Disclaimer: I don't own Bones

Nertoold54: LOL I've never thought of Hodgins as hot. He's cute in that you're my best guy friend way but not my type. LOL
1956JohnDeere50: I had to let my inner smartass out!
Coterie2: oooh good idea a one shot of Hacker's miserable trip to Africa. I could have him shot. THat might sooth some people's blood lust *looks at Chkgun93*
Chkgun93: Yeah it's a little darker than my usual stuff. But there are yummy cars in the garage *wiggles eyebrows* I'm such a tom boy, I'd love to get my hands on most of those cars and just get all greasy.

Thank you everyone for your awesome reviews! I'm glad you enjoyed the miranda rights lol.


Chapter 28

The team began to head for the door of Cullen's office when they stopped at the Deputy Director's voice.

"Booth, just a moment," Cullen said. Booth and the team stopped and turned to look at Cullen.

"You have been the liaison to the Jeffersonian for several years now," Cullen started and Booth's heart almost stopped.

"You have worked well with the team and have even started training other agents on how to work with them. This will raise the solve rate on our murder investigations tenfold. I believe, it is time for a promotion. Now, I don't want to take you out of the field. You are too good at what you do. So, I would like to offer you the position of Supervisory Special Agent. This will put you in charge of the contract between the Jeffersonian and the FBI. You will pick the agents who work with the Jeffersonian as well as make the decision tas to which squints to allow in the field," Cullen said with a smile.

Booth's mouth fell open and Cam leaned forward towards his shoulder.

"Take it, Booth. Take the promotion," Cam prompted him.

"Thank you, sir. I definitely want this," Booth said, a grin spreading across his face. Cullen stepped over a moaning Hacker and shook Booth's hand.

"I'll have the paper work on your desk before this case is wrapped up," Cullen promised Booth.

The Jeffersonian team filed out of Cullen's office leaving a moaning Hacker, smirking Cullen and stunned set of Deputy Directors behind. Booth got on the elevator followed by the rest of the team and rode down to the parking garage.

"Booth, I have something for you," Cam called out. Booth followed Cam to her car and stood waiting. Cam swung her back door open and pulled out a black messenger bag.

"This is a laptop and connection to the Jeffersonian server. You can still keep an eye on her until she is released from the hospital. You will have to be careful because, unless someone moves the computer, she will be able to see you," Cam said.

"Thank you," Booth said in a low voice. Nodding, Cam climbed in to her car and left Booth standing next to the parking space. Booth walked at a sedate pace to his SUV, climbed in then slowly made his way back to his apartment.

Washington General Hospital
8:00AM

Brennan's eyes fluttered open and she glanced around the hospital room. Frowning she searched her memory for what had happened to her. The doctors had told her what had happened but she had no direct memory of the event. As she lay staring at the ceiling, the nurse from the day before walked into the room.

"Good Morning, Dr. Brennan. My name is Janet. I did not introduce myself yesterday. Dr. Sweets is supposed to be here in a few moments. Then later today, we have a physical therapist coming in to go over your motor function. We need to make sure you are in good working order," Janet said with a smile that reached all the way to her eyes.

"Thank you," Brennan said still looking around the room. Looking up at a light tap on her door, Brennan spotted Dr. Sweets standing in the doorway.

"Come in, Dr. Sweets," Brennan said.

"Good morning, Dr. Brennan. How are you this morning?" Sweets asked, giving Brennan his happy smile.

"Other than having no memory of the last thirteen years, I am fine," Brennan said sarcastically.

Sweets put his hands in his pockets and rocked back slightly on his heels. The Dr. Brennan from a week ago was peeking through. Sweets was about to say something when his phone rang. Growling just a little bit, he glanced at the caller ID.

"Would you excuse me, Dr. Brennan? This is an important call," Sweets said.

"Go ahead Dr. Sweets," Brennan said as she saw an orderly carrying in her breakfast tray. Sweets stepped out into the hall.

"What, Booth?" Sweets answered the phone.

"Dr. Sweets, you are standing next to the door and I am still able to hear you," Brennan called out. Sweets strode down the hall as he listened to what Booth was saying.

"You want me to do what? Don't you think that might be considered invasion of her privacy? If you want her to trust you until she gets her memory back you'll have to...fine," Sweets sighed as he hung up the phone and walked back to Brennan's room.

"So, Dr. Sweets, how well do you know me?" Brennan asked, looking Sweets in the eye.

"Not as well as your partner or best friend, but pretty well," Sweets said truthfully.

"Why would I have a partner?" Brennan asked Sweets a frown on her face.

"For the last six years you have been working with the FBI homicide division to solve murders. You have been partnered with Seeley Booth for that entire time," Sweets said cautiously.

Brennan leaned back in the bed and searched her memory. A picture of a very naked, wet, man wearing a beer hat popped into her mind. The conversation that followed played back into her mind. In her memory she looked up into this man's eyes, a flash of pain shot through her head and then cleared.

