Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Brennan sits in the passenger seat, her knees bent and legs up on the seat with her. They're on their way to visit the concert hall the victim was last seen at. She can see Booth watching her out of the corner of his eye. She’s not one to read body language, but something about his gaze is judgy. She looks down at her knees and then glances back at him.

He quickly looks away, eyes on the road. Who is he to judge? she wonders, he’s not even wearing his seatbelt.

“Last year over 6,000 people in the U.S died from not wearing seatbelts,” she says to him. She is, in her opinion, being helpful by providing a fact that will help him improve his everyday life.

He glances down at his seatbeltless chest, before looking at her briefly and turning his eyes back on the road.

“I’m a man of action,” he says with a smirk, but it’s a playful, likeable smirk, “gotta be ready to jump out at any moment.”

“How often do you have to jump out of a moving vehicle?” she asks, genuinely curious.

“Oh, you know, FBI. Anything can happen.”

She wonders, not for the first time, if he’s trying to impress her. She’s can’t say she’s particular impressed but she is enjoying whatever game is going on between them.

“So what about you, Bones?” he asks, after a moment of silence has passed.

“What about bones?”

“No, I was saying—“ he sighs, not impatient but understanding her confusion and starts again. “How did you get into bones and archeology?”

“Anthropology,” she corrects automatically.


“Right, yeah, that’s what I meant.”

She stretches her legs out to the ground now, and looks out the window. “Bones make sense to me,” she says.

“And what?” he asks, “people don’t?”

She turns back to him, her eyes holding his. “No, they don’t.”

Chapter Text

“So are you working with Booth again?” Angela asks, strolling into Brennan’s office without so much as a hello.

Brennan is still in the midst of unpacking, having only just arrived at work after being rudely rerouted by Booth at the airport. She crouches behind her desk amongst half opened boxes as she rummages through drawers.

“No, I mean, maybe, I don’t know. Have you seen my dolphin ring? I purposefully left it here so I wouldn’t loose it in Guatemala.”

“Oh sweetie, you’re not going to get out of this conversation that easily.” Angela says, sitting herself down on Brennan’s couch. “What was it like seeing him again?”

Brennan pops her head up over the desk, she knows when Angela gets like this she only wants one thing — gossip.

“He was mildly less irritating than the last time I saw him.” Brennan says, looking through the top draw of her desk.

“Do you know if he’s seeing anyone?”

Brennan shoots her a look. “Angela, working with Booth is not a euphemism for sleeping with him.”

“No, but it does make it much easier.” Angela posits.

“He’s still calling me ‘Bones’,” Brennan says huffily, “I’m never sleeping with a man who calls me ’Bones’, it’s an unimaginative and demeaning nickname. Now have you seen my dolphin ring or not?”

“Yes, middle left draw, it’s in a velvet bag. I had it polished for you while you were away.” Angela says with a smile.

Bones opens the door and pulls it out. She smiles as she tips the bag open and slides the ring onto her finger. “Thank you, Angela,” she says.

Chapter Text

“What am I meant to call you then?” he asks as they drive to the school.

Brennan sits huffily in the passenger seat. “Dr. Brennan, or Temperance, at least.”

He shakes his head. “It’s a mouthful,”

“It’s really not.” she shoots back.


“You didn’t seem to mind it so much last time we worked together,” he points out.

She glares out him, and he raises his eyebrows. “Okay, point taken… Temperance.” It sounds clunky when he says it, like the sounds don’t quite belong in his mouth.

“Thank you… Seeley,” she says slowly.

Both of them blanche at that, and Booth slides his sunglasses on. “Let’s just stick to ‘Booth’, shall we?"

Chapter Text

"So how many nights a week does 'Sexy' sleepover?" Angela asks with a smirk, sitting next to him at the bar and fiddling with her chopsticks. 

Booth laughs at first, but when he turns back to her she's waiting patiently for an answer. He squints at her, sizing her up and trying to feel out her motive. Of all the Squints she's the most normal, yet strangely the most hard to get in a way. With Bones and Zack and the bug guy he knows he's gonna get weird and awkward, but with Angela her sheen of normality hides all sorts of weirdness.

"A few," he decides to answer honestly. "Why do you care?"

She shrugs. "Just curious."

"Do I get to ask about your dating life now?" Booth asks, somehow knowing the answer.

Sure enough, Angela snorts. "No, like I said earlier, a magician never reveals her secrets."

"But I need to reveal mine to you because?"

"Because you're working with my best friend." she says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Girls, he'll never understand them.

"Oh, so this is to do with Bones and me?" he raises his eyebrows.

"Let it be on the record that I never said that and you reached that conclusion all on your own," Angela wields one of chopsticks at him.

"Who is this record for?" he asks. This conversation seems to very quickly getting out of hand.

"God, whoever, I don't care. What are your intentions with Brennan if you already have a girlfriend?" The chopstick is now pointing directly at him, almost threatening.

"My intentions? With Bones? To work with her and hopefully avoid being pulled into her nerdy world."

Angela pulls the chopstick away. "Wrong answer, Seeley."

"Call me 'Booth'," he tells her before adding, "and what? You want me to sleep with her."

"I want someone to sleep with her. And you seem like a strong candidate."

"Look, I don't know what sort of strange protective big sister slash matchmaker thing you've got going over here, but I do not want to get pulled into it." Booth says, leaning away and raising his hands in mock-surrender.

"I prefer the term 'Fairy Godmother'," Angela replies.

Booth doesn't reply, hoping the conversation is over as he takes a swig of his drink.

But then Angela leans in once more, filling the distance between them he'd just tried to create. "What happened between you two?" she asks.

"What are you talking about?"

"That first case. You guys were into each other, I know you were, and then all of a sudden you hate each other and won't work together."

"Nothing happened," he says, because he figures that's what Brennan has clearly told her, and there's no reason to dredge up something from over a year ago now.

Angela sighs, picking up her chopsticks again and stirring the food in her bowl.

"You two really should listen to me." she finally says. "I could save you both a lot of angst."

Booth doesn't reply. He finishes his drink.

"Sure," is all he says, "I'll see you back at the lab."

Angela watches him go, her mind already ticking onto the next part of her plan.

Chapter Text

"You weren't serious right?" Booth asks her as they follow the ranger's truck in their FBI rental car out into the woods.

She looks at him, confused. "I don't know to what you are referring, but I usually am quite serious."

"The cannibalism." Booth clarifies, gesturing with one hand; the other still firmly on the wheel. "The cannibalism is to what I was referring." 

She doesn't seem to pick up on his sarcasm in the second half. "That I would consider eating human flesh if given the chance? Yes, I would." Brennan says without so much as batting an eye.

"Oh, God, that's just wrong, Bones!" he says, looking at her with horror. "A person? You would eat a person?"

The Washington state woodland rushes past them outside the car. "Well, I would have questions regarding the origin of the meat," Brennan muses.

"Flesh. If it's human, it's flesh." Booth says, looking disgusted.

"I am surprised you are so opposed, I don't think I've ever seen you eat a meal without meat."

"Meat is meat, humans are humans." Booth's hand gesturing is taking on its all own life now. Brennan has noticed he does that sometimes when gets overly passionate. She decides she finds it endearing rather than annoying.

