A/N: Aaaaaaand it's Sunday! We'll describe Cummings' physical appearance in this chapter. The reviews for last chapter were overwhelming, thank you all so much. We hope you'll enjoy this chapter, it's a longer one and you'll see why we had so much fun writing it!

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Chapter 11 – More than you think

She dreaded the moment when the security agent would call her and pronounce his name. She dreaded the moment when he'd appear on the doorstep of her office. She could already see the mocking smile on his face, hear his sarcastic comments, and it made her sick. His entire appearance made her sick; the blond hair that reached his cheeks and looked like it had been carefully washed with women's natural gloss shampoo, his forced casual attitude, his slick movements. Above all these piercing green eyes which always seemed to gleam with some sort of disdain whenever he talked to people who weren't his boss. Oh, those eyes… That look… Brennan huffed. She had to work on this, or the undercover work would be absolute hell. And she didn't want that, did she? She knew that she had to get a grip on herself if she wanted to close the case quickly. She'd bear him and his stupid little game so that she'd be done with it. So that she could catch the bastard who had been playing with her boundaries during two weeks. So that she could get rid of Cummings. So that she could go back to Booth.

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"See you, Derek!"

Booth closed the door behind the nurse and wheeled back to the living room, where he held still beside the telephone. He had thought of several ways to say and ask what he wanted to, but none seemed appropriate. He was probably going to be barked at, eventually, but never mind. He had to do it, he couldn't wait any more.

"Cullen."

"Sir, this is Booth."

"Booth! Good to hear from you. How's the recovery going?"

Cullen's voice never ceased to surprise him. Never had he been so friendly since Booth had been stuck at home. If he hadn't known his boss as well as he did, he would have believed that Cullen actually missed him.

"Oh, I guess I can't complain; I am able to move my left leg, now we're hoping for my right one to get the same idea."

"We?"

"Uhm, yes. My nurse, my son, I— Anyway, Bo— Doctor Brennan told me you're sending her undercover with her temporary partner. With all due respect, Sir, are you sure that's a good idea?" The silence Cullen gave him wasn't a good sign. "I mean, while I was still on the case we both walked through that neighbourhood a lot, and we questioned these people. They will know who she is the minute she arrives and Cummings' cover will be blown, putting them both in danger."

Cullen laughed, but as he knew fairly well that he hadn't said anything funny, Booth thought that it was definitely not a good sign.

"Do you take me for a fool, Agent Booth? We've arranged a disguise for Doctor Brennan. Change of dress, different hair-colour, you know the drill. She won't be exposed to any more than the inevitable danger. Besides, Cummings has done undercover work before. He knows these people, they already trust him."

"How is he going to explain his absence?"

"That's what we need Doctor Brennan for. She'll be acting as 'Greg Furgenson's' girlfriend, with whom he's been spending all this time."

"How do we know we can you trust him?" Booth bit his lower lip. This time, he had gone too far, and he knew it. He closed his eyes, awaiting his boss' reaction, but it seemed as if Cullen, like most people, was more patient and nice with handicapped people than he usually was. A realisation which reassured him, and annoyed him, at the same time.

"Who— Cummings? 'We' don't have to trust him, Booth; I do," Cullen retorted in a calm but firm voice. "Besides, I don't have much of a choice here. We need to get someone undercover quickly and Cummings's cover is still intact. He has these people's trust. He'll ensure Doctor Brennan's security. I gave him precise instructions. There's nothing to suggest he won't follow them."

Booth sighed in defeat. There was plenty to suggest he wouldn't. What if he tried to hurt her because she was in his way or something, or made a false move? What if these sexual innuendos of him turned into assault? But no, Bones wouldn't let that happen. She'd kick his balls right up to his stomach if he dared touch her inappropriately.

It seemed like there was nothing he could do to prevent this undercover thing from happening, after all. Nor could he explain Cullen why he ought not to trust Cummings because Bones never filed a complaint. It would only put her in a difficult position and that wasn't something she needed right now. Not on top of everything else. Not with the risk of Cullen simply telling her to ignore Cumming's behaviour.

"Okay, Sir, I understand. One last thing though: Why was Cummings fired from Narcotics?"

