The characters don't belong to me, I'm just playing with them for a while, and making no money from any of this. Thanks to Fox and Kathy Reichs for bringing us Bones and Booth, long may they continue to do so.

Thanks again to my beta, MintExpresso - why not check out her stories as well?

Tuesday 11.32pm

Brennan instinctively pushed the intruder away, before she had time to recognise the voice that spoke to her, or to register that the first word that he said was "Bones". By now they were both inside the door, and Brennan groped for the light switch. As the door swung shut behind them and the hallway flooded with light, she was shocked to see who her attacker was, kneeling in the middle of the floor doubled over in pain.

It was Booth. Unshaven, looking a mess, wearing a hideous Hawaiian shirt with ripped jeans, appearing as though he had been wearing the same clothes for a week – which, on consideration, was very possibly true – but undoubtedly Booth.

He grinned ruefully up at her. "I should have known better than to startle you like that," he admitted weakly. "It's just - no-one must know I'm here."

Brennan wanted to hug him tight, to tell him how much she had missed him, how scared she had been that he was dead.

Instead she yelled at him. "Where the hell have you been? Do you know how much trouble you've caused? I thought you were dead! We thought we were working on your body!"

"Hey, steady on," Booth protested. "I'm sorry, okay? It was too dangerous. I had to lie low for a while."

Brennan brought her case inside, checked the door was shut behind them, then knelt down by Booth, registering that he was in pain far above what she had delivered to him. "Nice shirt," she commented dryly.

Booth grimaced. "I took it off a washing line. The colours called to me."

"Let me see." She had already taken in the strips of cloth wrapped round his wrists, but now she realised that what she had taken to be a particularly gaudy part of the design all down his left side was actually dried blood. She gently pulled up the edge of the shirt, to reveal a makeshift bandage soaked in blood. He pushed her hands away and shakily stood up, leaning on the wall for support.

"What happened to you? Where have you been?" This time her voice carried real concern with it, rather than the relief turned to anger of her earlier outburst. He shook his head, more from inability to speak than any reluctance to answer her questions.

She helped him to the couch, where he sank down with obvious relief. He leaned his head back, his face pale. She fetched the first aid kit from the kitchen, then stood in the doorway for a moment watching him. With him sitting there on her couch, the last couple of days felt like a dream. Of course he was okay. How could she ever have doubted that? But he was injured, and obviously in some sort of trouble, or he wouldn't be here.

Brennan decided then and there that explanations could wait. Let them deal with real life tomorrow. Tonight she would worry only about Booth.

Booth was nearly asleep on the couch. He hardly moved as Bones perched next to him, pulled his shirt up again and carefully removed the bandage.

"This looks pretty nasty," she commented.

Booth shook his head weakly. "Nah, it's only a scratch."

"It looks more than that!" Bones examined the wound carefully.

Booth straightened himself on the couch. "I've had a lot worse, believe me. This is nothing." He tried to hide the pain he was in. Bones' elbow hadn't quite caught the wound, but it had come close, and with the relief of finally finding himself somewhere safe, however temporary, he was finding it hard to keep himself together properly. He had known he was asking for trouble when he jumped Bones at the door, but he could not risk having her call out in surprise and alerting the neighbours to his presence. Now his side was feeling the after-effects of the moment.

"Bullet wound?"

He nodded, but did not elaborate.

"Well, it looks like you've been lucky. The bullet grazed along your ribs, here, but didn't damage the bone, as far as I can tell." She looked up at him. "Incredibly lucky. It's healing fairly well, but you'll have a scar."

She unwound the bandages from his wrists, to reveal severe chafing marks and heavy bruising. "These look painful, but they're healing up."

She gently peeled the shirt off his shoulder, to reveal several deep cuts that were half healed.

Booth groaned and pulled away. "Please..."

"These need cleaning up. Let me help you. Can you make it to the bath?"

Booth allowed Bones to run a bath for him, but refused to let her in the bathroom while he bathed. He gingerly washed his wounds and cleaned himself up as best he could. Having no razor, he rubbed his hand ruefully over his chin and decided he would have to live with the stubble for the time being.

He raised his eyebrows when Bones sneaked her hand round the door with a pile of men's clothes, but when he appeared in front of her dressed in the clean jeans she said nothing and he decided not to press the point. She gently dressed his wounds and helped him slip the shirt on over his injured shoulder. He fumbled with the buttons, and she took over and finished the job for him.

"You hungry?"

Booth shook his head. "I guess I must be, but right now I'm too tired to eat. I just need to sleep. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Bones helped him to the couch, and he was vaguely aware of her helping him swing his legs up and lie down. As she carefully placed a blanket over him he felt his eyes drift shut, and presently he fell asleep.

See, I've put you all out of your misery ;-)

I should be updating this story more or less daily, site permitting. Please review!