"Human and animals are not so different Booth. A pig has the same intelligence and emotional capability as a three year old child. Cows have friendships with one another. Chickens can recognise over 100 faces."

"Okay, alright, I get it. They're cute, okay. But humans need meat. That's how we evolved, anthropologically speaking." He looks at her over her sunglasses, a smug look on his face at his use of 'anthropologically speaking'.

"Yes, it is how evolved, but it's no longer needed in a modern society, and a vegetarian diet is perfectly healthy when done properly."

"Healthy? Who cares about healthy! It's boring. Why don't you use your fancy endless government supply to buy us a steak dinner one night, okay? Trust me, nothing beats a good steak."

Brennan laughs. "What happened to caring about the taxpayers?"

"This is a steak emergency. I'm sure the taxpayers will understand." Booth says so seriously that Brennan can't help but laugh again.

Booth smiles at her, both hands still on the wheel. "So you're enjoying this trip, Bones?"

She nods. "It has been much more enjoyable than I initially thought."

"See, and all it took was a cannibal to bring you out of your shell, hopefully next time such drastic measures won't be needed."

Brennan smiles at him as the pull up in the woods.

The car comes to a stop, and Booth puts the car into park and takes the keys out of the ignition. "Ready to catch a cannibal, Bones?" he asks with a grin.

Chapter Text

Booth dashes out of the observation room, grabbing a box of tissues on his way, and is by the door to the interrogation room as Brennan walks out. Her face is teary and Booth offers out the tissues to her.

"Here you go," he says, wishing he could comfort her better; he wants to hug her but feels that would be too forward. She takes a tissue gratefully and wipes her eyes.

"You were amazing in there, Temperance," he adds softly, touching her arm briefly in comfort. He realises now why this case has hit her so hard and why she was so opposed to sending the boys back into the foster system. He wants to ask her more, but he knows now is not the time. He also needs to work out how on earth he's going to secure that deal Bones promised. He'll work it out, he'll have to.

"I told you I could talk to him," Brennan says, because even in this state she has to prove him wrong.

He nudges her playfully. "I know, I shouldn't have doubted you."

She nods seriously. "It was the neighbour, Nelson, the father. Shawn saw him." For a moment she looks like she might cry again, a break in her voice and a tremor in her face, but then she recomposes herself almost instantaneously, and her eyes hold Booth's firm.

"Fuck," Booth murmurs, "that's awful."

Brennan nods again. "Well, are we going?" she asks promptly.

"To arrest him?" Booth exclaims, surprised. "You want to come now?" 

More adamant nodding and wide-eyed staring.

He hesitates, thinking about pushing to talk about how she feels, or to at least sit this one out and have a break, but then he looks at her, and she's all clenched jaw and hard gaze. No, Bones doesn't doing talking or having a break. 

This is what she does. This is what she needs.

"Yeah," he says, meeting her gaze, "you and me, let's go."

And she steps in front of him, leading the way.

Chapter Text

Booth pulls Tessa gently away from the others by the arm. "Hey, I'm sorry, but I'll need to stay here with them," he says.

Tessa leans over Booth's shoulder, shooting a glance at Angela and Brennan; Booth also turns to look at them. They're whispering something to one another, and then they glance over at Booth and Tessa and realise they're being watched. Both women burst into a fit of giggles; Brennan has to hold onto Angela to support herself. Booth doesn't think he's ever seen Bones giggle before.

"They're mean," Tessa says, folding her arms haughtily, "you realise that, right?"

"They're not mean," Booth defends, "they're just... high."

"Seeley, that one-" she points at Angela, "found me at a cafe, okay? I don't know what they're deal is, but they're mean girls."

Brennan and Angela crane their necks, trying to hear what's being said, but Angela trips and Brennan catches her, and they lose each other in a tittering of giggles again.

Booth shakes his head. "I'm sure that was a coincidence." But even he doesn't believe it.

Tessa, annoyed, now changes tactic. "We were having dinner, a nice dinner. Can't they do this part themselves?"

Booth looks back at over at Brennan and Angela. Brennan is now inspecting something on the wall and Angela is trying to braid her hair as she does so.

"No, trust me," he says turning back to Tessa, "they need some supervision right now."

She huffs. "Whatever, I'll see you sometime tomorrow, I guess."

He reaches out, trying to placate her. "No, hey, go back to my place. I'll be back in an hour or two tops."

She shakes her head, smiling exasperatedly. "Seeley, this is where you want to be, okay? Don't make me be the reason you screw up this case."

He sighs, feeling caught. "I'll make it up to you, okay? I swear. We should go somewhere, have a vacation. I've got some time coming up."

Tessa seems slightly won over by this. "We'll discuss it tomorrow. My place at seven. Don't even think about being late."

He crosses his heart cornily. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Tessa turns and leaves, and Booth turns around to Brennan and Angela. Both had shuffled closer to listen to the conversation and now pretend (very poorly) to have not been paying attention.

"Are you two going to be able to get any work done?" he asks them, arms crossed.

Brennan nods astutely. "More than usual, I would think. My brain is going to be able to sleep for at least twenty-four hours. Have you ever been high, Booth?" She speaks so fast that her words seem to collide into one another. Angela, beside her, giggles again at seemingly nothing.

Booth sighs, shaking his head. It's going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

"So you never answered me, Bones," Booth says, taking a drink and turning to her. "What would you usually be doing on the weekend?"

"Why are you so interested?" Brennan asks, not accusatorially, but genuinely curious as to his motivations.

Booth shrugs. "Can't I take an interest in my partner's life?"

She sighs, taking a moment to eat some of the rice and duck Sid had given her. She's not sure someone like Booth would ever understand her life.

"I would probably take some time to write," she says after a moment, " and I usually see Angela at some point. I do some reading."

"Do you go on any dates?" he asks her.

Brennan turns to look at him, both shocked and not. "You sound like Angela."

"God help me!" Booth says over-dramatically, and Brennan laughs, shaking her head.

"I broke up with someone before my Guatemala trip," she tells him, "and I'm just not very interested in dating right now."

Booth nods, taking a drink. "Fair enough, Bones, fair enough."

"There's a different between being alone and being lonely," she tells him. "I enjoy my life."

"I didn't say you didn't, Bones," Booth replies, hands up in mock-defense.

"What about you?" she asks him. "Shouldn't you be with Tessa... or Amy?"

Booth smiles exasperatedly, shaking his head. "See, you just can't help yourself, can you, Bones?"

Brennan doesn't say anything, letting the silence between them speak for itself.

"Tessa is a lawyer, she understands this stuff." he finally says.

"It must be nice to have such an understanding girlfriend."

Booth takes another drink, more silence. For a moment he thinks about telling her what he'd truly usually be doing on the weekends - but Parker was out of town this weekend with Rebecca.

Booth puts down some money on the counter, enough to pay for them both. "Booth, you don't need to do that," Brennan protests. 

"I stole your weekend, Bones, I owe you one." he says simply, standing up. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Brennan nods. "Okay, thank you, Booth. See you tomorrow morning."

She watches him leave Wong-Fu's, the restaurant feeling suddenly empty without his presence.

Chapter Text

Booth, on the evidence platform, strolls up to Angela who is taking photos of the now thankfully empty fridge. Below them Brennan and Michael are discussing something he can't quite hear, and probably couldn't understand even if he could.

