Disclaimer: I own nothing Bones related except my imagination.

Just a few more hours and I'll be home she thought tiredly as she stuffed her carry-on bag in the overhead bin before dropping down into her first class seat. After eight days of being hustled from one book signing event to another, bouncing from one small town to the next with a manic driver who hadn't seemed to understand, or care about, basic driving protocols, she was exhausted.

There was a time in her life when spending eight days in Argentina would've been a treat she would have thoroughly enjoyed. It still would be, under different circumstances. She would have loved getting out to walk around the small towns and spending her days talking to the inhabitants about their lives, just generally studying a culture that was different from hers. But no time for that on this trip. Her publicist had put together a grueling schedule which had barely left her enough time between events to learn the name of the next destination let alone allowing her the time to immerse herself in the native culture and just absorb the local day-to-day happenings occurring around her.

Brennan closed her eyes and rested her head against the cushioned seatback, trying to relax and unwind as the remaining passengers slowly boarded the plane, battling to fit their assorted bags and goodies in the too small overhead bins before settling into their own seats.

Her head hurt. The kind of ache that felt like her skull was being slowly but steadily squeezed in a vice. A low, constant throbbing pain on all sides and the analgesics she'd popped a little earlier didn't seem to be helping noticeably. It was making her cranky and she just wanted to be home. She slowly rolled her head around in circles and from side-to-side, trying to relieve some of the tension gathered in her neck.

She missed Booth . . . and Christine . . . her work at the lab . . . and Booth. She'd been on other trips by herself since they first got together, a couple were even longer than this one, and while she always missed him, it had never seemed quite like this before. She felt an almost visceral yearning to get back to him.

She'd spent a good portion of every day on this trip wishing she could just look up and find him standing there, that goofy charm smile he always flashed at her when he was trying to manipulate her into doing something on his face. More often than not, he'd get his way when he gave her that smile, even though she knew exactly what he was doing. That hopeful grin on his face, the twinkle in his eye – it was quite effective at getting her to yield to his will, regardless of whether or not whatever he was asking for was logical or in keeping with her own wishes. She smiled softly to herself, picturing his grinning face in her mind. Even before they were a couple, she'd been a sucker for that smile.

She was looking forward to feeling his arms around her again. She missed the way he held her, and touched her, both his unconscious casual touches and his more deliberate, intimate ones. She wanted to be able to feel the warmth of his bare skin against hers. She wanted to hear his heart beating reassuringly under her ear as she snuggled into him with her head on his chest. She wanted to be able to taste his mouth on hers, in the morning lightly tinged with the flavor of coffee and at bedtime with a hint of mint after brushing his teeth. She missed his smell on the sheets she slept on at night.

Yes, she'd spent nights away from him before, but this was the first time she'd left him since he'd been released from prison – a period of time during which every day that passed increased her fear that she wouldn't get him back again. This was the first time she'd not been able to touch him and assure herself that he was there, safe and strong, alive and well. The first time she had to satisfy herself for so long with only conversations on a telephone - no opportunity to look into the depths of his warm, brown eyes and see the love she felt for him reflected back at her. The first time she'd let someone or something else separate them, even though she'd vowed Never again.

She hated it. She felt incomplete.

Empty.

Miserable.

Alone.

Just that morning, she'd told Sabrina, her publicist that, in the future, she wanted accommodations made to allow her family to travel with her when she has to travel to promote her books. If her publisher didn't like that, then she'd just stop traveling all together. She wasn't going to allow anyone the power to separate her from him again. After all, she'd reasoned to Sabrina, as successful as this trip had been, she was sure that having Booth, aka "Agent Andy" along, would have made it an even bigger triumph. It was largely due to Booth's popularity in Argentina that this whole book promotional trip came about anyway.

* FLASHBACK *

"So, Dr. Brennan, did you have a pleasant honeymoon?" Sabrina had asked her when they met for a business luncheon shortly after she and Booth returned from their Argentinian vacation.

