A/N: Okay, here's the deal. I started writing this fic this way and I got stuck, so I brainstormed with my friend, jerseybones, and she thought I should flip it 180 degrees. 'Interesting idea,' I thought, so I wrote it that way too. But I really loved it this way too, there were so many lovely parts to it, I just didn't have the heart to discard it altogether. So I thought 'Why can't we have it both ways?' and musie said, 'Hell, yeah, why not?' and voila—you get both. Here is part one and part two is almost done, but I'm not gonna post it until tomorrow evening.

Protector

He struggled up through the layers of fog, drawn by the urgent feeling that there was something he had to do, right now. He forced his eyes open, puzzled at first by his surroundings. White walls, a muted T.V. hanging from a bracket on the wall, a white curtain hanging from an aluminum track on the ceiling. A low steady beeping drew his eyes to his right where a machine displayed assorted vital stats. He heard a soft snore to his left and he turned his head to find his partner slumped over sleeping in a chair by his bed.

Hospital, his sluggish brain supplied helpfully. Looking down at his body, he began cautiously moving extremities to determine the extent of his injuries. He was fine until he tried to move his arms, sending fiery pain shooting through his torso.

His faint groan brought her awake abruptly and suddenly she was leaning over him.

"Booth?" she asked hoarsely. Her cool hand brushed his forehead and his eyes fluttered shut as her touch soothed him. "How do you feel?"

Opening his eyes, he found her watching him worriedly. "What happened?" he rasped, then cleared his throat. Picking up the cup of water from the table beside the bed, she held the straw to his lips. He took a couple deep gulps and she set it back down.

"You don't remember?" she asked softly. Her hand stroked lightly down his arm to find his hand and grasp it gently.

He couldn't seem to pin down a coherent thought. They were flitting through his head, evading any attempt to examine them, but at least the feeling of urgency had faded. Because she was here, safe and sound? he wondered briefly. He frowned and made a restless move and Bones squeezed his hand.

"Lie still, Booth. You've been shot, but they were able to remove all of the bullets and repair the damage." There was an edge to her voice that told him it was more serious than she was letting on.

Licking his lips, Booth studied her face. "What happened?" he repeated in a stronger voice.

"You damn near died," she said with a catch in her voice. His frown deepened as he tried to remember.

Suddenly it all came crashing back in a series of lightning fast images. The abandoned house, the gunfire erupting from down the hall, pushing Bones down behind the old couch, covering her body with his as the bullets flew and then…nothing. Raising his right hand, he gingerly felt the bandage on his temple.

"Castenada…did we get him?" he finally asked.

Bones looked grim. "He got away. They haven't found him yet." Her hand clutched his tighter as tears gathered in her brilliant blue eyes. "Shielding me with your body…why did you do that, Booth? You nearly died!" she said with a break in her voice.

Booth opened his mouth to tell her, but couldn't get the words past the lump in his throat. Swallowing thickly, he looked down at their joined hands. How could he explain when he wasn't sure himself? How to explain something that was so ingrained in him, he couldn't even remember thinking before he did it? Blinking rapidly against the moisture in his eyes, he finally looked back up at her. His lips twitched.

"I couldn't let you get shot. You know how much paperwork that would entail?" he asked huskily, taking refuge in sarcasm.

A tear rolled down her cheek. "You big jerk," she muttered, an unwilling smile kicking up a corner of her mouth. He suspected she would have punched him if he wasn't lying in a hospital bed. He smiled, relieved as she dropped the subject for the moment.

They sent him home three days later with strict instructions that he rest. Cullen had made it clear he was to take three weeks off. Brennan drove him home. After settling him on the couch, she went back out for something she'd left in the car. His brows rose as she came in with a large duffel bag.

"I'm staying for awhile," she stated by way of explanation, like he had no say in the matter.

"Oh, really? What for?" he asked. Could he handle having her around all the time? The intimacy of the situation was going to test his self control where she was concerned and he wasn't sure he was up to handling it.

"You need someone to fix your meals, make sure you take your medication and bring you water…you know, so you can rest like the doctor instructed," she explained, her eyes meeting his with cool logic.

"I don't need a babysitter!" he retorted, though he had decided maybe it wasn't a bad idea after all. He hadn't been looking forward to the long empty hours. He was a social person and really didn't like being alone given the choice. And as for the other issue…he'd just have to take it a day at a time.

She dropped the bag by the door and raised a brow at him. "Nobody asked you. Angela already talked to Cam—she's going to take the mornings. I will take the afternoons and evenings." He was still looking a bit irritated, so she went to crouch next to where he lay on the couch and her hand touched his. "You almost died, Booth," she said somberly, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.

He turned his hand to thread his fingers with hers. "Hey, I'm okay. A little rest and I'll be good as new." She swallowed thickly as her eyes fell away from his. A squeeze of his hand brought her back to him. "I've been hurt worse, Bones. Really, I'm gonna be fine."

The first couple days weren't too bad. He slept a lot, read some and watched T.V. and Rebecca even brought Parker over to visit. But by Saturday he was starting to go stir crazy.

They were done with lunch and Brennan had tidied up the kitchen and they were sipping iced tea in the living room. She took the chair as he sprawled comfortably on the couch. She had been oddly quiet all morning and he wondered what was on her mind. Her hands were clasped on her knees and he knew he was about to find out.

Her eyes met his squarely. "I don't want to go out in the field with you any more," she said in her usual blunt manner.