"So, what's the deal with this guy?" he asks Angela.

Angela can't help but grin, in a smug and all-knowing kind of way. "Michael?" she asks, lowering her camera.

"Yeah, him," Booth says, gesturing at the professor below.

"He was Brennan's professor," she says, watching Booth fiddle agitatedly with his poker chip.

"And they dated?" Booth half-asks, half-states.

"Yeah, why do you care?" Angela asks, although she fully knows why Booth cares. Whether or not Booth knows why he cares is the real question.

Booth shrugs. "Just curious."

"Sure you are," Angela chuckles, raising her camera to take more photos. The camera snaps and she lowers it once more. "Look, for what it's worth," she says turning to Booth, "let Brennan have this, okay? She hasn't seen anyone since before Guatemala."

"Did I say I was going to stop this? Bones can date as many professors she wants," Booth tells her.

"Okay, good. I like you, Booth, don't change that." Angela tells him, patting him condescendingly on the shoulder, before returning back to her camera and fridge.

Booth frowns, confused by what just happened. He looks back over at Brennan and Michael. "I just have a bad feeling about this guy," he murmurs after a moment.

Angela takes another photo, and sighs, watching as Booth leaves the evidence platform. "Of course you do, you idiot," she mutters to herself.

Chapter Text

Brennan sneezes, and she and Booth both freeze. And then she sneezes again, her head jerking forward.

"Bones, are you alright?" Booth asks concerned. 

"I'm fine," she waves it off, "it's just the air."

"You don't have a fever or feel headachy or anything?" he asks, feeling her forehead with the back of his hand.

She jerks away from him. "No, I really am fine, but if I was sick you probably shouldn't touch me." she chastises him.

"Right yeah, okay," he says, wiping his hand on the side of his pants.

Brennan frowns at him. "So why didn't you tell me?"

"About my son?" Booth asks.

"Yeah, I just..." she doesn't know what to say, and she's not even sure why she cares about the reason, but she does. For some reason she does. "I just feel like I should know that about you." 

Booth leans out over the railing, the empty lab laid out beneath them. "It's nothing to do with you, Bones," he says, and she moves to stand next to him, resting against the rail as well. "I would've told you, eventually, I wasn't trying to hide him."

"You told me about your gambling problem when we first met," Brennan points out, "but not your son, it seems... strange."

"This job we do, you and me together, part of the reason I do it is for him. To make this a safer world for him," Booth says, "but the world it makes us privy to, the awful things we see and hear... it's not a world I want him to be a part of. Does that make sense?" He turns back to look at Brennan, hoping she understands.

"I think so," she nods. "How old is he?" she asks next.

Booth smiles just thinking about him. "Four," he replies, "and he's got the cutest curly hair, Bones, and just the greatest smile."

She looks at him affectionately, noticing the way his eyes scrunch at the corners when he smiles. She wonders what physical features Booth's son inherited from him, whether she'd be able to tell their relation just be bone structure. She spends so much time looking at Booth's face these days she feels as if she has it memorised.

"Does he look like you?" she asks.

"A little, he looks more like Rebecca though, I think," 

"His mom?"

"Yeah," Booth's face darkens ever so slightly, though he tries to hide it.

"You two aren't...?" Brennan trails off, but the question is evident.

Booth pulls his poker chip out of his pocket, moving it between his fingers. "No, I asked her to marry me and she said 'no'."

"Did you want to marry her?" Brennan asks.

Booth looks at her curiously. "You know, I don't think you've ever asked me so many personal questions, Bones."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she asks, truly unsure.

He smiles at her. "It's a Christmas miracle, maybe."

Brennan shakes her head. "You must know I don't believe in those," she says to him.

He flips the poker chip and catches it, nudging her with his shoulder. "Oh, but I do, Bones. I do."

Chapter Text

Brennan watches the LA natives spread out below her, drinking, laughing, eating; all engaging in some pre-copulation rituals of some sort.

Booth says something beside her and she's pulled out of her concentration. "What?" she asks him - raising her voice above the music.

"I said, 'it's like you're studying them'," Booth repeats with a smile, also raising his voice. He nudges Brennan's arm with his own, playfully.

"Oh, I am," she says seriously, and Booth laughs.

She looks at him cluelessly. "I don't understand what's funny," 

"You just," he shakes his head, searching for the words, "you don't turn off do you?"

"I don't know what that means," Brennan says, just as serious as before.

"That big brain of yours, it's always on, always searching for something." Booth taps his own temples.

"Physically speaking my brain is no larger than the average person's, but I understand you're using metaphor to describe my intellect."

"Nothing gets pass you, Bones," Booth says affectionately.

"Isn't everyone always watching and always searching for something though?" she asks. 

"No, sometimes people are just enjoying the moment, Bones." Booth tells her.

"Sounds..." she searches for the word, "simple," is what she falls on.

Booth shakes his head, smiling at her. "Nice, Bones," he corrects her, "most people would say 'nice'."

She shrugs, turning away from him. "Well, I am not most people."

He looks at her, still smiling. The purple light paints her cheeks violet and her hair a twilight indigo. She's definitely right, she's not most people.

Chapter Text

She hates it when she's not allowed in on the action. Rationally, she understands why she's not allowed in, she's not trained in the field for such action even if , which makes her hatred at not being allowed in irrational. 

Still. She hates it.

She hates it more when she hears the gunshots start. They make her jump, and hear heart beat quickens as she listens to the rapid fire. It occurs to her for the first time to be worried for Booth. She knows he's well-trained and that he has been in plenty of situations like this before, but she also knows Booth well enough to know that there's a kid involved he isn't going to think twice about risking himself.

Bang, bang, bang.

Brennan looks around at the other people to study how she should react. Some people look stressed, but others show no reaction. She tries to mould her face to that same 'no-reaction' expression. 

She thinks about what Booth said in the car earlier, about what he would do if it were his wife and child. She decides she hopes she never has to see that.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The door to the gas station bursts open - Booth carrying the boy in his arms. Brennan feels her own heart leap in her chest. Even from the distant and dim light, she can tell by Booth's movements that he's most likely uninjured. 

She moves past the guards and hurries over to him. "Booth!" she calls out, and she sees him turn toward her. 

"You did it," she says as she reaches him, but her eyes fall on the bloody stump wrapped around Donovan's hand.

"Ambulance, Bones," is all Booth manages and needs to stay.

She directs him through the crowd, and helps peel Donovan - who doesn't seem to trust anyone else - out of his arms. 

"His dad?" Booth asks her, as the EMT's attend to Donovan's wound.

"On his way," Brennan says, as a car pulls up and Carl, Donovan's dad, leaps out. Brennan watches as father and son reunite, sobbing as they hold each other.

She can feel Booth's gaze on her but she doesn't meet it, as a strange, queasy feeling settles in her stomach. She's not sure if it's happiness, sadness, or envy - or maybe some awful combination of all three. But she keeps watching anyway.

Chapter Text

Brennan knew he would be here. He always is really, it's not hard to guess.

She slides into the stool at the bar beside him. Booth doesn't look up, his eyes on the drink in front of him.

Brennan doesn't say anything, just watching Booth watch his glass.

