WHEN FLU BUGS BITE by: Arianna Malone

Disclaimer: I have only borrowed the characters Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth. I do not own either of them. All I did was ask if the three of us could hang out for a while. I'll see to it that they make it home safely to their real owners – Josephson Entertainment and Far Field Productions in association with Twentieth Century Fox Television.

A/N This story is fluff, nothing but fluff. I am living by my credo "Plot? I don't need no stinkin' plot." If you are hoping for a case story, you have come to the wrong place. If you want realism, well…you'll probably be disappointed as well.

Chapter 4: The G-Man Makes a Plan

Seeley Booth watched as Bones woke up. He had already pulled his hand away from her shoulder, from her burning cheek. He saw that her eyes were open, but they were definitely glassy. She sat there, and he thought about how eerie it was to see the lack of comprehension in her eyes.

"Hey, Brennan," he asked hesitantly, "you still with me?" That seemed to get the gears turning, however slowly. She looked up at him, the thoughts slowly falling into place behind her eyes.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry." She said. "Let me get my things." Her voice sounded rough and Booth was willing to bet that talking hurt like hell. Making no comment, though, Booth began to pull out her bags from the overhead compartment. While he was reaching up for one of the bags, she asked.

"Did you get any sleep?"

He stiffened, her question reminding him of his suspicions that she was only pretending to sleep, that she was actually sulking. He shook that thought off and answered. "Nah, I wasn't that tired." He felt the silence, and was uncomfortable, so he added in an off-handed kind of way "I was thinking about the case."

Perhaps it was a test, certainly an unnecessary one. He already knew that she was…not quite herself. He escorted Temperance from the plane. She made some half-hearted grabs for her two bags, and then gave up much too soon. But she didn't seem to think anything of his comment:

'I was thinking about the case.'

It should have been like a red flag to a bull. She, normally, would have dug her claws into that admission, and hung on for dear life, until he had shared what it was about the case that he'd been thinking.

He didn't want her to be sick. What the hell were you supposed to do when someone was sick?

Booth was preoccupied with that question, when he heard a harsh cough from behind. Looking around, he watched as Bones slowed her steps, concentrated on the coughing fit that she was having, and then stopped to lean against the wall while she caught her breath.

Booth was by her side in a few short steps. She was listing a little to the left, and he was afraid that she would topple over. He found his hands on her shoulders, trying to steady her, before a conscious thought had invaded his mind. Then, she was looking up at him, and the misery on her face was heart wrenching. Or perhaps, it wasn't misery. Perhaps it was shame. Brennan looked ashamed that her body was betraying her in this way.

"I'm sorry," she admitted.

"S'okay," he replied.

She seemed embarrassed for needing his help, so he slowly let her shoulders go and bent to pick up the bags once again. They walked slowly towards their departure gate; Booth making sure that his strides had been shortened and slowed to match the pace that was comfortable for her.

Bones sank down in the first empty set of chairs they found and just sat. Had she ever been so still before? Even when sitting, Booth remembered her fidgeting, or perhaps what he remembered was her gaze constantly moving, reading the people around her, looking for the stories of their lives in their behavior. Shaking his head to throw off those thoughts, Booth pulled himself together. Obviously, he was going to have to take charge.

Making sure to keep the doubt or the pity from his voice, Booth asked "Can you watch the bags?" She nodded, rather apathetically, and settled a bit more deeply into the chair. Booth sighed softly and then walked away from Bones.

He, now, was a man on a mission. The question still was "what do you do for a sick person?" The easiest answer was "go shopping." It was simple to locate one of the over-priced "convenience" shops. Booth began to make a mental checklist.

Something for her fever…something for her fever…aha! Aspirin! That was a fever reducer. Something for her cough – easy one – cough drops, of course. Now, what else did sick people get? Orange juice, maybe? What about tea? Nah, it should be one or the other. Definitely orange juice.

As Seeley approached the register with his selections, he noticed a selection of travel-sized items, including small packs of tissues. He didn't remember hearing her sniffling, but maybe that would come later. At the very least, the tissues would never go bad. After he paid and was making his way back to Bones, he found he was feeling very proud of himself.

"Just call me Florence Nightingale." He murmured softly.

Brennan was still sitting with a glazed-over look in her eyes when Booth settled himself beside her. He saw her glance briefly at the bag in his hand, but imperceptibly shrugged. If she didn't snap out of it soon, he was going to drag her to the ER. This wasn't Brennan sitting next to him.

When he offered her two aspirin, she looked at the white pills in his hand as though they were foreign objects. He stifled another sigh as he reached for her hand and dropped the tablets in her palm. That still didn't make the medication register in her mind.

