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Blue eyes glittering with repressed emotion, his mind whirling at what he had overheard, Hodgins almost missed Tyler's quiet command to his intern as it drifted out to where he was unashamedly listening in on their conversation. Stifling a squawk of alarm, he darted down the hospital hallway and skidded to a halt behind the counter at the nurses' station.
Crouching down, he duck-walked forward a few steps, trying to edge out of sight under the desktop. He heard the quick, light tread of footsteps as Amelia hurried past his hiding place, heading towards the elevator.
Quietly, Jack edged forward, pushing a rolling office chair aside slightly as he hunkered in to wait. Frowning as he replayed the overheard conversation in his mind, Hodgins scowled as he peered in the direction of Booth's room, worrying about what he might now be missing.
After a long second, he heard the quiet ding of the elevator followed by the subtle swoosh of the doors opening and closing. Cocking a wary ear towards the hospital room, Hodgins decided to hedge his bets and pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket, dialing it with a punch of a button.
He waited a moment as it connected, and then began to speak in a hushed tone when he heard the voice on the other end. "Ange?" He rose up slightly, trying to peek over the counter edge enough to eye the doorway.
Seeing no motion beyond the open door, he spoke with urgent swiftness, "Wait, Ange…don't ask questions…just listen." He ignored the slightly indignant splutter on the other end of the line and continued speaking, "Did you copy the data that was on that card?"
He nodded to himself as Angela answered him. "Okay, okay…" His voice grew more intense, his words swift and firm. "Ange, Dr. Brennan's in trouble." He huffed a sigh, grimaced, and rolled his eyes as she predictably interrupted him with a passionate question.
"Gravedigger type trouble, Ange." He answered her shortly, knowing that the succinct, if slightly overstated, summation would ensure her full cooperation until he could get to the Jeffersonian to explain further.
"Now, listen…" He spoke into the shocked silence that came from the other end of the connection. "Make another copy of the data. Put it on another card. Cullen and Tyler are on their way there. Don't let them know I called. Don't ask questions. Just give them the copy and pretend it's the original."
He listened as Angela asked another, this time very brief, question. He flinched as he saw a flicker of motion from within the hospital room and ducked back below the level of the counter. He lowered his voice and answered Angela's somewhat panicked query as he edged back further under the desk. "Yeah, I know…I know. Don't worry. Booth's got it."
His voice dropped to a stealthy whisper. "I can't explain right now, but I think we'll be there soon. Gotta go." Hodgins hurriedly disconnected the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket. As he did, Tyler and Cullen emerged from the room and paused just outside of Booth's door, both of them reaching into their pockets and pulling out their own cell phones.
Hearing the quiet murmur of their voices, Jack slid back further and concentrated on trying to be invisible. He held himself motionless as he listened, trying to catch what Cullen and Tyler were saying. He was so focused on them that he didn't hear the soft-soled footsteps that approached from behind where he was crouching.
A light tap on his shoulder sent his heart leaping into his throat and he only just managed to bite back a yelp of shock. Instead, he found himself whirling and almost falling, his knees screaming in protest at the abuse as he spun to face his attacker.
The nurse, Brenda, loomed over him and stared down at him with an expression that was a cross between world-weary amusement and pointed inquiry. Jack gaped up at her for a moment, his blue eyes wide and his mouth open in a soundless gasp of surprise. His imitation of a landed carp only deepened the amusement in her gaze.
Recovering quickly, he pressed a finger against his lips, his eyes beseeching, begging her to remain silent. When she crossed her arms over her chest, tipped her head to the side and pursed her lips in obvious disapproval, Hodgins theatrically and totally unselfconsciously folded his hands in front of his chest and implored soundlessly, mouthing the word, "Please." He shamelessly put every ounce of effort into appearing boyishly charming.
Brenda's eyes flicked up from the man crouching in front of her to the two men who had begun walking down the hall towards the station, recognizing them from the previous day. As she watched, both men drew closer, oblivious to her as they pressed cell phones to their ears, keeping their voices low while they hurried down the hallway.
