Disclaimer: I do not own theses characters, though Fox, Josephson Entertainment, Far Field Productions and Kathy Reichs do.

Angela Montenegro knocked once, knocked twice, knocked three times. All of which remained un-answered. The groceries she held were beginning to become heavy and irritation began to rise in her stomach. Thankfully Tempe had given her a spare key in case of emergencies. Digging the key ring from her purse she looked somewhat like a circus act, balancing three full grocery bags on one hip, juggling the keys in the other hand searching for the short silver etching she knew would open the door that sat before her. She knew they were home; they being Brennan and the tease of an FBI Agent, Booth, his car parked downstairs, Bren's useless as it was practically still wrapped around the tree she had hit. She thought about them together as a couple, imagined what their kiss had been like from what Tempe had told her.

She smiled as an inappropriate thought tangoed slowly across her mind. Now that would be a good reason to not answer the door. Shifting the correct key into her grip she slid it into its hole, the lock clicking as she turned the key.

"Lucy! I'm-" she stopped her tongue as she took in the heap of limbs that lay on the floor of the now odd looking apartment. Her best friend lay in a fetal position; half curled up, half on her chest, her head lying on its side in the crook of her right arm, her chest, shoulders and head resting in the lap of the FBI.

Leaning on her left shoulder, his lips dangerously close to her ear, his left arm wrapped around her waist, his right curving gently around the arm upon which she rested her head slouched FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth. His legs were crisscrossed Indian style and had to be asleep under his and Brennan's weight.Anglea couldn't help but smile, her mind doing a victory dance for her friend. They looked like two children, their eyes closed tight in sleep.

Setting the groceries down soundlessly she began to search for a frying pan. "Damn, Tempe, do you cook anything?" So far she had found nothing but a cabinet of paper plates and glasses, and a near empty silverware drawer. Finally finding what she had been looking for she turned on the small white stove, readying the pan to cook scrambled eggs for the three of them.

Suddenly the lump of Brennan and Booth shifted, sleepy blue eyes beaming, followed by a set of brown.

"Ange?" Tempe's voice croaked, she had yet to register the weight that rested on her shoulders.

"Good morning. I can see why you turned down my place sweetie, I just don't snuggle like Booth does."

Temperance didn't know what her friend meant until she felt the breathing on her ear, and weight lift as he began to sit up.

"What do you mean?" his voice came from just behind her head. Feeling his left hand near her hip bone, his other close to her right hand, she bolted up quickly, the back of her head connecting with his strong jaw.

"Ow…" she closed her eyes tightly, hand going to the back of her ducking head. He did the same, his fingers massaging his chin gingerly.

It was then that they both seemed to notice how close they were together, Brennan's arm still resting on Booth's thigh, his chest pressed against her right shoulder blade. Angela almost expected them to scurry away from each other. Almost. Instead Brennan seemed to fall into a coughing fit, Booth pulling his hands from her and into the air in surrender. The coughing fit immediately ceased. Angela just looked on quietly, smiling as Brennan, getting her good foot underneath herself, used his shoulder to stand, wobbling slightly as he mimicked the action, holding her steady as he himself stood.

"Uhm, what are you doing here Angela?" she shook her head. "Not that your not welcomed, but don't you have to be at the Jeffersonian?"

"Hun, its Saturday."

"Oh…"

"Besides, I wouldn't have missed that for the world."

"What? We were only sleeping." She tried to shrug off the sense of how comfortable she had been in his arms.

"Yea…on top of each other." She smiled coyly, widening her eyes then focusing on Brennan.

"Angela!"

Booth chirped in now. "What can I say Angela? The ladies love me." He mirrored her smile as he watched the blue eyes roll. He felt cold now that Bones wasn't pressed against him. He found himself missing the feeling. Your partners Booth. No…not just partners, friends. But that's it. For God sake, you're the reason the bastard got her in the first place. He watched as Brennan attempted a crutch-less step foreword, her nose scrunching in pain as she failed miserably.

"Booth can you get my crutches?"

"Yes, your highness." He received a dirty look and half smile from his partner.

"Please?" Nodding he moved to them.

"Hunny, we need to get you a cane when you get the walking cast on." Angela commented from the kitchen. "Bren, your stove sucks." She looked up from the barely heated pan to the man and woman standing barely inches apart as Temperance took the crutches, her head down in their close proximity, placing the padded wood under her arms. Booth stood over her, tender looking with his head down as hers was, watching her movements.

"Oh my God, will you two just kiss already!"Angela slammed her hand onto her hip, the other holding the buttery spatula hit the counter, nearly shooting the creamy substance onto the ceiling. They both looked like little girls just asked to eat a worm.

"Just a suggestion" she smiled and went back to the pan, Tempe crutching over as Booth made his way to her room. In only a minute or two he was out, fully dressed in his usual attire; a suit and tie, pulling his jacket on as he entered. Both women looked up as he approached the kitchenette; all the while he checked the gun in his shoulder holster. Angela had finally gotten the eggs to cook and was digging paper plates out of the cupboard. He directed his words to his partner.

"Bones, do you think you'll be alright here with Angela while I'm out?"

She blinked, nodding. "I don't see why not, I'm a big girl Booth, I can take care of myself."

The tension was killing Angela. "Booth, aren't you hungry? I made some eggs for you to."

"Good. Make sure she eats them." He pointed to Bones as his hand met the metal of the door handle. It twisted then slammed and he was gone. Brennan looked from the door to her Cheshire-smile armed friend. "So….?"

"So nothing. Nothing happened Ange. I got scared and he comforted me, held me close to calm me down and we just fell asleep…" She didnt looked down at the plate her friend set in front of her. "That's it." Shepushed it back slightly. "Thanks Angela but I'm not very hungry." She stood with the crutches, ready to go change.