"What are you doing, investigating him? I don't need to tell you this."

Booth sighed inwardly. He had been expecting this kind of answer, but he had had to ask.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I guess I'm just a little worried about my partner. She's under enough stress already and we shouldn't forget that she was held hostage and traumatised for two weeks, not so long ago. I don't want her to have to endure any more."

"I understand your concern, Booth. Unfortunately this might be crucial to the case so I have to send her. She has a trained eye for forensic evidence and where to find it whereas Cumming's a rookie in our department. What's more, I haven't received a call from her telling me she refuses the assignment. My hands are pretty much tied, but once this case is finished I'll offer her the help of our best counsellors."

"Thank you, Sir. That's very generous." Not that she'll accept any help from a trained psychologist…

"Just focus on your recovery. That's an order. I can't afford to lose you."

"I will. Have a good day, Sir."

After he hung up, Booth kept staring at the phone for a long moment. He had had to call, even though he had known the answer before he dialled Cullen's number. He had had to try, even if the result was the same. But there was something else he wanted to do for her. Something that he had been thinking about during the past days—thinking about it, the last weeks would be closer to the truth. He could have called to have it and be delivered at home, and it would have been much easier for him. But then, the gesture wouldn't mean the same.

That's why he grabbed his sweater, swallowed his pride, and went out of the house.

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When she pushed the door open and entered, what struck her first was the delicious floral smell that seemed to fill the house. Then, it was Booth, a childish, excited grin on his face, who looked like he had been waiting impatiently for her to return. And eventually, she noticed them on the counter, in a beautiful blue vase. Fragrant, as she liked them. Yellow in the centre with white exterior petals, as she preferred them. Daffodils. Her favourite flowers.

Suddenly, all the stress of her day, all the dread of the week to come, was forgotten, and a wonderful smile spread across her lips that brightened her tired features. She let her gaze leave the bunch and turned it to Booth. "That's very nice of you, Booth, that's—How did you know?"

"I know you better than you think, Bones," he replied with an enigmatic look in his eyes.

"You called Angela, right?"

He chuckled. "No, I didn't. Is it so hard to face that I know you well?"

"No, I mean—I just don't quite understand how you can possibly know that."

"Is it that important?" he shrugged.

Her smile grew wider as she shook her head. "No. Thank you, Booth." She let her purse drop to the floor before getting rid of her coat and shoes. She stepped towards the counter to examine the flowers more closely. "They are beautiful," she said after breathing in their fragrance. "You gotta give me the name of your florist."

"The card is on the counter."

Indeed, she found it and took it in her hand to read it.

"They don't specify that they make deliveries, but okay, I'll—"

"Well, they don't."

"What do you mean, they don't?" Brennan asked, surprised. "Did you send Derek to buy these? You're impossible! He's a nurse, not an errand boy," she said with a reproachful tone.

"I did not send Derek or anyone else. I went there by myself," he declared with pride.

She seemed suddenly shocked and stared at him with wide eyes and her mouth half-open. "You went out?" she finally managed to utter.

He confirmed this with a simple nod.

"By yourself?"

Another nod.

"Oh— Wow— I— That's great Booth, I'm proud of you, I— I'm just surprised because yesterday, you—"

"Ah, you know, this is sort of my way of apologising for what happened yesterday."

Her arms dropped to each side of her body and she sighed. "You didn't need to do all this, Booth. I know what you're going through."

"And I know what you're going through."

She nodded. "I guess that makes us quite a pathetic couple, then."

Booth snorted. "Couple, Bones?" he asked with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes and a smirk on his face.

Giving him her exasperated roll-of-the-eyes, she replied, "Not that kind of couple of course. You know what I mean, stop teasing me."

The sound of the doorbell ringing interrupted their conversation and Brennan hurried to the door.

"That must be Parker and Rebecca," she announced over her shoulder with a smile. Behind her, Booth swallowed. This was going to be the first time his ex-wife and son would see him in his wheelchair. He wondered how they would react. Well, Rebecca would probably be the first to wipe the pity-look off her face. But Parker… he wasn't sure what he'd do. Knowing him, he'd either be afraid and hide behind his mother or would jump straight onto his lap as though nothing had changed.