"Oh yes. It was quite pleasant and mostly adhered to the stereotypical societal norms for honeymoon behavior. We relaxed by the pool, did some sight-seeing, drank copious amounts of alcohol, engaged in frequent sessions of coitus, and assisted the local authorities in identifying a murderer. I found it all very enjoyable."

"A murderer? You got sucked into a murder investigation while on your honeymoon?"

"I know. Fascinating, isn't it?" Brennan responded before continuing on to give the publicist an overview of who the victim was, why he'd been killed, and how she and Booth had aided in the investigation.

Sabrina, who'd worked with Brennan long enough now to accept that the things which she found interesting or enjoyable most other people would find . . . odd and possibly . . . disturbing, was still a little aghast that she'd gotten herself embroiled in a murder investigation while on her honeymoon.

"For goodness sake, darling. How did the authorities even find you down there in order to request your help?"

"Oh. I took Booth to see the central morgue in Buenos Aires one afternoon when we got a little antsy after sitting around the pool for too long. I noticed the bones of someone who had died recently mixed in with a pile of significantly older bones and offered to help determine what they were doing there. I have a standing invitation with the Argentinian government to provide assistance in identifying remains so getting access to the case files was really quite easy."

"Well, what about Agent Booth's participation? The FBI wouldn't have any jurisdiction down in South America, so how did he get involved?"

Brennan chuckled ruefully. "You should appreciate this one, Sabrina. It wasn't actually FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth they wanted helping them, it was the super suave and talented Agent Andy Lister." She shook her head, still somewhat befuddled about how that aspect had played out. "Apparently, my books are quite popular down there, but the people are absurdly fascinated with the Agent Andy character - more than anything else. The stories must lose something in the translation to Spanish as the readers seemed to hardly pay attention to the science and forensics at all. Anyway, the local authorities decided that Booth was Agent Andy and they treated him like he was some sort of a celebrity crime-solving superhero, which is ridiculous of course." Brennan ended her explanation with a snort. "They were thrilled to have his help and invited him along to participate in the investigation."

"Hmmmm. Your books are quite popular down there you say? And the men especially relate to Agent Andy?" and just like that, Brennan could see the metaphoric wheels starting to spin in Sabrina's mind.

Sure enough, Sabrina had contacted Brennan a couple months later after doing some sales research and marketing analysis and tried to convince Brennan to agree to a book tour in Argentina. At the time, Brennan wasn't sure whether or not they might be moving from DC to Germany as it appeared Booth was in line for a promotion at the FBI and she had put off committing to a specific time frame for the trip until Booth's career situation settled down. Then, Booth had unjustly been incarcerated in a federal prison for a few months for challenging a ring of corrupt officials and there was no way Brennan would agree to leave him, or Christine, until that mess was sorted out. So, now, even though a fair bit of time had passed since their honeymoon, she'd finally found herself back in Argentina on a whirlwind book tour cooked up by her publicist as a result of some casual comments she'd made about Agent Andy's popularity over lunch one day over a year ago.

At this point, she just wanted to get back home again. All the other passengers had finally found their seats and the plane was pulling away from the gate and headed to the runway. She felt simultaneously hot and chilled. And sticky. And achy. And her stomach was starting to feel a little off-kilter and crampy. None of which boded well for the long flight home.

As soon as the plane was airborne, she found herself making a mad dash for the bathroom.

Two hours into the flight, and four bathroom visits later, she reluctantly acknowledged to herself that Dr. Temperance Brennan, who was almost abnormally healthy most of the time and had traveled to many exotic destinations in the past with no problems, had fallen victim to Montezuma's Revenge.

A/N: Should have another chapter up in a few days, but probably won't post this story line as frequently as I've done others in the past as I want to see how they deal with baby #2 on the show and work in parallel with TPTB, at least to some extent. Promise to try not to leave you hanging too long though.