"Bren, sweetie, you need to eat something."

"I'm fine Angela, really." Her friend looked at her suspiciously. "I'll eat a big lunch, I promise." She attempted a convincing smile.

"Don't BS me Hunny." Her friend looked at her seriously. "You have to eat an enormous lunch." Smiling, Brennan stood and crutched to her room.

Finally in her room she found it smelled like Booth, like his cologne, like his own personal scent; Ode de Seeley she mused. It wasn't a bad smell; it was warm…like his embrace. She shook her head lightly and closed her eyes. From the moment she had stepped in she felt like she was in a box. This is ridiculous. Making it to her closet she opened it, opening her eyes only to search for an outfit. She found a knee length, flow-y, white skirt, and an olive green, ¾ sleeved Henley. She looked almost engulfed in the clothes. After slipping on a single brown boot she moved to the bathroom putting on a chunky wooden necklace and pale green earrings. She stood, pulling her hair up, her eyes locked on themselves in the mirror of her bathroom. She didn't like what she saw.

She looked weak, broken, her face still bruised, her left wrist bandaged tenderly and her fingers nearly raw from fighting back. Taking in a deep breath she closed her eyes, reopening them to a new face in the mirror, bright green eyes staring and boring into her chest, a wicked, yellowed smile gleaming against tan skin and blond hair. Her back slammed into the open bathroom door, the cords of her neck stressing as she sucked in air.

Angela rushed into the room with the sound of the door slamming into the wall, finding her friend pressed against the wall by her own will and breathing heavier than usual.

"Bren?" Her eyes were huge and seemed to have darkened since she had spoken with her minutes before. Her blue eyes were locked on the mirror a moment then shot to her friends as she heard the front door open and slam shut a familiar weight distribution sounding as he walked through her apartment.

Boothentered the room as they exited its bathroom. "Bones he's dead."

"Wait. What? Who's dead?"

"Doctor Benjamin Bailey died about five minutes ago from a heart attack."

Her jaw fell slack, her eyes un focused, her mind taking in what he had just told her. She wanted to scream, cry, celebrate, fall limp, and throw a tantrum all at once. He was dead, the bastard who had scared her witless, had died of a measly heart attack. He had nearly beat her to deathbut hadfound his end in a few sticky blood cells. Then odd guilt hit her like a wave. She didn't want anyone to die…just be punished. She feltawkward wishing more had happened to him to bring him to his death bed.

"They want you to go check on the body." His voice hit her like a ton of bricks.

"You're kidding." Her eyes now focused on his face for the first time since he had come in. Perspiration lightly condensed then danced down his forehead. He had gotten the call on his way out, skipping the elevator back up and making a long run up the four levels of stairs. He shook his head lightly, Angela's eyes now as wide as her own.

"They can't have her do that, not after what he did to her." So she told you, he thought, feeling slightly betrayed though he knew they were best friends and probably shared things he couldn't even imagine they knew or felt.

"They want you there in an hour; I don't want you to go Bones."

"Me either Tempe, this cant be good for you."

"Why do they want me there?" she asked looking Booth straight in the eyes.

"They want to compare your wounds to those he received when you fought back."

"Can't they do that without me there? I've had pictures taken of my wounds and I'm sure they did the same for him."

"They want to know who caused what wounds."

Her eyebrow rose. "Who else attacked him?"

"An orderly was fired the day after you and Bailey arrived for attacking the good doctor. The orderly apparently was a fan of your book and medical work and took the opportunity to make Bailey pay for what he did to you." Both of the women before him stared, amazed. "The guy was apparently a big fan; I'm surprised he didn't get you to sign a bed pan or something."

"So they want me to tell them what wounds I created?" he nodded his head to her.

"Ok…" she sighed looking down. "Then I'll do it."

"Bren, are you sure you can handle this now?"

Brennan's eyes shot to Angela, glittering with determination and independence.

"I work with dead people everyday, what makes this so different? He's no longer a psychopath; he's flesh, skin and bones, nothing more. I can handle that, I have for the whole of my career."

Booth and Angela exchanged looks.

"I'm not so sure you should Bones."

"It's my choice, and I want to do this." He nodded, his hands sliding into his pant's pockets. "Fine." He sighed "I'll give you a ride."

"I'm coming too." Angela butt in, her arms crossed over her chest, her deep brown eyes darting between the two. Booth nodded his head. Leaving the room he called to Angela as he slipped through Brennan's bedroom door. "Still have some eggs left?"

"On the counter." She called back, her eyes never leaving her friend. "I can't believe your going to do this sweetie."

"I feel like I need to Ange, like it's my duty."

"You don't have to do anything."

"I know…but this is…proof to me. Proof he's gone, that he can't find me again."

"Aw, Bren." Her friend held her tight in a hug now, then pulled away, her hands holding onto Temperance's shoulders in a reassuring squeeze. "With Booth, or me, or the squints, with the law he wasn't going to find you again, he was going to rot on his ass in a jail somewhere Tempe." She tried a weak smile. "Come on, let's go help booth finish off your eggs."

They both stepped from the room, a chill falling over Temperance as though she had been touched by the spirit of cold himself. His fingers laced through her hair, walking gently like little men down her neck and spine, reaching her stomach and wrapping his frozen arms around her mid drift. She would rather stay in the cold embrace than face the dead body of her captor, of the bringer of heat; the devil himself.

A/n: Soooo sorry it took so long. I hit writers block for the first time in this entire fic, so I'm not really liking this chapter, but please tell me what you thought of it. Hope you enjoy. Sorry if the sleeping position is hardto understand,but if you do get it, hopefully its really cute.