"Hey Bones," Booth heard the little boy cheerily greet his partner. He wondered how she would react to being called by her nickname by his son. Would she feel annoyed or would she smile?

"Hello Parker, Rebecca," he heard his partner reply politely. Then the door closed and Parker came darting into the living room.

"Hey bud," Booth greeted his son, still dreading his reaction upon seeing him in a wheelchair.

"DADDY!" the six-year-old exclaimed and ran towards his father, then dived onto his lap, hugging him tightly. His apprehension now disappeared, Booth hugged him back just as hard, once again incredibly thankful for this little miracle that was his son and the happiness he brought him.

"Honey, be careful with your Daddy. He's hurt, remember?" Rebecca cut in softly.

"Did I hurt you, Daddy?" The boy looked up into his father's face, questioningly.

"Naw, bud. Your Daddy can handle a little boy like you."

"I'm not little," Parker pointed out indignantly. "Why do you keep teasing me by saying that? I don't tell you you're little because you're in a wheelchair."

"Honey, that's enough. Don't hurt your father's feelings," Rebecca quietly scolded her son.

"It's all right, Rebecca, don't worry. Parker's right. We shouldn't tease each other with being little, should we?"

Parker shook his head fervently, sending the blond locks to dance around his face as he did so.

"Well, I have his suitcase here. I suppose that with Doctor Brennan's help you two will be okay?" The last question was directed at Brennan, who had been watching the family interact from a slight distance; she never meant to intrude on anything.

"They'll be fine," she confirmed.

"Good. Well then, I have to run. Meeting at five," Rebecca quickly explained. "Good luck Seeley," she said before turning to her son. "Behave yourself, darling," she told Parker and gave him a hug and then a kiss. "Doctor Brennan," she nodded towards the forensic anthropologist and shook her hand, "May you still be alive after three days with these two."

"I will," Brennan assured her and led her to the door. After she closed it, she turned around and met her partner's expectant gaze. Was she supposed to say something now?

"She seems like a good mother," she awkwardly stated.

"I have the bestest mommy in the world!" Parker smiled, still comfortably cuddled up with his father. "And you, Bones, do you have a great mom, too?"

Booth's eyes widened and he looked at her apologetically, but she slightly shook her head to let him know it was okay.

"Yes, Parker, my mother was very sweet. I loved her very much."

"Why 'loved'? Don't you love her anymore?"

"Uhm, well the truth is— is that she's— an angel now," she quickly corrected herself when noticing Booth's pleading expression. Even though she didn't agree with him that kids shouldn't always know the truth and needed to be lied to supposedly for their own sakes, she respected his way of raising his son and didn't argue.

"Oh," Parker's nose wrinkled as he thought about this for a second. "I guess being an angel is very good, but I'd like my mommy to live with me."

"Of course," Brennan answered in a slightly small voice and met Booth's gaze momentarily, requesting him to take over the conversation now. Somehow this family stuff always left her feeling out-of-place and lonely, like she didn't have the right to engage.

"Are you thirsty, bud? How about a drink?" Booth quickly suggested.

"Apple juice!" Parker stated with satisfaction.

"But we don't have—" Brennan began, then saw Booth closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"Just look inside the fridge, Bones."

She did and found there, indeed, a pack of apple juice.

"You went to the groceries store as well?" she asked disbelievingly while filling a glass for Parker and then another one for Booth. "I must say that surprises me. I thought you'd be way too stubborn for that."

"I prefer my surrender to your wrath," he replied while gratefully taking the glass with juice from her. "Thanks."

"Thank you, Bones," Parker said quickly, like a boy who got taught his manners from an early age, and started gulping down the liquid. "Did Daddy buy you those flowers?" he inquired innocently upon noticing the blue vase of daffodils.

"Why would you think that?" she smiled.

"Oh because Daddy never buys flowers except for ladies."

"Good reasoning. He did buy me these."

"Did you say 'thank you'?"

"Of course."

"Did you give him a hug? It's a big present, then you're supposed to give people a hug to say a bigger thank-you."

