A/N: My dear friend Catherine left us for one week of holidays, so I'm left alone to post the chapter, can you believe that? I hope that everything's right... Let me check... The former posted chapter was chapter 9 and 10 comes after 9 right? Hehe. Just joking. I think we'll never thank you enough for the lovely, kind, nice, wonderful reviews we receive for each chapter. So, big thanks to you, again. In this chapter, you'll be happy to know that a sweet little boy will appear in our story soon! Meanwhile, Cu—jeez, I was about to write Cullen lol Sorry Cullen! We still love ya—So as I was saying, Cummings is still a jerk and it makes Brennan upset but this makes Booth's protection instincts towards his partner stronger, and we love that, don't we? I hope he's gonna kick Cummings' ass before the end of this story.

Chapter 10 – Breakdown

He brought the cup of coffee up to his mouth and took a gulp of the hot drink. He was feeling incredibly cheerful, this morning. Cheerful and impatient. He swallowed more coffee, emptying the cup before he put it down on the counter. When he buttoned up his shirt, he considered the best place to take her. When he adjusted his tie, he decided what he'd use this time. When he laced his shoes, he thought of how much he'd tighten the ties around her wrists and ankles. For sure, this wait was part of his excitement. When he wrapped himself in his coat, he wondered how long he'd make this little game last. And while he was locking the door of his apartment, he settled himself on how exactly he'd kill her.

"You're right; the swelling's completely down, Booth," Brennan announced happily, pressing her fingers in his lower back.

"Your recovery should go twice as fast now."

He rolled onto his back and pushed himself up into a sitting position on his bed, matching her smile.

"Wow…" was all he could say. "I guess this means I get to decide what we'll have for dinner again."

Rolling her eyes at him, she answered strictly, "You can guess again. I'm making us chicken tonight. Period."

"You know, Bones, although you say you don't want children, you'd make a good mom. One hell of a mom," he added as he pulled his shirt over his head, covering his well-toned upper body. Brennan helped him into his chair and nudged his ribs with her fist.

"Watch your mouth, young man," she teased before preceding him to the kitchen where breakfast was already served.

"Yes grandma!" he called after her and smoothed the covers on his bed before following her.

"Want some coffee?" she asked him from the counter.

"Ah, you're spoiling me! Yes, I would love some coffee."

"Isn't that what grandmothers do? Spoil their grandchildren?" she turned to face him, two steaming coffee mugs in her hands which she proceeded to put on the table. "And pinching their cheeks?" she laughed and firmly grabbed her partner's cheek between her thumb and forefinger.

"Ouch! Okay, okay, you're not a grandma. Have mercy," Booth groaned and Brennan gave him a last squeeze before stepping back with a satisfied grin on her face.

"That's what I thought," she agreed warningly and sat at the table as Booth rolled himself to the opposite side and grabbed a slice of bread. Brennan smeared hers with strawberry jam and took a big bite.

"Hungry, are we, Bones?" Booth teased as he took a smaller bite of his bread.

"What do you think, I haven't eaten all night," she retorted with her mouth full.

"Most people don't eat all night yet they behave themselves at breakfast."

In truth, he was grateful for her healthy appetite. She had been awfully thin when he'd held her in the hospital. Luckily, a few days ago, she had emerged from the bathroom, happily announcing that she fitted into her trousers again without having to use a belt. It had brought a wide smile to both their faces.

"Booth, it was a joke. Stop bothering me and let me eat."

"Whatever you w— oh my God!" his eyes turned big as he suddenly realised something. Something which, judging from his expression, was sort of important.

"What's wrong?"

"I—completely forgot to tell you—to ask you—"

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to figure out what he was trying to say.

"I'm supposed to have Parker this weekend," Booth confessed. "Should I call Rebecca?"

"Why would you call her?"

"Well obviously I can't ask you to take care of him, too—"

"Booth, don't be ridiculous. Of course Parker can come. I would never take away your time with your son, you know that," she scolded him.

"Really?" He looked like a child whose parents had just promised him the toy he always wanted.

"Yes, Booth. Really. Will Rebecca bring him or do I have to pick him up?"

"She usually drops him off after school. He'll be here around three."

"Tomorrow I suppose."

"Yes, Friday. You rock, Bones, you know that?"

"I don't rock," she said, puzzled.

"It means you're my favourite person today."

"Oh. Thanks then."

She quickly moved her mug to her mouth, hoping to cover her flushed cheeks. She didn't blush easily, usually. She had when her first boyfriend had told her how beautiful she was; when her favourite foster parents congratulated her on her success at school; when she was given the official document making her a forensic anthropologist; and maybe when she received the phone call telling her that her first book was a bestseller, too.

