Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. On the Tamora Pierce fanfic pages we used to do shout outs at the top of each chapter to reviewers. I miss that here. Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read and review this fic so far. It's very motivational and inspiring, so thanks again, and I hope you have happy weekend dreams staring your favourite characters/actors/people.

Fluff warning. Be prepared.


Chapter 6 – Water on the Flame

The mercury was now almost boiling itself, and the whole of the state seemed to have come to a stand still, the air just too hot to even consider moving. Booth had dropped Bones off at the lab and had headed home to change into something cooler. He had no intentions of visiting anyone else today, so the suit would be discarded in to the ever growing pile of dry cleaning that he looked at with some distress. Tessa had used to take care of his dry cleaning. He realised that that was perhaps the only thing he missed about her, quite a sad fact after all the time they spent together.

The teacher had confirmed what they needed to know, with her nervous manner and contradiction of the details given by her former boss, rather than direct words. She had stammered her way through a carefully scripted version of what had actually happened the day of Thomas' disappearance and had actually cried when they revealed that his body had been found. Clearly she had enjoyed her job and adored the children she had taught while she had been at the school, and had merely had the unfortunacy to work for someone like Alexandra Dunn. Booth had left his contact details with the teacher, fully expecting her to call and unload the particulars about the day in question, once her guilt had fully caught up with her.

He pulled on light, casualtrousers and a thin T-shirt after taking a cold shower, erasing the clammy feeling from his skin. The weather was a little on the hot side for him; nothing he hadn't experienced before, but still, he was uncomfortable. The humidity was oppressive, and he felt an atmosphere build about the case, feeling that they were short of time, but wasn't quite sure why. The sense made him frustrated, and he kept running through all the pieces in his head, trying to click them together in a myriad of ways, but nothing would fit.

Booth headed back to the lab in his car, knowing that Bones would have called the rest of the squints in to recap over evidence, pouring over every inch of what they had, trying to find something that could pin point where the body had been kept before it had been abandoned outside. As he thought of the anthropologist his mood settled, and the heat no longer seemed so abrasive. He remembered the morning, having coffee in her kitchen and he felt the impression of her key that was back in his pocket brand him. He knew it meant nothing; she knew it was a stupid idea to have a key kept in her shed, particularly after what had happened previously, and he was convenient.

He recalled the feeling of having her in his arms, holding her against his chest, feeling her tense body against his and longed to have that sensation again, although under better circumstances that her being kidnapped. A thought occurred to him – there was a formal function at the end of the week that he was supposed to have attended with Tessa, although she would obviously not be going. He debated asking Bones, and wondered what the odds were of her accepting. He knew she hated things like dances, he had heard her protest enough in the past about the inconvenience of having to attend them. He wondered if she would go with him if he asked her quite formally, and then he realised he was considering asking Bones on a date and nearly didn't break in time, just stopping short of ploughing into the tailgate of the car in front and now being on the receiving end of several rude signs being made by the car's driver. He mouthed a few choice words back before taking a turn avoiding the rest of the traffic. Clearly he was too distracted to drive in traffic.

When he got to the lab he saw her, bent over papers on her desk, an expression of concentration etched on her face. She wasn't aware of him being there, too engrossed in what she was doing to notice that someone had entered her space.

For a minute he watched her, a smile hinting as she worked something out, fingers flicking through papers, eyes scanning information. Auburn hair fell into her face; she moved it with slim fingers, tidying it behind her ear. He realised he could watch her forever, never getting tired of her movements and mannerisms. Finally she looked up, eyes fixing upon him.

"Booth," she said in greeting. "You changed."

"It's too hot for suits," he responded, edging closer to her. He felt a sense of trepidation as he neared, the anticipation of being in her close proximity almost too much. He felt an atmosphere between them, one that was causing silence to remain. Her eyes flicked up at him every few seconds, checking where he was, and then pretending to ignore him. He got to her desk, standing beside her, looking at the sprawl of papers that were seemingly holding her attention.