Booth frowned. "Why? I thought you liked being in the field with me."

"I do," she said. "But you…my presence just divides your attention, putting you in more danger. I see that now."

His mouth was grim. Three years ago he would have been happy to hear this. But he'd come to depend on her help in the field. He didn't want to do it without her. "And the times you've saved my life? Don't they mean anything?"

She looked down at her hands for a long moment, then back up at him. "Of course they do. But don't you see? You were almost killed protecting me!" she said, a desperate edge to her voice. "Do you know what it would do to me if you were killed because of me?" she whispered as tears filled her eyes.

Booth stared into her beautiful blue eyes, torn. Should he tell her? Would it make things worse? Then he thought of going out into the field without her and that was the clincher.

"Come here," he said softly, patting the edge of the couch by his hip. She straightened in her seat, hesitant. Something in his voice and the somber look on his face told her this was a pivotal moment. She had said what she wanted to say, so she could just drop the subject. If she didn't, if she went to sit beside him, she sensed he was going to say something that couldn't be taken back, something that was going to change things forever. Was she ready for that? If she chose to avoid talking about it, could she stand not knowing for certain what he was going to say?

She moved to sit where he indicated gingerly, refusing to meet his eyes. He gently took her hand in his, squeezing it a little to make her meet his gaze.

"I've never had a partner like you," he said, and this time his eyes glanced away. "Hell, I never really wanted a partner, and God knows it took me awhile to get used to you, but once I did…" he admitted, trailing off as his eyes met hers and he became distracted by their crystalline depths. Her brows rose after a few moments and she made an impatient noise. "We're a team," he finally said. "A damn good one and I don't want to mess with that."

Her eyes dropped to their joined hands and Booth wondered what she was thinking. "How about a compromise?" she asked, looking back up at him.

"Like what?"

"I'll still go with you to interrogate suspects at headquarters, and of course process crime scenes, but when you go to apprehend suspects…I just think it would be safer for you if I stayed behind."

Booth was silent for a long time and Brennan fidgeted a little under his intense scrutiny. He was incredibly touched by her concern for him. She finally met his gaze squarely and the warmth in his eyes almost sent her running. She must have made an involuntary move to get up, because his hands suddenly came up to frame her face gently, effectively trapping her. His eyes dropped to her lips and her stomach clenched and her heart stopped as she realized he was going to kiss her.

He was drawing her closer and she told herself she didn't want to hurt him by struggling against the steady pressure. To be honest, she'd been thinking about this for some time now. Her eyes drifted shut at the first tender touch of his mouth, curiously intensifying the sensations as his lips gently explored hers. Conscious of his injuries, she put one hand on the back of the couch and the other on the cushion by his shoulder.

His hands threaded up into her luxurious hair, loosening it from the ponytail and gathering in up in his fists. His tongue nudged at her lips and she tilted her head, opening to him readily, drawing his tongue in to tangle with hers. She moaned a little as she leaned into him more and he nearly lost it at the touch of her breasts against his chest.

He groaned deeply and she broke the kiss, sitting up abruptly. Her eyes were huge and her face was flushed. "You okay?" she asked him in a husky breathless voice that sent shivers down his spine.

He frowned, confused, having momentarily forgotten his injuries. "Hell yeah," he said hoarsely. His hands urged her back, but she stopped short of his mouth.

"Booth," she said panted in a mildly scolding tone. "You're hurt and I don't think—" she began.

"Kissing never hurt anyone," he growled just before taking her lips once more. This time was even better as he set about exploring the soft depths of her mouth, his tongue advancing and retreating in a provocative rhythm. Her bones seemed to turn to jelly as sensations raced along her nerve endings, sending her senses into a spin that was threatening her equilibrium. He wasn't helping as his hands found her shoulders and began slowly drawing her down to his chest. Still aware of his injuries, she fought the urge to press herself against him, but he wasn't having that. His arms enfolded her, bringing her fully against him and he groaned again. She stiffened in alarm, but he wasn't acting like he was in pain. Quite the opposite, in fact. Still, they needed to stop, he was in no condition—

She tore away from him, standing and taking a stumbling step away from the couch. She stood for a moment, back to him, the back of her hand pressed to her throbbing lips, eyes closed against her clamoring emotions.

"Temperance," he said finally, his tone begging her to turn around.

She did, when she thought she was ready, only to find she would probably never be ready as her eyes met his, dark with desire. Her knees buckled and she sank into the chair, unable to tear her gaze from his. "That was not good—" she said shakily.

"That was fucking hot," he cut in impatiently.

"Well, yes, the kiss was…" she amended, trailing off as words failed her. "But you're hurt, and I don't want to do anything that might cause you more pain."

Booth drew a knee up, trying to relieve the pressure in his groin area. Taking a deep breath, he cocked a grin at her. "I appreciate your concern, but I really am okay," he said, noting with interest the flush on her face.

She smiled a little, as usual unable to resist that grin. Time to change the subject. "So, how about some T.V.?" she asked brightly, reaching for the remote.

"Temperance," he said low. Her eyes locked with his. "We're not done with this," he promised softly. She swallowed hard and nodded slightly, tearing her eyes away from him to focus on the television. Booth let her have her space for the moment. There would be time later. Maybe she could help him shower….?

A/N: How was that? You likey? Click the little blue button and feed musie, okay? Thank you so much for reading!