Chapter 4

A couple minutes later, she heard the sirens directly behind her, and she called the paramedics over. They came carrying a stretcher which they immediately loaded him onto, placing an oxygen mask over his face and a stethoscope on his chest. "Pulse is steady," one announced.

"Okay, let's get him loaded," another said. Brennan started to follow them, but the first paramedic blocked her. "I'm sorry, ma'am, we don't have room."

She was going to protest, but she suddenly remembered Booth's instructions. "Where are you taking him?" she asked.

"Saint Mary's," one answered. Brennan nodded, and they shut the door before backing out the driveway, the siren still on. Brennan watched the ambulance go, silently telling herself that he would be okay.

The next hour passed in a blur for Brennan. As soon as the cops arrived, she gave them Booth's instructions before taking the SUV to Saint Mary's. She smiled slightly, thinking that she finally was able to drive Booth's car. She only wished it was under better circumstances.

She asked a nurse at the front for his location, and the older woman regarded her critically. "Are you a relation?" she inquired.

"I'm his power of attorney," Brennan answered truthfully.

"Room 309," the nurse finally said after a few seconds of deliberation.

"Thanks." Brennan turned and quickly made her way to the elevator. When she reached room 309, a doctor was exiting, and they nearly collided.

"Who are you?" the doctor inquired.

"I'm his partner," Brennan explained. "And power of attorney. How is he?"

"He's doing fine. I gave him a local anesthetic so that I could remove the bullet from his arm, so he's probably not feeling much pain right now, but it's going to hurt like hell in a few hours. I also stitched up his arm to stop the bleeding. He's awake now though he's still not exactly coherent; he keeps mumbling something about his bones. I assured him that his bones were fine, that the bullet didn't even touch them, but that doesn't seem to help."

"Can I see him?"

"Sure. The nurse is just bandaging him up now." The doctor stepped aside, allowing Brennan to enter the room. She saw Booth half sitting, half lying down on the hospital bed, large white bandages covering his shoulder. A young brunette nurse stood beside him.

"Now, these are going to have to be changed at least twice a day," she explained. "You're probably going to need some help with that." She smiled widely. "I have a fair amount of experience and would be willing to help if you need." She moved closer to him, her hand on his broad chest, and Brennan felt illogically jealous. She cleared her throat loudly, causing them both to look at her.

Booth's face split in a wide grin. "Bones!" he said, reaching out with his good arm. She approached and took his hand. "It's okay, I have someone to change them for me," he informed the nurse as his thumb began to caress the back of her hand.

The nurse now turned to Brennan. "Do you think you can manage or do you need me to explain-"

"I've changed enough bandages to know how to do it. I'll be fine."

"Okay." The nurse seemed skeptical. "Well, if you need anything, just call me," she told Booth, handing him a slip of paper. As she left the room, Brennan turned to Booth, her eyebrows raised. He shrugged.

"What can I say? It must be the charm smile."

"What did she give you?"

"Her number." He held up the paper. "Not that I plan on using it. I have the only nurse I ever want right here." He used their linked hands to bring her closer so that he could kiss her lips. "Speaking of that, would you mind wearing a nurse's uniform? You know, short skirt, white jacket, that little hat?"

"Why would I ever do that?"

He laughed. "Never mind, Bones. It was a joke."

"I don't get it."

"I know. That's why I love you." He kissed her again. As they pulled apart, they heard the unmistakable voice of Angela coming down the hallway. Quickly, Brennan moved away from him, and he dropped her hand just as her friend breezed through the door. Angela quickly surveyed the room, seeming somewhat relieved to find both Booth and Brennan conscious.

"I heard Booth was shot."

"In the shoulder," Booth said. "It didn't do any major damage. I'm just going to have a sling for a few weeks." He glared at the offending object.

"But you're going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine, Angela. It wasn't even my dominant hand."

Angela sighed. "You really need to stop getting yourself shot," she told him.

"If he didn't insist on always playing the hero-" Brennan began

"Save it, Bones. No matter how much you complain, I'm always going to protect you. So you might as well get used to it." He groaned as he pushed himself out of the bed. "Come on. Let's fill out the discharge paperwork and get out of here."