"I wanted to, but the doorbell interrupted me."

"Who was at the door?"

"You."

"Haha, I knew that!"

Brennan laughed at the child's silliness and watched him finish his glass with a tender look which Booth didn't miss noticing. He knew his son was adorable–hell, he made new friends every time they went to the playground, but that he was capable of softening Bones this way, he couldn't have wished for.

Then, Parker jumped off his father's lap and gazed up at her. "Now you can hug him," he announced matter-of-factly and proceeded towards the counter to place his empty glass in the sink.

As if it was exactly what he was waiting for, Booth opened his arms to Brennan and grinned. The humour and, more importantly, the inevitability of the situation prompted her to bend forward and embrace her partner as he softly patted her back.

"Like this, Parker?"

"Yes, that's very good," the boy approved and watched as his dad and Bones moved apart again to let him regain his seat.

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She had just got into bed and let herself fall into a drowsy slumber when the door to her room opened. Although she knew it couldn't be him, her heart skipped a beat and she was holding her breath, subconsciously. She lay there in the dark and waited for what was to come.

"Bones?" a little voice sounded from the centre of the room, and then she heard a sniff.

"Parker. What's wrong?" she asked as she sat up and switched on the lamp on her nightstand. The form of the little boy was now illuminated and she couldn't keep herself from thinking how adorable she thought he looked in his blue pyjamas, his blond hair slightly ruffled, on his bare feet with tiny toes and his hands hanging limply beside his little body. Then she noticed his shoulders shook slightly and he sniffed some more.

"My daddy's so different when he's sitting in his wheelchair," he sobbed and rubbed his eyes with his little fist, the sight nearly breaking Brennan's heart, so she threw back the covers and swung her legs over the bedside, getting to her—also bare—feet.

She sank to her knees in front of him and opened her arms. Parker needed no further encouragement and flung his arms around her neck, burying his face in her neck as well while she held him tightly. Brennan vaguely remembered her mother comforting her like this, on her level, when she was a child Parker's age.

"Your daddy is going to be fine, Parker. He's going to be just like before," she comforted him as she stroked his hair, wondering where the idea for this action had come from. She wasn't at all used to communicating with children and frankly hadn't a clue as to what she ought to do, exactly. Yet this just felt right and she knew that children needed physical comfort.

"But I am so worried!" he cried.

"I know. I am too, sometimes. How can I make you feel better? Do you want a glass of milk? Or should I read you a story?" Brennan pulled back and took the boy's face between her hands, gently wiping away some big tears that rolled down his soft cheeks.

She'd seen Booth do the same that afternoon when Parker was playing in the backyard and tripped and hurt his knee. He'd come back inside with tear-stained red cheeks and his scarf and winter-jacket made him look like a little elf. While he'd sat on Booth's lap, Brennan had cleaned the abrasion on Parker's knee and refused to put a band-aid over it, for, she told him, it was best to let the tiny scrapes close to the air and then he'd be fine. Since she was a doctor, Parker had been okay with this.

During the day, Booth and Parker had played with army toys at the dinner table and invited Brennan to join them in a game of Rummikub, a European game which Brennan easily won time after time.

"Bones, this is not how you play games with kids!" Booth eventually scolded her.

"But—my father never let me win when I was little," Brennan stated innocently.

"But this one does," he whispered tellingly and received a nod from her that she understood.

After letting him win a few games, Parker had immediately warmed up to her and started telling her about school and his mom and mommy's boyfriend and how much he liked the zoo and dangerous animals and more that Brennan couldn't remember precisely. As they had watched TV, Parker suddenly decided to sit on her lap and stayed that way for a long time, leaving Brennan surprised, but not entirely uncomfortable.

She had noticed, however, that as it became clear how many things Booth couldn't do himself from his chair, the little boy observed his father with some kind of shock in his brown eyes.

"I w—want to sleep with—with Daddy," Parker hiccupped and Brennan smiled.

"All right. Let's go ask him then, shall we?"

She stood up and attempted to leave her room, but Parker stayed put in front of her and raised his arms, indicating he wanted to be carried. Without any further hesitation, Brennan picked up the little boy and sat him on her hip as he rested his head on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her.

