Thank you for the encouraging reviews. There is still some interest in this story and I'm glad.

I don't own Bones.

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Two and a half weeks after Booth's brain surgery, he found himself sitting in his doctor's office, fidgeting. Staring at his surgeon, Booth tried to remain calm, "So Doc, is this going to hurt?"

Shaking his head, Dr. Reed smiled, "Most of my patients say they don't feel anything. It depends upon how much sensation has returned in your scalp. You will feel a tugging sensation though as I pull out the staples. Some patients have told me that it kind of tickles."

Relieved but curious, Booth turned and stared at Brennan, "You can see it Bones. Does it look bad?"

Checking the site, Brennan assured him, "No, not at all. Actually, it looks like a miniature rail road track. Would you like me to take a picture of it so you can see it for yourself?"

A feeling of nausea fluttering in his stomach, Booth closed his eyes and muttered, "Terrific. No, thanks. I don't need to see it."

Dr. Reed, standing next to Booth, smiled at Brennan, "I'm going to wipe some alcohol across the area and then . . . Holding up an implement, he held it down so Booth could see it, "I'm going to use this to pull the staples out."

Opening his eyes and staring at the pliers, Booth clenched his hands and remarked, "Okay, Doc, I'm ready when you are."

Trying to ease Booth's nervousness, Dr. Reed started a conversation, "So, Seeley I know you work for the FBI. That sounds like an interesting job."

The alcohol soaked gauze moved around the wound causing Booth to become tense, "Yeah, it has it's moments."

Throwing the gauze away, Dr. Reed picked up the pliers and started removing staples, "I served in the Army between high school and college. My Dad was career Army and I just wanted to do my bit before starting college."

Not sure he liked the feel of the staples tugging his skin as they came out, Booth tried to focus on the doctor's words, "Oh yeah, I was in the Army myself, I served in the Rangers."

Moving steadily, the surgeon removed the staples, "Hey, me too. Rangers lead the way."

The tugging starting to hurt, Booth complained, "That's starting to kind of hurt a little."

Nodding his head, Dr. Reed continued his staple removal, "Just hold still, it won't be much longer. So, have you been having any problems? Memory problems, headaches, anything unusual?"

Distracted, Booth thought about it and finally responded, "My head itches around the staples. It feels like ants marching around my skin. I've wanted to scratch it, but so far I've kept my hands away from it . . . . I have headaches, but Bones says that's normal and not to worry about it. I'm tired all of the time. My memory is . . . uh, it's okay I think. Maybe. Do I still have to take those prescriptions you gave me?"

Concerned about Booth's evasive answer about his memory, Dr. Reed stared at Brennan who shrugged her shoulders.

Still removing the staples, Dr. Reed answered, "Yes it's important that you continue the anticonvulsant and steroids. How about anger or depression? How are you emotionally?"

Glancing at Brennan, Booth frowned, "Maybe a little depressed; but, Bones says that's normal. I'm being a kind of a pain in the ass, but Bones says that's normal too."

The last staple removed, Dr. Reed showed Booth the pile of staples resting in the cloth he was holding, "See, all out."

Staring at the staples, Booth was surprised, "Hey no blood."

Used to that reaction, Dr. Reed smiled, "No, no blood. You can wash your hair today but you have to be very careful around the suture site. Don't scrub the ants away or you'll be back here and we both know you don't want that to happen."

Relieved that he could wash his hair, Booth smiled, "Thank God as long as I can do something about the itching. I'll be careful."

Laughing, Brennan remarked, "I suppose I know what we're going to be doing as soon as we get home."

Wiggling his eye brows, Booth responded, "You know it. I'm going to wash my hair for an hour or maybe two."

Alarmed, Brennan asked him, "An hour?"

Aware that he'd scared her, Booth laughed it off, "Well, maybe not an hour. I was just joking."

Sitting on a chair next to Booth, Dr. Reed asked, "Are you having any memory problems, Seeley? If you are then you need to let me know."

Not sure what to say, Booth shrugged his shoulders, "How would I know? If you can't remember something then you don't know it do you?"

Glancing at Brennan and then back at Booth, the surgeon responded, "Are you married to Dr. Brennan?"

Annoyed with question, Booth glanced at the door and shook his head.

Staring at Brennan, Dr. Reed shook his head.

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Brennan, wanting to make sure that Booth didn't enthusiastically wash his hair, decided to wash his hair for him.

Embarrassed, Booth complained, "Oh come on Bones. I know how to wash my own hair. I'm not going to do anything crazy. I'll do it in the shower and I'll be careful."

Watching him strip off his socks and then his shirt in the bathroom, Brennan smiled and moved further into the room. "Don't you think it would be better if you let me help you?"

Not sure if he was being inconsiderate, Booth stood with his shirt in his hand, "Uh . . . well." Watching her remove her blouse and stand near the sink, Booth changed his mind about the help, "Okay, I can see I was wrong. I definitely need help washing my hair."

Amused at his expression, Brennan noticed Booth take his pants off rather quickly, "I know what you're thinking Booth. You're recovering from surgery."

Straightening, Booth frowned, "I know, but I just had surgery to my head. The rest of me isn't defective. Everything works just fine."

Rolling her eyes, Brennan moved over to the tub, reached past the shower curtain and removed the shampoo bottle from the shelf. Carrying it back to the sink, Brennan shook her head, "You're still weak, Booth. You're just taking a shower and I'm going to help you wash your hair before you step in to the tub and that's all. The rest of you may be working, but that doesn't matter right now. No sex."

Crossing his arms across his chest, Booth pouted, "You know how to kill a mood, Bones."

Shaking her head, Brennan remarked, "Better the mood than you, Booth."

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