"Hi Bones," he says eventually, breaking the silent truce between them. But he still doesn't look up.

"I saw what you placed on the coffin," she says, referring to his Sharp Shooter badge.

Booth takes a drink before responding. "He was a brave kid," he says finally.

"He was dying," Brennan points out, "maybe he was reckless."

But Booth shakes his head and looks at her. "Nah, a kid like that? He was terrified, but he did it anyway. He did the right thing. You have to not care to be reckless." His voice is deep and hoarse, he looks away from Brennan and takes another drink.

Brennan doesn't say anything, accepting the drink Sid offers her and taking a sip.

"I wish I'd been more like him when I was younger," Booth says, once again not looking at Brennan but at his glass. "Brave," he clarifies, "not into all that..." he gestures with his hands to refer to the comic books and cosplay.

"You were a soldier, Booth," Brennan tells him. "You saved lives."

Booth shakes his head; downs his drink. "Not what I'm talking about." He stands up, pulling his coat on.

"What are you talking about?" Brennan asks him. "You're confusing me. You seem..." she searches for the word, "sad." she finally settles on, although it seems inadequate to describe the emotions emanating off Booth currently.

Booth shakes his head again. "It's been a sad case, Bones, but I'm okay. I'm gonna go. Maybe see Parker. It's that kinda day."

Brennan nods, she doesn't understand everything he's saying, but she can understand the urge for him to go see his son after attending the funeral of a boy.

"I'll see you at work," she says, lifting her glass to him as he leaves, and he waves to her before walking out the door.

She watches him go before taking another drink.

Chapter Text

Brennan and Angela walk up ahead along the main path through the cemetery. Booth walks slightly behind them, the adrenaline still in his veins from earlier. He doesn't regret it though; he's realised, when faced it with it, he wouldn't let anything happen to her.

"Hey, Bones," Booth says, "wait up a moment?"

Brennan and Angela exchange looks, but Angela merely shrugs and continues on, whilst Brennan falls back, waiting for him.

He catches up to her. "You know I was thinking about that book you were talking about earlier?"

"The one on work-place relationships?" she asks him.

He nods. "Yeah, that's the one. I don't think... I don't think we need it." he says.

He can see the crease of a frown in her brow, and the tighten of her stance as she crosses her arms. She's not one to believe in psychology, but he's become adept at understanding her body language over these last few weeks of working together.

"What do you mean, Booth?" she asks. "We fought a lot on this case."

"We didn't fight, we had disagreements," he argues.

She shakes her head. "I disagree, there were multiple moments where I--"

"Where you disagreed, I know." he says. "Disagreements aren't a big deal. In fact, they're good. If we can work them out, and we can, can't we?"

Brennan nods slowly. "Yes, usually one of us defers or we find a compromise." 

Booth sighs, this isn't going as well as he'd hoped. "What I was trying to say, Bones, is that you and me? We had kinda a rocky and unconventional start," he says, remembering their first case and its disastrous ending, "but I think we're doing alright now, in fact, I think we're doing good."

"Dong well," Brennan corrects. She can't help herself.

But Booth smiles, hands in his pockets. "Yeah, doing well."

Finally Brennan seems to realise that this conversation is a compliment. She smiles too. "Thanks, Booth."

"Hey," he says, beginning to walk again, "we're partners, after all."

She nods, still smiling and falling into step beside him. "Yeah, partners."

Chapter Text

Hodgins dashes from his Ookey room to Angela's office, quickly closing the door behind himself and closing the blinds before peeking through them.

"You know looking through the blinds kind of defeats the purpose of them," Angela says, watching from her desk; uncertain whether to be annoyed or amused yet.

"Okay, I think I'm good," Hodgins says to himself, before turning to face Angela.

"And hello to you too," she says to him sarcastically.

"Sorry, it's just Goodman. I know he knows we're up to something. Just somehow that brilliant stupid man hasn't worked out what yet."

"You did not just call our boss 'stupid'," Angela says, amused disbelief in our voice.

"Affectionately!" Hodgins clarifies. "All I mean, is that he knows we're up to something, and sure what we are up to would be his first guess." 

Angela shrugs. "Maybe he's just giving us the benefit of the doubt."

Hodgins' eyes widen as something appears to dawn on him. "Unless..." he says, dashing back to the blinds and peering through them, "unless he does know, and wants us to continue!"

Angela rolls her eyes and laughs. "Only you could bring Goodman into our little Jeffersonian conspiracy."

But Hodgins shakes his head. "I haven't done anything... he's been a part of it all along!"

Chapter Text

Brennan tries to insist she's okay to drive as she and Booth hobble out of the warehouse together. But she doesn't even have her own car with her, and a medical team has already been called to the scene. 

"Bones, c'mon, let's just go in the ambulance," Booth says - though everything he currently says is coming out in a pained groan.

"I can drive us, Booth," she says again. "I'm fine, see?" And to prove this she pats her head and rubs her belly at the same time.

His head hurts too much to even be amused at this very amusing site of her.

"I can drive you both!" Hodgins offers from behind, but at this point Booth just grabs Bones and pulls her towards the ambulance.

"No!" he says gruffly. "She needs the ambulance!"

"Booth, I'm-" she tries to protest but the EMTs descend on the pair of them, and they're loaded into the back of the vehicle.

Booth sits down in the ambulance as it starts to move, and closes his eyes with a relived sigh. "I'm never getting in that ridiculous toy car again," he murmurs, mostly to himself, but also to Bones so she realises what was at stake for this ambulance ride.

Bones doesn't reply, her thumb running over the place the rope had cut into her wrist.

Booth looks over at her, his eyes taking in the injuries to her face and wrists once more. He wonders if there's any other injuries he's unable to see. He's also sure she gave as good as got though.

"You alright, Bones?" he asks.

Her eyes hang on the empty space. "Yeah," she says quietly, and then her eyes move to his, holding firm. "Been through worse."

He gazes at her until she's the one who looks away with a blue-eyed teary blink. He's sure she has, but he doesn't want to think about it.

With an effort, he stands up, and he catches the dirty look thrown to him by the EMT sitting in the back them, but he doesn't care. He falls down into place next to Bones.

"Bones, hey," he says, nudging her despite the pain it causes him, and she turns to look at him; tears gone and eyes stony.

She knows an apology is coming and she shakes her head. "Booth, please. You're in much worse shape than me."

He looks down at his battered and bruised body. It's not the worst it's ever been. "This?" he says. "This is nothing?"

She manages a laugh, but he looks at her seriously again.

"I was meant to protect you."

"You did," she says. "Look at you, you did. I don't need an apology, Booth. Let's just get to the hospital, and then if you still need to rid yourself of your guilt, you can apologise then."

"You promise?" he asks.

She nods. "I promise."

He closes his eyes once more and leans back against the side of the ambulance. And that's how the ride the rest of the way there - side by side, shoulder to shoulder.

Chapter Text

"Look, if you really want to know what I've done, I'll tell you," he says firmly, "but you better be ready for the truth."

She looks away, slinking back into the passenger seat like a child who's been told off. 

"Good choice, Bones," Booth says, his voice low and surly. She doesn't look at him, instead her eyes looking out the window. It's not that she doesn't want to ask - in fact, she does want to ask, her need to know the truth is eating away at her - but she knows Booth well enough not to push when it comes to his history with the army.

