"So, anyone got a plan on how to get him to Brennan's car?" asked Hodgins staring down at the prone FBI agent. Temperance had gone back to her office to get some work to take to Booth's apartment with her and had left her brain trust with the vexing problem of how to move Booth. Angela snapped her fingers,
"Wheelchair!"
"And just where are we going to get a wheelchair?" Hodgins shot back, annoyed that he hadn't thought of that.
"There are always a couple folded up by the main doors. Dr. Goodman told me they're there incase of an emergency."
"Alright then, I'll go get a wheelchair; Zach, you stay here."
"I wasn't planning on moving."
"Good, well don't."
Tempe quickly packed up her laptop and the assorted files she'd been working on. She couldn't believe what had just happened. No, actually, she could, it was a distinctly 'Booth' thing to do – work until you collapse. Truth be told, it sounded very much like something she'd do as well. Only Tempe had a far harder time getting away with it because Ange was always popping in at unexpected times to check on her and make sure Tempe wasn't working too much.
Stuffing all of her work into her black shoulder bag, Tempe hurried out of her office just in time to witness Zach, Hodgins, and Angela attempt to get a semi-conscious Booth into a wheelchair.
"No, I c'n walk," Booth mumbled struggling to stand up. Tempe sighed and jogged on the flight of stairs to help her crew.
"I'm jus' fine," Booth repeated, not noticing Tempe's appearance at his side. She sighed; there was only one way they were going to get him in that wheelchair,
"Zach, Hodgins, let him stand up." The two men gaped at her along with Angela. Booth just half smiled,
"See? Finally a voice of reason. I-" His words were cut short as Zach and Hodgins hoisted the agent to his feet. Booth groaned as the world began to spin and dip again and half collapsed into the wheelchair of his own accord.
"You win," he grumbled pressing a trembling hand to his forehead. Tempe glanced down at him worriedly as Hodgins began to wheel Booth out towards the parking lot. She needed to get him home and to bed very, very quickly. Brennan bit her lip as she tried to decide on the best course of action once she got him home, but as they reached the parking lot a loud voice interrupted her thoughts,
"What the hell is going on here?" Cullen came striding towards her angrily.
"Sir!" Booth automatically tried to stand up, but with even less success than his previous attempt and he crumpled back into his seat with a moan. Cullen barely glanced at him, choosing his usual course of action instead – blame the squint.
"What have you been doing to my agent?" he snarled barely inches away from Tempe's face.
"I haven't done anything to Booth."
"Oh, don't try and get cute with me. You've obviously done something to him!"
"Actually," Brennan snapped out of irritation with Cullen and her worry for Booth, "It's more what your agent has been doing to himself."
"What?"
"He's extremely sick, but was too stubborn to admit the fact and came in today anyway," she glared at Cullen, "He then proceeded to faint going down one of the Jeffersonian's longest flight of stairs and fall down them, hence, the wheelchair."
"Oh," Cullen shifted on his feet uncomfortably. "And you're what? Taking him home?"
"Yes."
"Well then, in light of the circumstances, carry on." Cullen walked swiftly away, an embarrassed look on his face.
"Should I applaud or something?" asked Hodgins, grinning. Tempe flashed him a quick smile back, then refocused her attention on Booth,
"Come on, let's get him to the car!"
A/N: Review, review, review! It is your review upon which I thrive and am inspired to write more! Lots more!