So why was that never in her life had she been blushing as much as lately?

He was eager to see how she'd react when she realised that she was trapped—again. He wondered how long he'd be able to wait. He was already so glad for the mix of panic and understanding which her eyes would fill with.

It would be like the last time, but so much better. Because this time, the evidence would already be in his hands. She wouldn't be a bargaining counter but his prey. There wouldn't really be other people in the game. Only two protagonists. Only him and her. It wouldn't be blackmail anymore. Merely revenge.

"Hi there," a cheerful voice greeted her. "Almost weekend, right? Have any plans?"

Oh please no. One more hour and I'd have been gone. Heaving an annoyed sigh, Brennan slowly turned around and faced the man who had become her living nightmare.

"What do you want, Leo? I thought we'd agreed you call before you come here so I can have you out as quickly as possible."

Hostilities from her side weren't subtle anymore, not after the incident in front of the interrogation room. She had wanted to go in to question Randolph Kiernan, but then Cummings had roughly grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the hallway. He had hissed that he didn't want her present anywhere but behind the glass. She had winced at his grip and saw no other way out than to punch him in the face.

She had watched with satisfaction as he'd doubled up and clasped his mouth, groaning in pain. He'd growled something like "Fucking bitch". Even though she had anticipated a reaction as such from him, she'd been startled by his words for they were filled with more than anger. The violence of the formulation, the subjacent threat of his tone had destabilised her for a moment. But more than his words, what she had seen in his eyes had woken some kind of terror in her. During a couple of seconds, she thought that he would attack her again, but he had merely thrown her a deadly glare before entering the interrogation room, slamming the door shut behind him. That was when she had realised that, for a reason she didn't or didn't want to understand, she had been holding her breath.

Now, he had to walk around with a purple chin, and she just loved reminding him of the humiliation caused by his ridiculous appearance.

Cummings shrugged in front of her, stepping so close to her that he had her body trapped between his and her desk.

"I just thought I'd surprise you."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. I know you like it."

"You know what I like most about you?"

"No but I'm eager to hear it."

"Your chin," she smiled innocently, knowing this would hurt his masculinity.

Indeed, he frowned and backed away from her. She had won the first round, today. Angela could be proud.

"You're a tease, Doctor Brennan," he said with a pained sigh.

"What did you come here for?" she repeated in a cold voice.

"I need to take a look at the evidence. Where can I find it?"

"You've seen the gun yesterday."

"I haven't seen Delaney's DNA."

She laughed at him. "Neither have I; it's too small."

Cumming's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Don't play this little game with me or you'll be sorry. All I'm asking for is to see where the evidence is stored so I can check if it's according to protocol. I'm not losing this case over allegedly tampered evidence."

"Fine," she surrendered, but only because she wanted to. "It's in the basement. Follow me—" She started walking, then stopped and turned to him. "–but keep your distance," she added, narrowing her eyes in a threatening glare.

"Or you could give me directions and I'll go there myself. I'm not a child; you don't have to hold my hand or anything."

"And I certainly won't. For the same reasons as you, I'm not leaving you alone with the evidence. Now stop whining and follow me," she commanded and stalked out of her office, making sure she walked so fast he had trouble keeping up with her.

"So what can go wrong?" Cummings inquired as he jogged down the stairs after the Forensic Anthropologist, sort of liking how she kept challenging him, trying to annoy him.

"What do you mean?" she retorted exasperatedly.

"How would someone be able to destroy the evidence? I mean, you think this guy knows his fair share about forensics, don't you? I just wanna make sure he will never have the chance to try anything."

She frowned. Was he really that stupid? "And… what makes you think this lab isn't secure, exactly? We've had more crooks who knew a lot about forensics, they never succeeded in anything."

"Okay forget it. Just show me where it is all right?"

Wow. She'd managed to piss him off for the second time that day. As she chuckled quietly to herself, they reached the first barrier to get to the stored evidence. Five minutes later, Brennan was holding the DNA sample in her hand, showing it to Cummings before attempting to put it back in the huge freezer.

"Hey!" She called out indignantly when he snatched it from her. "Be careful, it's evidence. You idiot," she added under her breath before snatching the sample back and quickly placing it back inside the freezer.

"Thank you, Nadia," she said to the woman who had accompanied them, following protocol.

"You're welcome, Doctor Brennan," she replied politely before leading them back to the staircase.

Again, Brennan jogged up the stairs swiftly, but was suddenly stopped by Cumming's call.

