DISCLAIMER: I don't own Bones.

Notes:

Word count - 2,276

Pairing - BrennanxBooth (TemperancexSeeley)

Rating - T

They had dinner reservations that night—it was Valentine's day after all—and were going to go in a few hours. They were going to have this extravagant meal together, share a few laughs, and converse on what was going on in each other's world. He was going to finally come to terms with his feelings and express his heart right to her face.

But no. She just had to get herself kidnapped by the murderer in the recent case.

One minute, she was sitting at her desk with him sitting there, waiting for her to get ready. She was typing in a few notes from the case. Then, the lights turned off and he was punched in the face. At first, he thought it was Bones (yes, she had that much strength in her). But when the lights were turned back on—almost a full five minutes later—Bones was gone, and all that was left was a little note that read, "Come find her."

How did they get her without her punching someone? Did she think it was Booth? And why didn't she make a sound? Booth ran out of the Jeffersonian and looked around for any evidence: just a small address written on a wet piece of paper. Thank God for the squints to figure out the address. Then, he ran.

Right now, he was driving down the road with the case file on the passenger seat. He was frantic, panicking about the last phone call he received from the murderer. "You burn the case files of the victim," he could hear her struggling to escape in the background, "or she gets a bullet right between the eyes." Her breathing was picking up and he knew she was afraid.

"How will you know I burned them?" The man laughed.

"She'll tell me if you have ash particles in between the seams of your jacket," he heard her strain out, "Booth" and his heart started to hurt.

"Then you better let her go."

"Yes, yes, this…fine specimen will be free soon enough. You have an hour, Agent Booth," a click was soon heard. This was not how he wanted this night to end! Left turns, sharp turns, and a few right turns later, he found the spot where his partner, the love of his life, was located: her old home. He slammed the car door behind him (he had the file in his hand) and ran towards the front door. A shot was heard inside the home and he started to freak. No, she wasn't going to die! He was ten minutes early!

* * * *

Bones looked at the man and noticed him pacing back and forth in a nervous trance. He was mumbling to himself, wondering what he could do next once Booth arrived. At least, she hoped for him to arrive. Her wrists were tied behind the chair, her legs tied to the actual legs of the chair (she had ideas about him raping her) and her mouth was gagged with a clean, white cloth. Truth be told, she was immobile and mute at the same time. The man looked at her.

"Are you afraid?" She shook her head. Of course, she would not tell the truth to this man; it would only provoke him to do criminal acts. She tried to relax her breathing, but nothing worked. Her heart was racing, her blood was rushing through her veins, and sweat came from every pore in her body. The man smiled and raised his arm. She closed her eyes and, sure enough, the impact of the gun's metal made her head swing to the right. Now her head was throbbing. "Are you afraid now?"

Again, she shook her head. The man pulled the white cloth down from her mouth and she started to breathe from there. She looked at the man and continued to shake her head. "I am not afraid of most murderers anymore, from the insane to the clinically vengeful. You are showing signs of weakness by pacing back and forth, while I am supposed to be terrified at the threats you should be making." He scoffed and placed the cloth back in her mouth. He aimed the gun near her left ear and fired.

She screamed and heard the echoing of the bullet enter her ears. She closed her eyes—she couldn't look at him anymore—and heard him laugh. "You are not afraid, yet you scream." The door opened from behind and the man quickly turned around to fire. Bones screamed again and started to imagine another world where she could escape; if only that were true.

* * * *

He started to kick the door in. "Hang on, Bones!" The harder he kicked, the more it hurt for him to think she was not alive. "Just hang on!" Finally, the hinges broke off the door and he stormed inside. With every twist and turn, he looked around for his love. He could hear strained breathing coming from the bedroom upstairs and ran up the steps. He skipped a few every once in a while, but he was at the top in no time.

He listened for the breathing once more. It was coming from her old room. He ran to the door and turned the knob. As soon as that happened, a shot came flying towards him. He ducked, but the shot landed in his right shoulder. "H-Hey! It's Agent Booth!" The murderer walked to the door and opened it, pointing the gun straight at Booth. Booth raised his hand—the other arm was immobile from being shot—and the murderer grabbed him and dragged him inside.

It was a clean room, Booth noticed. The carpets were clean, the walls were a dark shade of blue, and the windows let in some of the moon light from outside. It was a nice place, after all. He looked around and found Bones on the opposite side of the room, bleeding from her head. Her eyes were closed and her body was stiff. No, no, no. Booth sat down on the ground with the file in his hand and stared at her. She was still breathing; he sighed a ton of relief out of his system.

He needed to save her. That was the bottom line. He'd do anything for her, no matter what she asked for: if she asked for it, he'd do whatever it took to make her happy. So here he was, staring death in the face after countless times with a murderer who wanted to be free forever.

The murderer stood in front of her. "Now, why is it that you have the file here, Agent Booth?" He cocked the gun and aimed the gun right at her head. "I thought I told you to burn it," he shook his head and threw the file at the murderer's feet.

"She wouldn't have known if I had ash particles in my jacket. I figure you could do it yourself," the murderer bent down and picked up the file, "besides, she's a bones specialist. Not one of those squints back at the lab," she opened her eyes and felt her head throbbing. Yes, he was actually there with her! And here she was, thinking she was dreaming it all.

The murderer opened the file and flipped through the pages. Yes, all of the information was there for the taking, to be burned forever so that no one could ever tie him to the crime—except those in the room with him. Booth leaned against the wall and looked down at his shoulder; it wasn't a lot of blood. He heard a strained mumble. He looked up and saw Bones crying.

