Previous: First Date

Seeley couldn't help but look at her when she chuckled, seeing her smile, hearing her tease, hearing her happy. It was a good thing. “I think you're fine as you are.”

Quiet. Storytime. It was the most she'd opened up in the whole time they'd spent together. Given the content, he understood why she might not want to say that on the phone, who knew who was listening to that? He had an inkling, given his job, but he avoided that whole part of it if he could help it. Only when necessary. He preferred other methods.

“From what I gather, you're the only reason he's still around.” She was protective of her friends. As he was of his. Of her. It was why his commanding officer called him 'Paladin' and Sweets wrote of his 'white knight syndrome'. He would never change.

She was about to open up. To say something, something he wanted to hear, to use, but. There was that insecurity. “I… You know what my job entails, Gabriella. I can't…” He took his hand away from hers, pinched his nose, then returned it. If her hand was still there, he placed his back where it was. He wasn't paying attention with the thoughts whirling through his mind.

Fuck it. She's worth more than that.

He fought to get out his words, knowing what she might be about to say. “I'm too soft… I promise anything you say in this car, now, is between us alone. But understand if you say anything after, I cannot hold back?”

Her heart sank, not from his words but from the way he took his hand away and the low humming static in her head began to rise in volume. No. Not a Very Bad Attack. No. Gabriella Lucia Carmich–hand. Oh. Hi. Her fingers curled once more through his.

“I don't think you can use it, because it's part hearsay and partly my own speculative hindsight…” She whispered, looking down at her lap. He insinuated he had knowledge of the crime scene. She didn't know if it was firsthand or photographic. She wasn't sure she wanted to know. The slaughter of Anthony, Concetta, Sergio, and Enzo Carmichael was one of the most gruesome crimes the city had seen in a long time.

“I wasn't even at class, I was in the cafeteria between classes when the noon news reporter stopped midsentence. That's how I found out. By the time I got home, everyone was…everywhere. I know I heard this bloodcurdling scream…I didn't know it was me making it. I was taken away by social services to meet with an emergency therapist to help me process it.” Static. Shhh.

“Big Ange came to the bar I worked at two weeks later. And he told me that because of what I had done for his son, he would ensure that whoever killed my family never touched me. It was one of those…I know you're the one who did it but I have no proof moments that you see on Law & Order or something. He'd asked for my class schedule when he came to my father's house to thank me after I was arrested. But…none of us thought anything of it, especially when the next day a bouquet of flowers was delivered to my Forensics class. But after the murders, when he came to the bar…I knew it in my heart. But his condition was that I not try to revive the Carmichael Family. So long as I lead a life on the right side of the law, I'm safe. I managed to convince him to extend that promise to my grandfather, who sat in a nursing home. He died two months ago, he was eighty-two.”

She looked at him. “All speculation. My gut says Big Ange wanted my class schedule so that I would live. A life for a life. He sent the bouquet to both thank me and provide plausible reason for asking my class schedule. But it's all just my own speculation. There is no solid evidence linking the Carluccis to my family's deaths.”

He softly squeezed her hand in his as she spoke. This was the information he wanted from her, and here she was, giving it to him, freely. Yes, there was a promise, he couldn't use it, but…

“I can't use any of that. With or without my promise. Apart from your side, you've told me nothing new.” No, not entirely true. It was The Big One. Everyone available had been called in for that. He was there when she screamed. Sweets was the one who dealt with her case, given the complexity and sensitive nature of the whole thing, the crime family. She didn't know enough to be useful, but he did make sure she was able to live a normal life.

It was a tough time in her life. How would she react if she realized he'd been there watching out for her even then? It was a different dynamic, that of law enforcement trying to look after the remains of a family after a member's death. Or in this case, the murder of the entire family in a mob hit. He knew who did it. He just couldn't connect it back to the Carlucci family in any way. Big Ange was too good. That was what it had taken him a few moments to connect her to the whole thing when he'd first met her those two weeks ago.

Wait… That wasn't the first time, but he hadn't registered then. Everything was coming together like a big jigsaw puzzle. Were they meant to be together? He believed in Destiny, but not like this. He'd take anything he could, however small.