They didn't touch, her arm didn't even brush up against his, but he felt electrified by her presence. He heard the rustling of the pages as she hurried through them, and the gentle blow of the air condition that was doing nothing to cool his fervour. He knew he couldn't take his eyes off her, his mind wondering what it would be like to touch her hair, to caress her hands lightly with his fingertips, to pull her to him and find her lips on his. She stopped what she was doing and looked up, and his gaze froze.

As she turned her bodyto him, he realised how close they actually were, and as she focused on him, no words interrupting their eye contact, he felt the thickening of the tense atmosphere and knew that she was not unaware of the tension between them. She was feeling it too. She stayed put, not moving; there was no attempt to break the look or move away, even if he was too far into her personal space. He found himself wetting his lips, edging even closer to her. She mirrored his actions and he noticed that she was looking at his mouth.

"Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth," Zack entered, unaware of the chemistry that was currently flowing between his boss and her partner. The link had been broken and both Booth and Bones backed away. Booth found himself mentally cursing Zack and wishing for away to turn back time and have him delayed somewhere before he had gotten to them.

"I think I've worked out exactly what the bones were soaked in before the body was left outside," he now had Bones' full attention. Booth felt mildly jealous, as if he wished that he had been the one to work it out. He shook his head slightly in disbelief at himself. He was wishing he were a squint.

"I though we couldn't get it narrowed down any further than bleach?" She said, frowning.

"I ran some tests, comparing every day household bleaches, none matched. Anyway, I've matched it to an industrial bleach, commonly used by cleaning franchises. It's meant to be diluted, so if the body was soaked in it when it was concentrate then it would have pretty much eaten away at the skin. I'm running some tests now to see how quickly it could have acted," Zack explained.

"Well done, Zack," Bones praised. "It could give us a more precise time of death."

"I'll go back to doing it," he said, almost nervously now his moment in the spotlight had ended. "I obviously interrupted a moment there." His eyes skipped between the two of them. Booth was surprised to neither hear Bones' denying it nor looking confused. Zack scuttled.

"That's where we need to start," Booth said quietly, wondering if they would be able to conjure back the magic that had been between them, wondering if Bones would let it happen again.

"With the time of death?" She asked, stepping closer to him again.

He felt a little tongue tied with her nearness. "No, with where the body was kept. Where it was soaked in bleach," he corrected.

"That could be almost anywhere, Booth, we don't have a starting point," she reasoned.

He nodded. "We do," he began, her body heat combining with his. "We disregard the idea that he was picked up in a car and work on the theory that he went back into the school. Elizabeth Merrell said that he was a good kid. If he hadn't have seen his mother then he would have gone straight back into the building. We start from there."

"Now?" She asked.

Booth shook his head. "I don't think now's a good idea. We should go when the rest of the kids are there, and the staff. I've tried calling his best friend's parents, to see them about asking a few questions and speaking with their son, but there's no answer. If we're at the school tomorrow morning then we'll get the full spectrum of people – cleaners, teachers, parents on the school run and office staff."

She nodded in agreement. "What do we do till then?"

"I think we should go over exactly what we know, and see if we can get any more of these jigsaw pieces to fit," he answered, feeling a little frustrated. Ideally he would have like to have gone immediately to the school, but Alexandra Dunn had already called Cullen and made a complaint about him, and Cullen had warned him to take it easy with the school. Mrs. Dunn's husband was a rather powerful lawyer, and Cullen had advised caution where she was concerned, and suggested getting a warrant before any attempt as made to look around the school. Booth knew that should they uncover any evidence to prove that due care and attention had been taken of the boy, then Mrs. Dunn's career would be over, with the possibility of a lawsuit in the process. "I called in a favour from a judge and requested a warrant to search the premises," he told Bones. "We'll get it tomorrow."

"I think we should go and look at the area where the body was found, see if there's anything there to help us," she responded.

"The heavy rain will have washed any evidence away," Booth said, frowning.

"It may also have uncovered things left behind," she shrugged.

