Title: The Morning After

Disclaimer: The same as the last chapter. Bones is not mine, no matter how hard I may wish.

Summery: A bit of discovery.

Author's Note: I couldn't believe it when I checked all the reviews for the first chapter. Thirty reviews! Now I have to continue, even if I didn't want to! If you have any ideas on what you think should happen, let me know. And please keep reviewing!

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After much debating, a bit of shouting and discovering, both had calmed down enough to think rationally. Sort of. Booth had found a slightly crumbled marriage certificate resting on the nightstand beside him. Both of their names were sloppily scrawled on it. Booth had also found a ring matching hers on his own hand. Being the crime solvers that they were; they tried to piece together what had happened the night before. But neither could remember a thing past midnight.

While Tempe balanced on the edge of the bed and tried to regain control of her breathing, Booth paced the room, occasionally raking his hand through his hair.

"What are we going to do?" Each of them had asked that question almost every two minutes.

"I don't know," The other answered each time.

Finally, Tempe's headache had begun to take control again, "Booth sit down. You're giving me whiplash." She wrapped her arms around her middle, feeling nauseous.

Booth plopped down on the bed about a foot away from her. He sighed heavily. They both lapsed into an uneasy, awkward silence.

Tempe looked over at Booth. He had pulled on a pair of faded, wrinkled blue jeans the rested at his hips, and a forest green button up shirt. He hadn't bothered with the buttons. She slid her gaze over his exposed torso and chest, much like she had the day he'd answered the door half dressed. She tried to block the image of Tessa strutting in, clad in his white shirt, a lacey black bra peeking out over the undone top buttons. Tempe looked down at herself, still clothed in his oversized tee. Ironic, she thought.

Booth looked over at Tempe. He could feel her studying him, so he studied her right back. She looked small, swathed in his shirt. She had tugged the dark blue fabric down over her knees, then began to pluck at a loose thread in the hem. She looked vulnerable, may even a little scared. He didn't want her to be scared though the pit of his stomach was in knots. He wasn't sure how everything had happened, but he wasn't sure what to do about it either.

"What are you thinking?" Tempe asked, unable to sit through his stares and the silence any longer. She needed something other than how sick she was feeling to think about.

"I was thinking that you look much better in that shirt than I do," The words popped out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them.

"What!" She exclaimed, startled.

Booth mentally kicked himself. Why didn't he think before he spoke? He hoped her exclamation was rhetorical. It wasn't.

"Why did you say that?" Her voice had almost returned to normal from the previous shock.

Booth scooted over closer to her, "Because it's true. "

Tempe's knee brushed against Booth's. Strangely, the contact didn't feel foreign. It felt familiar. Tempe's already speeding heart revved up. At the same time her heart pumped because of his touch, her mind was reacting to his statement. She didn't feel pretty at the moment. Right now, she felt like she was going to throw up.

He knew what she was going to do. She was uncomfortable with the topic, so she was going to change it to one she felt more comfortable with. One where she was more in control.

"What are we going to do about our present situation?" She asked, then her fingers reached up and touched her throat. Booth was taken aback by how pale she looked.

"Bones, do you feel okay?"

She shook her head, "Where's the bathroom?"

"Right through that door," He pointed for her.

She leapt to her feet and bolted. She tried to close the door behind her, but the latch didn't quite catch. He could hear her retching.

"Do you need any help Bones?" He got off the bed, and tapped his knuckles against the door.

"No," Was the feeble response. She began to retch again. Booth stood at the door for as long as he could stand. Then, he pushed the door open, and entered the room. He felt something inside him twist as he looked at Bones, huddled on the floor by the toilet, her arms propped up on the seat, her body shaking from the heaves. In two strides, he was beside her. He knelt down, and gently stroked her hair back from her tearstained face. She glanced over at him, her eyes apologetic.

"Don't be sorry," He admonished, rubbing her back, "Everyone gets sick sometimes."

"I didn't mean to," She whispered.

"Shh… It's okay, it's okay," He murmured soothingly. He kept rubbing her back as she continued to empty the contents of her stomach.

When she was finished, she collapsed limply against him. Her eyelids drooped, and she shook visibly. Booth slid his arms around her, cradling her against him.

Tempe's eyes opened as he scooped her up off the floor and carried her back to the bed. A startled squeak came from her as she tried to keep the shirt from riding up any further.

"Easy Bones," He laid he gently on the bed, and then pulled the blankets up over her.

"No," She managed, making weak attempts to push back the blankets and get up. The pressure of Booth's hands on her shoulders stopped her.

"You need some sleep," He drew the covers over her, "It'll make you feel better."

She made some indistinguishable noise. On an impulse, he bent over her and brushed his lips softly across her forehead.

"Sleep well Temperance," He crossed the room quietly and flicked off the light. He left the door open a crack so he could hear her if she needed him.

After a final look in at her, curled up in the fetal position, Booth crept downstairs, in search of coffee and aspirin. He may not feel like he would be sick, but he had a nice headache that had situated itself right behind his eyes.

When Tempe awoke again, she was at first disoriented, her head ached, her limbs ached, and she had no idea where she was. As the fog that permeated her brain began to wear off, the situation became clearer. She remembered the scene in the bathroom, remembered Booth putting her to bed. Remembered waking up the first time with his arm around her, remembered finding a marriage certificate on the nightstand.

Sitting up and stretching in bed, she saw a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand. How thoughtful, she thought, reaching for the glass and taking a sip. She uncapped the aspirin bottle, and shook a few out onto her palm, swallowing them with another sip of the water.

From the hallway, she watched as Booth hummed to himself as he carefully lifted the poached egg from the pan. The toast popped, and he twisted at the waist, taking the bread from the toaster.

"Are you gonna watch me all day from the corner?" He asked, placing each piece of toast on a plate, the egg on a piece of toast, and setting the plate on the counter.

Embarrassed, Tempe entered the room, taking a seat on one of the stools that stood by the counter. He nudged the plate to her,

"Eat, it'll make you feel better."

Tempe waited for her stomach to turn over at the smell, but it didn't. Instead, it growled. Hungrily, she picked up a fork and dug in.

Picking up his own plate, Booth braced his behind against the counter behind him, and began to eat.

"Thank-you."

Booth looked up from his plate, "For what?"

"For this morning, for when I got sick," Tempe played with the remaining bits of egg on her plate, "It was very sweet of you."

"Your welcome," Booth smiled softly.

Neither could meet the others eyes.