Making a quick decision, she unfolded her arms and stepped around the man huddled behind the counter. She moved the chair slightly and stood in front of him, using her own body as a barrier. Hearing a soft sigh of relief from near her knees, she smiled faintly and edged closer to the desk. She dropped her gaze to the folders resting on the desk's surface while she watched the progress of the two suits from under downturned lashes.
Her eyes narrowed in thought as she shuffled through the stack of paperwork and found a folder with a familiar name on it. Flipping it open, she scanned the information in front of her in between sneaking quick glances down at the person hiding at her feet and then up at the two men who were now waiting for the elevator to reach the third floor.
When the soft hiss of the elevator doors closing behind them finally carried down the hall, Brenda angled her head to redirect her gaze onto the gimlet blue eyes that were still turned upwards, staring intently at her. "Okay." Her voice was dry, "I think the correct phrase is, 'the coast is clear'…" She eyed the man crouching next to her quizzically.
Jack bounced up, hesitated just long enough to flick a quick confirming glance down the hallway, and then reached out to drag the nurse into a spontaneous hug. "You're great!" He punctuated his statement with a swift smack of a kiss on Brenda's cheek before he pulled away with a chuckle. "Thanks!"
He started to go around her, his intent clearly to head back to Booth's room. She stopped him cold with the simple expediency of grabbing the back of his jacket. "Ohh, no you don't. Just wait a second there, Blue-eyes…"
Hodgins, caught, turned back to stare at her in question, the wide-eyed innocence on his face doing nothing this time to ease the stern frown Brenda was giving him. "Um…yeah?"
She released him and folded her arms across her chest, pinning him with a narrow-eyed stare. "What's going on?"
"Urm…" Hodgins flirted with the idea of lying, but a slight twitch under the woman's narrowing left eye made him shy away from spinning a tall tale. He met her eyes directly instead and summed up, "Our friend's in trouble. She's been kidnapped and they…" He jerked an insouciant thumb in the direction of the elevator, "Want us to let them 'handle everything'." Hodgins didn't have to air-quote the last words, his voice adequately conveyed his cynical opinion of the idea.
Brenda blinked at him, obviously weighing his statement.
Hodgins fidgeted under her unwavering stare.
"And let me guess…" Brenda finally sighed and planted her hands on her hips as she shook her head at him knowingly. "The friend in trouble is the young lady from the ER. The one that's that boy's…" With a twitch of her head in the direction of Booth's room, she indicated her patient as she continued, "Partner?" She gave the word the same wry intonation as she had while speaking with Brennan in the waiting room.
Jack nodded, his face solemn, his eyes earnest, almost quivering in his eagerness to dart down the hall and back into Booth's room.
After a long second, another sigh broke from Brenda and she shooed him away with a flip of her fingers. "Go." The command was followed by a not quite intelligible mumble that Hodgins wasn't sure he wanted repeated for clarification.
"Thanks." He flashed another mercurial smile and was moving before she had fully turned back to the desk.
He covered the distance between the desk and the doorway to Booth's room in a dash. Without hesitation, he slipped silently into the room, his ears picking up the sounds of an argument already in progress.
"What the hell were you thinking of?" Booth's voice was tight, and Hodgins imagined he could hear the man's teeth grinding in agitated frustration.
"Hey…what can I say, Seel?" Bass's voice was defensive and irritated. "You never could lie worth shit. You're too much of a damned boy scout…" Hodgins grinned appreciatively at the acerbic comment as he silently closed the door behind himself.
The noise Booth made in response was unmistakably rude and had an undercurrent of a muttered vulgarity. Bass's harried sigh carried even to where Hodgins was standing just inside the door. Hodgins paused, deciding to eavesdrop for a moment and see what information he could glean before he revealed his presence.
As he waited, a softly muffled thump punctuated Bass's next words. "Don't give me crap about it, okay? Look at the bright side. You're officially on medical leave, so your time is your own." The ripping sound of a zipper being yanked with more ferocity than care preceded the next statement and almost managed to cover a low groan that could only have come from Booth.
"I also managed to keep Cullen from slapping you with a direct order, so…"
The word trailed off and a brief hesitation followed before Bass's voice began again, his choked tone a bemused mix of glee, disbelief, and derision, "Oh, God, Seeley, those are just so very wrong on so many different levels."
A sound much like a snarl answered him. "Can it, Fish."