"What?" she asked, turning around and looking down upon him as he caught up with her.

"Earlier, in your office, I was serious about surprising you."

Rolling her eyes, she sighed, "You've told me this already."

"No, wait! You haven't given me the chance to say anything."

"Say it quickly then. I have work to do."

"You and I… God this is exciting," he started with a broad grin, "I've arranged an undercover mission for the two of us. In two weeks' time, we'll be entering the drugs circuit. As lovers! Isn't it romantic?"

Brennan's mouth fell open and she stared at him disbelievingly.

"You're kidding, right?" she asked hopeful, placing a hand on her hip.

"Not at all. And Cullen already agreed. He's a wise man. I think he's starting to like me, even."

Too taken-aback to retort, Brennan shot him a furious glare and ran up the stairs, rounded the platform and jogged up the stairs to her office, where she threw the door closed. The bastard had kept the news for later on purpose. Because he knew that it would piss her off even more. He had let her believe she had won when all this time he had been putting her on.

She began pacing up and down, her hand pressed to her forehead. Going undercover with Cummings... She felt the need to punch something or somebody. This was far beyond her. She took a deep breath to try to calm down the violent anger that knotted her stomach. And there was Booth; he needed her. She felt anger turning into discouragement. If she asked Cullen to find someone else, he'd want to know why, and she couldn't betray Booth. She felt a lump forming in her throat. She had no idea who to turn to for help. She was alone with this. She pressed her hands to her mouth, muffling a sob. The day had started out quite good, for once. And now, everything was going wrong. As she flopped down on her couch, she caught herself wondering what she had possibly done to deserve this. She let her face fall in her hands, unable to hold back her tears any longer. This was becoming too much. Way too much.

He hadn't taken his car, this day. He had felt like walking. Plus he had some shopping to do in the centre. Realising that he was smiling, he immediately corrected his expression. He didn't want people to look at him as if he were a weirdo.

He stopped suddenly and, lost in his thoughts, he lingered in front of a shop window. He wondered how long she'd resist. He wondered how long he'd let her resist. He wondered if she'd end up begging. She didn't seem this kind of woman, but who knew?

"Bones, I'm sorry; I dropped the remote control. Could you please get it for me?"

Brennan appeared in the doorway and shot Booth a disapproving glance.

"Too heavy for you, G-man?" she mocked him nicely, then proceeded to pick up the remote and placed it in his hands. He was lying in his bed, on top of the covers, watching TV while she was preparing dinner. Ordinary evening. Except this night, she was feeling especially on edge and doing her best to hide it made it but worse.

"Apparently. Sorry." Booth shot her a sheepish smile. Staring at him, she abruptly felt better and she caught herself smiling back. He had held on for her. Now she was holding on for him. And he helped her to. When she felt she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, each one of his gazes, of his smiles, made her stronger.

"Must be my hands are tired from doing all the paperwork Cullen set me up with," he added teasingly.

"At least you're allowed to work again."

"Yeah. That's right," he said as he studied her. Ever since she'd come in tonight, he sensed something was bothering her. He had been about to ask her several times, but it had never felt like the right time. He knew her well enough to know that she wasn't planning on telling him yet. When she caught his gaze, her eyes widened a bit and she quickly returned to the kitchen. He kept staring at the doorframe, wondering whether it was a good idea to go talk to her, or not. He was about to join her when she called him from the kitchen.

"What's up Bones?"

She popped her head around the corner. "Would you mind getting me some butter from the groceries store? I've just realised that we don't have any left, and I really can't abandon my pans right now."

He looked at her, slightly shocked. "Bones, I—I would love to do that for you, but—I'd have to, you know, go outside—in my chair—"

"Booth, please," she insisted. "One day or another, you'll have to go out." He made a face and she sighed. "C'mon, the grocery store is just around the corner."

"Bones, you know you can ask me anything but this, please—just—not this. I mean, we can do without butter for tonight, can't we?"

Brennan felt a wave of uncontrollable anger surfacing.

"You know what, Booth? I'm tired. I'm tired of you never giving up on your damned pride, tired of this ass I'm obliged to work with all day, tired of EVERYTHING," she shouted and disappeared from his view.

"Temperance! Come back, please! Talk to me!" When he got no answer, he expected to hear a door being slammed shut, but the noise never came. God, he had never been good at this. "It's not the groceries, is it? It's Cummings, right? What did he do to you? Damn it, get back here!" In spite of himself, he began to feel annoyed by her silence. "You know, you're hurting my feelings by walking away. If I would be able to walk I'd have followed you. You know that. But I can't. I can't walk now and I might never walk again. Now I don't like people looking down on me; in fact it's the one of the most degrading things I can think of, but you know what? Out of sheer respect and gratitude to you I'll try to get past that."