"It's aspirin," Booth told her with as much gentleness as he could muster. Surprisingly, being gentle with this Temperance Brennan was easy. "It'll help bring your fever down." As he studied her face, the lines around her eyes suddenly jumped out at him. Taking a wild guess, he said, "It might help with the headache as well."

Bones nodded, and popped the pills in her mouth. Booth suddenly scrambled for the juice he'd brought along for her. "Sorry! I've got some juice for you to wash that down with." She took it with another nod, and took a long drink. She seemed so far away, and Booth was getting that lost feeling again. Mounting a defense against that helplessness, he began to rattle off the other items he had thought to buy.

Bones listened to the list, nodding as he explained his reasoning for the cough drops, offered her a view of the tiny pack of tissues, and mentioned why he had gotten her only orange juice. She turned away then and seemed to be studying her orange juice. It wasn't until she grabbed the lid from him and screwed it back on the bottle with shaking hands that he realized that something was up.

Looking at her, Booth realized that a tear was making its slow way down her cheek. A tear? He watched, frozen and little bit helpless, as Bones drew her knees into her chest and hid her face behind the fall of her hair. She was sniffling, and he was positive that she hadn't been before. It didn't sound like she was crying, at least, not sobbing. She was holding herself so still, though, and he knew…he just knew.

Holy shit, he'd made Temperance Brennan cry.

If Seeley Booth had been born a woman, he definitely would have been a hand-wringing type of woman. What was he supposed to do now! All he could think of were a litany of curse words that he'd learned – and often used – during his stint in the military. Not helpful.

Finally, Booth reached out a tentative hand and laid it on her shoulder. Receiving no reaction – either positive or negative – Booth slowly began to rub small circles on Tempe's back. Still no response from the bundle of misery to his left, so Booth leaned closer, resting his chin on top of her bent head, and began to croon, much as he would have for his son:

"Shhhh, it's okay. It's okay. I know. I know. Rough day, I know." Meaningless phrases that would have gotten him a punch in the nose if he'd tried this on any other day. Even as he continued to rub her shoulder, her back, he could feel the tense muscles relaxing, but she still stayed curled up.

Why? What now? Why didn't women come with instruction manuals for the love of god?

That thought distracted him slightly, and suddenly, Booth had the image of the reactions of his fellow agents should he try to explain what happened in the airport:

Disbelief would color their voices.

"Wait! Are you saying that you made Dr. Temperance Brennan cry?"

"Really? The Temperance I'll-kick-your-ass-so-hard-it'll-come-out-your-nose Brennan? pfft Tell me another one, Booth."

"Nah, I don't believe it."

Just as suddenly, Seeley Booth was smothering a chuckle. It wasn't funny. It truly wasn't…and yet…it was.

"Hey," he said to Brennan. "Hold on to this for a second." He offered her the pack of tissue, and then began to rifle through her backpack.

He heard her opening the pack, then blowing her nose, but he resolutely continued to search through her bag. Finally, she croaked at him "What are you doing." She paused, and then added "that's my bag."

"You still have that digital camera, right?" He asked.

"Yeah, why?" She asked back.

"Where is it?"

"Why?"

"Well, I was just thinking…the guys at the office are never going to believe that I made you cry. I'm going to need actual evidence." Booth looked up from his search, and for the first time that day, he had the devilish twinkle back in his eye.

Tempe stared at him as though he were insane. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. As Booth began to chuckle at her, he sat up, giving up the search.

Finally, Bones found her tongue. "You. Wouldn't. Dare."

"Are you kidding?" Booth asked, his voice full of laughter. "I'll be the hero of the bureau for at least…" he considered "…an hour. Maybe two. I'll be a legend."

Temperance leaned towards Booth, and held his eyes steadily with her own. "I will kick your ass so hard it'll come out your nose." She threatened. As he started to laugh once again, she cocked her head in confusion. He then reached out and brushed her cheek gently with one knuckle.

"That's my Bones." He reached down and picked up the bottle of juice. Offering it to her, he said "Drink! You probably haven't eaten all day. I'll bet your blood sugar is low. This will make you feel better."

Temperance settled back in her seat and obeyed. Surprisingly, she did feel better…just a bit. Her headache was fading into the background, and her throat didn't ache as fiercely.

"Hey, Booth."

"Yeah, Bones."

"Thanks."

"My pleasure."

TBC…?

A/N: This is where the story should end…allowing you, the reader, to assume that Booth gets Bones safely home. However, the fiendish Ataea has convinced me that there must be more, MORE B/B hurt/comfort. I have one additional chapter that I added to this story, but I will point out that this is the most natural stopping point. Chapter 5 is gilding the lily…just so you know.