Corny title, I know, but I couldn't resist!

I hadn't planned for my next fic to be so soon but this came tumbling out when I woke up this morning! A few of my favourite things: Bones, archaeology, and tents (maybe, chapter2). There's a little of Book-Brennan in here, as well as TV-Brennan, but it should follow smoothly.

Second half coming soon!

Oh, and I don't own Bones.

I Dig You

He wasn't sure why he was there. He knew he shouldn't be, but deep inside he felt he had to be. He'd cease to exist if her didn't see her. They'd never been apart this long since the day they'd met.

It was summer, and Brennan had taken some much-needed time off from the Jeffersonian in order to return to her first love – archaeology. She'd assured him that while she enjoyed working with Booth every day and found it 'quite satisfying'; she'd been longing to get back to her roots. To find herself surrounded by dirt (sorry, Hodgins) and throw herself, if only briefly, back into the world of archaeology – where death didn't necessarily mean murder, and there was lots more beside.

Cam had informed her over and over that the Jeffersonian would continue to function and practically helped her book the flights, if it meant Brennan would finally take some time off work.

She hadn't gone to Guatemala this time, or flown to the distance corners of Addis Ababa (where the girls still believed Russ was). Instead she'd opted for a tiny training excavation in the South of England. Just a few miles from the sea, Booth had never heard of the place she was headed, even after she'd spent days babbling about it. More techno speak than ever before had crossed her lips, and Booth knew she was beside herself with excitement.

But that was 8 weeks ago, and if he didn't get to see her smile or smell her familiar scent on a breeze soon her was going to go crazy.

So here he was. Standing behind the plastic tape for the first time in years, Booth watched from a distance. She was unaware of his presence – her head down, focusing on something hidden within the ground. A group of students milled around her and she was clearly giving them instructions.

Engrossed in her work, this was a level of focus Booth had never seen from Bones before. Her features twisted in concentration, a smile breaking through, the likes of which he'd never seen her do at any crime scene.

She was squatting low over the dark earth, her feet in sturdy boots, little white socks poking from the top. His eyes travelled along her legs, seeming to go on for miles. All too often at crime scenes every last inch of her was covered in a forensic suit, but here she'd seemed to have gone to the opposite extreme. Brennan wore short, loose shorts, brown and faded as if from years in the sun. They were perfectly descent and professional, and yet, sitting atop her shapely legs, he couldn't help but get slightly flustered. The English summer had clearly been good to her so far, her legs a delicate golden colour.

His gaze shifted higher. She wore a simple white tank top, spattered with dirt. Her shoulders had begun to turn pink from exposure. Booth knew this was another sign of her eagerness to return to archaeology – forensic anthropologist Brennan would never have been so lax about skincare in the sun, and she'd warned him on multiple occasions over the past few years over the importance of protection from the elements. But here, in her element, Booth knew she'd been just too consumed by the work to care. The very thought bought a smile to his face.

Back in the trench, Brennan shifted her stance slightly and knelt in lower. Excitement seemed to radiate from her as her steady hand lifted something dark from the earth. To Booth it just looked like a pot, but he was sure she'd have a far more technical description spilling out of her. She pointed to areas of it with her pinkie, the students around her hanging on her every word. Not that the blamed them. If Booth had had teachers like her when he was in school, maybe he'd have paid attention too.

Brennan placed the pot delicately in a plastic tray, said a final few words to the students around her, and rose from the ground. Deftly she moved across the site, exchanging words with a couple other people as she went. Treading carefully along a wooden beam at the end of the trench, she turned away from him and moved towards a temporary cabin that had been erected at one end of the trench. Booth felt his breath taken away at the sight of her ass, seemingly poured into the little brown shorts, specks of mud dotted up her calves and a trowel hung from her belt loop. Her thick brown hair was drawn back in lose ponytail, stray stands plastered to her neck in the heat.

Stepping into the cabin, she moved out of sight. He was overwhelmed by the urge to run and greet her, instead opting for the more casual approach. He ducked under the plastic 'caution' tape and moved slowly around the edge of the trench.

"Sir! Sir" The voice barley broke through his subconscious, but the feel of fingers grasping his bicep flung him back to reality. "This is a private excavation, Sir." He turned and Booth found himself looking straight over the head of a young student. No more than 20 and lacking at least 8 inches on booth, he gave the boy 10/10 for balls.

"It's alright, kid. I'm here to see Dr Brennan."

The boy released his arm and alarm spread to his eyes. "Agent Booth?" He ventured in a wobbly tone.

Booth smiled and pulled out his FBI ID. It held no power on British soil, but at least it might stop the kid from pushing him down a well.

"Sorry, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir." The boy flustered. "I didn't know. Please. Please don't tell Dr Brennan. Don't get her mad at me again." He spoke with a thick English accent, drenched in fear. Booth didn't know what the boy could have done to be so afraid by her wrath but, offering up a teasing smile, he decided to have a little fun with the boy.

