began to speak and and the seats to either side of her remained empty. Out of habit Sara wrote as Dr. Harris spoke, taking note of his education and former profession as a judge.
“I don’t think he’s going to test you on knowing his alma matter,” a voice, tinted with amusement, whispered. Sara looked over to find a young man had slipped into the chair next to her. She tried to ignore him, turning back to face the front of the room, but then he poked her in the arm.
“In case you haven’t noticed class has started already,” she scolded.
“Do you really ever learn anything on the first day of class?” As if to prove his point he leaned back in his seat and rested his feet on the chair-back in front of him.
“Nice socks,” Sara whispered sarcastically. The rest of his outfit was rather sedate- faded jeans, a black t-shirt proclaiming his love for some band she had never heard of, and black Chucks. His socks, however, were neon green with black stripes.
“Thanks,” he said with a grin, and winked at her. “I’m Seeley, by the way.”
“I’m...”
“A little louder, please, I don’t think the people in the back can hear you.” Sara startled at the voice, and looked up to find Dr. Harris was standing almost directly in front of her.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “It won’t happen again.”
“Good. Now if we could continue...”
Sara threw Seeley a scathing look, and ignored him for the rest of class.
o)0(o
Two days later Sara arrived at class twenty minutes early, and deliberately picked a seat on the opposite side of the room. She had her notebook and three different colors of pens out on the desk and was starting to write the day’s date on the upper corner of her paper when he arrived.
“Someone’s a little anal about their note taking. Or are the different colors for doodling in the margins?”
“It’s an effective way to separate main points from details and to highlight anything the professor stresses as being important,” she justified as she finished writing.
“You were captain of the chess club in high school, weren’t you?” Seeley stretched out his legs, no easy feat given the size of his frame and the narrowness of the aisles. Today his socks were red and blue checked.
“I wasn’t in any clubs in school. I did graduate in three years, though, if that’s what you want to know.” She bit the inside of her lip unconsciously, remembering how miserable those three years were and how desperate she had been to get away from her home town where she was ‘the girl whose mother killed her father.’
“I figured as much. But you’re in college now, time to relax. My frat’s having a party this weekend if you...”
“No.”
“But...”
Fortunately the professor walk in at that moment, and Sara spent the rest of the morning taking detailed notes and ignoring the man next to her, even when he scribbled the name of his fraternity and the words ‘Friday at 8’ in the margin of her paper.
o)0(o
For some reason she couldn’t understand, Seeley continued to sit next to her during every criminal justice class. From prior experience she might have thought he was doing it to copy her notes, but he never took any. She wanted to dismiss him as being a typical frat boy, only in college for the parties and the football games, but she couldn’t. Though he never took notes he did volunteer answers in class fairly often, and they were always thought provoking, if not always serious. The first time they had a test returned she snuck a peek; his A was only a few percentage points less than her own.
He also continued to ask her to whatever party he was going to that weekend, offering her a grin and a wink every time she turned him down, and not seeming at all discouraged. Not even her roommate Ali, who she got along with really well, seemed so interested in her lack of social life. She didn’t understand him, but tried her best not to think about it.
o)0(o
Her physics lab had run over, and she only just made it to class on time. Sara slid into her usual seat, not paying attention to the fact that she had purposely put herself next to Seeley when for once he was in class before her and she could have sat anywhere. According to her watch it was only two minutes until the lecture was due to begin, and she scrambled in her bag to get out her notebook and pens. It wasn’t until she had them set up the way she liked them that she glanced up at the chalkboard.
She froze, and a wave of nausea rolled over her.
“You okay?” Seely asked.
“Fine.” Sara smiled, knowing that it helped to suppress the gag reflex, and took a deep breath. “I was just trying to remember if I turned off the equipment in the lab,” she lied.
“Are you sure?” From the look he gave her he didn’t believe her.
“Yeah.” Hidden beneath the desk Sara clenched and unclenched her left hand as she stared at the lecture topic written on the board. Child Abuse: how to recognize the signs and when to report it.
At least she wasn’t going to have to worry about taking good notes. She did, though, taking them in even more detail than usual. It was easier to focus on the writing, taking care to make her O’s round and her T’s perfectly crossed, than to think about what the words meant when strung together.
She made it through the first part of class; the clinical descriptions of what qualified as abuse and what didn’t, who was a mandated reporter, and the basic sequence of events was when abuse was reported. But then Dr. Harris started with the case studies, and she couldn’t take any more. Leaving her notes where they were she stepped over Seeley’s sprawled legs and walked as quickly as she could to the door. Once outside she leaned against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut, focusing completely on taking deep breaths.
“Sara?” A warm hand pressed against her shoulder, and when she opened her eyes Seeley was standing in front of her, holding out her thick winter jacket. In her haste she had forgotten that is was November and she wasn’t in California.
“Thanks.” she accepted the jacket and put it on, wrapping it tightly around herself instead of zipping it up. Avoiding his eyes she struggled for an excuse to explain why she had bolted from the room. “I...”
“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.” He leaned against the wall next to her, and reached down to entwine one of his hands in hers. “But if you do want to talk I’m listening.”
“I’m not sure if I can.” She never shared her past with anyone, not even the court ordered psychologist she had seen for a time after she first entered foster care.
“Well how about this: I’ll sneak back into the room and grab our stuff, then we’ll walk across campus to the coffee shop and get a couple of drinks. If you want to talk about whatever it is we can, and if not I can spend the time convincing you that a kegger on Friday is just what you need.”
“You never give up, do you?” Her smile this time was genuine if a little weak.
“Not on things and people that matter.” He squeezed her hand once before letting go. “I’ll be right back.”
“Seeley...thanks.”
“Anytime, Sar. Anytime.”