"We can have a look at the possible paths he took to get to the site as well. Obviously they weren't looked at on Friday," he nodded.

"I'll just let Zack know we're going," she said, her attention waning from him and walking off to find her young protégée.

He stared after her. This case was a stinker. But there were worse people to be working it with.

--------------------------------

They parked in the same place as they had done on Friday night; Brennan just about recognised it in different weather and bright light. She had changed clothes, and was now wearing cotton fatigues and a sleeveless top, having made Booth stop at her place before they travelled to the river. The rains had ceased in a dramatic fashion, and now the sun was at its hottest, blazing over them as they walked across the still slightly damp fields that separated them from the river, no trees to provide shade.

She looked at Booth, liking what she saw. He was wearing casual clothes now, instead of his trademark suit and she found the look rather appealing. They walked casually, it was too hot to try to be speedy, and the heat had a rather soporific effect, slowing everything down, including Brennan.

The day seemed almost stagnant; after the whirlwind of the morning the pace had dawdled down to a crawl, the sun stilling whatever it shone on. They walked side by side, arms almost touching, and Brennan didn't feel inclined to move. The mood that would have been created by the brilliant sunshine was tainted by the reason they were here like a shadow crossing their path. She wondered what it would be like to be here with Booth without having a case to work on, whether they would be here at all. She felt his presence without having to touch him, just as she had done in the lab before Zack had arrived.

She glanced up at him and saw him looking at her. He gave her a small smile and quickly looked away, and she resisted the temptation to move her hand closer to his, although for some reason that seemed the most natural thing in the world right now.

They arrived at the spot where Booth had found the body, the dislodged soil from where the body had been and the officers had stood still evident. They moved to it, Brennan noticing the still heavy flow of the river below, and feeling a little grudging respect for Booth for making sure that the body had not met a watery end. It had been precariously close to the edge, and given the force of the rain on the night it had been discovered it could quite easily have fallen into the river. He had secured it well, minimising the amount of trace left on it from him, although the rain had gotten rid of everything that had been there. The blanket was currently being analysed by the FBI's forensics unit, but she was curious to have alook herself and had urged Booth to have it brought to the lab. Clearly the body had been wrapped in it by the murder; any information it could give them about where it had been before would be crucial, given that they currently had so little to go on.

She knelt down by where Thomas' bones had been found and rubbed fingers through the earth. It was good soil, kept moist by the rushing river. She looked up and saw Booth's eyes scanning the banks, then turning back to look at from where they had come. She stood up and stepped over to him, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked the same direction as he did.

"Which direction do you think he came from?" She asked.

He pulled a face, looking as if he was really thinking about the question. "I think he came from across the river," he answered, turning back and viewing the body of water. "The phone call was made two hours before the rain began. I think he called before he dumped the body."

"That would have been a risk. What if he'd been disturbed, and couldn't do it. The rain came suddenly, so there may have been people about," she reasoned.

Booth nodded, leading her further down the river to ward the bend before where it was a popular spot for fishermen.

"It was forecast; and anyone with an ounce of intelligence would have known that rain was on its way. The humidity had been high for days and it had to break at some point," he argued back. "So a lot of people would already be back at home, and the river would have been quiet. I think he took his chances on how quick someone would be here though, and he probably knows the area quite well."

"Why do you think he crossed the river?" She asked, looking back at where they had come from.

"There were no tire tracks around the scene," he answered. "I don't think he would have chanced going across the fields with a blanket covering a body."

"So he went across the river instead," she looked at him, meeting his brown eyes with her blue ones.

"He moved through the woods," he pointed to the dense growth of trees on the other bank. "And then crossed the river – probably around where I did -it would have been even shallower given that it hadn't rained yet - and abandoned the body."

"Then how did he get back?" She inquired.

"Same way; back over the river," Booth came to a stop just past the bend in the water. He looked down at the river. "This was where I crossed." She looked down and imagined the scramble he had had to get back up the bank, particularly when it had been pouring with rain, making everything incredibly slippy.

