Thanks for your patience while I was away with work. This chapter isn't anything particularly exciting, but it was definitely inspired by my two weeks away for work. Part of my job meant giving presentations daily for two weeks straight, and my voice got very tired. Thank goodness for microphones. (Thankfully, it wasn't as bad as I've made Brennan's out to be in this chapter … but I get laryngitis almost every year, so I know the feeling.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.

"Morning." Booth placed a quick kiss on the back of Brennan's neck as he sat up in bed.

She turned over to face him, a tired smile crossing her face as her mouth opened to return the greeting. Furrowing her brow, she cleared her throat and tried again, a hoarse "Morning" finally coming from her lips.

"You're sick."

She shook her head, trying to clear her throat again.

"Laryngitis." Booth diagnosed, leaning to kiss Brennan's forehead. "Guess you picked it up from Angela."

Immediately pouting, Brennan shook her head and tried to talk again, finally resorting to a whispered, "I feel fine."

"So did Angela, remember? She just couldn't talk for a few days."

"Oh no," Brennan managed to convey her dismayed tone even through a whisper. She let out of a frustrated groan as she sat up in bed. "I'm giving that lecture at American tomorrow."

"Well, you might want to reschedule. Not sure it's going to happen." Booth slid out of bed. "I'll go fix you some hot tea. You can shower first. Maybe that'll help."

"Thank you."

"Rest your voice." He smiled. "I'll bring it up for you and I'll get Christine ready."

"OK."

"Hey." He grinned as he put a finger over her lips. "I mean it. No talking. Save your voice."

She rolled her eyes but nodded anyway.

Cautiously balancing two mugs, Booth opened the bathroom door with his free hand, only to be greeted by a hot rush of steam. "Whew, you got a sauna in here, Bones. Should help open that throat right up." He grinned as she poked her head out of the shower to tell him something. "Hey, no talking, remember? It can wait."

She groaned, rolled her eyes, and adjusted the shower curtain, finishing her final rinse in a matter of seconds. As Booth sipped his coffee, his eyes roamed as Brennan stepped out of the shower, quickly reaching for the towel from the rack.

"Where's Christine?" she whispered hoarsely, rubbing her arms and shoulders dry.

"Still asleep. I laid everything out and figured I'd let her sleep for a few more minutes." Booth handed her a mug. "Hot tea with lemon and honey."

"Thank you," she murmured gratefully, accepting the mug as she tucked the towel around her body. She took a sip and let out a content sigh.

"Taste OK?"

She nodded and mouthed the word, "Perfect."

"Wow. That's high praise coming from you."

"I had no idea you knew how to make a good cup of hot tea," she whispered.

"I'm a constant surprise, Bones." He grinned. "Plus, I've never had the chance to make you hot tea. I don't think you've been sick since … forever."

"I'm not sick."

"Right." He nodded. "Just unable to speak. And speaking of which, you need to mouth words and not whisper. Save your voice."

She immediately argued, her voice still shot. "That won't work today at the lab."

He shrugged. "Sorry. Guess you're going to be texting and writing a lot."

By the time she met him for lunch at the diner, Brennan was almost ready to call it a day out of sheer frustration. No one in the lab seemed to understand her hand motions, and her ability to whisper had almost died.

"Daisy is the only one who knows sign language," she wrote to Booth, who merely grinned in his place across from her at the diner as he read her message. "I find this very aggravating."

"In that whole place of geniuses, you two are the only ones with sign language skills? Yeah, that really is unfortunate," Booth agreed. "And I'm sure it's time consuming to spell out every word."

Brennan nearly nodded as she took a sip of her water. She glanced up as the waitress came over.

"Hey." Booth greeted the woman with a friendly smile. "I'll have the usual. Dr. Brennan will have the largest hot tea you can find with lemon and honey. And whatever vegetarian soup you've got — a big bowl."

"You got it. Sorry about your throat, Dr. Brennan."

Brennan tried to say thank you, and gave a frustrated sigh when nothing came out of her mouth. Booth tried not to chuckle, but couldn't hold back a grin. "Admit it, Bones. This is pretty funny."

She shook her head.

"I've never been around you when you can't talk. It's …" Suddenly, Booth realized he needed to choose his next words very carefully. "Um … I don't like it."

She raised an eyebrow as if to say, "Oh? Do continue."

"I like your voice. I love talking to you." Booth paused. "And of course I hate to see you sick."

"Not sick," she immediately mouthed.

"Right, just completely unable to speak."

She glanced back down at the notepad in front of her and wrote, "What I am going to do about the lecture tomorrow?"

"Can someone else give it for you?" Booth immediately realized this was a dumb question, and before he could blink, Brennan's written "Absolutely not" appeared on the notepad. He rephrased his question. "Could you have someone deliver it for you?"

She shook her head, writing, "They asked for me. I'm the expert."

"Guess you may have to reschedule."

When the first thing he heard when he arrived home that evening was a dry cough coming from the kitchen area, Booth knew it was time to get insistent with Brennan.

"Hey." He walked in and kissed Brennan's forehead. "Christine in bed?"

She nodded.

"You still sick but not sick, huh?"

She gave a noncommittal shrug.

"Did you cancel for tomorrow yet?"

Slowly, Brennan shook her head.

"Bones. You know you need to."

She huffed and crossed her arms.

"You can give the lecture another time. They love you over there — they'll let you reschedule, especially for an illness." Booth pointed to the laptop on the coffee table. "Shoot them an email and I'll fix you some hot tea. You can drink while I eat dinner."

Accepting defeat, Brennan walked over to pick up her laptop, sitting cross-legged on the couch as her fingers flew across the keyboard. Booth woofed down his dinner, taking his plate to the sink as the teakettle began to whistle.

"Shhh!" he scolded, quickly hurrying over to the stovetop to stop the noise. Brennan, still working on her email, looked up with a brief smile at his antics, and then resumed her work.

A few minutes later, Booth settled next to Brennan on the couch, presenting her with a steaming mug. "It's hotter than the stuff I made this morning, so wait a minute to drink it, OK?"

She nodded and smiled as he clinked her mug against his. "Some for you?" she asked hoarsely.

"Yeah. Figured I should join you."

"Never seen you with tea."

"Eh, there's a first time for everything." He smiled as she closed her laptop and put her head on his shoulder. "Got the email sent?" He felt her nod. "Good deal. Mind if I turn on the game?"

"Go ahead." She looked up and whispered, "Not like I'm going to talk much."

"I figured." He kissed her forehead as he used the remote to flip to the right channel. Quickly becoming caught up in the game, he wouldn't have noticed Brennan's first sip of tea, had she not started coughing after the drink. "You OK?"

"Whiskey," she muttered, giving him a look through narrowed eyes.

"Yeah, it's good for coughs."

"Should have told me."

"It's a modified hot toddy, Bones. Admit it, it's good."

Begrudgingly, she nodded.

"Granted, I put a lot of whiskey in yours."

"You want me drunk," she accused in a hoarse whisper.

"Who, me? Never. I'm a gentleman. And I made myself one." He held up his mug and took a healthy sip. "Mmm."

"So that's why you wanted tea."

Like I said, nothing fancy. Just a little "hi, I'm finally back!" chapter.