A/N: for this combo we have Booth, Brennan, Hodgins, a thunderstorm, and a truck stop.

I didn't really have a time frame in mind, but season 4 seems to fit this scenario.

It was late on a Saturday evening in a rural area of Maryland, about fifty miles from DC. The rain was pouring down in sheets, and Booth was struggling to see down the narrow two lane road ahead of him as he drove.

He glanced at the beautiful passenger next to him. Since they were together on a Saturday night, maybe he could pretend they were on a date. Of course, Brennan wouldn't understand why he'd want to do that, but he didn't really care. It was his imagination, and he could do what he wanted with it. Maybe they could be on their way to a fancy restaurant...or a nice weekend getaway...instead of driving through shitty weather...

He cleared his throat, hoping he sounded 'cool'. "You doin' okay there, Bones?"

"Of course. A thunderstorm is merely a meteorological phenomenon that occurs when a cold front moves through an area. The extreme temperature changes destabilize the air, which results in precipitation." Smiling, Brennan smoothed the front of her jumpsuit. "It's nothing to be concerned about unless there's flash flooding or a tornado."

"Right." Booth rolled his eyes as a lightning strike lit up the night sky ahead of them. "Nothing to worry about, unless you happen to be the one driving." He reached up and tried to wipe some condensation away from the front windshield. "I can't see where we're going, okay? I don't think the defroster is working very well…"

He adjusted the ventilation dial on the dashboard, hoping to improve his visibility. 'So much for it being a romantic evening', he thought in frustration. 'We might as well be transporting the remains in the back to the lab as romantic as this is…'

He didn't want to talk about the weather, or the case, or the problems with the car's defroster. There were more important things to say between himself and Bones...but it probably wasn't going to happen...not right then, anyway. Besides...they weren't exactly alone...

Glancing in the rearview mirror, he grimaced at the fidgety man in the backseat. "Do you need something, Bug Boy? You look kinda uncomfortable..."

Hodgins shrugged nervously. "Well, I was gonna suggest that we pull off the road onto the shoulder to ride out the storm…"

"Nah, we can't...the shoulder's too narrow on this stretch of pavement, and with the low visibility from the rain, we're liable to be hit from behind." Gripping the steering wheel tightly, Booth shook his head. "I don't know why it always has to rain so hard when we do a body recovery out in the sticks, you know? I mean, how many times have we been away from the city and then we get soaked…mud up to our knees when we find the body, right? I hate it..." He paused slightly. "I mean, I'm glad we're working together, Bones, but Jesus…it rains hard every goddamn time..."

"It doesn't happen all the time." Brennan rolled her eyes at Booth's whining. "It's just that the times where it has rained are the ones you remember."

"Really? So name a time where we've gone out to the boondocks to visit a crime scene and it hasn't rained." Seeing his partner hesitate, he nodded in triumph. "Yeah...see? You've got that genius brain and super duper memory and you can't think of one, right? I told you so…" He grimaced suddenly. "Oh no! Son of a bitch! Stupid goddamn motor pool mechanics!"

Leaning forward, Hodgins tried to peer over Booth's shoulder. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"I just had this goddamn truck checked out at the FBI's motor pool this week, and the 'check engine' light has come on again! They told me they'd fixed it! Shit...that's all we need...rain and car trouble!" Suddenly he glanced at Brennan. "Hey, can you look on your phone to see if there's any place to stop around here? Like maybe a gas station or something?"

"Okay…" She studied a map on her phone. "It looks like there's a 24 hour truck stop about five miles from here...where the interstate converges with this county road. Will that work?"

"I think it's gonna hafta work." Rubbing his chin, Booth considered their situation. "I don't want to chance driving all the way back to DC in this damn SUV if I don't know what's wrong with it, especially in this weather." He pointed to her phone. "Can you navigate from that thing?"

"Of course…" She held up the phone so he could see it. "Just stay on this road until you come to the junction. I imagine there will be some signs…"

Booth quickly agreed. "Yeah...probably so. Okay...everybody hold your breath...let's do this."

After what seemed like hours of creeping along the narrow highway, the brightly lit truck stop sign finally loomed out of the rain drenched darkness like a beacon of hope. "There it is.," Booth said. "Now...let's just hope the mechanics haven't all gone home for the evening…"

He drove the SUV past the restaurant and the gas pumps, back to the large bays in the back of the parking lot. With a sense of relief, he pointed at a neon sign and honked the horn before turning to Brennan. "Mechanic on duty 24 hours a day. Maybe we're in luck after all."