Bass answered with a snigger and continued his earlier train of thought, "Anyway, like I said, no direct order, so you can't be called on the carpet for disobeying orders…seeing how he didn't actually order you to stay out of it."
Jack's mouth twisted in a wry grin as he found himself thoroughly approving of Bass's style of logic. He heard the sound of rustling cloth and another pained groan before Bass spoke again.
"Oh, hey, here's a shirt." A soft 'twhap' and a startled grunt from Booth disrupted the flow of words for a moment before Bass continued smugly, "And, you've got the data card."
Booth's voice was filled with exasperation as he finally broke into Bass's monologue, "Oh, yeah, I've got the card. And…Ow!" A hiss of pain was interjected between the words, and when Booth continued speaking, small gasps broke his sentence into fragments, "Damn! So…what d'we do…when they get… to the Jeffersonian… and they find out…" This time it was a groan that interrupted the words before he continued, the strain in his voice more noticeable, "That Hodgins …already brought it… here to us, genius?" Sarcasm was thick in Booth's voice.
Hodgins frowned at the unmistakable current of pain he could hear buried beneath the mocking tone, and he edged one eye out to peer around the curtain. He watched the two men in front of him as they remained unaware of his presence.
Booth was half leaning, half sitting on the hospital bed. A pair of jeans had been dragged partially up his legs, the waistband having reached mid-thigh before his knees had given out on him, forcing him to collapse back down to rest on the bed.
Next to him rested a crumpled wad of black cloth which Hodgins presumed was the shirt Bass had mentioned. A white bandage slashed across Booth's stomach, creating a stark, sterile boundary between the waistband of a garishly colored pair of boxers below the knife wound, and the kaleidoscopic swirls of bruising that covered his torso above it.
Bass stood at the end of the bed, Booth's duffle bag gaping open in front of him. His back was to Hodgins and he couldn't see the younger man's face as he squirmed uncomfortably, at a loss to answer Booth's last question.
"Uh…" Bass punctuated the noncommittal grunt by pulling a set of worn sneakers and a pair of socks out of the duffle. He tossed them carefully towards Booth, where they landed next to the T-shirt he had flung at him earlier.
"Gimme your phone…" Booth heaved a harassed sigh and eyed the rest of the clothing with pained resignation while he held out his hand. "I'll call Hodgins, have him come back here and…"
Hodgins decided to take that as his cue. "No need." He slipped out from behind the curtain and started across the room towards the two FBI agents.
Both men flinched at his sudden appearance. Bass whirled around and gaped at him as he came closer. Booth, on the other hand, recovered quickly. He blinked owlishly once, and then a faint grin curved his mouth as he let his hand drop. Deciding to take Hodgins's appearance in stride, Booth picked up the T-shirt and shook it out.
"I thought you left…" Bass's statement was more of a question as he glanced from Hodgins to the door behind him.
Jack grinned wolfishly at him. "Nope."
As Hodgins drew near, Booth slipped one arm of the T-shirt over his cast, pulling the material up to his shoulder. Ducking slightly and tugging with his left hand, he managed to get the shirt over his head. Jack snorted his amusement at the tousled mess the shirt made of the man's normally impeccable hair.
Booth flicked him a wry twist of his lips as, with a poorly disguised wince, he worked his left arm into its sleeve and gingerly pulled the shirt down over his battered body. His voice was strained and he was obviously trying to make an effort to hide pain as he asked, "You heard?" He correctly assumed that the conspiracy-theory gene that ran rampant in Hodgins's makeup would have had the other man listening in on the conversation that had taken place in the room.
"Yeah." Hodgins met his grim stare with one of his own, a flare of defiant anger glinting in his eyes. Booth nodded appreciatively at what he saw in the other man's gaze. He tugged the tiny plastic baggie out from under the edge of his cast and held it out to the entomologist.
"So?" Only one word was needed between them as Booth's eyes silently questioned him.
Knowing from past experience that Booth was asking for an update, Hodgins drew in a deep breath and informed him with quiet succinctness, "I called Angela. She'd already made a copy of the data for us to work with, so she's going to copy it onto another card and give that one to Cullen." Hodgins held Booth's eyes as he reached out, took the SD card, and dropped it back into his own jacket pocket.