They ride in silence the rest of the way. Brennan realises that this is the first car ride in a few weeks that has been predominantly silent. When they first started working together, almost all their car rides were silence, but now it's the opposite. 

When the car pulls up, Booth looks at her before turning the ignition off. "Thanks, Bones," he says, his voice still lower than usual.

She looks at him, confused. "For what?" she asks him.

"For not asking." he says, and his eyes hold her's for a brief moment before the ignition is off and the car door is open. She waits a beat and then follows suit.

Chapter Text

Booth decides, quite definitively, that he does not like the desert. And he definitely does not like potentially being abandoned to die in the desert by a potential murder suspect. There's a lot of potentials in that scenario, he's aware, but from where he's standing (which is miles from where Jesus lost his sandals), it's looking pretty damn likely.

Up ahead he can see Bones and Angela discussing something to do with the case.

Bones.

She was why he was here. She'd called him up. She'd asked him to go all federal on the sheriff's ass, and now, here he is. Wandering in the desert because he couldn't say no.

He really should learn to say no.

Bones turns, squinting her eyes as she waves over at Booth. In the heat she looks like a haze, and her features blend into the air like ripples in the water.

"Booth!" she calls out when he doesn't respond. "You're falling behind!"

"Where are we even going, Bones?" he calls back, still not moving from his spot.

He sees Angela and Bones exchange a look and some words that he's unable to hear but knows they're about him, both Bones walks over to him. 

"Booth, if we've been abandoned then we need to find shelter before sundown." Bones says matter-of-factly. 

Booth looks around exaggeratingly at the flat horizon. "I think you're flat out of luck, Bones," he says and then laughs at his own joke. "Flat, get it?"

Brennan rolls her eyes. "We need to keep going," she says, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt.

"Why'd you call me?" he asks suddenly, looking at her curiously.

She stares back at him, non-plussed. "Because I needed your help."

"No, you wanted FBI interference. " he corrects her.

"Right, and you're my FBI agent," Bones says, not understanding the point of this conversation.

Booth smiles at that. "Your FBI agent?"

Bones rolls her eyes. "Whatever, you're my partner, you work at the FBI. We needed FBI help. Who else am I going to call?"

"You really know how to make a man feel special, Bones," Booth jokes. 

Brennan takes the water bottle out of his hand and unscrews the lid, passing it back to him. "Have a drink, Booth."

"Why?' he says, objectively ignoring the fact that he's thirsty.

"You're dehydrated. You're talking nonsense."

Booth takes the water and has a sip, before starting to walk again; Bones falls into step beside him.

"You're always talking nonsense, Bones." he tells her, passing the water back.

Chapter Text

Booth shakes his head, chuckling quietly to himself as Branson and his lawyer quickly vacate his office.

Brennan turns to look at him, folding her arms and frowning. "What?" she asked. She had the feeling he was laughing at her.

"Nothing," Booth says, still half-laughing. "I just-" he gestures to his opened office door. "You just really like hitting people, huh?"

"It was an effective method of uncovering his story," Brennan replies.

"Sure it was," Booth says, "but there were also plenty of others."

"It was quick and effective. I don't see the problem." she argues.

"He could have sued you," Booth points out.

"Yes, but like most men he doesn't want to admit that he was injured by a woman. In this case misogyny protects me. Men care about how they are viewed by society, they don't want to diminish that just for vengeance."

Booth holds his hands up in defence. "Whatever you say, Bones. Just mark my words, one day it's gonna come back to bite you in the ass."

"I'm not going to let a man bite my ass, Booth." Brennan deadpans.

"It's a saying, Bones. Honestly, at this rate you need a phrasebook."

Chapter Text

Angela's eyes scour the Arrivals board. It is thankfully working this time, which means she doesn't have to beg and flash someone for any updates again.

Ah, there, she sees New Orleans on the board. Landed twenty minutes ago. Perfect, they should be out any minute now.

And there they are, Booth and Brennan, walking step-in-step beside each other. Even the two of them walking together just looks right, she thinks. But even from the distance she can see a hint at the injuries of Brennan's face - she really wasn't kidding about the whole amnesia thing, huh?

Angela runs towards her best friend and wraps her into a tackle of a hug.

"Ange!" Brennan half-laughs and half-gasps, patting her enthusiastic friend on the back. "Thanks for meeting us."

"Your face, Brennan!" Angela exclaims, reliving Brennan of the tackle-hug, but still keeping a firm grip on her by the shoulders as she examines Brennan's face. "And your ear!" she adds aghast, spotting the bandage where an earring should be.

"It's fine, really, Ange," Brennan insists, and she shoots Booth a look as if to say 'what an over-reaction?' but Booth just stands by, mildly amused by the whole interaction.

But then Angela turns on him. "How could you let this happen to her?" 

"Hey, whoa!" Booth puts his hands up in self-defence. "This-" he gestures comically at Brennan's face while she rolls her eyes "-all happened when I wasn't there, okay? She'd be in jail for murder right now if it wasn't for me."

The eye-rolling stops, and Brennan nods. "It's true, Ange."

"Oh my god," Angela looks between the pair of them and then back at Brennan. "You really need to learn how to take a proper vacation, sweetie."

"Thank you!" Booth says loudly, gesturing at Angela. "That's what I've been saying."

Brennan shakes her head, walking ahead of the pair of them, who follow along behind. 

"So out of curiosity," Angela says, "the two of you were only there professionally?"

Brennan turns to look back at her frowning. "Yes, of course. What else would we be doing?"

"Oh, nothing," Angela says; the sarcasm lost on Brennan. Angela tries to catch Booth's eye, but he's conveniently fixated on his cellphone and pretends not to have heard her.

She sighs with exasperation, shaking her head. "Let's get both of you back to the lab than, shall we?"

Chapter Text

Brennan watches the teenage girl walk away, a strange feeling of helplessness in her chest. She wants to comfort the girl, but she's not sure how. It truly is thanks to Amy that all these people are being checked out and treated before its too late, but that doesn't seem to have comforted her at all.

"Hey, Bones. Bones?" Booth walks up to her, repeating her name when she doesn't respond the first time.

"Hmm, yeah?" she asks, looking up at him.

He frowns. "You okay?" he asks, touching her briefly on her arm.

She glances down at the spot where he touched her. She wonders when he began to read her so easily. She wonders if he was always able to do that.

"Yeah. It's just... Amy." She looks up at Booth and sighs. "I really do much prefer working with skeletons over people," she says, "they're much less..." she searches for the word. 

"Emotional," she says at the same time Booth says: "Alive."

Brennan half-laughs and Booth smiles at her sadly. "She's a teenage girl, Bones."

"Is that your way of saying all adolescent females are overly emotional?" she asks him.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head at her switch up from emotion to logic. "You know what? Yes, yes that is my way of saying that." he says, taking her by the arm. "Now come on, we've got to get back to the lab."

Chapter Text

Brennan hurries out after Booth as he strides out of Angela's office and through the lab.

"Booth!" she calls out. "Booth!" She grabs him by the arm and he turns around at her touch. She lets go quickly, like she's been electrocuted. She remembers what Angela had said about a comforting touch. Brennan doesn't think that was what she meant.