"Can I help you?" A man in a greasy blue work shirt stepped up to the SUV.

As he read the name embroidered on the man's shirt, Booth smiled. "Hey, Chester. I'm FBI Special Agent Booth." He flashed his badge before pointing at his passengers. "They're from the Jeffersonian. We've been working a crime scene over in Thurmond, and we were on our way back to DC, but the check engine light just came on…"

"A crime scene in Thurmond? Good Lord…" Chester's eyes widened in amazement. "Never thought anything like that would happen there…it's normally a nice, quiet place, you know?"

"Well, it's a long story...and I'm sure it'll be in the paper tomorrow, okay? Look, the point is that I was wondering if you have time to see what's going on with my SUV…with the engine light and all..."

Chester stuck his hands in his pockets as he eyed the large black car. "Well, I got the time, but that thing ain't a diesel, is it?"

"Well...um, no...it's not…"

"Well, then, I'm sorry to say, I can't help ya. I'm strictly a diesel guy. You'll need to talk to Vernon…"

Sighing softly, Booth clenched his jaw before answering. "Okay, then...is Vernon around?"

"Oh, no...sorry. He's in Hawai'i on his honeymoon...won't be back 'til next week…"

Booth groaned as he clenched his fists around the steering wheel in frustration. "Is there anyone else around here who can look at my car?"

"Hmm...maybe Howard…oh...'cept Howard's gone home for the night, and he won't be back in 'til Monday. It's his turn to preach at church tomorrow, so he'll be gone all day..."

Realizing that Booth was about to explode in rage, Brennan put her hand on his arm. "Booth...why don't we go have dinner here at the restaurant? Maybe we can come up with some other solution over our meal..."

"FINE!" He threw up his hands in annoyance. "Let's go have something to eat!"

Waving at Chester, Booth backed the car around and parked in front of the diner. "I hope they have a decent burger in this joint…," he grumbled as he got out of the car. "...although I'm not sure I feel like eating anything…"

"I'm sure they do…" Brennan gave him an indulgent smile. "...and probably some excellent apple pie…"

Hodgins nodded to the couple as he opened the car door. "I'll be in shortly. I need to make a phone call. Just get me whatever Booth's having..."

"Yeah...okay…" Booth shrugged as he followed Brennan into the restaurant, smiling as he got a whiff of the food that was cooking. "Hmm...I guess maybe I'm hungry after all…"

"Of course you are." As the hostess showed them to a table, Brennan giggled happily. "I'm so excited to be here, Booth! We get to observe a subculture in its natural environment…"

"A sub...what? What are you talkin' about, Bones?"

"The truck drivers! Look!" She pointed to a section of the dining room that was cordoned off. A sign on one of the posts read 'Truckers Only'. "See? They segregate themselves from the rest of the restaurant's patrons so they can bond with each other. They have their own language idioms, their own set of ethics and social mores…their own humor...their own songs...their own behavioral norms..."

"Or they're just tired from long haul driving and don't want to be bothered by everyone else…" Booth rolled his eyes as he dumped some sugar into his coffee. "C'mon, Bones...not everything is related to anthropology stuff…"

She gave him a haughty glare. "The reported behavior of that group meets the classic definition of subculture. I don't know why you have a problem with that. Think about how they use their radios to communicate with each other...how they all understand the unwritten rules of the road...it seems odd to outsiders, but the truckers understand it..."

"Look, Bones...I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I'm aggravated about my stupid SUV, okay? I really do not want to argue about that culture stuff right now…"

"Hey, guys...what'd I miss?" As Hodgins sat down at the table, his grin faded. "Uh oh. Did I just interrupt an argument?"

"I was trying to explain subcultures to Booth, but he's too tired to discuss it." Brennan took a sip from her tea cup. "We weren't really arguing…"

"Subcultures?" Hodgins nodded as he took a drink from his water glass. "Oh, you mean like the truck drivers…"

"Enough, okay?" After thanking the server for his plate, Booth slapped the end of the ketchup bottle a little bit harder than necessary. "Can't we just eat in peace?"

"Um...sure. Whatever you say, Booth." Hodgins made a face at Brennan on the sly, and she acknowledged him with a slight nod.

Clearing his throat quietly, the entomologist continued. "So...um...any idea why Senator Garland's aide would be in Thurmond? Did he have family in the area?"