Booth smiled wryly and darted a quick glance over to where Bass was watching them with a perplexed frown. "So, we've got a little breathing space before our bosses find out they've only got a copy and they decide to hand us our own asses on a platter…." Booth hesitated, thinking. "Good."
The last word came out on a groan as Booth levered himself up off of the bed, one-handedly trying to pull his jeans up over the wildly-colored boxers he was wearing. His awkward motion pulled Hodgins's gaze down in an automatic response, and he swiftly looked back up with a poorly stifled snigger of repressed amusement, one of Bass's earlier comments suddenly flashing back through his mind.
Booth paused to glower repressively into Hodgins's smirking face. His brows drew down into a scowl even as two hectic spots of color appeared high on his cheekbones.
"Gift…" He struggled to grasp the waistband of the jeans with his casted right hand as well as with his left in an effort to hide the incriminating evidence as quickly as possible. He sucked in a pained breath as his motions aggravated his injuries, and hissed it out in with a grumbled attempt at an explanation, "From Parker…"
"Ahh…right…um…" Jack turned away, choking on a laugh as he tried to focus his mind anywhere but on the bright yellow face of the cartoon character that was grinning maniacally from the front of Booth's underwear. Bass had been correct, SpongeBob on the front of a pair of boxers was just so terribly wrong.
A low growl of annoyance rewarded his effort as Booth finally managed to pull the jeans up, button them, and zip the fly. He sank back onto the bed with a sound that brought Jack's attention fully back to him, all amusement vanishing.
"Hey…" Hodgins eyed Booth's face, which had paled under the bruising, with concern. "Maybe you should…"
"Don't." Even with his eyes closed against the dizziness that was threatening, Booth managed to sound menacing.
Hodgins flinched, nodded and exchanged a quick glance with Bass. He noticed that the younger man was eyeing Booth with the same concern Jack was feeling. They exchanged a long glance, both knowing that nothing they could say would deter their friend.
Hodgins spoke again, his voice quiet, "Okay."
Booth opened his eyes and met his gaze, reading the respect, acceptance, and understanding in the other man's direct stare. He reached for the pair of socks on the bed, biting back a moan at the thought of having to bend over to put them on his feet.
He froze suddenly, staring past Hodgins, his eyes going wide. Hodgins frowned and turned, peripherally aware of Bass doing the same.
"Uh oh…" Hodgins summed up the feeling in the room with admirable brevity.
Brenda eyed the three men who were staring at her, looking for all the world like three unruly schoolboys caught in some act of unauthorized mischief. She bit back a smile, worry and amusement warring within her as she stepped forward.
None of them seemed able to make a sound, though they darted quick glances at each other as if to try to spur themselves into coming up with some story to placate her. Shaking her head as if already hearing their arguments, she stalked forward, closing the distance swiftly.
As she reached the young man who had been hiding behind the nurses' desk, she slapped one of the hospital's carry bags up against his chest with slightly more force than necessary. He rocked back a bit, and she paused only just long enough for him to reach up and grasp the bag before she continued forward.
"Now, don't you boys even try to BS me." Her words had Hodgins snapping his mouth suddenly shut, cutting off the words he had been about to utter. "I've been here long enough to recognize a jailbreak when I see one." She let stern amusement color her voice as the blue-eyed imp gaped at her.
She was aware of him turning to follow her progress as she neared the bed and the FBI agent who was watching her with equal amounts of wide-eyed concern, defiance, and determination. A swift glance told her all she needed to know. There was no way that this young man was going to let her dissuade him from following the course his heart had already laid out for him.
She nodded to herself, sparing a brief thought for the young woman she had met only briefly. She fervently hoped the young lady was aware of what a treasure she had in this man.
Tossing a quick glance at the two men who were staring at her with twin sets of blue eyes, she let them know with her eyes that her words were for them as well as for her patient as she reached with brusque purpose for the socks that the FBI agent was holding. "I know nothing I say's gonna stop y'all…" She tugged lightly and the socks left his grip and came to hers. "So…"
Seeley, she remembered his name from his file, the uniqueness of it making it easy to recollect and easy for her to use to firmly pin him in place, "Agent Seeley Booth, you listen to me..." She rolled up one sock, noting with amusement as she did so that it was just a normal plain white athletic sock this time. "That bag's got extra dressings in it…and antibiotics…." Her next words were nothing less than a direct order. "You're to take one pill twice a day. Take them." Her no-nonsense tone was firm.