She was mumbling "Booth" but it came out in a weird sound. She said it over and over again before Booth started to cry with her. God, this is not how Valentine's was supposed to turn out. The murderer noticed their exchange and looked back at the woman. Then back to Booth. He rolled his eyes. "God, don't tell me you are romantically together," Bones looked up at the murderer; she didn't catch Booth's nod. He was waiting for an answer from her, but found nothing.

So he pointed the gun at Booth. She panicked and screamed again. The murderer looked back at her: "And here I thought you weren't afraid," and Booth pulled out his gun. The murderer's focus turned to Booth, who was surprised the man actually brought a gun with him, and smiled. "Are you challenging me, when your partner here," he brought the gun to Bones' temple, on the left side. He looked back at Booth. "is risking her life for you?"

"I'd drop your gun, you bastard," Booth exclaimed. Bones said "Booth" again, who looked at her, and she nodded. What was that suppose to mean?! "What now, Bones? Are you trying to give me pointers on how to shoot my gun?" She shook her head. He didn't understand her and went back to the murderer. She closed her eyes and leaned back.

She could feel the cold metal rest on her skin, the bullet wanting to be implanted in her skull. "I would let her go," he pressed the gun harder on her skull, "but you did not burn the file. Now, I'll have to kill you both, and she'll be the first," Booth did not understand his logic. Shouldn't the murderer shoot Booth first? He spoke too soon; the murderer quickly threw the gun around and shot. Booth was hit in the chest.

He moved back against the wall and felt his blood drip down the beautiful blue walls. It wasn't fatal, no, but damn, it hurt like hell! "I'll wound you first in order for your gun to never reach any part of my body." He was right; he couldn't move his arm. The gun was placed on Bones' skull one more and the murderer smiled. "Now, if you'll excuse me, this room needs to be repainted with her blood," before he shot, he whispered:

"You should've never gotten yourself into a fine mess," and fired. Booth screamed her name and ran at full speed towards the guy. He didn't need both arms to take him down. When he was on the floor, Booth only took one shot—one opportunity—to shoot the killer right between the eyes. Booth turned to Bones and saw blood drip down her face.

God, no! No, no, no, no. He ran around to see her face and saw her eyes tightly closed, her breathing heavy, and crying her eyes out. She turned her head the second before he shot and leaned back in the chair; he completely missed her head. He sat down on the floor at her feet and sighed. The squints, who rushed into the home mere minutes after that last shot was fired, brought the cloth away from her mouth.

Jack and Angela worked on the ropes and Cam made sure the FBI would come to the home as soon as possible. Booth refused any medical attention and claimed: "Get her well first. I don't need anything." He looked up at her and saw her lips trembling with fear and sadness. He sighed again. "Geez, Bones! And here we were, about to go out for dinner tonight! Looks like I had to be your hero once again."

Yes, if it weren't for him…she'd be dead by now. With all the times she had to be saved from him, it was as if he were the knight in shining armor and she was the heroine always needing his protection. You can't have one without the other, right? When Angela untied the last rope from her ankles, it didn't take long for Bones to run to him and hold on with her life.

She sat there with him and she didn't need his arms for his warmth. "I think," she whispered, "I think you are supposed to save me, Booth. You're supposed to save the damsel in stress," he laughed.

"It's distress, Bones," she smiled. She always knew she would get these clichés wrong. The FBI agents quickly moved through the room for any evidence against the man—not like they needed it anyway—while Bones and Booth stayed like that. She didn't care if his blood was on her shirt; he didn't care if he was in pain. They both knew they were alive.

She whispered in his ear: "Thank you. Thank you so much, Seeley. Without you," he closed his eyes, "I don't know where I'd be, and I don't want to know, ever," he smiled. He didn't care if it wasn't the old "I love you"; she was saying what his heart wanted to hear all along. That would suffice. She kissed his cheek and held on tighter. He whispered back:

"I love you too, Temperance," and made the best hug he could manage with one arm. She smiled and continued to cry as much as possible before her tear ducts could do no more. So this was love, was it? It felt wonderful, to say the least. She had never felt anything like it—it was almost a phenomena! She would have to research later, but it could wait. Anything could wait when he was around.

Of course, they had to be apart for Booth to get medical attention soon after, and Bones had to get medical attention for her head. Both had separate procedures done to them—Bones only needed stitches and X-rays, while Booth needed surgery to get the bullets out. But it wouldn't take long for them to get back together again and finally have their Valentine's meal. They would have the fanciest food at their disposal; they would talk about what was going on in life besides what had just happened; it would be full of laughter and, most of all, love.

After all, they did have a room together.

If Bones and Booth had a Valentines date together...Yeah, I can picture this happening. Have you ever noticed that whenever you THINK something romantic will happen, someone just ruins it? COME ON.

Good thing I didn't have Jack or Angela ruining the moment, right?! Anyway, I tried to keep them in character, but with Bones always being so nervous while kidnapped or about to be killed, she always seems to be more emotional and human. At least, that's how I see her. Hmm.

Also, I just can't picture them together at a restaurant. Maybe at her place (or his, whatever) just sitting around, but not at a restaurant.

ANYWAY! Sorry again if they're OOC, if this is too long, if this isn't romantic enough..I tried, I really did.

Please review! I'd love you forever 8) Besides, if you review, I'll write more Bones oneshots~ Because, after all, we don't have enough of these!

Until next time!

TLS