Silence lingered in the room as he waited for a reaction. Having voiced his concerns regarding his own condition, he actually felt quite relieved. Then she appeared in the doorway again and he realised she had probably been standing there the whole time. She had never walked away from him.

She entered the room and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"And beside my own condition, Bones, I really think you should talk to Cullen about this Cummings. He bruised your arm, and taking everything else into account, that's sexual harassment."

"I don't need Cullen's help. I can deal with him."

"That's the wrong attitude, Bones. The law says you don't have to deal with him. He ought to just back off and leave you alone. Be a professional."

"Booth—I can't do that. He's too important for the case. He knows these drugs people and his experience might be of great value. I understand your concern and really, it's not like I enjoy his comments, but I strongly feel that getting a killer is more important than my temporary problem."

Booth nodded slowly in understanding, although he still wasn't fine with the situation. Yet he had to trust that she would kick the bastard's ass if he crossed another line. After all, she had told him he looked worse. This woman and her damned logic sometimes… But he would have felt the same way. Part of him did feel the same way. He wanted the man who had kept and hurt his Bones to suffer, and he knew she wanted the man who had paralysed him in jail.

"All right. You know what; you're right."

She let a shaky breath escape and relaxed her arms, which had been tightly pressed against her body during the conversation. She hadn't thought it would be this easy to convince Booth, she'd figured he would insist on his 'duty' to protect her a little while longer. Suddenly the memory of that afternoon came forward, and she took this as a sign that this was probably the best of all the wrong moments to bring it up.

She tiredly leaned against the wall, tilting her head back and staring at the ceiling.

"You know, today… tonight… when I was getting ready to clean up, he was suddenly there. He wanted to see the evidence." She paused and he waited patiently for her to continue. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, hesitating, before deciding that she might as well tell him everything now. "And then he told me we'll be going undercover in two weeks."

He shook his head confusedly. "What are you sorry for?"

She shrugged and all he wanted at this moment was to be able to hold her, to lift some weight off her small shoulders. "Just… everything that's happening to you. To us. It's not fair. And all of it has to do with me."

"Hey," he said softly, his way to gently demand her attention and probably invite her to bear her soul — which she would often end up doing but only partially. Whatever his intention, to her it meant a reassurance that she should trust him with whatever was bothering her. What she liked about this was that it was still her choice to speak up. She didn't have to but she knew she could. He just made it easier for her to actually consider it. So her shoulders slumped in defeat and she dragged her tired feet to the bed.

She normally would never have done this; but she felt so tired and so fed-up with everything that she completely didn't care. Kicking off her boots, she sat on the other side of his bed and pulled her legs onto it, then scooted over towards Booth's body.

"Come here," he told her, glad to see that she was already working on it. He stretched out his arm to her and she was happy to rest her exhausted body against his warm chest. Wrapping his arm tightly around her so she could barely move but was safely secured against him, he pulled her even closer and then buried his nose in her soft, auburn curls.

"I thank you for doing all this, Bones. I wish I knew a way to make you believe that nothing is your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. You never did, okay? Why do you always have to be so hard on yourself, huh?" he murmured comfortingly and thought he heard a faint sniff from under him.

He knew this would only last until she realised what she was doing and then she'd jump up and stammer some excuse about having to go. To get out of his arms, out of the room, away from what had occurred. Funny, how she claimed to care about nothing but the truth yet tried to evade it when it became personal.

"Booth? I— I just want you to know that I…"

"It's okay, Bones, really. You don't have to say anything."

"I just wanted to say thank you for being my friend, that's all."

She lay perfectly still against him; at last she wasn't pacing up and down or fidgeting nervously, and this told Booth more than her subtle hesitation before she thanked him for being her friend. Since he couldn't come up with an answer which didn't sound stupid like 'you're welcome' or 'I thank you as well', he merely closed his other arm around her too and made her a promise to be there when she needed him, but only in his mind, for now.

"Oh! The chicken!" she suddenly exclaimed and jumped up as though burned, heading for the kitchen and making a run for it.

He watched her disappear in the corridor and he let out a sigh. Yep, there she did it again.

A/N: Now hold your horses because in the next chapter, Booth tries to help Brennan with the Cummings situation. Next chapter's also longer than the previous ones by the way (how lucky are you!!). Still like our story? Please leave us a review, it will make our day!