I know I say it all of the time; but, I really do mean it, thanks for reviewing my story.
I don't own Bones.
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After arriving at the parking lot, Deputy Johnson turned to look at Booth. "Nice meeting you, Agent Booth. Good luck catching that sick bastard."
Appreciating the sentiment, Booth smiled. "Thanks."
Walking over to where the other deputy was standing near the entrance to the trail, Deputy Johnson clapped the man on his shoulder. "Hey, Harry. I'll take over now and you can go back on patrol."
Booth walked over towards Lester's truck and waited for Clark to put his crime kit in the back seat before he asked his favor. Before Clark could get into the back seat, Booth stopped him. "Clark, I was wondering if you could look at my right hand."
Aware that Booth had been rubbing his upper right arm and the fingers on his right hand all afternoon, Clark reminded the worried agent. "Sure. Just remember I work with dead people not live people."
Appreciating the younger man's honesty, Booth assured him, "That's okay, Bones told me to ask you to look at my arm and fingers. If she recommends that you do it then she must think you're pretty damn good when it comes to bones and stuff."
Impressed that Brennan had that much confidence in him, Clark moved closer to the agent. "Yeah?" Holding out his hand, he waited for Booth to place his hand in his hand. "Let me feel your fingers." Touching Booth's fingers on his right hand, he leaned over them and looking at them closer. Satisfied, Clark straightened up and asked the agent, "Any numbness or tingling?"
Slowly shaking his head, Booth answered, "Nope. They're just swollen and my arm hurts like hell."
Cautiously, Clark released Booth's hand. "Your fingers are warm and they look like they have pretty good color. You really should have an x-ray done though to make sure. It's really the only way to tell. The pain could be normal or it could indicate that you have a problem. It's good that you aren't ignoring it. Do you have anything that you can take for the pain right now?"
Shrugging his shoulders, Booth replied, "Advil."
Clark was worried about the Agent's fingers but didn't want to panic him. "Alright, that's okay for now. If you need something stronger then I recommend you see your family doctor. You really need to have that x-rayed."
Worried about Clark's tone of voice, Booth licked his bottom lip. "That's okay. I have stronger stuff at home. I just can't take it. It makes me high as a damn kite. It seems like all of these new drugs do that to me."
Frowning, Clark urged him, "Well, maybe you can talk to Dr. Brennan when you get home. You're okay for now, but really, you need to have that x-rayed. Don't put it off when you get home."
Rubbing his upper right arm, Booth commented, "Thanks. At least I know my fingers aren't going to rot off any time soon."
Laughing, Clark assured him, "God no. Don't say that. I'd hate to be the physician that screwed up working on you. Dr. Brennan wouldn't take that too well."
Booth chuckled at Brennan going all alpha warrior on the doctor who'd seen him at the hospital. "You got that right."
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After Booth had arrived at the Hoover, he walked up the stairs to his office from the parking garage.
Lester furious that Booth wasn't taking the elevator, complained, "Come on Booth. Damn it. You shouldn't be taking the stairs. What if you fall? Who do you think Cullen is going to blame, you? No way, he'll tear me a new one before I can say jack shit."
Not amused with Lester's carping, Booth entered the doorway to the stairwell and shook his head. "I'm stiff from riding in the truck. Climbing the stairs will help me loosen up. Stop you're complaining. I don't need a damn baby sitter."
Unable to believe what he was hearing, Lester mumbled, "So you're stiff and you're going to walk up the stairs with a cast on your arm?"
Weary, Booth placed his left hand on the rail and started to climb the stairs. "Yep."
Lester, following Booth closely up the stairs protested. "This isn't funny Booth. It's down right serious."
Shaking his head, Booth continued to climb the stairs. "Oh, It's starting to be funny to me."
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After Booth had looked over what Charlie had dug up on Robert Triche, Booth asked Charlie if he could take him home.
Arriving at his house, Booth had found no one home. Brennan was obviously still at the Jeffersonian and Christine would stay in Day Care until Brennan came home. Walking through the house, he managed to get his jacket off and his shoes. Entering the kitchen, much to Booth's delight, he found a piece of apple pie in the fridge. Pulling out the pie plate and a gallon of milk, he filled up a glass and carried his pie to the kitchen table. Walking back, he picked up his milk and set it next to his pie. His right arm throbbing, Booth ignored the pain, sat down and ate his pie and drank his milk.
After he had completed his snack, he walked upstairs and into his bedroom. Lying down, Booth sighed and closed his eyes, falling asleep in a few brief moments.
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Brennan, having tried to call Booth several times since her little faux pas earlier that day, had been sent to voice mail each time. Not sure if Booth was upset with her or not, she had finally decided to go home and see if Booth was back from his trip to the crime scene.
Entering the house with Christine in her arms, Brennan noticed Booth's hiking boots sitting next to the front door and his jacket draped over the back of the couch. Looking around and not seeing Booth, Brennan walked down stairs to the man cave to see if Booth was there. Seeing the room was unoccupied, she walked back upstairs and then took the stair case up to the second floor. Carrying Christine into their bedroom, Brennan found Booth sleeping on their bed.
Hugging Christine, Brennan closed the bedroom door and walked back downstairs to start cooking dinner.
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When Brennan was ready to serve dinner she realized that Booth hadn't made an appearance. Walking back upstairs, Brennan opened the bedroom door to see Booth still lying in bed sleeping. Moving over to the bed, Brennan leaned over and shook Booth's left shoulder. Startled, Booth awoke to find Brennan leaning over him. "Hey, you been home long?"
Nodding her head, Brennan smiled. "Yes, I've made dinner if you're interested."
His arm throbbing relentlessly, Booth held his right arm against his chest. "Hey, do you think it would be okay if I took half a pill of that pain medicine. Maybe half wouldn't make me crazy."
Brennan was certain that was a bad idea. "No Booth, I don't think that would be wise. Are you in that much pain?"
Sitting up carefully, Booth tried to ignore the pain he was in. "Nah, I guess not." Sitting on the edge of the bed, Booth put his left hand to his head and closed his eyes.
Brennan, worried about Booth, advised him, "Booth, perhaps it would be better if you stayed home tomorrow. Surely you can rest for one day?"
Shaking his head, Booth sighed. "I can't. I have a meeting that I have to attend tomorrow morning. I can't miss it."
Concerned, Brennan sat down next to Booth, placed her right hand on his left arm and apologized. "Booth, I'm sorry about what I said to you earlier today."
Unable to concentrate as well as he wanted to, Booth asked her, "What did you say to me?"
Her concern starting to rise, Brennan asked him, "Do you remember that I talked to you earlier today?"
A little fuzzy headed, Booth thought about it. "Sure. You complained about Brian."
Brennan looked at Booth's puzzled face and licked her bottom lip. "Yes, I did."
Shrugging his shoulders, Booth assured her, "You're allowed to vent, Bones. I didn't have a problem with that."
Relieved that Booth either didn't hear what she had said to him on the phone or didn't consider it important enough to remember, Brennan placed her hand on his left arm. "Come downstairs and we'll eat. Christine is sleeping right now, but you know she'll be awake in a little while."
A little groggy, Booth stood up and followed Brennan downstairs.
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Does he remember or doesn't he? That's the question.