"Bones," he says, looking at her and waiting for her to talk. His face is steely and his jaw is set; it's that hard look he gets when he doesn't want to talk.

"Let me come with you," she says softly.

"Bones-"

"I'm your partner, Booth." 

He seems to soften at those words, and she looks at him pleadingly. It feels strange to be the one asking to be let in emotionally. She's not usually on that side of things.

"I- I appreciate that, Bones. But this arrest, this is just one I have to do alone, okay?"

She steps back slightly, crossing her arms and nodding. "Okay," she murmurs.

"I'll see you later though," he says, his voice firm and reassuring.

She nods, her eyes holding his. "Yeah, you will."

And then he nods once and walks away, and Brennan watches him go until he's out the door and has disappeared around the corner.

She unfolds her arms and they hang limp at her side. Sometimes she hates being left at the lab.

Chapter Text

Brennan storms off, and both Booth and Russ watch her go. Booth takes one look at Russ. "Don't move," he says harshly, before running after Brennan.

"Hey! Hey, Bones!" he calls out, jogging after her. She's standing behind a car trying not to cry. He watches as she kicks at one of the tyres.

"Temperance," he says softly, reaching out to touch her, but she jerks away.

"Don't call me that!" she spits harshly, her eyes alight with a wild fury. "Bones, Bones! You call me 'Bones'! It's a stupid, stupid nickname, but it's what you call me."

Booth gulps and takes a step back. "Right, sorry, Bones, of course." he says.

The fury in her eyes dwindles and tears take its place. She shakes her head and sniffs, refusing to let the tears fall.

"I'm sorry, Bones," Booth says, being sure to keep his voice steady for her. "Finding all this out... I can't imagine."

She laughs hollowly. "No, you can't. My whole life... he lied to me my whole life. All this time... how could he not say anything?" She looks defeated, her skin pale and her eyes glassy. Booth wants to hug her; to comfort her and make all the bad things go away. But he knows that's not how it works.

He also decides not to point out that Russ was a child who had made a promise to his parents. The time will come time defend Russ, but now is not that time. Booth doesn't want to give Bones a reason to slap him as well.

"It doesn't change who you are," Booth tells her gently; even though he's not sure if that's true.

Brennan looks at him like she doesn't believe him. Maybe he wasn't convincing enough.

"At least, not to me," he adds, "if that matters."

She doesn't reply, looking away from him and wiping her eyes. She swallows, not looking at him. "Can we go back to the lab now?" she asks, already walking away before he has the chance to reply.

He follows behind, his step in stride with hers. "Whatever you need, Bones," he says.

Chapter Text

"Sweetie!" Angela enters Brennan's office and wraps her in a hug.

"Ange," Brennan says, hugging her best friend back.

"It's so good to see you." Angela says, smiling and taking her in, as they both move onto Brennan's couch. "So how was it with Russ? Did you guys get along?"

"It was a little strange," Brennan posits. "Last time we both really knew each other we were teenagers, and now we're adults. It's all just so different. He's so different. He knew about me, about my life though. He had my books. He'd been following my whole career. And I knew nothing about him." Brennan sighs and Angela smiles at her sadly. "But it was good. We both really want to find Dad. Max." She tries out the new name. She's still not used to it.

"Good, I'm really glad for you, sweetie." Angela says.

"What about you? What about here?" Brennan asks, and as if summoned, Cam walks past Brennan's office. Angela and Brennan watch her go before turning back to each other.

Angela raises her eyebrows. "Well, yeah, that happened."

"I still don't understand why we need a Head of forensics." Brennan says, frowning slightly. "We were doing just fine under Goodman."

Angela shrugs. "You and Booth being partners means that we're involved in more crime than ever. Goodman said the Jeffersonian wanted someone with actual law enforcement experience."

"Well, I have law enforcement experience." Brennan protests. "Now." she adds.

Angela leans in and speaks quieter, as if scared Cam can hear them. "How was she? At the scene?"

"She appears to be competent as a pathologist, although she wanted to scrape the victim down at the scene instead of here." Brennan replies matter-of-factly. 

"Yeah, yeah, I don't care about all that. I meant how was she with Booth?"

"With Booth?"

"Yes, with you and Booth?" Angela asks eagerly.

"She called him 'Seeley' and he called her 'Camille'."

Angela leans back, shaking her head. "I knew it." she exclaims.

"Knew what?" Brennan asks, confused.

"Booth would pop by every now and then while you were away, but then as soon as Goodman left and Cam stepped in, whoosh, he vanished, and yet Cam kept asking after him."

"I still don't understand." 

"They used to sleep together, sweetie." Angela says, spelling it out for her.

"Oh." is all Brennan can manage as a reply.

"Yeah!" Angela says loudly, nodding her head. "But don't worry, sweetie," she adds, reaching out to Brennan, "Booth is still your partner."

Brennan frowns. "I know. Why would I worry?"

Angela sighs and retracts her hand. "Oh, no reason," she says; Brennan missing the fact that there very much is a reason.

Chapter Text

Brennan sits in in the FBI office, waiting for Booth to return. She doesn't have much interest in see Carlie again, but she wants to be there to return Robbie to his rightful parent.

Rightful parent. Even in her mind the phrase seems wrong. Carlie was a murderer and kidnapper, but this child's father also didn't seem up to the task of raising a child either.

"Bones?"

Brennan looks up. Booth is there, watching her. He walks over and sits down beside.

"You were thinking," he says to her.

"I'm always thinking, Booth." she tells him.

"Yeah, but you get this look on your face; a little frown right here -" he touches the space between her eyebrows "- when you're really thinking."

"She loved that baby. And it wasn't even hers," Brennan says.

"You don't think Robbie should be returned to his father?" Booth asks.

"A father who was suspected of murder, who cheated on his wife, abused his wife? I don't think that person sounds like a good father. Do you?"

"He has to be." Booth replies. "Or at least, he has to try. He has to be given the opportunity to try. Carlie had no history of violence, and yet, here we are."

Brennan nods. He's right about that. 

"This might be what he needs." Booth continues. "He might be a good father."

Brennan looks at him, her eyes searching his face. "You really believe that?" she asks.

"I hope that," Booth replies.

Chapter Text

"Just as I was starting to like!" Angela exclaims, disgusted.

"Ange, we have a job to do." Brennan says. "She's letting us do it, so we might as well actually do it."

"You need to talk to Booth," Angela says, continuing on her tirade.

"About the case?"

"No, about Cam!"

"About her firing me? Booth isn't Cam's boss, he can't stop her." Brennan points out logically.

"Cam likes Booth, sweetie. She knows him, she respects him. She'll listen to him."

Brennan shakes her head. "I'm not asking Booth to fight my battles for me, Ange."

Angela smiles, shaking her head. "What good is an FBI agent at your disposal if you don't ask him to fight your battles for you?" 

But Brennan isn't listening, pulling her gloves on with a snap. "C'mon, Ange, let's do our jobs while we still have them."

Chapter Text

Brennan is silent on the way home. She drives as Booth nurses his wrist, and her eyes remain locked on the road. 

Booth is trying to keep his mind off the pain, and usually he'd try to engage Brennan in some sort of conversation to do that, but he can tell she's not in the talking mood.

She drops him off at the hospital. "If you're okay, I might head back to the lab. Make Cam and Zack are across all the evidence." she says.