It was nearing dinner time by the time they reached the lab again. Cam and Hodgins immediately approached the three, inquiring about Booth's condition. He showed them the sling, assuring them that he would be fine. "Bones has some dirt for you, Hodgins," Booth announced. "We're going to get some dinner before interviewing a suspect if anyone wants to come." The scientists all looked at each other before setting their equipment aside and following Booth and Brennan out the door.

An hour later, Booth sat in an interrogation room with Jason Earl directly across from him and Brennan beside him, her posture unusually stiff, even for her. "You lied to us, Mr. Earl," Booth said, his voice dangerously low and calm.

"I didn't lie," he argued.

"You're doing it again. Let me let you in on a secret." Booth leaned closer to the older man. "I really don't like when people lie to me," he said.

"I told you, I wasn't lyin'."

"You really don't get this, do you, Mr. Earl? We know that your brother was at your house. We found his truck next to the shed in your yard. He shot at us." Booth indicated his arm. "And if there's one thing I like even less than people lying to me, it's people shooting at my partner and I."

"Look, he just showed up 'bout a week ago. Said he'd give me a thousand dollars if I let him stay at my house for a couple days and not tell anyone about it. It was good money, so I agreed."

"The rocking chair in the shed indicates that he's been there longer."

"That old thing? That's not his; it's mine. Our father taught us both how to work with wood when we was younga. I been workin' on that for a few months now, but I never really have the time to finish it."

"I'm going to ask you again, Mr. Earl. Where is your brother?"

"I don't know."

"You've lied to me before. I'm not inclined to believe you."

"Look, like I said, he only stayed for a couple days, then he disappeared again. He came back again yesterday, said he needed to stay for a couple more days. I didn't know he was goin' to shoot at you, really. I just thought he needed some place to lay low and avoid an angry wife or girlfriend or somethin'."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Look, man, I swear to you, that's the truth."

"Do you have any way of proving that to me?"

"I get a lawyer, right?" Booth nodded. "Then I want one."

A couple minutes later, Booth and Brennan stood in the observation room, watching Jason Earl fidgeting nervously at the interrogation table. Booth sighed. "I don't think he's involved. I think he's probably telling the truth; his brother is just using him because his house is a convenient place to hide for a little while since it's so far from civilization. And it puts him fairly close to you." Booth looked at her.

"He must have another place somewhere," Brennan pointed out logically. "He has to have been staying somewhere for the past ten years."

"Hopefully Hodgins can give us something from the dirt from the tires."

"I also want to get a closer look at the body now that Fisher has it cleaned. There may be something which was previously hidden by the charring of the bones."

Booth nodded. "I can hold onto him for twenty-four hours. I'll go ahead and let him sweat for a little bit, and we can come back to him later if we need to."

When they reached the lab, Brennan immediately grabbed her lab coat and slid her arms into it as she headed for the central platform. Booth turned toward Hodgins' office, finding the scientist typing furiously at his computer. "Got anything for me, Bug Man?" Booth inquired, leaning over Hodgins shoulder.

"I'm working on analyzing the soil sample you brought right now. There are an interesting mix of particulates in it."

"Interesting good or interesting bad?"

"Interesting good. It's a fairly distinctive mix of limestone, dolomite, and sandstone. There was also pollen from Abeis balsamea, the Picea rubens and the Rhamnus alnifolia."

"Fascinating. What does that tell me?"

"Well, Abeis balsamea can be used as a Christmas tree."

"I don't care. I want to know where the truck was recently."

"Well, Rhamnus alnifolia is actually fairly uncommon, so it suggests that the truck was most recently somewhere in this area." Hodgins pulled up a map of the eastern United States with a small area in West Virginia highlighted in red.

"You can't get any more specific than that?" Booth questioned, noticing that the area was around twenty-five square miles. Hodgins shook his head.

"Sorry, man, but this is the best I could do. It's mostly wooded area though I bet there are a number of vacation cabins in the area. My bet is that he's staying in one of those."

"Okay. Thanks, Hodgins." Booth left the office and made his way back out into the central lab area. Brennan was already engrossed in the skeleton on the platform; he smiled at her before taking a seat in front of the same computer he had used earlier where he could work and still keep watch over Brennan. Using Brennan's credentials, he started the computer and began searching for a location in the area Hodgins had indicated where Brett Earl might be staying.

