HH; Zack/Bones sock
So. Zack was here.
Only... Zack was here. And not only was Zack here, but Zack was convinced that Brennan was an alcoholic. Or... in a cult. Or in some form of alcoholic cult? Whatever the combination of words, Zack was at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and was being fed incredibly false knowledge from somebody. Judging by the state of Hodgins' letter, she wouldn't suspect him, but... Okay, it was time to investigate this. 'Get to the bottom of it', if you will, as some people said.
He had to be in Ravenclaw. She couldn't imagine him having been placed in another house. He wouldn't be so hard to find. And sure enough, she entered the common room of the house to find the perpetrator sitting cross-legged, idly, in front of a coffee table-like piece of furniture in the corner. Mechanical parts lay, strewn all across the table and the floor, completely surrounding the other man. Some even in his lap. Was he building another robot?
"Zack," she called out in a sharp voice, hands in the pockets of her pants as she looked onto the younger of the two. She'd chosen to dress a little more casually at this school, rather than back at the Jeffersonian. She wasn't at work. She wasn't expected to be too executive any longer. She hoped.
Zack's head automatically jumped up at the sound of her voice, eyes flashing in excitement. Oh, he had definitely taken advantage of this whole 'not at the Jeffersonian' thing. Jeans, sneakers, and a shirt with a strange 'S' emblazoned on it under his zip-up shirt. It was an oddly familiar sight, Zack Addy dressed as a teenage boy again, and it drew Brennan's mouth into a bit of a smile.
"Dr. Brennan!" Zack suddenly yelped, a sense of urgency in his voice. So much for that moment. He was grabbing at mechanical parts, shoving them onto the coffee table - rather unceremoniously - and standing up, quickly. "It's good to see you here, and, yes, hello, nice to be speaking to you again, but can we skip the greetings? Because I must know--"
"Am I in a cult?" Brennan finished for him, eyebrow quirked. "Hodgins sent me a letter. Zack, I'm not in a cult. I've never been in a cult. And I'm certainly not an alcoholic. Where did you get these ideas?"
Zack was frozen in his spot, arms stuck, ramrod straight, to his sides, eyes wide with alarm. Not in a cult? Or an alcoholic. Zack automatically pointed towards the direction of the sorting room, so quickly you could almost see his shoulder dislocate. "The-talking-hat-said-so-I-shouldn't-have-listened-I-won't-do-it-again-are-you-sure?" he blurted out in one string of breath, eyes wide. Brennan actually laughed, shaking her head towards the man and fixing him with A Look.
"Yes, Zack. I'm sure. I'm... very much not an alcoholic. I've barely even touched the Ravenclaw bar."
Confirmation! He looked as though fifty pounds had just been lifted off his shoulders, and slumped slightly in relief. "Now would be the time that normal citizens would say something along the lines of 'Thank God', or something similar. So I will. Thank God."
The poor boy was slightly helpless.
"Well, on that note," Brennan added with a shake of her head. Talking hats. She's seen the talking hat in question, and had somewhat considered it confirmation that she was, in fact, going insane, in this school. She wasn't surprised that it had led Zack to false conclusions, at this juncture. "It is good to see you, Zack, when did you get here?"
"Just a few days ago," Zack replied sheepishly, turning back to his table of robot parts and picking at a few of them. "A week or so, actually. After Hodgins left, it was just me, Booth, Angela and Dr. Saroyan at the Jeffersonian." He grimaced, slightly pained, at the memory. "Two women and an FBI agent. Sounds like a sitcom, does it not? Anyway, I decided to follow. This place is..." Interesting? Weird? Fantastical? "Different."
"Very," she confirmed with raised eyebrows, glancing around the room. "A bar, right by our dorm rooms. It's not like any school I attended." With a nod towards the mechanical parts, she let her gaze settle back on Zack, curiously. "Building another robot?"
He grinned, almost shyly, nodded his agreement. "Yes, for an applicant. He wants one to deliver his mail. Rather than the... owls." Egads, the owls. They definitely took some getting used to. And he certainly hadn't already.
Surveying the parts, she cocked her head slightly in curiosity, an idea obviously piquing within her mind. "Do... you want help?"
Did he want help? From Dr. Brennan? Zack smiled weakly, folding his arms in a slightly defensive manner. No, he didn't need help. He could handle robots all on his own. Besides. "No offense, Dr. Brennan," he replied slowly, giving a mild wince. "But your lack of engineering skills worry me."
She fixed her toaster by smacking it against the counter. She wasn't too surprised. "Good idea," she commented in return, and, hey, she'd admit when she was wrong. ...Begrudgingly so, usually, but... admitting. "I'll leave you to your work then."
"Thank you, Dr. Brennan. It was good seeing you again."
"It was good seeing you too," she replied, watching as he traipsed back to his resident seat and plopped down. "Oh, and Zack?"
His head perked up.
"We're not at the Jeffersonian. I'm... fairly sure you and Jack may call me Temperance, if you like."
His face crossed into a slow smile, and he nodded again. "Okay."