"You know, I could arrest you right now for obstructing an FBI investigation." The boy went pale. "Or for assault on a federal agent." He seemed to visibly shrink in front of Booth. "But this is your first offence, right?" the boy nodded furiously, "and I'm going to let you off with a warning. This time." Booth poked at the boy with his badge before walking away chuckling. He loved messing with squints, and who know English squints could be even more fun to poke at than the ones he'd left at home.

Silently, Booth hovered by the door to the cabin he'd seen Bones enter. He vow to beat the lad to a pulp if she'd slipped his gaze while he was preoccupied, but her voice wafted out to greet him.

"See here, the pronounced lipping of the vessel dates it to the late Bronze Age, but the stylistic design of the decoration is much earlier, and the stratigraphic context of the find diverges again. Either this beaker represents a new phase in burial wear, or there's something sinister going on. I don't believe this vessel belongs in that cemetery." She pointed out towards the trench. "I'm hoping your analysis of the cremains will clear the conflicting data." She barely allowed the tech to get a word in; he simply nodded as she spoke. "I'll be back later."

She turned to leave and Booth suddenly didn't know whether to make himself known or hide a while longer. He hadn't seen this side of her before and was secretly enjoying seeing her boss someone around that wasn't him, for a change.

The decision was made for him.

"Booth!?" There was more than a hint of anger beneath her surprise. "What the hell are you doing here?" He couldn't speak. She'd caught him off guard and all the carefully planned, logical, explanations he'd spent the flight devising were gone. "Do we have a case?" She'd never seemed so disappointed to see him, and it cut him to the quick.

"No … er … no case. I just … thought … I'd stop by ... to see you ..."

"Stop by!? Booth! You've come 3000miles to …" She stopped mid-rant. It hit her what he'd done. "You flew 3000 miles to see me?" All trace of anger was gone from her voice. She leaned in close to him, her hand came to rest on his chest, she felt his heart pounding. She breathed deep. "Tell me why."

She knew the answer. Somewhere deep down inside she knew the answer, but she needed to hear it aloud.

"I … I miss you, Bones." All the usual confidence and sureness was gone from his voice, it was barely more than a whisper. She flung her arms around him, pulling him in tight. Breathing in his scent deeply, she finally allowed her own truth to surface within her. She'd missed him too, and it had scared her.

It hasn't mattered that she was doing what she loved, there had been something missing all these weeks. She'd been moody for no apparent reason, snapping at students unnecessarily, bringing one even to tears, and alienating herself from the rest of the dig team. They all knew why, it was clear from the adoring way she'd spoken of him, but now Bones realised it too.

She placed her lips gently against his cheek.

"Thank you. Booth"

Her touch made his skin tingle and the sound of her voice, so humble and pure, sent shockwaves through him.

He held her in his arms as the minutes passed by. Eight weeks they'd been apart and a little of him had died every morning he woke up and had to go to work without her, knowing she wouldn't be a part of his day. Of course, she'd tell him that was ridiculous, and scientifically impossible, but that's why he loved her.

And he did. He always had. Quite when it started he couldn't figure out, but he knew he was sure as hell never letting her leave his side again.

Booth became aware of their surroundings, realising that they had been stood locked in a tight embrace, for several minutes now. Her head on his chest, he glanced across the excavation to see several supervisors smiling smugly back at him. The students she had been working with just before quickly tried to look busy as Booths gaze shifted to them – he knew they had been starring.

Breaking away from her, Booth grabbed her by the hand and led her behind the finds cabin, before she had a chance to object. He knew she'd put up a fight, she'd say there was work that needed doing, students that needed teaching, but he didn't care. He needed her too, damn it.

Pinning her against the back of the cabin, he planted a hand either side of her shoulder. His face was just inches from hers, but neither dared move. He drank in her scent – a sweetness mixed with dirt, sweat, and sun lotion. A potent cocktail, he fought to keep himself sane.

Frozen through a combination of fear and lust, Booth couldn't move. He breathed heavily, his pulse quickening with every passing second.

"Bones I…" he tried to speak, not sure what he wanted to say, but needing to hear his own voice, to break the air, to clear his mind, and bring him back to his senses.

The words had barely left his lips before her mouth collided into his. Their lips met eagerly and they kissed deeply. He pushed her head back against the wall, relishing her taste after all these years.

Her hands found their way up the inside of his shirt, frantically dragging her nails across the contours of his back.

"Booooth." She let out a moan as her caressed her breast, his leg slipping between hers to rub against her centre. She could feel him hard, pushing against her leg, and moved her hands to his ass, cupping him, pulling him in closer to her.

He nibbled at her bottom lip as she gasped for breath. His hands moved softly over the front of her shorts and she gave a shudder.

"Booth" She moaned his name again. "Booth, I need you." Her breathing was fast and uneven. "Right now, Booth."

His mouth travelled softly across her face and planted a line of hungry kisses down her neck. She writhed in agony beneath him, desperate to feel his skin against hers, to feel the sweet relief she so desperately longed for him to give her.

"Where?" He nibbled at her ear.

Taking him by the hand, she led him towards a neighbouring field.

"Come with me."

I haven't decided yet whether the next chapter should be in a tent or in the field. Thoughts?