She glanced up to see the man staring at her, his mouth slightly open as if he had been about to say something before she started speaking. She bulldozed right over the top of whatever he had been about to utter as she reached down, grabbed the jeans over his calf and unceremoniously lifted his leg so she could reach his foot.
With a deftness born of long practice, she encased the long foot with the sock and tapped the other leg. Smiling inwardly as he unconsciously responded to her silent air of command and meekly lifted his other foot, she continued, "It's also got pain pills." She finished putting the other sock on the other foot, reached for the tennis shoes resting on the bed, and glowered up into the agent's shell-shocked face.
Her eyes narrowed warningly. "Use them." Her tone brooked no nonsense and her eyes demanded an answer from him. As she slipped one sneaker over his left foot, she was rewarded with a faint nod in response. She smiled, noting the elusive glimmer of a smile beginning to twinkle in the dark brown eyes that were focused on her.
She slipped the other sneaker onto his other foot. "Rest when you can. Doc Simmons wasn't plannin' on lettin' you go for another few days." She glared sternly into the brown eyes, noting the quick flash of defiance that crossed Booth's face at her words. "Now, I know you got reasons for what you're doin', and I ain't goin' to say that you're wrong…but use some common sense, boy…"
Defiance gave way to amused chagrin as she watched. She let herself give a 'humph' of approbation at his response and continued her instructions, "Make sure you drink plenty…you lost a lot of blood. And, if you get dizzy or headachy, for God's sake, have enough brains to lay down for a bit."
She let his leg down gently, knowing how sore he probably was, and stared firmly into the brown gaze that was watching her closely. Planting her hands on her hips, she waited for a response, demanding one with her eyes.
Booth peered from under lowered brows, vaguely remembering the virago in front of him from his brief interlude in the emergency room. Despite his worry about his partner, he felt a rising amusement. He smiled faintly and found himself answering with uncharacteristic meekness and respect, "Yes, ma'am."
Brenda felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth as the milk chocolate gaze of the man in front of her tweaked a soft spot she hadn't realized was in her. She found herself patting the jeans-clad knee in front of her as she responded gruffly, "Good. You just take care of yourself, young man, and don't do anything too stupid."
She turned away and pinned the blue-eyed imp with a baleful stare. "And you…" She watched with carefully hidden amusement as the man flinched under her direct gaze before she turned her stare onto the other man in the room, including him in her next words. "I am holding you two responsible. And I don't think I have to tell you how just how badly I don't want to have to help patch him up again."
The taller of the two nodded several times in quick succession, her threat striking home. The other, blue-eyed imp that he was, flashed her a grin that reminded her of why she was glad her own boys were all grown up and on their own.
Hodgins, his always-active sense of the absurd tickled by the way the nurse had handled Booth, couldn't help but grin at her as he nodded, "You got it."
Brenda, with another warning glower, stalked past him. As she reached the door to the room, she turned back around briefly. Eyeing the three as Booth eased himself to stand next to the bed, she dropped her gruff mask and spoke softly. "Good luck to you. Be careful…" Her eyes met Booth's. "And I hope you bring your young lady back safe."
She didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she slipped out of the door and pulled it closed behind her, leaving the three men to stare at its blank surface for a long moment.
Bass broke the silence by zipping Booth's duffle bag shut. The sound was loud in the silence and it jolted both Booth and Hodgins into motion.
"C'mon." Booth's voice was determined and slightly gruff as he started across the room, his cast-encased right arm pressing against his stomach to lessen the pain of his motions.
"My car's in the lot out front," Jack informed the room at large as he shadowed Booth on the way to the door.
He darted ahead, reaching out to open the door for Booth and ignoring the slightly annoyed look he earned for his overly solicitous behavior. As he turned, Hodgins saw Bass pick up both his and Booth's duffle bags, carrying them easily as he followed Booth and Hodgins out of the hospital room.