Like he ever would.
Only... Zack was here. And not only was Zack here, but Zack was convinced that Brennan was an alcoholic. Or... in a cult. Or in some form of alcoholic cult? Whatever the combination of words, Zack was at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and was being fed incredibly false knowledge from somebody. Judging by the state of Hodgins' letter, she wouldn't suspect him, but... Okay, it was time to investigate this. 'Get to the bottom of it', if you will, as some people said.
He had to be in Ravenclaw. She couldn't imagine him having been placed in another house. He wouldn't be so hard to find. And sure enough, she entered the common room of the house to find the perpetrator sitting cross-legged, idly, in front of a coffee table-like piece of furniture in the corner. Mechanical parts lay, strewn all across the table and the floor, completely surrounding the other man. Some even in his lap. Was he building another robot?
"Zack," she called out in a sharp voice, hands in the pockets of her pants as she looked onto the younger of the two. She'd chosen to dress a little more casually at this school, rather than back at the Jeffersonian. She wasn't at work. She wasn't expected to be too executive any longer. She hoped.
Zack's head automatically jumped up at the sound of her voice, eyes flashing in excitement. Oh, he had definitely taken advantage of this whole 'not at the Jeffersonian' thing. Jeans, sneakers, and a shirt with a strange 'S' emblazoned on it under his zip-up shirt. It was an oddly familiar sight, Zack Addy dressed as a teenage boy again, and it drew Brennan's mouth into a bit of a smile.
"Dr. Brennan!" Zack suddenly yelped, a sense of urgency in his voice. So much for that moment. He was grabbing at mechanical parts, shoving them onto the coffee table - rather unceremoniously - and standing up, quickly. "It's good to see you here, and, yes, hello, nice to be speaking to you again, but can we skip the greetings? Because I must know--"
"Am I in a cult?" Brennan finished for him, eyebrow quirked. "Hodgins sent me a letter. Zack, I'm not in a cult. I've never been in a cult. And I'm certainly not an alcoholic. Where did you get these ideas?"
Zack was frozen in his spot, arms stuck, ramrod straight, to his sides, eyes wide with alarm. Not in a cult? Or an alcoholic. Zack automatically pointed towards the direction of the sorting room, so quickly you could almost see his shoulder dislocate. "The-talking-hat-said-so-I-shouldn't-have-listened-I-won't-do-it-again-are-you-sure?" he blurted out in one string of breath, eyes wide. Brennan actually laughed, shaking her head towards the man and fixing him with A Look.
"Yes, Zack. I'm sure. I'm... very much not an alcoholic. I've barely even touched the Ravenclaw bar."
Confirmation! He looked as though fifty pounds had just been lifted off his shoulders, and slumped slightly in relief. "Now would be the time that normal citizens would say something along the lines of 'Thank God', or something similar. So I will. Thank God."
The poor boy was slightly helpless.
"Well, on that note," Brennan added with a shake of her head. Talking hats. She's seen the talking hat in question, and had somewhat considered it confirmation that she was, in fact, going insane, in this school. She wasn't surprised that it had led Zack to false conclusions, at this juncture. "It is good to see you, Zack, when did you get here?"
"Just a few days ago," Zack replied sheepishly, turning back to his table of robot parts and picking at a few of them. "A week or so, actually. After Hodgins left, it was just me, Booth, Angela and Dr. Saroyan at the Jeffersonian." He grimaced, slightly pained, at the memory. "Two women and an FBI agent. Sounds like a sitcom, does it not? Anyway, I decided to follow. This place is..." Interesting? Weird? Fantastical? "Different."
"Very," she confirmed with raised eyebrows, glancing around the room. "A bar, right by our dorm rooms. It's not like any school I attended." With a nod towards the mechanical parts, she let her gaze settle back on Zack, curiously. "Building another robot?"
He grinned, almost shyly, nodded his agreement. "Yes, for an applicant. He wants one to deliver his mail. Rather than the... owls." Egads, the owls. They definitely took some getting used to. And he certainly hadn't already.
Surveying the parts, she cocked her head slightly in curiosity, an idea obviously piquing within her mind. "Do... you want help?"
Did he want help? From Dr. Brennan? Zack smiled weakly, folding his arms in a slightly defensive manner. No, he didn't need help. He could handle robots all on his own. Besides. "No offense, Dr. Brennan," he replied slowly, giving a mild wince. "But your lack of engineering skills worry me."
She fixed her toaster by smacking it against the counter. She wasn't too surprised. "Good idea," she commented in return, and, hey, she'd admit when she was wrong. ...Begrudgingly so, usually, but... admitting. "I'll leave you to your work then."
"Thank you, Dr. Brennan. It was good seeing you again."
"It was good seeing you too," she replied, watching as he traipsed back to his resident seat and plopped down. "Oh, and Zack?"
His head perked up.
"We're not at the Jeffersonian. I'm... fairly sure you and Jack may call me Temperance, if you like."
His face crossed into a slow smile, and he nodded again. "Okay."
Like he ever would.