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Booth noticed, albeit belatedly, that Brennan was still completely dressed in black slacks, cotton shirt and a tight black jacket. He ran a hand softly down one of her arms and the paused for a second. What if she woke up whilst he was… undressing her? Would she mind, or even care that he was undressing her, making her more comfortable. He deliberated a second longer before removing her tight jacket and hanging it over the back of her chair, smoothing the soft material still warm with the remnants of her body-heat. As quietly as he could, he rummaged around in her drawer for a nightshirt and unbuttoned her shirt, pulling the over-large nightshirt over her head, soothing her as she awoke for a second.

'Temperance?' He murmured soothingly, stroking her hair softly with one hand.

'B-Booth? You stayed?'

'You bet I did. Can you take off your slacks, I feel weird doing it and you can't sleep like that.' Brennan looked down and tried to undo her slacks with hands trembling with grief and failed miserably. Booth looked at her and she begged him with her eyes, looking pathetically up at him through eyelashes matted with tears. He quickly removed them and cast his gaze around the room, resting on a blanket hanging part of the way out of her wardrobe and walked towards it. She pulled the nightshirt down and let him drape the blanket around her trembling shoulders.

'Get some sleep.' He whispered, kissing her forehead softly. He left her room and waited until he heard her breathing alter with sleep. He shut the door with a muted click and slipped like a shadow into her kitchen, musing slightly over what he would and could cook. He browsed her cupboards until he found something he could cook. Pasta. How far wrong can you go with pasta and a jar of sauce?

oOo

Booth was juggling cooking and keeping one ear open for Brennan when her phone rang.

'Shit! That was just what I needed!' He muttered, adjusting the pan of boiling pasta on the stove before leaping for the phone.

'Brennan's phone.'

'Booth?' Cams' somewhat surprised voice sounded down the phone.

'Yes? Brennan can't come to the phone at the moment. May I take a message?'

'Booth? What the hell?!' Cams surprised tone crackled down the line to him; and he could almost see her standing in the corridor, looking around in surprise as she heard his voice coming towards her through the phone line.

'As I said, Brennan can't come to the phone. I'm sorry.'

'Yes, I know, but why are you here?' Booth had no answer to that, and waited for Cam to start speaking again.

'I… went to see her and… oh crap! One second!' Booth darted around the kitchen and turned down the pasta bubbling over on the stove, scalding a small area of skin on his hand as he did so.

'Okay… what was that?' Cam asked. Booth gave a resigned sigh, knowing he couldn't lie to his friend.

'I'm… cooking?' He added hopefully as Cam spluttered.

'Cooking!?' Booths culinary expertise, or lack thereof, was renowned in the team and throughout the entire Jeffersonian.

'Yes, cooking.'

'Okay now I'm worried.'

'Fine! I'm at Brennan's because she's had some bad news, and I'm making her feel better by being here, doing basic things. I'm being her friend!'

'What type of news?' Cam asked, irritated.

'Family related. Now if you don't mind…'

'I do mind! She has work to do, bones to examine, a team to work with! We need her, like now!' Cam exclaimed furiously.

'She's not coming in. She'll call you later. Goodbye, Cam.' Booth ended the call and resumed cooking, casting occasional glances towards Brennans' bedroom door. When he had sprinkled it with cheese and placed the pasta under the grill, he knocked softly on the panelled wood before slipping almost silently inside. She was still asleep; her hair was a snarled mess that was in desperate need of a brush and her eyes were tightly closed. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, taking her hand and squeezing it softly in order to waken her. Her eyelashes fluttered and she rolled over slightly, reciprocating the pressure he was exerting.

'I made you something to eat…'

'Thanks, it won't poison me will it?' She looked at him with frightened eyes, no trace of humour in them.

'I promise it won't.' Brennan sat up and let Booth pull her to her feet, let him warp his warm arm around her waist to keep her upright. He let her lean her head on his shoulder, let her wrap both of her arms around his waist and took her weight, leading her into the kitchen.

'I don't really feel like eating, or food in general right now.' She told him softly when she was sat down, rubbing her eyes in a vain attempt to hide the tears that were threatening to fall. Booth tactfully decided not to notice.

'You need to eat.'

'I know.' She tried to smile as he placed the plate in front of her, but the muscles in her face weren't responding.

'Cam called…' Booth was unaware of how to put it delicately, but he'd obviously phrased it wrong as her face turned a nasty ashy grey colour.

'Do they want me back at work…? I can't Booth, physically can't. I'm not ready yet… it's too fresh. I can't! I just can't!' She started to cry again, so Booth was by her side in an instant, wrapping his strong arms around her and comforting her with a soft touch on her shoulder blade.

'I said you'd phone her back later. Can you do that?' Brennan gave a tremulous nod.

'I can manage that. Give me the phone.' Booth smiled a little and handed her his cell, dialling Cam's number from memory. After two rings, Cam answered, her voice brisk and clipped.

'Booth?'

'Nice guess. You guys have a nice chat.' He silently handed the phone to Brennan, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

'Cam?' Brennans voice was weak, neatly inaudible.

'Brennan! Oh thank God, we need you!'

'I'm not coming in, I can't face it.'

'What do you mean?'

'I got a phone call today, from the police.'

'What's happened?'

'It's my brother…' Brennan gulped and trailed off, tears spilling down her cheeks again.

'Russ?'

'Y-yes.'

'What's happened to him?'

'He's been killed Cam.' Brennan folded the phone shut and slid out of her chair, heading for her bedroom. Booth ran after her, grabbing her hand. Angrily, she shoved him off, slamming the door in his face.

Grief makes you do strange things huh? Enjoyed? Tell me!