"I know, I'm a strong guy," he smirked. She hated it when he guessed what she was thinking. She responded with a glare, which made him smirk all the more. "Fancy taking a dip?" She heard him ask.

"What?"

"If we go a little further down the stream it really does get shallow. We need to get across and check out those woods, so the quickest way to do it is to wade," he explained. "Scared of getting your hair wet?"

That did it. She began to hurry, ignoring the heat blaring down and almost jogging to the point here meant. She had been at the river at one or two times before, helping to identify a set of remains that had been discovered a couple of years back that had turned out to be from an eighteenth century male, who had appeared to have died from natural causes.

The bank was only slightly above the water level, and that was barely above her knee. She bent down and dipped her finger in the water, hearing Booth laugh behind her.

"Too cold, Bones?"

With her back to him she scooped up a handful of water and splashed him with it, knowing the cold would contrast almost painfully with the heat of the day. He gasped in shook and began to wade into the water, following her, and splashing her as much as he could. She found herself laughing as he scooped up more water, wetting her hair. Looking around she spotted a clump of dead reeds that had been torn up by the ranging storm and were now flowing down the river. She grabbed hold of them as quickly as she could, hoping Booth just though she was dipping for more water. She kept her back to him, waiting for him to sneak up on her. Sensing his closeness instinctively she turned around, and reaching up, stuffed the reeds down his back. She imagined they would feel horrible; a little slimy and very wet, but the look of surprise on his face was worth any revenge he might take.

"That does it, Bones," he threatened and she began to run through the water, laughter coming from both of them. He was quicker than her and caught her easily. He bent and scooped her up; picking her up in his armslike she weighed no more than Parker. He began to wade to where the depth of the water increased, and she started to struggle, knowing what he had in mind for her. Her arms went round his neck, seeking security and knowing that by gripping him, he would have to plunge into the water too if he dumped her in it.

She protested wildly, threatening all colours of nastiness if he soaked her, but he just chuckled infuriatingly and she found herself laughing along with the promises of seven different types of revenge.

"Whatever form of torture you come up with I'm sure I'll enjoy," he said wickedly, his eyes twinkling at her as he began to sink down into the deeper water. He plunged them both in, the cool water almost refreshing after the burning heat. She found he'd kept hold of her round her waist, and her arms had not yet loosened from around his neck, their bodies pressed close with only wet clothing creating a barrier between them. She felt his heart pounding through the material as her feet landed on the river bed, the water coming up to the top of her arms.

He hadn't let go of her, and now they were both silent, only the sounds of a few children playing in the river a little way away, the whispering of the breeze through the trees and the rippling of the water breaking the peace. She recalled the scene earlier when he had been stood in the lab for several minutes, watching her as she worked, oblivious to the fact that she was aware of his every move. Then the air had become filled with the same tension as now, only to be broken by Zack, who officially had the worst timing ever.

And now Zack wasn't here, and she was caught in his arms not wanting to get out, her eyes looking into his and seeing herself reflected in them. The warmth of his body merged into hers, now oblivious to the cold of the water.

"Bones," she heard him say, his mouth just inches away from hers. "You haven't tried to kill me yet."

"I'm not going to kill you, Booth," she answered, her fingers now slowly sliding into his hair. She felt him shiver at her touch and the scenery around her, the weeping willows and wild flowers, all began to blur and disappear.

"Is this something you read about in that book about how to deal with your co-workers?" He asked, his voice not much more that a murmur.

"I've never been held this close by Hodgins," she said with a smile.

"Good," she heard him say.

Then a wave of panic went through her. She was wrapped in the arms of her working partner who had just split up from his girlfriend. She released her hold on him, and the moment between them was shattered. His arms loosened and their touch broke, and suddenly the water felt too cold and she wanted to get out.

"We should go and have a look round those trees and dry off," she told him, a faint quiver in her voice. Her body had reacted to Booth and she ached for his touch to return, a part of her kicking herself for notallowing what had seemed to be inevitable.