"Sure, Bones," Booth replies. "I'll swing by later. Get the keys."

She nods. "Okay, see you later."

She steps back into the car and goes to close the door, but Booth catches it with his good hand. "Bones, he says and she looks up. "You did the right thing."

She looks at him, face unreadable. "I know," she says eventually, pulling the car door shut.

He watches her drive off before hobbling into the E.R.

---

His injuries are minor and his wrist is just a hairline fracture. Booth lets them fix him up, barely listening to the doctor's care instructions before getting out of there. 

He stands out in the cool night air. He has one stop to make before the Jeffersonian. He needs to find Bones a pig. 

Not a real one of course, but a pig all the same. One that could be hers. Something to make her smiles after this hellish day of theirs.

The only problem is that he has no idea where to find a pig all the same.

He opens his phone and dials the number. He listens to the rings, hoping she'll pick up.

She does.

"Seeley?" comes Rebecca's voice from the other end.

"Bec," he says with a smile, "I, uh, need a hand with something. Do you know where I could find a pig?"

"A pig?"

"Yeah, like a figurine."

"Is this for Parker?"

"No, uh, it's for Bones."

He knows her well enough to know there's a smile on the other end of the line. An annoying, knowing smile that really doesn't know anything.

"For Dr Brennan?" Rebecca's voice lifts, and Booth can hear the smile now.

"Look, it's a long story, we had... we had a bad day at work. This'll make her feel better." he tries to explain.

There's a pause from the other end of the phone, as if Rebecca is uncertain whether to reply or not. But then she does. "Sure, I think I know a place. I'll text you the address."

"Thanks, Bec. I'll see you soon. Tell Parker I love him."

"Bye Seeley."

The beeping tone fills his ear and he waits for the address to come through; it does, a moment later. He hails a cab and passes on the directions.

---

The bell above the door jingles as he enters. The shop is lined from wall to wall with figurines of all sorts - animals, people, plants, objects, you name it. Booth's head is starting to ache. It's been a long day.

"Can I help you?" A kindly old woman sits behind the desk.

"Yeah, I, uh, I need a pig." Booth thinks it's one of the silliest phrases he's ever said, and that's including the conversations he's had with Parker.

"A pig? Well why didn't you say so!" says the woman as if it was the most normal thing in the world. She shuffles over to a cabinet filled with tiny farm animals. One row is entirely devoted to pigs. Pigs lying down, pigs standing up, pigs with a trough, pigs covered in mud, piglets lying together. 

Booth's head is really starting to hurt now.

Jasper, he thinks. Which one looks like a Jasper?

And then he spots a pig towards the back, a small hand-painted smile on its face. "That one," he says, pointing at it.

The woman smiles, unlocking the cabinet and pulling Jasper out. She hands him to Booth. "For anyone special?" she asks.

He shifts unevenly on his feet and feels a flush on his cheeks that isn't associated with his growing headache. "Sort of," is the answer he manages.

"Well, they're very lucky. People underestimate pigs. They're actually very clean and intelligent, you know?"

Booth smiles, thinking of Bones. "Yeah," he says, "yeah, I do."

Chapter Text

Cam's gloves come off with a snap as she moves away from the body. "Are you able to call Booth?" she asks Dr. Brennan. "Let him know our findings."

Brennan nods, taking her own gloves off. "Yes, hopefully he's the one who picks up this time," she says, pulling out her phone.

Cam turns and frowns, looking at Dr. Brennan. "What do you mean?"

Brennan hesitates, holding her phone in mid-air. Her brain whirs - this is a pivotal bonding moment. Gossip, while trivial, is what binds many sub-groups together such as work place colleagues. Cam also knows Booth personally, and ergo this piece of information regarding him and Rebecca would also be of personal interest to her. Booth may object to the idea of sharing this information, but it is also entirely possible Cam is already aware.

"Dr. Brennan?" Cam says, analysing the frozen woman in front of her.

As if glitched, Brennan returns to life. "His ex," she says simply.

"What?" Cam asks, not following Brennan's train of thought.

"Rebecca. She's the one who picked up his phone. She was out of breath and when I saw Booth at the scene he seemed embarrassed, and Booth has often shied away from frank discussions of sex and relationships during our partnership, and so while I don't have all the evidence, I can assume that they are back together in some capacity. Or at least having sex."

Cam stares at her, and Brennan blinks, waiting for a response.

"Rebecca?" Cam finally says. "Parker's mom?"

"Yes, she's the only ex-girlfriend of Booth's I've ever met." Brennan quips. "Apart from you." she then adds for good measure.

Cam lets out a huff of exasperated laughter. "I'll ignore that last part," she says, "but the rest is, uh, interesting."

Brennan smiles. Interesting is definitely a positive response to her anecdote. She wishes Angela were here to see her successful bonding and socialisation.

"I'll give him a call," Brennan then says. "About the victim. Not about Rebecca." she clarifies.

Cam nods, a tight-lipped smile on her face. "Yes, I think that would be best," she muses.

Chapter Text

Hodgins, Angela, and Zack are all gathered on the evidence platform as Cam assigns them their final tasks to wrap at the case. Or at least attempts to assign them.

Zack stands between the other two, taking in every word Dr. Saroyan is saying while Angela and Hodgins do their best to stifle their giggles and avoid eye contact.

"I'm sorry, is something funny?" Cam asks the pair of them, hands on her hips.

Zack, clueless as ever, blinks. "No, nothing is funny Dr. Saroyan."

Hodgins is unable to contain it, and bursts into a fit of high-pitched giggles.

Zack frowns, looking down at his colleague. "Although Dr. Hodgins may beg to differ."

Angela however has managed to recompose herself, and smiles at Cam. "Sorry, Hodgins tends to get like this sometimes. Low blood sugar, you know," she says, taking some of the paperwork out of Cam's hands. "Would you like me to send these to Booth?"

"Yes, just tell him to contact me if he has any questions," Cam says, her tone still bewildered as her eyes move between Angela and Hodgins.

Angela nudges Hodgins, enough to make him almost trip, and he stands up, his face red. "We shall be sure to do that, Dr. Saroyan." he says, his tone so neutral its almost robotic.

Cam watches as the pair of them depart the evidence platform, both making an obvious effort not to so much as look at one another.

"I feel like something is going on that everybody knows about and I don't," Zack says slowly, looking from the pair to Dr. Saroyan.

Cam gives him a tight-lipped smile and pats him on the arm. "And if I have my way, you won't know." she says, walking away before a confused Zack can ask any further questions.

Chapter Text

Brennan is so deep into work mode as she enters her office and beelines for her desk, that she doesn't see Angela lying on her couch.

"Hey sweetie," comes her sad voice, and Brennan practically jumps out of skin.

"Angela!" Brennan looks between the office door and couch, trying to work out how and when Angela appeared. "What are you doing here?"

Angela sits up. "Do you have a moment?"

Brennan feels like a magnet being pulled towards her desk. The truth is no, she doesn't have a moment, and she hates not being able to do what she was planning, but she sees Angela's glum face and her heart aches for her.

Brennan moves to her couch and sits down beside her best friend. "What's wrong, Ange?"

"I had my date with Hodgins last night," Angela tells her.

