ARRESTING BONES

Booth and Brennan watched the paramedics roll Ken Thompson out on a stretcher. Brennan felt a curious satisfaction that he was still moaning with pain. She wasn't normally a vengeful person, but after what he had done to Cleo Eller, she felt he deserved to suffer. She looked up at Booth to share her feelings and found him looking at her grimly.

"What? Are you going to give me a hard time for enjoying that murderous bastard's pain?"

Booth shook his head, pulling out his handcuffs. "Temperance Brennan, you're under arrest for assault with a deadly weapon," he began as he grabbed her left wrist and snapped the cuff on. Brennan was so stunned she just stood there with her mouth hanging open. Booth passed behind her and grabbed her right hand, cuffing that wrist too as he Mirandized her. She found her voice when he grabbed her arm and started leading her outside.

"Wait, Booth, I had to shoot him! He was going to light me on fire!" she protested, feet dragging every step of the way.

'Bones, I'm sorry, but I have to take you in. The fact is, you shot an unarmed man." Booth couldn't meet her eyes and Brennan sighed with frustration.

"He was standing in a pool of gas with a lit cigarette lighter. That's not armed?" she argued. They arrived at Booth's SUV and he opened the back door for her. "Can't I ride in front with you?" she asked.

Booth finally looked her in the eye. "I'm sorry, Bones, regs won't let a suspect ride in the front."

"Suspect?" Brennan echoed, voice cracking. "I'm your partner, Booth," she said, trying to figure out if this was some bizarre joke on his part. The look on his face said it wasn't.

Booth stepped close to her and dropped his voice. "Listen, Bones, it's because you're my partner that everything has to be done by the book. I can't give anyone a reason to say you received special treatment. Now, would you please get in so we can get this over with?" He gestured at the back seat. Studying him for another moment, Brennan could see that he was dead serious. She was going to have to go through the whole routine in order to clear her name.

"Fine," she huffed, and slid into the back seat as he guided her head under the top of the doorway, just as she'd seen cops do. That little gesture pointed out the seriousness of the situation to her. She was a suspect. She spent the entire ride in silence, trying to get her mind around the idea.

Brennan sat in an interrogation room sipping a bottle of water. She could sense Booth's presence on the other side of the two way mirror, and she was determined that she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her squirm. She still firmly believed that she had done the right thing. If she hadn't shot Thompson in the knee, he would have set the place on fire. She was sure of it.

The door opened and Agent Phillips walked in. Brennan forced herself to remain seated and relaxed, no mean feat under the circumstances. He sat in the chair opposite her, placing a notepad and pen on the table and got right to the point.

"Dr. Brennan, would you please give me a rundown of the events leading up to the shooting of Mr. Thompson?" His gaze met hers steadily.

"Why are you interrogating me? Why isn't Booth doing it?" she asked, silently cursing the crack in her voice.

Phillips darted a glance at the two way mirror, confirming Brennan's suspicion that Booth was in the observation room. "Please don't look at it as an interrogation, Dr. Brennan. As for your question, as your partner, Booth cannot be directly involved in your questioning. It's for your own good. If this were to go to trial, we can't have any doubt as to the voracity of your statement." Phillips' eyes softened with sympathy. "I know this is difficult, but I would appreciate your cooperation so that we can conclude this as quickly as possible."

Brennan pursed her lips, frustrated because everything he had said was completely logical. She straightened her spine and began in an even voice. "I went to Thompson's house because I had concluded that he was Cleo Eller's murderer. When I looked through the window, I saw that he was getting ready to set a fire to destroy the evidence, so I broke in. I pulled my gun and told him to stop, but he pulled out a lighter and lit it. Then he threatened to set the place on fire and that's when I shot him in the knee." She resisted the urge to look toward the two way mirror. Focus, Brennan.

"Had you been drinking?" Phillips asked. "Thompson said he smelled alcohol on your breath."

Brennan closed her eyes briefly. "I had one mixed drink with my colleagues. I was not inebriated. I knew what I was doing."

Agent Phillips jotted a couple lines. "Would you say you felt you were in imminent danger?"

Sighing, Brennan dropped her head forward. She really was too tired for this. "The man was holding a lit cigarette lighter in a room doused with gasoline. Any moron would have felt threatened."

"So you believe shooting him was your only option?" Brennan nodded. "Did you give him any warning that you were going to shoot him if he didn't stop what he was doing?"

Brennan frowned as she tried to recall. The whole scenario had played out so quickly. "No," she said slowly. "I don't think I had a chance. He started to lean down to start the fire and I just reacted." She couldn't help the glance she darted at the mirror. She hoped Booth understood. His opinion was the only one she really cared about.

After making some more notes, Phillips clicked the pen and put it away. He stood and gestured to the door. "Thank you for your cooperation, Dr. Brennan. You're free to go."

Brennan stood, relieved yet vaguely suspicious. "Free to go? Just like that?"

Phillips looked at her curiously. "Yeah, your statement matches up with the ones given by Lauriet and Booth. We've already called your colleagues and confirmed that you had only had one drink. The Bureau is not going to press charges at this time." He stood at the door, waiting for her to go. But she wasn't done yet.

"Oh, so just like that, I'm free to go? Why couldn't you have taken my statement at the scene?" She aimed her next question at the mirror. "Why did you have to cuff me and drag me here? Why couldn't you just believe me?"

"Thompson has some powerful friends," Booth said from the doorway. Brennan's head whipped around. Phillips had made his escape. "We don't need the kind of flak he could give us if I had treated you the way I wanted to treat you. He had to see you taken away in cuffs." His eyes locked with hers for a long moment. "I'm sorry, Bones," he said softly. He really did look sorry. Brennan felt her anger seep away.

"It's okay, I understand. You did what you had to do," she said, "Just like I did what I had to do."

Booth looked at her for a long moment. "So, are we okay?"

Brennan smiled a little. "Yeah, we're okay." Booth sighed in relief, but she couldn't resist one last dig. "Can I have my gun back?"

Booth closed his eyes. Here we go, he thought. I really don't want to tell her, 'cuz she's just going to get mad again. "I'm afraid not. The Bureau has suspended your right to carry."

"What? But I was cleared of the charges!"

"Don't worry, you can reapply in eight weeks. Meanwhile, I'm your gun." Booth tried to suppress a grin at her temper, but he was only partially successful. His half smile did nothing to alleviate her ire.

"Forgive me if that doesn't bring me a lot of peace of mind. You're not always going to be around when I need a gun," she said callously.

"My hands are tied, Bones. Cullen ordered the suspension." He took a step toward her. "I'm sorry I wasn't right there with you when you confronted Thompson. You shouldn't have had to face him alone." He reached out and squeezed her arm to make her look at him. "I promise to do my best to have your back in the future. But you have to promise me not to go running off to confront killers by yourself." His tone told her he wasn't kidding.

"Okay, I'll try. But if I had waited for you, Thompson would have started the fire and he might have gotten away with Cleo's murder."

Booth sighed. "Maybe. But I have a feeling you would have come up with some way to get him in the end." Brennan smiled, flattered that he had such faith in her abilities. "Ready to go, Bones?" he asked.

"Yeah, but don't call me Bones" she said automatically, and followed him out the door and down the hall. 'Let's see,' she thought, 'this is September 2nd, so eight weeks from now would be….'