Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I own nothing here but the idea.

Author's Note: This is written from Brennan's POV.

The smell of putrified flesh burned my nostrils and I fought back a wave of nausea as I opened my mouth and inhaled deeply. The sun was hot, burning the top of my head as I batted away low branches and climbed over fallen trees. Ahead of me, Special Agent Seeley Booth weaved in and out amongst the trees, and his galloshes splashed loudly in the ankle-deep swamp water. Carefully I retraced his steps, steadied myself slightly against the trunk of a tree as I stepped onto a marshy piece of land. I cursed under my breath and held the trunk with both hands as I tried to free my feet. Up ahead, Booth stopped and turned.

"You okay back there, Bones?" He lifted a tanned arm up and sheltered his eyes from the sun. I could see his t-shirt tighten over his biceps, and I swallowed hard as I fought to free my feet. In the distance I could hear the crackle of trees burning, and the whirr of fire trucks as they pumped water out.

Finally I pulled my feet free and let go of the tree trunk, quickly sloshed out of the marshy land, and closed the gap between myself and my partner. "Maybe we could go a little slower," I suggested as the handful FBI field agents that had been trailing behind us by about half a mile caught up with us. I watched them as they passed us, a mass of black t-shirts with 'FBI' printed on the back with big, yellow letters.

Booth nodded, turned and wiped a trail of sweat out of his eyes. "We're almost there now," he said as he climbed up a steep incline and held his hand out to pull me up when he reached the top. I didn't want to point out that that was the fifth time in the last half an hour he had said that.

"Tell me again why this is the FBI's concern," I asked as I brushed my damp hands down the front of my khakis and grabbed his outstretched hand.

Booth turned to regard me as I gripped his hand, his eyes narrowed against the sun. "DC received a tip-off late last night that a prolific drug baron was on board the plane, along with over $15,000 worth of heroin from across the Mexican boarder. The informant suggested that the plane was in danger, and at approximately ten-thirty this morning we received a call from the informant who said the plane had gone down."

As I climbed up to stand beside Booth, the smell of burning flesh and wood was even stronger, and I fought to keep the bile down that was rising in my throat. About a hundred yards in front of us was a clearing, blackened trees leaning at a dangerously low angle. The floor of the forest was black too, and crinkled underfoot as we made our way towards the service road that ran between us and the crash site.

The plane had split in half as it hit the trees. Where we stood I could clearly make out the broken form of the fuselage. Perhaps half a mile away I could see the tail section, which was stuck vertically in the soft ground. Beyond that I could see the faint glow of fire as firefighters fought to bring blazing trees under control. I moved closer to the fuselage, my eyes narrowing as I made out the charred remains of perhaps a dozen bodies scattered on the forest floor. As I crossed the dusty service road a man stepped in front of me.

"Dr. Brennan, thank you for making it as such short notice." The man held out a hand and I shook it briefly, the rough callouses on his palm scratching my skin. "Special agent in charge Robert Meden," he said as way of introduction, his hand dropping mine and gesturing behind him. "Early indications suggest about ninety people were on board, plus five crew. The plane was on an internal flight from LAX to New York when it crashed here. I'm sure Agent Booth has briefed you about the possiblity of narcotics being onboard."

I nodded briefly as I reached into my backpack and pulled out a box of latex gloves. I took a pair and held the box out to Booth, who also took a pair. "If you don't mind," I said, addressing Meden, "I want to take a look at the remains now. If I can at least start to identify which parts belong together, we can get them bagged together before they get sent to the lab." I dropped my bag at the bottom of a blackened tree stump and crossed to the first set of remains I could see, Booth close behind.

The first remains were those of an infant, and I said as much to Booth. I saw him pale visibly as I looked closer at the remains, picking up the charred remains of a left leg that lay a few feet away from the body. I studied it closely before placing it gently beside the body and flagging the remains to be placed together in one body bag. A young morgue worker, possibly no more than twenty, scurried over and began packing the remains away.

Booth stood, his face grim as he looked down at me. "It's going to be a long afternoon."

I had recovered twenty sets of remains - ten of them infants - before the sky began to darken and a dense fog settled on the area. Large spot lights had been set up to aid the salvage operation, but even the bright beam wasn't enough to penetrate the mist. I pulled off my gloves as the last set of remains of the night were bagged and labelled, and walked over to where Booth was stood.

"Meden's arranged for us to stay in town overnight," he said, falling in line beside me as I headed in the direction of the service road. I could make out the faint glow of police flares as we got closer. "The weather's turned down the mountain and it'd be too dangerous to drive back to DC tonight." He took my elbow as I tripped on a twig.

