AN: This eye condition is the most likely given what happened in the episode, and the brief description of what actually happened to Emily Deschanel. Let me know if you find any mistakes.
Iritis
Booth and Brennan had just dropped off their cover motor home, and were headed back to D.C. Both of them were a little downcast about leaving Buck and Wanda Moosejaw behind. Although neither one was sure if it was because they were leaving behind the excitement of the circus or their fake marriage.
They had been driving for a while before Booth finally broke the silence.
"I'm really sorry about your eye, Bones."
"It was an accident, Booth, and I'm going to be fine. I just have a mild case of traumatic iritis," Brennan insisted.
"Traumatic iritis? That sounds serious; I'm going to take you to see a doctor when we get home."
"It's not that serious. I've already made an appointment with an ophthalmologist; you don't need to take me," Brennan responded as she took the ice pack off her eye, and replaced it with a pair of sunglasses.
"An oft-ala-mologist? What's that?"
"Ophthalmologist. It's an eye doctor."
"Why can't you just say 'eye doctor' then?" Booth remarked. "I'll take you to your appointment, you obviously can't drive right now."
"What? I have an eye injury; I'm not an invalid."
"You can't drive around with only one good eye, Bones!"
Brennan didn't say anything as she glanced out of the car window, but it was apparent to Booth that she had conceded. The last thirty minutes of the trip was spent mostly in companionable silence.
"So, where's this doctor's office?" Booth asked when they had reached D.C.'s city limits.
"Go to the Jeffersonian first; my appointment isn't for another half hour."
It didn't take long to reach the Jeffersonian, and the two headed straight for the medico-legal lab, carrying the small amount of equipment they had taken with them to the circus. Brennan waited until she was well inside the building before she took off her sunglasses, and it was at that exact moment that Angela spotted them.
"Hey, sweetie. Hey, Booth," she greeted.
"Hey, Ange."
"Oh, Bren, that didn't happen while you were practicing your act did it?" Angela remarked, pointing to her best friend's eye.
"No, Booth hit me in the eye with a large hammer."
"Accidentally, Bones! I hit you accidentally," Booth corrected quickly.
"Yes, accidentally," she amended.
"Is your eye okay? Is that why you were wearing that eye patch?"
"I've made an appointment with a doctor, but my eye will most likely heal completely–"
"You told me in the car that your eye was fine!"
"It was either the eye patch or the clown glasses that Booth brought me. What did you think of our act?" Brennan ignored her partner, anxious to hear what Angela had to say.
"Clown glasses huh?" Angela asked, glancing at Booth.
"I didn't have a lot of options," Booth answered, a little defensive.
"The act was great, Bren. But it looked really dangerous."
"You sound like Booth. The more danger, the more excitement for the spectators."
The FBI agent and the forensic anthropologist placed all of their equipment in its proper place, and on way to Brennan's office the three ran into Hodgins.
"Hey Dr. B. What's wrong with your eye?"
"Apparently, Booth hit her in the eye with some sort of prop," Angela commented.
"Like on purpose?"
Booth's only response was a glare directed at both Angela and Hodgins.
"So an accident then?"
"Let's go, Bones. It's time for your appointment."
Booth quickly led his partner out of the Jeffersonian in an effort to not run into anyone else, and luckily enough, they didn't.
The ride to the doctor's office didn't take long. However, the wait for her appointment did.
"Would you stop fidgeting?"
"I can't help it, Bones. Why is this taking so long?"
"Probably because you insisted on leaving the Jeffersonian so early," Brennan retorted before returning to her magazine.
Booth frowned at her, but his response was cut off when his partner's name was announced.
"Temperance Brennan?"
"Dr.," she told the nurse as she walked over.
"You don't need to correct everyone," Booth informed her, walking with her.
"What are you doing, Booth?"
"Accompanying you."
The nurse led them into a room, and instructed Brennan to sit down. She began the preliminary examination.
"This is completely unnecessary," Brennan mentioned to both the nurse and Booth.
"I can assure you, Dr. Brennan, it is necessary."
"I am also necessary," Booth added.
"I don't need any moral support; it's a minor injury."
Booth glanced over at the nurse before replying, "I just want to make sure your eye is alright."
The nurse left the room after she completed the initial checkup to get the doctor. He joined them shortly after that.
"How are you Dr. Brennan?"
"Fine."
"And you are? The husband?" he asked, flipping through some papers on a clipboard.
"What? No, we're partners."
The doctor seemed slightly confused by Booth's answer, but the agent wasn't sure how to make it any clearer for the man.
Brennan, for once, picked up on the ophthalmologist's uncertainty, and shed some light on the situation, "We work together; we're professional partners."
"Ah, I see," he said.
The doctor didn't add anything after that, and started looking at her eye.
"Any recent trauma?"
"Yes, I was hit in the eye with a large prop hammer."
He looked as if he wanted to ask about the large clown hammer, but thought better of it and finished the exam. He prescribed some drops, and instructed her to not expose her eye to any bright light and to take over-the-counter pills for any pain.
After they left the doctor's office, they picked up her prescription, and Booth took Brennan back to her apartment despite her protests.
The genius doctor walked into her kitchen, and called out to Booth to find out what he would like to drink. She pulled two beers from the refrigerator, and set them on counter before opening the white paper bag that contained her eye drops. She removed the small bottle, and tilted her head back to insert the drops in her injured eye. It wasn't going very well, however, and it was starting to annoy her; she let out an irritated huff, which Booth heard from the other room.
"What's wrong Bones?" he asked on his way to the kitchen. "Having some problems with the drops?"
"It's rather difficult."
Booth laughed, and took the bottle from her.
"Here, let me help."
He skimmed over the information on the dropper before invading her personal space, and instructing her to tilt her head back.
"Hold still, Bones," he said quietly, positioning the bottle over her eyelid, and successfully dropping some of the medication in her eye. "Close your eye."
She stayed like that for the requisite two minutes while Booth intently studied her features as he applied light pressure to the corner of her eye. After the time had passed, he wiped away the excess tears and drops, and the process was repeated. They didn't move away from the other even though the medication had already been taken care of.
"Thank you, Booth," Brennan told him softly.
"Your welcome. I really am sorry about your eye"
"I know it was an accident; you don't need to keep apologizing. I'm fine," she insisted, placing a hand on his arm.
For once, the two partners were unable to control the magnetism between them, and they leaned into each other. Their kiss swiftly turned from soft and light to rather heated. As Brennan threaded her fingers through Booth's hair, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, it was impossible for them to deny how good it felt to be so close to one another. It was possible, albeit difficult, for them to pull away.
"I, uh . . . I'm going to get us some food," Booth stammered. "Thai sound good?"
"Y – yes, that's fine."
Despite the increase in tension and awkwardness, they opted for delivery instead of carry out. After several minutes they were able to settle back into their familiar, and safe, rapport. Although they managed to return to the previous state of their relationship fairly easily, neither one could block out their romantic feelings anymore.
A switch had been flipped, and they weren't capable of reversing it.
Thoughts?