An hour and a half later, he still had not found any piece of property anywhere in the area under Brett Earl's name or the name of any of his family members. Frustrated, Booth shut down the computer and walked up to the platform. Except for the security guard standing outside the glass doors, his back turned to the partners, the lab was deserted. Angela, Hodgins, Cam, and Fisher had all left at least an hour before after he had assured them that there was no further help they could give that night. Walking up behind Brennan, he put his hand on her hip and pressed a kiss against her neck. She jumped slightly at the initial contact before relaxing back against him as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Come on, Bones, it's getting late. We should get out of here."

"I'm not quite finished yet."

"Bones." Booth put his good hand on her shoulders and spun her around to face him. "Whatever you need to do, you can do it tomorrow. You're not going to be at all productive if you're tired."

"I'm not tired, Booth," she protested.

"Bones." He covered her hands with his right one. "Come home."

She looked up at him, wondering what he meant by home. After all, they still had separate apartments, so home for him was different than home for her, was it not? But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that her apartment was not truly her home. Sure, it was the place where she lived, but home, home was something different. She did not know exactly what it was, but she knew it was something she had not had in awhile. She supposed it was a feeling of belonging, a feeling that a certain place was where she was meant to be. As irrational as it was, she knew that was home. And for her, that place was with Booth. He was the one who made her feel like she belonged, the one who made sure that she was happy and cared for. For her, Booth was home.

"Fine," she agreed, stripping off her gloves. He smiled triumphantly as she also shed her lab coat. With an arm around her waist, he led her from the lab.

They drove to Booth's apartment. When he stopped the car, she looked at him with her eyebrows raised. He simply shrugged. "He knows where you live, Bones. But he doesn't know where I live. This will just make you harder to find."

"I don't have any clothes."

"Sure you do. You left some at my apartment a couple weeks ago. They're still in my closet. And your toothbrush is still here, too, so there are no excuses." As Brennan followed him out of the car, she wondered when she had started leaving her possessions at his apartment. There was an intimacy in the act, in the knowledge that when she slept over at his house, it was not necessary for her to pack anything, for everything she needed was already there. She was not sure if this knowledge comforted or scared her. She knew that she had never before been comfortable enough with any guy she was dating to leave clothes and a toothbrush at his apartment. On the few occasions when she did spend the night, she would always rush back home the next morning to prepare for work.

"I can see the wheels turning," Booth remarked as they stepped onto the elevator.

"What wheels?" Brennan asked.

"It's an expression. It means I can tell you're thinking hard about something."

"It's nothing, really."

"Hmm. You know, Bones, I have a couple suits at your apartment, too. And the blue toothbrush is mine." And with that, he turned away from her, and they spent the rest of the elevator ride in silence.

When they entered his apartment, he made a beeline for the kitchen and dug around in the freezer for a minute before pulling out a carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream. She smiled when she saw it; he knew it was her favorite. "Can I interest you in a bowl?" he inquired, pulling a scoop from one of the kitchen drawers.

"That sounds good," she agreed. He dished her up a generous portion of the ice cream, placing a spoon in the bowl before passing it to her. She took it from him and gratefully brought the first spoonful to her mouth, letting her eyes slide shut in pleasure. It was a great way to wind down after a particularly grueling day. When she opened her eyes, she found him watching her closely. "Aren't you going to get some, too?" she questioned.

"I figured we could share," he answered.

"What if I don't want to share?"

"Hmm, I think we could rectify that." Leaning forward, he kissed her soundly, invading her mouth with his tongue. He swept the smooth muscle around her mouth slowly, and she moaned softly. When he pulled away, he was wearing a goofy grin. "Tastes pretty good," he announced. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Do you want some?" she offered, holding the spoon out to him. He cocked his head to the side, considering for a moment, before taking the spoon from her. Carefully, he scooped a bite of ice cream onto the utensil. Instead of bringing it to his own mouth, however, he held it out to her. She raised her eyebrows, refusing to open her mouth at first, but he continued to insist, and she eventually acquiesced, parting her lips enough to allow him to slide the spoon between them.

"That was supposed to be for you," she remarked as she swallowed.