The warmth from his bed still lingered on him and he felt warm against her. As she quietly moved through the house, Parker yawned a couple of times and for reasons she did not, and probably would never understand, she suddenly felt the urge to stop there, in the living room, by the window through which moonlight pooled on the cool floor, with the child in her arms, and enjoy the feeling. She was very aware of the sound of his breathing and the beating of his little heart so close to hers and wanted to pull the boy a bit closer, as if to protect him from danger she couldn't point out. Closing her eyes, she brushed her nose against the soft, delicate skin of his temple, before relishing in the soothing smell of his silky blond hair. Somehow, it felt like holding this child in her arms could chase any terrifying thoughts from her mind, clean her body of any dirty or painful remnants.

She opened her eyes abruptly, feeling suddenly like she was stealing Booth's family from him and swiftly continued her way towards his bedroom.

She opened it a crack and peeked around the corner, her eyes settling upon the figure under the covers.

"Booth?" she called softly and Parker lifted his head off her shoulder so he could watch.

"Daddy, wake up please!"

The bump on the bed stirred and Booth grudgingly opened his eyes, noticing his partner and his son in the doorway, marvelling at the view of Parker comfortably settled in her arms.

"Booth, Parker wishes to sleep with you tonight," she explained.

"Oh," he uttered in a sleepy voice as his gaze was fixed on his partner's face. Somehow she looked like an angelic version of herself. The moonlight caught her eyes, making it seem as though they emitted a crystalline blue colour. Her pale skin contrasted starkly with her dark hair. Would she ever see herself as he did? She was so beautiful it was soothing.

"Can I, Daddy?" Parker brought him out of his trance.

"Of course you can, bud. Come over here," Booth motioned towards the empty half of the bed next to him and pulled away the covers. Brennan stepped inside now, Parker still settled on her hip, and gently lowered the boy onto the mattress. Parker immediately snuggled up against his father and closed his eyes as Brennan tucked the both of them in, then attempted to leave quietly.

"Wait! Aren't you going to sleep with us, Bones?" Parker sat up straight and his eyes were pleading her to stay.

"No, sweetie, I'm going back to my own room," she told him with a smile.

"Oh," he said with disappointment, "Will you give Daddy and me a goodnight kiss so we won't have nightmares?"

"Sure, Parker," she smiled and rounded the bed, then bent over to meet the boy's soft lips in a quick kiss. "Goodnight, Booth," she whispered to her partner, who, obviously, had already fallen asleep again. After a short hesitation, she pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. She wasn't going to disappoint the kid, was she?

"Goodnight Bones!" Parker whispered as she tiptoed out of the room and closed the door behind her. She made her way back to her room and snuggled up under the covers. When she fell asleep, for the first time since several days, there was a smile on her face. And the same smile was playing on Booth's mouth, for holding his sleeping son in his arms and relishing in the lingering feeling of his partner's lips on his forehead was better than a dream.

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He couldn't sleep. He couldn't even keep his eyes closed. Two days, and he'd have her in his power. He shifted onto his side, trying to find a more comfortable position. But his mind was too busy counting the hours left. He needed rest, but he couldn't help doing this.

He scolded himself silently. He was too excited, and it was no good. He couldn't afford to do it in a rush. He couldn't afford to do it badly.

He wondered what she was thinking about, at this very moment. He wondered if she was thinking of him. Maybe was she already asleep and dreaming of him—a nightmare in which he was the hero. Later, she'd wake up and wipe the sweat off her brow, still shaking. Or maybe she thought she was safe now. Maybe she thought it was over. The bitch.

Again, he shifted, to lie on his back, this time. Some more days and it would actually be over. But, hopefully, not in the way she expected it to.

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A/N: First of all, we hope Parker was natural, we don't want to use him as an 'instrument' to get our favourite non-couple to hug you see. But what's a story set at Booth's without that cute little boy, right? Catherine's got quite a lot of writing done during her vacation and we can assure you, it'll be suspenseful… As for the next chapter, it starts out rather sad and contains some humouring of Cummings. Have a good week everyone!