Chapter 10

Angela's worried gaze rested on Brennan as she stared sightlessly into the fire. "How are you holding up, Sweetie?" she asked gently.

Bones shrugged, still gazing intently at the dancing flames in the fireplace. "I'm not sure how to handle this one," she admitted, her voice low. "I don't know what's happening with Russ and his family. Booth is probably going to wrap his car around a light pole, he's so frantic to get to Parker. And the Gravedigger has basically turned your beautiful home into a prison. We can't even step outside the front door or open a window to get a breath of fresh air." Brennan sighed gently. "If it was just me, I would be fine," she said quietly. "I know how to take care of myself. And if I were at the lab and could go over evidence, I'd fell like I was helping to catch him." Her frustration finally surfaced and she shoved herself up from the chair and began to pace. "I'm just sitting here!" she exclaimed, running her hands through her hair. "I don't know what's going on and I can't do anything about it." Brennan turned to face Angela, her face a mask of frustration. "I don't know how long I can stand not knowing, not doing something."

Angela went to Brennan's side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I know this is driving you nuts," she said soothingly. "But you have to trust that everything possible is being done to find him. This isn't going to last forever," she insisted. "And then everything will be back to normal. Well," she qualified with a grin, "as normal as things get around here."

"I just wish Booth would call."

"I know, Sweetie," Angela acknowledged gently. "And he will. He's only been gone," she quickly checked her watch, "about twenty minutes."

Brennan's face registered her shock. "Only twenty minutes?" she exclaimed incredulously. "It feels like so much longer."

"I know," Angela agreed. "But you know as soon as Booth finds anything out . . ."

Angela's assurances were interrupted by Brennan's cell phone, its ring shrill in the suddenly quiet room. Bones reached for it slowly, the dread on her face quickly replaced by relief. "Booth!" she exclaimed into the phone. "Is everything alright? Is Parker OK?"

"He's alright," Booth replied. "The men I asked Cullen for were here before I was. Rebecca and Parker are just fine. How are you doing?"

"Better, now," Brennan told him, giving a silent thumbs-up to a relieved Angela. "I was so worried."

"Any word on Russ?"

"No, not yet," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly in spite of her efforts to stay strong. "I'm sure nothing is wrong," Bones immediately assured him. "But it will be nice to hear it for myself."

"Just sit tight," Booth instructed. "I'll be there in about thirty minutes."

"Absolutely not!" Brennan exclaimed. "And don't try to argue with me," she said before he could interject. "You need Parker right now, and he needs you. Hodgins and Angela are here with me and this house is practically Fort Knox."

Booth was silent and Brennan immediately pressed her advantage. "Really, Booth, we're perfectly safe here and you know you'd feel better if you were with Parker tonight. And I promise I'll call you if anything happens."

"My definition of 'anything', Bones, would be if you heard a mouse sneeze in the basement."

Brennan surprised herself by actually laughing. "Alright, Booth, I promise. Feel better?"

"No," he responded gruffly. "But I'll be there first thing in the morning." He hesitated a moment and then added softly, "Take care of yourself, Temperance."

"You, too, Seeley." Bones gently disconnected the call and stood quietly for a minute, her eyes closed as she offered her gratitude to whoever was listening for the safety of Booth and his son.

"Sweetie, you two are so gone."

Brennan turned to look at her suddenly goofily grinning friend.

"Angela, that's an absurd thing to say," she chided. "While I realize Booth is no longer here, I'm obviously standing right in front of you."

The artist couldn't help but laugh at her friend's oh-so-literal mind. "No, Brennan," she clarified, laughter still in her voice. "I mean you two are . . ." She wiggled her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders eloquently.

"We are . . . what?" Brennan asked, impatient.

"Jeez, Brennan, I mean you're in love with each other!"

Bones recoiled, her face blank with shock. "Angela, don't be ridiculous," she said brusquely as she walked towards the doorway. "We're partners."

"Sweetie, there are partners and then there are partners. You two are definitely in the second group."

"You're dreaming."

"Brennan, if this were my dream, I'd sure have you and Booth doing something a lot more interesting together than going over case files." Angela laughed at the dirty look she got from her friend. "Hey, you walked right into that one."

"Angela, this really isn't the time for this conversation," Bones insisted as she walked to the staircase, grabbing her overnight bag along the way. "It's been a long day," she said, her voice gentling. "I'm going to go upstairs, take a shower, and try to get a few chapters done on the new book."

"Sweetie, you should try to get some sleep," Angela insisted, concerned as she took in her friend's pale skin and the dark rings under her weary eyes. "You need the rest."

Temperance shook her head as she started up the stairs. "I won't be able to sleep until I hear about Russ," she said grimly. "And maybe not even then. Not as long as he's out there."

She turned at the top of the stairs to smile gamely down at her friend. "I'll see you in the morning."

Angela watched Brennan until she disappeared from view, her brow wrinkled with concern. Brennan needed sleep, there were no two ways about it. She had been going on pure stubbornness for almost forty-eight hours without taking a break. Angela folded her arms across her stomach as she walked slowly to the sitting room. There had to be something she could do. Suddenly she stopped. "Of course," she murmured to herself, abruptly changing course and heading for the kitchen. The sleeping pills Jack had been given after he had been buried alive! She could just ground one up and put it in something. Maybe warm milk. If she pouted enough she was sure she could get Brennan to drink it. And if Brennan was mad about it in the morning, at least she'd be angry with a good night's sleep under her belt.

Angela hurried into the kitchen and opened the medicine cupboard. It took some digging but she finally found the small orange bottle. Pouring one into a bowl, she began to crush it with a spoon. Brennan would never notice one little pill in a glass of milk.

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Dark eyes watched Angela through the mullioned kitchen windows. What was that crazy bitch doing? He watched her as she ground a pill into dust and then heat some milk. She carefully poured the powder into a glass and, minutes later, thoroughly stirred in the warm liquid. "Oh, Jesus, is she doing what I think she's doing?" he murmured with glee. "I couldn't have planned this better myself!" He was practically dancing as he hopped from one foot to the other in barely-suppressed excitement. "Please be giving her a sleeping pill!" He lowered his binoculars and clenched his fists in early triumph. This was going to be even better than he had planned. She would be defenseless and he could do whatever he wanted. Thank God for the good doctor's helpful friends. That artist bitch was going to deliver Temperance Brennan to him on a silver platter.

AN: Sorry it has taken so long to update but the muse and I were not agreeing on ANYTHING. Let me know what you think of the latest chapter. Seriously. Feedback keeps me going and my muse cooperative. Giddy, even:) So click on the little blue button and make us both happy! And thanks so much for reading!