"Not that we know of." Booth grunted softly as he picked up some french fries. "The guy was from Maine, okay? There's no real reason for him to be out in the middle of nowhere in this part of the world…"

Brennan considered Booth's statement for a moment. "Perhaps Angela can recover his cell phone records and we can determine his movements over the last few days."

"Yeah, maybe." As he ate his dinner, Booth relaxed slightly. "Listen, you guys...I'm sorry I've been such a jerk about the car, okay? I know it's not anyone's fault…except maybe the idiot mechanic who didn't fix it the first time..."

"I think you did the wise thing in choosing not to attempt the drive back to DC, Booth." Brennan smiled as she patted his hand. "You're always thinking of the safety of others, and I appreciate that about you..."

"Really?" Pleased with the compliment, Booth grinned as he started on his piece of pie. "Well, it's just common sense, right? Can't drive the car any distance if it might break down, but I guess that may mean we're stuck here a while…with the submarine truck culture or whatever it is..."

At that moment, Hodgins' phone rang. "Hold that thought...I may have a solution to our little problem." He spoke briskly to the person on the other end. "Twenty minutes? Excellent work, Wilson. We'll see you then." He turned to his friends with a smug grin. "Help will be arriving soon. In the meantime, I suggest we enjoy the rest of our meal. Maybe another piece of pie, Booth? I definitely want some more coffee..."

Booth and Brennan were both curious, but Hodgins refused to divulge his solution to their dilemma. Finally his phone rang again. "Yes? Thank you, Wilson. We'll be out shortly." After ending the call, he drained his coffee cup. "Our ride's here."

Anxious to find out what he meant, Booth quickly paid for their dinner before following Brennan and Hodgins out to the parking lot. "What the…whoa..."

Smiling happily, Hodgins pointed at the gleaming black stretch limousine that was parked in front of the restaurant's door. "Wilson probably ignored the speed limit to get here so quickly, but I'm sure you don't mind, right? I was going to have him bring the helicopter, but I didn't think we could get all of our gear in it…"

"But a big fancy limo? That's kinda extreme, isn't it?" Booth ran his hand over the car's hood. "She's a beauty, though…"

"Well, after the day you've had, I thought maybe you'd like a bit of pampering." Hodgins snickered at Booth's scowl. "But I guess if you don't wanna ride in it, you can stay here, and I'll drive Dr. Brennan back to town…"

Booth sighed softly. "I appreciate it, buddy….I really do, but if I leave the SUV here, I've got no wheels for tomorrow…"

"Oh, that's no problem, Booth." Brennan gently laid her hand on his arm. "If you need to go somewhere tomorrow, I can drive you. In fact, maybe you can just spend the day at my place...and, if you want, you can stay the night in my guest room and we can go have breakfast before I take you to work on Monday…"

"But I don't want to impose on you like that…," Booth stammered at Brennan. He was determined not to take advantage of her hospitality but looking into her blue eyes quickly changed his mind. Who am I kidding?! Of course I want to impose on her like that… "Are you sure it's not a problem?"

"Of course it's not an imposition. I have a car and a spare bedroom. You won't be able to get a new car from the motor pool until Monday afternoon at the earliest, so why not let me help you?" Brennan tilted her head as she watched him think through her idea. "You're not being stubborn for no apparent reason, are you?"

"Nah…" Shaking his head, Booth grinned at her. "Let's drive this baby around and get the stuff out of the SUV, okay? When I get to work on Monday, I'll call the motor pool and they can make arrangements to come get the damn truck. That seems like the least they can do…"

Twenty minutes later Booth, Brennan, and Hodgins were ensconced in the passenger compartment of the limousine, drinking champagne as the car sped along the dark highway towards the Jeffersonian.

"You know what, Hodgins?" Booth laughed as he helped himself to some expensive chocolates. "This was a great idea. Thanks, buddy…"

"No problem. I'm glad I could help. I mean, I don't think any of us relished the idea of hanging out all night in a truck stop, right?"

"Well, Bones did want to observe their culture…," Booth teased.

She laughed softly. "I think I've seen enough for now, but I suppose we'll be going to Thurmond again during our investigation, so perhaps we can stop in on the way home…"

"Perhaps." Booth sighed happily as he ever so casually put his arm around Brennan's shoulders. "If you want..."

Laughing to himself, he sipped his champagne. You know...maybe it's not a bad thing that the truck broke down…

...and I wonder what I'll need to do to put off getting a new SUV for a couple of days? After all...if it means I get to spend time with Bones...maybe I don't need a different car after all...

Thanks for reading. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it. Laura