Never let go.

“I'm glad you're still here, screamer.” He took a risk. She'd mentioned she screamed, but it was the nickname they'd given her in the office. She might notice the playful smirk on his lips, if she were looking at the right moment, before his cheeky grin returned.

“I…I'm kind of sorry you can't use it.” She said lowly. For a moment she brought back a few fleeting memories of that day. The paramedics she overheard talking. All of them dead except the daughter who'd been at school. The woman who'd caught her around the waist when Gabriella had sprinted towards the Carmichael home, the world slowing down as she'd pulled the college senior backward, the way she'd screamed as she was handed over to a youngish looking man who couldn't have been much older than Gabi. Water. A hand on her back. Words.

She pushed them away as he spoke again and that one word. Screamer. It should have pushed the wrong buttons. But it didn't. Not right now. The implications of his word. He'd been there. Meaning he worked with the young man who had counseled her that day and for about six months afterward to get her out of her shell-shocked state. He'd even come to her college graduation a week after the hit. Just so Gabi would have someone in the crowd clapping for her. Not even a year after her last appointment with him, he was gone.

Her eyes met his. Those eyes. That grin. She smiled and squeezed his hand a little tighter. She wanted to tell him she was sorry about his friend. But look at him looking at you, Gabriella. He's so happy. Look how happy you make him.

She didn't speak. Just smiled at him.

Seeley shook his head. “It's okay. They'll trip up sometime.” That's how he felt. All criminals would do something that would end up in them getting caught.

Sweets suggested they go to her graduation, she needed someone who would applaud for her, who would support her when she needed it. Booth was a good father figure in his life, and she needed one.

Sweets. Taken too soon. Another brother in arms lost. This was why he did the jobs he did. Don't let her see, Seeley. Too late.

His smile cracked, the twinkle in his eyes faded. Only a moment. She could see the loss behind that look. It wasn't just Sweets. The weight of many weighed on his shoulders for that brief moment before he locked it down. Happy. Be happy. Happy with her.

Squeeze. You make me happy, Gabriella. Even with two weeks under our belt, all of that while I was busy, I look forward to spending time with you. I will hold on to that thought. Always.

“The Shrink did a good job with you. You turned out so well.” No need to hide it anymore.

She was looking right at him when his face faltered for just a moment. He squeezed her hand and she could remain quiet no more. Squeeze. Brush of thumb over the back of his hand. “I'm sorry about your friend. He helped me out so much. He came to my graduation too. So I wasn't alone. Your agency…did so much for me even though I couldn't be useful.”

His next words gave her pause, but her brain was refusing to make the connections. “I turned out…” She looked up at him. She'd never met him before that fated little impromptu gun show. Turned out. But it didn't make her feel weird. He was FBI. Of course, the FBI would have kept tabs on the sole survivor and seeming heir apparent to the Carmichael crime family. Even with Sweets' report that Gabriella wanted nothing to do with the mafia and had, by the time he made his final report, graduated magna cum laude with her Bachelor's in Criminal Justice and a minor in forensics, they would keep an eye on her.

“You know. Best way to keep tabs on me is to date me.” She shot back with a twinkle in her eye.

Seeley felt her squeeze when he had that little failure of composure. It felt good. Reassuring. He relaxed and guided the car into the garage lot under his building, parking up ready to take her inside. He waited for a bit to finish the conversation.

“I was there too, I just didn't want to remind you of the bad times, so I let him congratulate you alone.” OK, now it sounded like he was a creepy stalker. It wasn't like that. It really wasn't like that. He hadn't had any interest in her until she pushed his buttons at the gun show. And the coffee shop. And needed support when he screwed up. Bigger, happy smile. Although it was something bad, it was the catalyst that had brought them together, so it couldn't be anything but a happy thought.

“What's this then? Just friends going shooting at the range?” He'd intended it as a date, just… Hadn't pushed the matter. He was still trying to be soft with her.

He popped his door, walked around to hers, opened it, and offered his hand to help while he awaited her response.