"I'll get the next bite," he said, handing the spoon back to her. She rolled her eyes but still scooped a bite of ice cream onto the spoon and held it out to him. Leaning forward, he captured the whole spoon in his mouth, easily licking it clean, his eyes never leaving hers. She knew that logically, the act of feeding each other was a form of overused foreplay, the type she had once scoffed at, but she could not help the flutter of desire which was rapidly growing in her stomach. His eyes were dark as he removed his lips from the spoon, his tongue emerging from his mouth to remove a few spare drops of ice cream from his lips. Brennan swallowed hard.

Again, his good hand covered hers as he removed the spoon, holding out another bite for her to take. She brought it into her mouth with slow deliberation, watching his eyes darken further so that his pupils were barely visible. His finger reached out to catch an errant drop of ice cream, swiping it from her upper lip before bringing it to his mouth. Before he could take the finger into his mouth, however, Brennan stopped the motion of his hand, tugging it toward her again. Carefully, she brought it into her mouth, licking the sticky treat from the digit. He moaned slightly, leaning forward. Brennan stopped his movement with a hand on his chest.

"We still haven't finished the ice cream," she pointed out. Booth groaned. This woman was going to be the death of him; he knew that. Without hesitation, she hopped up onto the counter in front of him, taking the ice cream into her hands. She held out a second bite to Booth which he took and swallowed without hesitation. There was no longer a reason to prolong the experience; he was already aroused enough, and he could tell from the slight flush of her cheeks that she was, too. Again taking the spoon from her, he fed her a third bite, letting his hand brush against her inner thigh as he moved it toward her mouth. He heard her sharp inhalation of breath and smiled slyly. Let's see if she still wanted to finish the entire bowl of ice cream once he was through with her.

He had to hand it to her; she certainly had an impressive amount of self-control. As soon as she had finished the bite, she took the spoon from him to feed him again. While he licked the spoon clean, she let her second hand trail down his chest, giving him a taste of his own medicine, once more continuing the game of give and take that was so ubiquitous in their relationship. He groaned. It really was not fair that she had the use of both hands.

The bites were growing larger now in their attempt to finish the bowl of ice cream as soon as possible. Neither was willing to stop until the bowl was empty, however, for such an action would be akin to admitting defeat, something they simply could not do. No, they would tough it out until the end even if it killed them. This time, when Booth took the spoon from Brennan, he let his knuckles brush the seam of her pants between her legs, feeling the heat of her desire through the fabric. He saw her body jerk forward slightly in reaction, but she still refused to give in, instead simply opening her mouth so she could take the ice cream from the spoon. Some of the melted ice cream slid off the spoon and onto the side of his hand. Leaning forward, she stuck out her tongue and used it to remove the dripping ice cream. Dammit, why did she have to do that? Booth moaned, barely registering as she took the spoon from his hand. His mouth opened automatically when she brought it to his lips.

They continued in that manner for the next few bites, teasing one another as they worked their way through the bowl of ice cream. Their desire had built to an almost unbearable level, and Booth was finding it increasingly difficult to form a coherent thought. "Last bite," Brennan told him, taking a final spoonful of ice cream from the bowl. Their eyes locked as she brought the spoon to his lips.

"How about we share it?" he questioned, taking the ice cream into his mouth before crushing his lips to hers. Their tongues tangled together as the taste of ice cream flooded both their mouths. Booth's good hand moved to the collar of her blouse. He fumbled with the button for a moment, cursing when he realized how difficult it was to undo the buttons one-handed. He grunted in frustration, his movements growing more harried. Brennan stilled his hand before he could completely ruin the blouse. Quickly, she undid all the buttons herself, dropping her arms so that the blouse slid from her shoulders. His shirt came off next, and she slid down from the counter, pressing their bodies together without breaking the kiss.

Awhile later, they stood together, breathing heavily, the sweat on their bodies slowly cooling in the air conditioned room. Booth leaned his forehead against hers, placing his good arm on the counter beside her to support himself. "Sorry. That can't have been the most comfortable position," he apologized.

She leaned forward and kissed him soundly. "Don't worry; it was fine." Leaning forward, she whispered in his ear, "I'm beginning to like this whole christening thing." He smiled.

"What do you say we christen the bedroom?"

"I believe that's already been christened. Many times."

"Well, we can always christen it again." He grabbed her hand, and they walked together to the bedroom.