As we got closer to the service road I saw Booth's SUV and turned to him with a quizzical look. "How did you get your car up the mountain?"

He smiled as we approached his car and he opened the door for me to climb in. We had joined the mountain at a nature reserve approximately five miles from the crash site, the authorities saying it was too dangerous for us to use the service road while the fires were blazing. Now, with the fires extinguished, we could use the road that would lead us directly into town.

Climbing in the drivers seat, Booth turned the key in the ignition and turned to me. "I got a lift back to the reserve while you were working. Figured you'd prefer to drive rather than hike back down." He pulled away, creeping down the mountain side as the headlights from the car struggled to illuminate the way. Red flares sparkled on either side of the road, lighting the way to some degree.

I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. I thought of the remains I had found during the day. Meden had said that there had been school children on board the plane, travelling home after a visit to Disneyland. He'd told me to prepare myself for finding more infant remains.

When I opened my eyes again the SUV had stopped and Booth was looking across at me. I looked out the window, the fog denser than it had been up the mountain. "Where are we?"

"The motel, I think," he replied, gesturing to the faint neon glow of the motel sign. He climbed out of the car and walked around to the back. "I'll get the bags whilst you check us in.

I headed into the small reception area whilst Booth unloaded our overnight bags. As I opened the glass-panelled door, a bell tinkled above my head, and I heard the shuffle of feet coming from a room beyond the counter that ran the length of the back wall of the lobby. The walls were wood panelled, the carpet a light beige that had seen better days. The coconut mat under my feet was worn in the middle. I stepped off the mat and made my way to the counter as a short, balding man in his mid-seventies stepped into view. Wire rimmed spectacles dangled on a chain around his neck and he squinted as he grabbed them and placed them low down on his nose.

"Can I help you?" His southern accent was thick and rough.

"Two rooms were booked for my partner and I," I explained as I placed my hands on the counter. It was sticky, and I quickly moved my hands. "Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan."

The clerk held up a finger, signalling he would need a moment. I heard papers shuffling on the desk below the counter on the other side, and the man coughed a rough, phlegm-filled cough before addressing me again.

"Ain't got no booking for Brennan," he replied nonchalantly. "Booth is in room 5." He reached up to the wall behind him and pulled down a silver key. I noticed it was the only one left in a row of empty hooks, but a couple glinted in the harsh flourescent lighting on the row underneath.

"Can I book a room, then?" I asked, my patience wearing thin. I heard the bell tinkle and the door shut. Booth came and stood beside me, clutching our bags.

The clerk shook his head sadly. "Booked out," he told me as he handed the key to Booth. "Ain't no rooms available 'til next Wednesday." He pointedly looked at the clock on the wall, shaped like a cat. The tail swung as the seconds ticked by. He looked at us briefly over the top of his glasses before he turned slowly and disappeared through the door behind him.

I stood, hands on hips, and turned to face Booth. "Now what?" My patience had gone; I was tired and needed a bath.

Booth picked up the bags and juggled them both in one hand while he clutched the key in the other. "We'll share," he said with a shrug. He pushed open the door and stepped into the misty night air. "You can take the bed, I'll take the floor."

That didn't feel right to me, but as Booth unlocked the door to room five I knew there would be no point in arguing. He entered the room before me, dropped the bags and reached for the light switch.

"Or maybe not," he said as a dim orange light filled the room, illuminating two single beds pushed against the back wall, a small vanity unit between them.

The walls were painted a dingy shade of cream, the thick brown carpet pock-marked with cigarette burns. A small sofa and overstuffed armchair sat against the righthand side of the room, a black and white t.v. on a rickety table under the window. An open door led off to the left and I could make out the silhouette of a toilet. I let out an audible sigh of relief, although I couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable at the thought of sharing a room with Booth.

It wasn't that I didn't want to share with Booth. Not only was he my partner, he was my friend, and more recently I'd found myself having dreams about him that I'd not had about my other 'friends'. Dreams in which I found myself working in my lab back in Washington, with only the bones of a long-dead man in front of me. He'd appear suddenly, climbing the steps to the platform and snaking his arms around my waist. I'd feel his warm breath on my neck as if it were real.

"Bones?"

I realised that he was staring at me, his brow knitted together in concern, and I realised I'd been staring at the beds.

"Is this going to be okay for you?" That was Booth, always eager to please.

I nodded ferverently, picked up my overnighter and walked over to the beds. I chose the one nearest the bathroom. I set my bag on the bed and noted the large dark stain on the flowered comforter. My nose wrinkled in disgust and I simulatiously lifted my bag and whipped back the comforter. Luckily, the sheets underneath were clean and crisp. I set my bag back on the bed and unzipped it.