"Seeley Booth was here yesterday when I woke up. He called me Bones and baby. Not that I like either of those names. Who does he think he is calling me 'baby'?" Brennan said in an irritated tone.

"Yes, that was Booth. Over the last six years you two have become very close," Sweets said carefully tip-toeing around their relationship.

"Why was I seeing you?" Brennan asked in a blunt manner.

"Dr. Brennan, there are some things that are best left to you to remember. We are trying not to jar your memory but let it come back as it will. Some people with retrograde amnesia go to bed and wake up remembering everything. Some people it comes back over a few weeks, and some it takes years to fully remember everything," Sweets explained.

"Okay," Brennan agreed.

"However, there are some things you should know. I know that when you left college, you did not have a lot of money when you started. Since then, you have become a world renowned Forensic Anthropologist and a best-selling author. You are most definitely financially stable," Sweets explained slowly.

"How financially stable?" Brennan asked in curiosity. Sweets cleared his throat and looked around the room trying to decide how to tell her. Deciding to be straight forward he looked her in the eyes.

"I am not exactly sure about the amounts but I would say somewhere in the millions," Sweets told her.

Brennan's face paled slightly and Sweets looked at her with concern. Brennan saw a movement from the corner of her eye as someone walked past the web cam in the Jeffersonian.

"What is that?" Brennan asked, pointing towards the computer.

"That is a link to the Jeffersonian Institute. Your friends were very worried about you and kept watch through the video feed," Sweets said briefly, leaving out that Booth had been using it to work while he stayed with her.

"So, how are we going to go about getting my memory back?" Brennan questioned Sweets with focused look on her face.

"After you are discharged from the hospital, you are going to go home. Take a few days to get comfortable. Then we will reintroduce you to your life. Your friends and family have been warned about jarring your memory, so they will introduce themselves," Sweets said slowly.

"What about Booth? Will he be introducing himself?" Brennan asked. A smile spread across Sweets face. Brennan looked at him with curiosity.

"Yes, I am sure that he will. He is taking a few days off to deal with a few things," Sweets explained and Brennan nodded.

"Why did you smile when I asked you that?" Brennan asked a look of confusion crossing her face.

"Dr. Brennan, there are things about your personality that have changed over the years. You have evolved, at least that is how you explain it. Things from your evolution and your memory are subconsciously slipping through. I never told you that Booth preferred to be called by his last name only, yet you just did it," Sweets explained with a smile.

A smile crossed Brennan's face as she realized that Booth did in fact not like to be called by his first name.

"His brother calls him 'Seeley' or 'Seel' and Pops calls him 'shrimp'," Brennan said thoughtfully. Sweets mouth fell open and he began laugh at Pops nickname for Booth.

"Oh, I so did not know that," Sweets said, giggling. Cam's face appeared on the computer screen.

"Dr. Sweets, can you please keep your laughter quieter? Your laugh is echoing across the lab," Cam admonished.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Saroyan,...I just...seriously 'Shrimp'?" Sweets said, his laughter rolling out. Brennan sat on the bed looking very confused.

"Oh, dear lord. Dr. Sweets, you are never to say that to Booth. He will kill you. The only one who can call him that is Hank," Cam gasped out her eyes going wide.

"Okay, okay, I can't anyway, as it is part of my therapy session with Dr. Brennan. It is considered confidential. However, I will still laugh when I see him," Sweets said, still slightly giggling.

"Did I do something wrong?" Brennan asked afraid that she had said something she shouldn't have.

"No. Not at all, Dr. Brennan. That was a memory subconsciously slipping through. It is a good thing," Sweets said encouragingly. Brennan sighed and lightly rubbed her temples to ease the pain that had started forming there.

"Dr. Brennan, this is going to be a time consuming process. Try not to push too hard. I can see you are getting tired. I will come back this afternoon. Try to rest," Sweets said as he stood up.

Walking to the computer, he pushed the table over to a corner where it was out of her sight but the bed was still visible. Tapping a few keys he opened a connection to Booth's computer, which remained black.

Tapping a few more keys he split the screen and the Jeffersonian appeared on half of the screen, the other half remaining black. Sweets walked quietly from the door and headed down the hallway. Brennan fell into a light doze, tired from the discussion.

Booth's Garage
10:00 am

Booth walked through the door carrying the computer bag over his shoulder. Walking into the garage, he lifted one of the bay doors then set the computer up in the corner. He split the screen in the same fashion Sweets had. Then he muted the sounds on the screen to Brennan's room. Picking up his cell phone he sent a quick message.

Booth: James I have the web cam set up if you need anything. You will have to connect to my computer from the lab.

James: Okay taking care of it now.

A minute later, James' face appeared on the screen and his mouth fell open. James saw Booth standing there in a beater and black jeans, his muscles clearly on display.

"Dude you are seriously ripped," James said swallowing.

"I had a lot of frustration to work off in the last six years," Booth smirked.

