AN: Hooray, I had time to write after all. But I can only give you the beginning; the rest needs more attention. So, minor cliffhanger ahead, before the serious stuff gets started. But I think you'll like where this is headed. Hint: B&B are already in a bedroom together. They can't just talk the whole time, can they?

Part 35

Booth let Angela persuade him that she should be the one to drive back.

"No offense," she'd said, "but you don't look like you're up to it."

And, after going through shootings and hospitals, a decontamination shower and Bones yelling at him, he didn't feel up to it, either.

But that didn't stop Angela from being her incorrigible self. She glanced at him from the driver's side of his truck as they headed toward Hodgins' place. "You look really good in scrubs, you know." At the clinic they'd given him those blue pants and shirt in exchange for his clothes. "You could play a doctor on some soap opera. A hot doctor."

He smiled weakly, appreciating the attempt to cheer him up.

"So, how does that even work?" she went on. "Do they have strict procedures for the shower thing? I mean, do you have people going in there with you, to hose you down and give you a good scrubbing?" Her eyes twinkled, and he shook his head at her. "I'm serious! I want to know."

"Just drive me back, okay, Angela?" He would have come up with some creative nickname, to poke fun at her. But he didn't have the energy.

-.-.-.-.

When they walked into Hodgins' mansion, Booth half expected another dramatic scene, like when Brennan threw herself into his arms at the hospital. To be honest, he could have used something like that. He felt tired and hungry and sick at heart.

But Bones was nowhere to be seen.

"I think she's sleeping," Hodgins said, pointing down the hall. "She must've walked four miles around the grounds. Kinda fast, too. And if she's still healing… I was a little worried, but she didn't want Advil or anything."

"She's done that distance before," Booth said. "It tired her out more than she wanted to admit."

Angela offered him food and drinks, but he needed to see Bones first. "Dinner can be ready whenever you are," Angela said. "Take your time."

Booth left his shoes, badge and gun in the entryway, and walked barefoot down the hall.

The guest room door stood open a crack, and he pushed it wider to see Brennan curled on the bed, facing away from him. He leaned there against the wall for a minute, looking. At the curve of her hip and her thick tousled hair. At the emerald green shirt that he'd suggested she wear—was that only this morning? It seemed like a long time ago.

Now she stirred and rolled over.

"Hey. Did I wake you up?"

She shook her head, sounding drowsy. "S'only half asleep." Brushing hair from her eyes, she sat up. She winced when she did it, but didn't seem to notice, like she was accustomed to that lingering pain.

Then she took a better look at his face, and held out her arms.

He shut the door behind him and came to the bed, sinking to his knees. His arms went around her waist, and he rested his head on her chest. She'd moved her legs wide to make room for him, and he felt her thighs on either side of his ribs. Now she was touching his hair, still a little damp from the shower, and running her hands over his neck and shoulders. It felt wonderful, but also systematic, like she was checking that he was undamaged.

After a while she said, "You smell strange." With his face against her chest, he felt her voice reverberate.

"Must be the kind of soap they had. Not bad, I hope?"

"No. Just different."

He took a deep, slow breath, letting her arms, and the smell of her skin, surround him. Then he let go, and got up to sit next to her on the bed.

He hadn't really looked around the room yet. It had soothing green walls, and a navy blue comforter on the bed. A bookcase on one wall and windows on two others, overlooking the grassy grounds.

There was a large photo over the bed, of vivid blue-green globules covered in soft spines. Like magnified pollen spores, or something more disgusting. It reminded him of the gift Hodgins had given Angela, the year they were locked in the lab with that Christmas lung fungus. (For all he knew, it could have been the same picture). Bones noticed him looking at it.

"I bet you know exactly what that is," he said, "don't you?"

"Not exactly. But I have an idea. Do you want me to tell you?"

"Yeah."

She reeled off several possibilities, with the scientific names of obscure things he'd never heard of. All he could think was how that green shirt made her eyes look like clear water. She smiled a little, probably realizing that the terms meant nothing to him.

He admitted, "I just like to hear you say all those big words."

If he'd expected her to laugh, he was disappointed. Looking somber, she took his hand in hers.

"Well…" He sighed, thinking back on the day's events. "Where do I start?"

-.-.-.-.

AN: Thanks to doctorsuez for the brainstorming that I continue to draw from (and for Booth in scrubs!).