Hi! This story was inspired by I-Like-Pie-Too-Dean's "Two Lovers in the Hospital Bed". So thank you for writing that to inspire one of my own :)
This is a one-shot. A scene I've always loved to imagine from one of my all-time favorite episodes from season 1: Two Bodies in the Lab. Hope you enjoy!
-Gret
Two Phone Calls in the Night
Seeley Booth walked into his apartment incredibly annoyed. Sometimes that partner of his could really get under his skin.
They'd been with a victim, a young girl who was eaten alive by dogs. It was the most grotesque, sick thing – and she was talking about her dating life. About dating men and even about sleeping with them. Only Bones. She could always compartmentalize too well.
Ugh! And online dating? She had no idea what kind of person she was in such a rush to meet, but she scoffed at his concern – even met his attitude with attitude of her own.
He hadn't meant to show attitude about her date; it was kind of like admitting that it mattered to him. Which it didn't. At all. He was just concerned. The last thing he needed was her telling him about sleeping with men. It made it only too clear what her expectations for her evening were.
Sometimes she could be so naïve, so thick-headed – so stupid! And he was saddled with her as a partner, this infuriating woman. Sure, her expertise and brilliance was unparalleled. In that respect, he needed her.
Sometimes he wondered if he'd be better off working alone again. Or reneging on their agreement and keeping her in the lab.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he grabbed it, still annoyed, still angry – hoping for a good distraction.
"Booth."
"Booth, it's Agent Biggins. I was just wondering if your partner is with you."
"No, she's not here with me," he said, confused as to why any agent would ask him that. "Why would she be with me?"
"Well, she left the crime scene and we were not done questioning her," the young agent explained.
His anger dissipated instantly, only to be replaced by cold fear. "What are you talking about?"
"You… haven't talked to her?"
"No," he said in a tight voice. "Spill it Biggins – what's this about? What crime scene?"
"Um…" the young man stumbled. "Your partner was shot at – multiple times. Near the restaurant she was supposed to be meeting someone at."
Booth's heart fell to his stomach, began racing incredibly fast. "What? Who? Is she okay?"
"We don't know who the shooter was. It was a drive-by and they got away. She is fine. One bullet grazed her and ripped her clothing. She was very lucky and moved very quickly. Poor thing, though, she seemed pretty shaken up about it. Looks like the first chance she got, she fled. Makes sense. Victims of drive-by shootings don't much like to stick around and talk about it right away."
As the man talked, Booth just felt a buzzing in his ears. Someone had shot at Bones. Tried… to kill Bones. Nearly succeeded.
He'd been annoyed at her for – well, just for being her. He'd given her attitude for wearing her honesty on her sleeve like she tended to do. He'd told her to go away, to go on her date – barely looked at her. Made it clear he was judging her, angry at her. And he could see that that bothered her. She had even called him on it.
He hadn't looked at her. He'd acted angry and uncaring. Even come home still reeling about it, thinking such bad things about her as a person.
But now, with a clarity that made him shake he realized that she was someone he couldn't live without. He needed to see her. Needed to make sure that she was okay. And he needed to catch the son of a bitch that had tried to end her life.
He hung up with Biggins and quickly dialed the number at the lab, a number he knew so well. He needed to know that Bones was somewhere safe. Someone wanted her dead. How dare she leave the crime scene on her own!
"Hey Booth," Angela said. "Yes – she's here. And on a mission."
"Well is she okay? An agent said that one of the bullets grazed her clothing. And she didn't stick around for paramedics to check her over. Are you sure that none of the bullets grazed more… more than her clothing?" he said, his voice thick.
He couldn't lose his partner. He'd never wanted one. But now that he had her, he realized that he didn't want anyone else for the job. Ever.
"She's okay. You know Bren, just acting like she doesn't care or wasn't totally rocked by it. She's just trying to solve it now – to do something that makes her feel in control."
"Well she should've stayed put! Tell her that I'm on my way and that I'm pissed she left. They still had more questions at the crime scene. And the more cooperative she is, the easier it is to catch the bad guys. After working with me on this side of the investigation for so many months, she should know that!"
"Well, I don't think she was thinking as clearly or logically as she normally does, what with escaping a round of bullets aimed at her head within an inch of her life. But I'll give her the message."
He hung up and took a couple of deep breaths. Why was he so cagey? Why was he so nervous? As he jumped in his car and sped over to the Jeffersonian, he realized it. He had been mean to her and then she'd nearly died. He'd pushed her away – out of jealousy, if he was honest with himself – and someone had nearly killed her when his back was turned.
No more. He wasn't letting her out of his sight until the bad guy was caught.
She meant too much. And he wouldn't lose her. He'd die to keep her safe.
The realizations – about his jealousy, about how important she was to him now, about how no matter how much she annoyed him, he'd always want her as his partner – shook him to the core. Pushing down on the gas, moving faster to his partner to protect her, he decided to push those thoughts down too. Suppress them completely.
These were all things he could analyze on another day. Today – they weren't the most important things. Not even close.