Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.
A/N: As pointed out to me, this story takes place during Two Bodies in the Lab (not the Morgue)! Oops...
Special Agent Seeley Booth knew that he should probably be waking up, but his mind was pleasantly drifting on the narrow boundary between wakefulness and unconsciousness and Booth had a feeling that he would not be nearly so comfortable once he gained full awareness. Why would that be? Booth struggled to remember what had happened before he'd fallen asleep – he had the nagging feeling that it had been something very important…. Dim memories of Bones's apartment drifted to the surface of his mind. He had been worried about her safety after the shooting – that must have been why he was at her apartment…. They'd been listening to music…. That irritating bastard, David, that Bones had met on the internet phoned…. Booth had gone over to the fridge to get something… then a loud bang… and nothing. A loud bang… it must have been some sort of explosion…. Bones! Was Bones alright? What had happened to her?
At that thought, Booth's eyes snapped open. Well, they actually slowly parted in the irritating manner eyes tend to use after extended periods of unconsciousness. The room he was in slowly swam into focus just as the pain hit him. Every inch of his body screamed at once; some more noticeably than others. He could almost hear Bones in his head listing the name of every bone in the human body then telling him that bones don't scream. Seeley quickly scanned the hospital room for his favorite forensic anthropologist trying not to move his head. Where was she? A slight stirring on the edge of his peripheral vision caught Booth's attention and glancing to his right, the F.B.I. agent quietly let out the breathe he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Curled up in the chair right next to Booth's bed was the stubborn doctor herself and she appeared to be miraculously unscathed. How long had Bones been sitting there? …How long had he been unconscious?
Bones stirred again, and then sat up rubbing her eyes and stifling a yawn. She glanced over at Booth and smiled when she saw he was awake. Booth tried to return the smile, but stopped when his face protested.
"Hey, Bones," his voice was hoarse and annoyingly quiet from dehydration.
"Hey," Bones looked stressed and fatigued and her clothes had the rumpled appearance of being slept in.
"You alright? What happened?"
"You got blown up. Apparently, there was a bomb wired in my refrigerator to go off when the door was opened," she said the words in the detached, matter-of-fact, scientific manner that she used when she discussed murder victims.
"But you, are you alright?"
"Yes, Booth, I'm fine."
That was close… too close, Booth thought. As soon as I get my hands on a phone, I'm calling Kenton to keep an eye on her. I could have lost her today and I nearly did…. I don't know what I'd do without her….
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