"Dear lord in heaven. Is that a... a ..'71 'cuda behind you?" James asked, his eyes bugging at the sight of the muscle cars parked behind Booth.

"No, it's a '70," Booth corrected with a frown.

"Holy Hell, you make way too much money," James said, glaring at Booth in jealousy.

"They were a gift," Booth said shortly.

"I want your friends then," James said with a snort.

"Anyway, there is a whistle on your side if you need my attention," Booth said, his eyes on the other side of the screen scanning Brennan's sleeping form.

James nodded shortly then walked away from the computer screen. Booth turned, looked at the cars and a small smile crept across his face. Walking to the GTX, he popped the latch and looked under the hood. Walking back to the office he picked up the keys. Placing the key in the ignition, he turned it and a roar sounded throughout the garage. Booth listened to the sound of the engine. Tapping the gas pedal, he listened again.

He swallowed at the sound of the hemi engine's throaty roar. Turning the car off, he walked around the garage and began scouting out the tools he would need. The engine needed a rebuild. It was functional but not running it's best. Booth looked up at the sound of the whistle echoing through the garage.

Walking over to the screen, he bent over looking to see who it was. Wendell sat there his mouth hanging open at sight of the vehicles behind Booth.

"You need something Wendell?" Booth asked, leaning on the table looking into the screen.

"I.. ah … had to make sure everything was okay. That sound was really loud," Wendell said with a glazed look. Angela walked by and pushed Wendell from in front of the screen.

"Wendell is currently experiencing loss of blood to his head, it all went south when you revved that engine. Although that hemi does need a little fine tuning. Maybe a rebuild would be soothing," Angela told Booth, cheekily grinning. Booth's eyebrow raised into his hairline at Angela's casual knowledge of engines.

"What? You know who my father is. He had a garage. I was a wrench monkey when I was younger. Anyway, I wondered what she was doing with those. Now I know," Angela said.

Booth gave a clipped nod and walked away from the screen. Angela gave a wolf whistle as he walked away, admiring the view. Booth walked to the tool case, glanced at it then with a nod unlocked the wheels and pushed it towards the car. Locking the wheels, he turned and leaned over the side of the car. Sticking his head under the hood, he looked for the hinges to the hood.

Eying the hinges, he turned around, grabbed the wrench and began to remove the bolts from the hood support hinges. For the rest of the morning, anyone walking by the door where the computer was sitting, heard the rhythmic sound of tools spattered by the occasional curse. At lunch time, Booth stood up straight with a sigh. The hood was laying on the floor and the engine was now chained to the hoist.

Using the hoist, he lifted the engine out from the GTX and pushed the hoist to the side. Glancing between the body of the car and the engine, Booth realized the engine needed less work. Making the decision to work on the body first, he turned towards the car. As he moved to remove the doors, he noticed Angela, Cam and a plethora of interns sitting gathered around the computer eating popcorn. Rolling his eyes, he walked over and leaned down causing the muscles across his shoulders and chest to ripple. Hearing sighs from the back ground, he glared at the screen. Angela smirked and put a piece of popcorn in her mouth.

"I may not be able to touch but I can sure as hell look," Angela continued to smirk. Raising his eyebrow. He looked at Cam, who just smiled.

"Nothing like a refresher course," Cam said, grinning devilishly. Booth sighed and walked away from the computer.

Washington General Hospital
1:00PM

Brennan looked up as a man strode in through the door.

"Hi, Dr. Brennan, I will be your physical therapist and my name is Bill," the man introduced himself. Brennan put out her hand.

"Nice to meet you," she said, firmly gripping his hand.

"Well, I see the muscles in your hand are good," Bill said, smiling.

Bill proceeded to thoroughly examine his beautiful patient. Little did he realize that there was someone watching over his shoulder. Booth ground his teeth but let the man do the examination. He was being a little more handsy than Booth liked but he was in fact a physical therapist.

"Well, Dr. Brennan, it would seem that your muscles do not not seem to atrophied to the point of being nonfunctional. However, before you leave the hospital, I would suggest that you spend half an hour twice a day walking the halls. If you would like, I can come to walk with you," Bill offered.

"I have several consultations with my psychologist, so I can walk with him," Brennan said in an absentminded tone.

Why was the thought that Booth would hit this man for saying something like that flashing across her mind?

"Someone as beautiful as you should surely not need a psychologist," Bill said with sincerity.

"Beauty has nothing to do with mental or emotional capability. I have a psychologist because I suffer from retrograde amnesia due to a traumatic head injury," Brennan said bluntly.

"I am sorry to hear that. Well, if and when you feel up to it, give me a call maybe we can go out," Bill said handing her a card. Something about this felt so wrong but she smiled and took his card anyway.


A/N How unprofessional right? Okay Let's see what's up for tomorrow...*cheesy grin*...Threats, instincts, subconcious, nekkidness, ponies, the diner, ducks, and snot. So that's a fun list. Let's see how it's all tied together.

Reviews are awesome! So please feel free to leave one =D please?