Thank you mendenbar, so far you have been my only consistent reviewer. I get the feeling that I am not as good a writer as I thought:(.

Trev

Cam said, "You do know we never used this X-ray machine on a living person before, right?"

I stared up at her, "You do know that I was launched into China on an ICBM, right?" That HAD BEEN THE BEST RIDE EVER!

Cam blinked, and apparently decided to hear the rest later, because she said, "All righty, let's hope we don't sterilize you. Good luck."

I shrugged. I hadn't been laid since I was nineteen, and my PTSD always reared it's ugly head when I was about to. So what did it matter?

I leaned back on the metal table. Oddly, it was more comfortable that the tables in some of the doctors I had seen. Especially my shrinks's. Yes plural. They're like my handlers. I get a new one every month or so because by then I send them running to the hills. The only one that I had a consistent contact with was the one that did my psych evals.

I heard the machine whirl and click and hum. I tried not to think of it shooting poison into my guts. It had been painful enough to sit down flat on the thing because my arm had sort of frozen to being bent and didn't like being straightened out. Plus, the grad student Wendell dropped me while helping me down, causing my broken ribs to explode in pain. I think I might have spooked him with my death threats.

When the machine stopped and the X-ray complete, no one came within twenty feet of me. I called out, "A little help here."

Booth gave me the look he always gives me when he thinks I'm being an idiot, "You just threatened to beat Wendell to death with his own testicles."

"So?"

"So people don't like it when you do that," he explained, "At least when Bones makes social mistakes like that it's cute."

Brennan smiled, "Thanks, Booth."

Angela's head snapped up, "Did I just hear Booth call Brennan 'cute'?"

Cam stared at Booth in amazement as well, "I think we did."

Brennan looked confused, "Yes, Booth and I are now in a romantic relationship. Is that a problem."

Cam jabbed a thumb at the stunned visage of Angela, "Now it is," she said quickly before plugging her ears.

I should have copied her because Angela let out an ear-splitting scream. It anything sharp or could fire a bullet was near me, I would have thrown or shot it at her after I wasn't stunned anymore. I had enough injuries without adding 'Busted Eardrum' to the list.

Angela bear-hugged the now deaf couple, "Oh, I am so happy for you two!" She stepped back, "Oh I've been waiting years for this to happen! You two make such a good couple! Other than me and Jack!"

"You and Dr Hodgins are back together?" She asked.

Booth cleared his throat, "They got married while you were still in your coma. Technically, you were there, it was in your hospital room."

"Oh," she blinked in surprise, "I am sure it was a lovely ceremony."

"Booth put rice in your hand and made you throw it," she said sadly.

Brennan smiled, "Thank you, Booth. It was a nice gesture."

Booth smiled, "Your welcome Bones."

I whistled, I turned to Cam, who was examining my X-rays, "Is their always this much drama?"

Cam smiled, "Actually, I think this day is light on drama."

"How?"

"Well," she chuckled, "Booth's Evil Twin hasn't come through the door yet."

I smiled too. Cam I could joke with, "True," I examine my X-rays, "My capitulum is hyper extended, as is my ankle along with breaks in ribs left nine and eight."

Cam raised her eyebrow, "Good call. How'd you learn that?"

"You're not the only one with a Medical Degree."

"Then why do you need me?" she asked suspiciously.

"Because my medical specialty is killing people," I told her, "And I wouldn't want me treating me if I were... me?"

She held up a hand as if stopping a car, "I'm not even going to try to follow you there."

"Good call."

She started making notes, "Ibuprofen for the pain and swelling, sling for your arm, and wrap your chest for the ribs," she motioned me to sit up. I did so, wincing in the slight pain, "Off with you shirt," she commanded as she picked up some gauze wrap.

I carefully pulled my shirt off. Cam turned around and gasped, "Oh God."

I can say this: I had a tough career. The ugly black and purple broken rib wasn't the worst of it. My left shoulder was covered in a burn scar. An ugly, ropy knife scar slashed across my right pec. The rest of me was covered in a assortment of bullet and knife scars. I looked like something from a child's nightmare.

"Black ops ain't the safest of jobs," I said, "These are the ones that I didn't have surgery fix."

Cam still stared openly at me. Finally she pointed to the most obvious, the burn on my shoulder, "What's this one from?"

"Philippines," I said, "Terrorist weapons cache. Got caught in a firefight as a barrel of napalm caught."

She pointed to one that was a centimeter from my heart. I answered, "St Louis. Mafia Don was smuggling Mossad operatives operating on US soil into and out of the country. State Department didn't like that. He carried a hidden .22. Thing missed my heart by a centimeter."

Cam asked, "I thought Israel was our ally."

"We don't like Mossad here anymore than they like CIA there," I said. She pointed to the one on my right pec, "Infiltrated a fight club. One of them didn't take too kindly to being beaten. Surprised me with a box cutter," Lower abdomen, "9mm. That one, a Leroy Jethro Gibbs gave me. He is an NCIS Agent, and I killed four terrorists in Annapolis Navy Academy. They didn't want the press getting wind of terrorist infiltrating a Service Academy," I smiled. I had gotten even. Concussions cause big headaches. She pointed to one at my side, "Inexperienced assassin. Missed my kidneys by a good inch."

She nodded, still speechless. She began to wrap my torso tightly with the gauze. She was silent the whole time. Booth, Brennan and Angela were still talking animatedly about whatever the hell people talk about relationships.

I asked, "Spill. What is it that freaks you out? The scars."

She shook her head, "I have seen bodies of those thrust into wood chippers, stuffed in wine caskets, manure piles," she shook her head again, "Yet, I didn't think I could see a person's body so damaged and have them still be alive."

I laughed a little, "Yeah well, it's worth it."

"How," she asked, "How can this be worth it?"

"You got kids, Dr Saroyan?" I asked.

She nodded, "Sixteen-year-old daughter."

I pulled out the photo I always carried from my pocket. I handed it to her, "I have a seven-year-old little girl named Jenny that doesn't even know I'm alive," I said, "I see people everyday that could and would kill her with out blinking if it means adding another notch to their gun. I kill them or I keep them away. For her, for my daughter, it is worth it."

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