Most would have taken it as exactly that. Creepy. But again. Mob life. She knew. She understood. Squeeze. His smile got bigger and she felt her heart pounding for a moment. On some innate level, she knew what it was. The static roared at the thought. She was, after all, still in the middle of a panic attack, really. The subject matter hadn't made it better, but thanks to his presence, it hadn't made it worse.

“I understand.” She said softly. But she grinned and reached past him, touching the driver side window. “Got some joke splatter over here.” She murmured, unaware of the sort of effects lips so close to an ear could be. Her remark about dating had been a joke. She'd been teasing him. She shifted back as he got out, taking his hand and stepping out of the vehicle.

“We're on a date, Seeley.” Came the soft affirmation, just as close as her previous words, even though her lips were farther away this time.

Her words in his ear sent chills down his spine. He'd known she intended it as a joke, but he still wanted to push those buttons. That she did end up responding in agreement made up for missing the joke. It had been too close to the reality in his head for him to see it as a joke.

He closed the door behind her, leaving the car unlocked. It was safe here. He didn't let go of her hand, shifting his grip to take her fingers and squeeze for a moment, before letting go. No, wait, be the gentleman.

He moved to her side and held his elbow out as before, letting her slip her arm through, then brought her to the basement entryway. One 'Visitor' lanyard later, they were in the range, ready to shoot.

“I know you've probably shot a pistol, but anything you'd like to try in particular? Or should I just check out a range of items and teach you the basics?”

She squeezed back and smiled, then slipped her arm through his, resting her hand on his forearm, near his wrist. Once they were in the range, Gabi was about to reply when security came up, Gabi's driver license in his fingers. “Ma'am. Gonna have to ask you to leave the range.”

Gabi inhaled and breathed out. “Alright. I don't want any trouble.” She said softly, her expression falling, her smile fading, indicating that perhaps the young woman was used to this sort of thing.

Seeley extracted his arm from hers, reaching into his pocket for his badge and ID. “Booth. She's with me. As long as she's with me, she's under my control.” He showed his ID, his badge, then tucked them back away. “Go talk to the director if you have a problem. I can wait.”

“Sir, yes sir!” The guard's face drained with the realization of who he was dealing with. The man who would be King. Or at least, Assistant Director. He'd turned down the opportunity at both that and Deputy Assistant, he had a lot of sway in the building.

“Sorry you had to deal with that.” He sighed. He would protect her. It didn't matter what from, he would protect her. “I still need an answer.” He didn't like to repeat himself, so he left it there.

Her cheeks were burning red, her head bowed to send her ebony hair forward to hide her face as Seeley pulled his rank….just to let her shoot something more than the VP9.

I need an answer, princess. She blinked. He hadn't said that. Had he? No. No, he hadn't. He was inside her head, she almost could swear he was in it.

“I would like to try some new guns. I won't ever be able to own one, but the chance to shoot one? Yes please.” She lifted her head and smiled at him.

He led her to the bays at the far end of the range, out of the way. If anyone wanted to talk to them, they'd need to go all the way, and they'd have to go through him to get to her. It wasn't quite the far end, there were a couple set up for snipers to lay out and practice, something he'd done plenty of times, but nobody was using them. It was late enough in the day that they were alone apart from the quartermaster and rangemaster, and he knew them well enough to know they wouldn't speak a word of who he'd brought in.

“Wait here, I'll grab a few things.” He shrugged out of his jacket, removed his tie, and slipped out of his holster. He wouldn't need that with what he planned. He checked everything with the quarter, discussing what he wanted, and returned with a tray on top of a stack of paper targets. There were a few different items on the tray, and ammo boxes stacked against the wall behind them for refills. Each item had 2 spare magazines in addition to the one inside.

Glock 22 .40 S&W, standard sidearm for the FBI
1911, his choice of sidearm
Remington 870 Express shotgun along one long side of the tray.
HK416 Assault Rifle along the other side.

All of them might need support from him for the slight girl to fire with safety. He was prepared to give her what she needed. Maybe not the biggest gun, ironically, but he was prepared for anything.

He set everything down on the counter in the bay he'd chosen, shifting the tray off to one side so the targets were available.

“Ready?”

Next: Caress the Trigger