"Oh, did it go badly?" Brennan asks, concerned.

Angela shakes her head. "No, worse."

Brennan frowns. She's not sure how the scenario could be worse.

Angela, understanding the look on her face, clarifies. "It went well. I had an amazing time. He was so sweet and thoughtful, and a surprisingly good kisser." she says sadly.

"What you're saying is a positive outcome of the date, but your tone implies something else entirely," Brennan says.

"It was meant to be awkward, remember? It was meant to prove to us that it's just not meant to be," Angela explains, and Brennan nods, now understanding.

"But instead it showed potential?" Brennan suggests cautiously.

Angela nods glumly. "Exactly, and now I have to tell him it can't happen again."

"Do you though, Ange?" Brennan asks gently, reaching out to her best friend.

"I do, Bren. I can't..." she trails off, looking at her best friend, and trying to find the words. "I love working here with you, and Hodgins loves working here too. I can date anyone. I don't want to be in a relationship that could end all that. You said it yourself that anthropologically it's not a good idea."

"You don't usually listen to my anthropological reasons to do things," Brennan points out, and Angela laughs sadly.

"This time I am though," she says sadly, squeezing Brennan's hand. Brennan nods, squeezing gently back.

Chapter Text

She empties the ice into a bag and wraps it in a tea towel before passing it to Booth, who sits on the edge of the bed in the hotel room. He holds the ice against the side of his head, wincing as he does so.

"How do you feel?" she asks, wiping at the blood on the other side of his face. She's close, close enough for him to feel her warm breath on his cheek. He hates to admit that he's enjoyed the privilege of closeness that being undercover has allowed them the past few days. He hates to admit that he'll miss it when they return.

"You know those cartoons, where a giant anvil is dropped on a tiny animal and yet they somehow survive?" Booth asks her; miming something falling with one of his hands.

Brennan frowns; it's clear she doesn't know.

Booth smiles at her puzzled expression, and then winces at the pain it causes him. "You didn't watch cartoons when you were younger?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

"Well, that's how I feel," he says to clarify for her.

"I understand the use of a hyperbolic visual indicator to describe your pain," she says and Booth lets out a pained huff of laughter.

"And here I was thinking you wouldn't get it," he murmurs.

Brennan removes the ice and swaps it to the other side, so she can clean his other wounds; she bends his head as she does so and he winces again. "Just watch it, Bones," he says through gritted teeth.

"Sorry, Booth, I just don't want you to get any infections."

"Infections?" Booth asks, worried.

"Yes, when do you think was the last time that man washed his hands? I can't imagine he cares very deeply about personal hygiene." Brennan tells him, as she wipes it down with an alcohol swab.

"Good thing I have you to clean me up then, hey Bones?" he smiles up at her, that cheeky, big grin of his, and she smiles back.

"I did also, kind of volunteer you for this," she says, sitting down next to him. "I'm sorry about that."

Booth shrugs, smiling at her. "Eh, I'll put that on Roxie," he says, and she nudges him playfully in return. "Ow, no, too soon!" he says, clutching his side, and she quickly jumps up, apologising profusely through her laughter.

But he's laughing too, despite the pain in his side and the bruising that stretches up his ribcage. "You need to make sure you like after yourself the next few days," Brennan says to him. "If there's someone to chase, better let me do it."

"Uh-uh, no way, Bones, I'm the chaser and your the-" he pauses, searching for a word to best describe her. BUt he fails and falters. "You're the person who comes with me."

She raises her eyebrows, unimpressed.

"The smart person." he adds for good measure.

She smiles at this at the same time his phone begins to ring. He reaches across for it and is brought out of the moment between the two of them by the caller. "It's Cam," he says, not answering straight away. "Calling about the case." he adds.

Brennan nods; this, to her, is obvious. "Why else would she be calling?"

Booth shakes his head. "No reason." He flips his phone open to answer it. "Booth," he says into the receiver, and Brennan who is busying herself with the packing, misses the guilt on his face as he watches her.

Chapter Text

Brennan insists that she's fine and that she doesn't need to go to hospital but Booth practically drags her, insisting that it's not every day you get buried alive and when she protests he tells he that if he is ever buried alive, it can be her turn to drag him to the hospital.

Hodgins is taken via ambulance due to his leg, and Angela rides along with him. Brennan watches the two of them go, smiling at their joined hands. This is a good thing, she thinks, for both of them. After everything Angela went through last year, and now that Hodgins seems to have finally grown up.

Booth drives Brennan, asking if she's okay every few minutes.

"I'm fine, Booth," she insists, "and the doctors will tell you the same thing."

"You're the smartest person I've ever met," he tells her, "but you're not a medical doctor, Bones. I'll let the MDs tell me that."

She has to smile at the 'smartest person' comment, it's not often he dishes out compliments so easily. And as she smiles, she's very aware of the note in her pocket. The metaphor of 'burning a hole in her pocket' seems apt here. She can feel his eyes on her and she glances up; he quickly looks away, eyes on the road.

When they get the hospital Booth flashes his badge and gets her seen straight away. Again, she protests, insisting that she's fine, and he insists that the sooner she's seen the sooner they can confirm that, and she can't argue with that logic.

She lets the doctors check her pupils, her heart, and her lungs. Booth paces in the corner and Brennan's mind is once again on the note in her pocket. The doctor is concerned about the oxygen deprivation she's experienced and potentially slipping into shock later on. Booth seems relieved by the fact that something may be wrong with her, thanks the doctor, and begins to go on a rant about why she should listen to him. But Brennan just smiles and watches, focusing on breathing the air that she's always taken for granted and listening to the sound of Booth's voice. An hour ago she was about to die, either from lack of oxygen or from an explosion, and now she's here, in a hospital examination room with Booth.

She thinks about what Hodgins said, about having faith, but Booth is here, and he's real, and faith is about belief without proof.

And Booth, right here, he is her proof.

The doctor says that she just needs to be monitored for the next few hours, and to contact them if any symptoms of shock or concussion arise in the next day or so. Booth promises not to let her out of his sight, and Brennan rolls her eyes at this; she's not sure the doctor understands how literal Booth is being right now.

"I'll drive you home, Bones," Booth says to her, "get you some Wong-Foo's for dinner. We can make a night of it."

"You're not staying over, Booth," she says, getting into the car as he opens the door.

"I know, I know," he says, running around to the passenger's seat. "I'll just stay long enough to make sure you're not going to slip into a coma or something."

She laughs. "I'm not sure you know how the human body works," she says.

"Hey, I've got the best teacher in the world," he replies, smiling at her and nudging her with his elbow.

She smiles and then looks away, thinking of the note in her pocket. There would be a better time to give it to him. One day, maybe. She wonders if Hodgins has given Angela his note or if they've said all that needs to be said to one another.

"I've just got to make one stop first, Bones," Booth says to her.

She nods. "Sure, where?"

"Church."

"Church?"

"I've got a few words I need to say to the big man. You can wait in the car if you want."

"I'm not a dog," she argues, "I'm not waiting in the car."

"Okay, fine, you can come in, but no blasphemous comments, okay? And definitely do not use the phrase 'Jesus Myth'." Booth says firmly.

"It's an accurate descriptor!" she protests and they bicker all the way there, relishing each word exchanged with the other.