What if Dr. Brennan had a little sister all this time? Venus, who is 9 years younger than Temperance Brennan had started working in the Jeffersonian Institution at 18. Already having three doctorates' degrees and whole lot of secrets about her past...
Booth hands him the paper and a pen as Gordan says, "Certainly. No, no, I have a pen. I have a pen. Um, do you mind if I ask what exactly it was that you did?" "Yeah, I shot a truck." "Ah, full of terrorists, no doubt, or plutonium or fleeing felons, was it?" I then say, "No... It was an ice cream truck..." He then looks up at Booth, "Do you have a good reason for firing on it?" "Yeah, the music, it was bothering me." I just sigh as Gordan says, "Ah." Booth then says, "Yeah, there was a speaker in a clown's mouth. Yeah, I just pulled out my gun, you know, and..." He starts imitating shooting at the clown's head making gun shoot noises.
Gordan then says, "So the FBI sent you to me because you shot a clown?" "Not a real clown." "I suggest you cogitate on the underlying reasons you shot that clown while I make all of us some tea." I chuckle a bit as Booth says, "What? Cogitate? Tea?" I then say, "Shall I help you bring out the tea Dr. Wyatt." "Yes please, that would be fantastic. And please call me Gordon Dr. Venus. And if you would like I think my wife has some clothes from when she was younger that might fit you." "Thank you that would be amazing and please just call me Venus, Gordon." We both go inside leaving a confused Booth outside.
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Gordan and I came back out with the cups and tea as I had changed to a nice dress. I had texted Cam that I might not be at the lab today or tomorrow. I set the tray down on the small round table as I sat next to Booth and Gordon serves us tea. Booth then says, "You are really English." Gordon then says, "Oh, I don't know, I think I've assimilated quite well. Typical American house, right down to the white picket fence, a truck that's the, uh, what is it, the heartbeat of America? But tea, is, uh, sacrosanct, thank you very much." "Me, I'm a coffee drinker." I then take the cup of tea, "I will have some tea." "Listen, pal..."
Gordon then cuts him off, "You know, in an effort to understand your culture better, I've been trying to embrace this very American practice of preparing meat in the garden." I watch in amusement as Booth was getting frustrated as he says, "Barbecue." "Mm, it's a delightful word, isn't it? 'Barbecue." I nod adding, "I think it's from the Caribbean, barbaicu, which means a sort of sacred fir pit." Booth gives me an annoyed look as Gordon says, "Yes, I see that your very knowledgeable about this." "Yes, one of my doctorates is on archaeology." "How nice, my I ask what the others are?"
I nod, "I also have a doctorate on forensic anthropology and geology/mineralogy. And two B.A.'s on engineering and kinesiology." "Very impressive, mine is only on forensic psychology. Did you know that the Latin for 'hearth', though, is 'focus.' Isn't that revealing?" I nod, "That would mean that it is literally the focal point of every household." "Yes, the hearth, the heart. Huh? Interesting." I nod as Booth was confused, "I told the ice cream guy I was sorry, all right? I-I even bought him a new clown head." I nod, "Yes, he did do that... I also bought all of his ice cream for additional compensation." Booth nods and tries to hand him the paper and pen, "So just sign the paper."
Gordon looks at it then says, "I must apologize, but I've got to go off and get some ingredients for my mortar. Um, why don't we reschedule?" "We can't reschedule, all right? We got to get back to work!" "Oh. Well, in that case, um, why not finish off, uh, preparing this area here? Could you do that? All the specifications are on the plans. You are fit for physical labor, aren't you? I mean, the clown didn't return fire, did it?" I chuckle as we both stand up, "Well, what if I said that the plastic clown did fire back, huh?" "Brilliant."