He didn't reply, just followed her to the bank and climbed out after her. She felt disappointed that he had not tried to resume what was happening between them. Turning round to face him she found he wouldn't look her in the eye. Her logical brain began to curse herself – why had she moved away? Why had she panicked? Clearly she found him attractive, and those feelings were reciprocated, he wouldn't have held herso tightly or as close, or at all if he hadn't wanted something more. But where would 'more' lead them? He was arrogant, annoying and knew exactly how to push her buttons, yet she was craving him more than any man she'd been with before. His was her almost opposite; she relied on evidence, her went by his gut feeling; she was useless at reading people, that was how he did his job so well. Yet their principals were the same.

She walked blindly into the trees, the sun warming her and drying the light clothing quickly, even though they were in the shade. She didn't look at Booth, not needing the tumble of thoughts that it would create in her mind.

"Bones!" She heard him call. She stopped walking and headed to where his voice had come from.

He was stood next to a tree, looking down at a scrunched up bit of paper, surprisingly far from sodden due to its proximity to a large, sheltering bush. Her eyes opened wide when she saw what was printed on it.

---------------------------------

Booth was attempting to control the array of emotions swirling round his head. His thoughts seemed to be running in two different directions; some concerned Bones and what had just happened in the water, others were focusing on the case and the piece of evidence he now held in his hand.

He hadn't been surprised that she had pulled away; Bones had far too many barriers up to let people close easily, and although they had been partners and friends for sometime now he knew that any change in their relationship would be confusing for her, as it was for him. He felt disappointed – and immensely frustrated – that they hadn't kissed, although part of him was still elated that she had allowed him so near to her. Holding her in his arms had felt like the most natural, wonderful thing in the world, and he just hoped that wouldn't be the last time, but how did he make sure it wouldn't be? He looked at her quickly, she was staring at the paper in his hand and reading the words that were visible now he had unscrewed it.

"Greenhold Elementary School," she read out, looking at the faded letters. "It's a compliment slip that would be sent out with letters and such."

He nodded, noticing the way that her damp clothes clung to her. The heat from the sun was drying them quickly, there was no feeling of cold even in the shade, but the wet material showed off her shape and he was finding it hard to not pay more attention to her than to what they had found.

"We need to analyse this," he stated the obvious, trying to keep his eyes on the new discovery.

"You think the perp dropped it?" She said, taking hold gently of the slip.

He shrugged. "It has to be a possibility. It seems too much of a coincidence when the school is several miles away from here to find a compliment slip from the same school as Thomas when his body was buried just across the river." He stood up from where he had been crouched down and noticed that she was looking at him in a way to which he had been looking at her, noticing the way his t-shirt stuck to him. Her eyes rose to meet his and he felt the familiar feeling of mutual attraction, and knew that she was recalling the swim they had had. He didn't feel smug, or pleased that he had provoked that feeling in her; instead he was worried, how did he make it happen again?

"It could either be something that the boy had had with him on the day he was taken, or the murderer took it from the school," she said, her eyes hiding her emotions once more.

"I doubt it's from the boy," Booth said, pushing all thoughts of Bones' body to the back of his mind for perusal later, once he got home. "No clothes were found, and I can't see our guy dressing a near skeleton in clothes and then undressing him, so it won't have fallen out of Thomas' pocket."

"You think it's from the killer?" She said, frowning like she did when she was thinking deeply. He adored that look.

"Probably. Unless someone else from Greenhold School has been walking through these woods," he replied.

"We have to keep that in mind," she said, her voice full of impersonal professionalism.

Booth nodded, not really taking in what she had said. "Bones," he found himself saying, not quite knowing what was going to come out of his mouth yet.

"Booth," she mocked as he was taking awhile to get the next part of his sentence out.

"There's an FBI dinner on Saturday, and I was wondering if you'd come with me?" He stepped back and waited for the reply.


And if you want to know what she says, you'll have to review! Anonymous, signed,smileys, long and short, all welcome and all bring a little joy!