Booth was still stood in the doorway and I could feel his eyes on me as I methodically took out my clothes and hung them on the rail in the closet between the main room and the bathroom. I swiftly took out my underwear and stashed it in a drawer in the vanity unit as Booth cleared his throat behind me and made his way to his bed. Instead of unpacking his bag he flopped down and put his hands under his head.

"Any thoughts on the crash?" he asked as he stifled a yawn.

I glanced at my watch. It was already past midnight. My stomach growled in protest and I realised I'd not eaten since breakfast. "No," I replied, my bag empty. I clutched my toiletry bag in one hand, a soft, thick bath towel in the other. "I want to wait until I can get to the lab to look at the remains."

Booth nodded and turned his head to look at me. "We'll head up to the site in the morning if the weather's cleared. If not, we'll find out if there are any eye-witnesses, anyone who saw the plane come down."

I nodded my reply and headed for the bathroom. I ran the bath water as hot as I could stand and let a few drops of lavender bubble bath foam up before I climbed in. I scrubbed my skin clean before massaging shampoo through my hair, my nails scratching my scalp as I rubbed vigourously. Dealing with fresh remains always made me feel diry, contaminated.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, a puff of steam following me, I heard the gentle hum of the t.v. and soft snores coming from Booth. I smiled wearily before I climbed into the bed next to him, my eyes roaming across his prone body as I did. Reluctantly I turned out the light.

I awoke the next morning to the smell of fresh coffee. I prised my eyes open, looked at my watch and grimaced at the earliness of the hour. I sat up and saw a cardboard tray holding two coffee cups and a white paper bag rolled over at the top. I slid out from beneath the cool sheets I slipped my feet into my flip flops and padded over to the bag. Behind me the bathroom door clicked open and I looked up from the bag of donuts as he flopped down on the sofa. His hair was damp and he wore a tan t-shirt and khakis.

"Morning, Bones," he said. I could feel his eyes on me as they roamed up and down my body. I suddenly felt prone, stood before him wearing nothing but a pair of short shorts and a tank top. "Help yourself. I found a diner just down the road selling probably every kind of donut imaginable."

I reached into the bag and pulled out a ring dusted in icing sugar. I sat down on the sofa next to Booth and grabbed a coffee cup. I set it down at my feet and bit into the donut. It was soft and sweet, and I relished the taste as I ate it slowly.

"The weather's lifted," Booth was saying as he spread his legs out and crossed them at the ankle. "You wouldn't believe what a dive this place is from the outside." He regarded the cracked ceiling and the burnt carpet. "Maybe you would."

I swallowed the last of my donut. "It's not for long," I reminded him. "I should get the majority of the field work done today and then we can head back to Washington."

Booth shook his head. "Cullen called this morning while I was out. The Jeffersonian can't accept the remains of all the passengers. The badly burnt ones are being kept in a morgue about three miles away from here while the others are being identified in a makeshift morgue up at the crash site. Once you've recovered the rest of the remains today you've been assigned to the morgue to identify the burnt victims."

"So we stay here until I've finished?"

Booth nodded and turned to face me. He smiled softly and gestured to the side of his mouth. "You have a little sugar on your cheek." He watched as I tried to brush it off, his chocolate eyes fixed on me. Hesitantly he raised his hand and brushed the sugar away. His hand rest against my cheek for what was a little longer than necessary. "You look beautiful."

The huskiness of his voice surprised me and sent a shiver down my spine. Booth's hand was still on my cheek and his face was inching closer to mine. My eyes dropped to his lips, so close that I could feel his ragged breath on my face. I inched my body closer to his.

The shrill beep of my cellphone surprised me and I backed away quickly. Booth's hand dropped from my cheek but the skin still felt warm. I stood and scrambled for my phone, pressing the button and breathlessly holding it to my ear.

"Brennan."

There was silence on the other end, a slight hesitation. "Sweetie, is that you?" Angela Montenegro's voice sounded distant and the line crackled slightly.

"Yeah, Ange, it's me. What's up." I turned my back to Booth, who sat on the edge of the sofa, hands on his knees. My face felt flushed.

"Did I interrupt something?" Angela asked, ignoring my question. "You sound...breathless."

I cleared my throat. "I was just having breakfast, that's all. Nothing important." Liar.

"Oh, okay. I just wanted to see if you had any idea when you were heading back."

I told Angela the plans that Booth had told me about earlier. "I probably won't be back before the weekend."

Angela was appeased by this, and she wished me luck before ending the phone call. I placed the phone carefully on the vanity and turned to face Booth. He averted his gaze from me when he saw me looking at him. Sighing, I headed to the bathroom to shower and change.