Moments—Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Yeah, right, I own them. (Any attorneys for the FOX network that are reading this please take note of the sarcasm.)

Author's notes: (peers over a massive cereal box fortress and eyes BonesDBchippie cautiously) Do you have any idea how many boxes of Maple Brown Sugar Mini-Wheats I had to eat to build this? Is that a fruit slushie in your hand? Ewww, why is it green? What the hell kind of fruit did you and Jaed mix together?

(glances over at Howdylynn and grins) Liked the old clichéd "we only have one room left" twist, did you? Yes, it was trite, classic and formulaic but darn it I couldn't resist! And Booth with his clothes soaked and sticking to his body…oh yeah.

(steals another glance at BonesDBchippie before looking at mendenbar) Thanks for the tip on the fruit. Does it also apply to fruit slushies?

(smiles at NakedQuidditchFan) You're not alone in thinking like Brennan! I, too, had that thought but I wanted to end the last chapter on an amusing note. I had the phone thing worked out in my head for this chapter. Don't worry, they stick around at the motel.

(pats elliot02uk on the back) My poor Jean…I managed to depress you with my other story and fill you with hate for Sean in this one. I would offer you a chocolate covered Booth but I'm afraid you might OD. Chin up, my friend. I'll make it all better in both stories.

And to everyone else, thanks for reading and special thanks, as always, for your wonderful reviews.

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"I think it just got worse."

Booth rolled his eyes at her and turned back to the elderly motel owner. "Okay, how much for a room…"

Brennan tapped his shoulder again, a little harder than last time. "Why don't you use his phone to call whoever you were going to call earlier?"

He sighed as he turned to face her again. Did the thought of spending time with him now bother her that much? Had his mistake with Cam completely destroyed his relationship with Bones?

"Fine," he said as he turned back to the man. "Sir, could I use your phone to call for a tow truck? We got a flat tire about a half a mile down the road."

The elderly man chuckled as he placed the phone on top of the counter for Booth to use. "You can try to get someone to help you out son but I can guarantee that no one in their right mind is coming out to tow your car in this downpour. The roads are flooded and the rain is not letting up. As for your tire…well, Ronnie's Tire World is about two miles down the road and he's closed until nine o'clock tomorrow morning."

A smile tugged at Booth's lips as he once again faced Brennan. "Any other suggestions? Or do you have a magic carpet in your bag that we can ride back to DC?"

"What's the sudden fascination with the contents of my bag?"

She stared at him as she mulled over her options. She could call Angela but she didn't really want to risk her friend's safety in this weather. More importantly she didn't want to hear Angela's innuendo laced comments about her being stranded at a motel with Booth.

"You know if you call Angela you'll never hear the end of this," he stated as a huge grin appeared on his face.

Damn him and his uncanny ability to read her mind sometimes. Droplets of water rolled down her face and off the end of her nose as she hugged herself even tighter in a vain attempt to keep warm.

"Just pay for the damn room," she muttered.

The motel owner removed the phone from the top of the counter replacing it with a room key and smiled at the couple. Booth opened his wallet again and removed a credit card. "How much for the room?"

"I'll charge you nice folks eighty-five bucks for the night." He took Booth's card and then returned it a moment later with a receipt for him to sign.

As Booth scribbled his signature on the piece of paper, he noticed Brennan shivering once again. The motel owner noticed as well and offered a small smile.

"Do you two have a change of clothes?" he asked as he placed the receipt with Booth's signature in his cash drawer.

"No, we hadn't planned on staying in Delaware overnight," the agent conceded.

"Well, for twenty bucks I'll let you have this pair of men's flannel pajamas." He reached under the counter and pulled out a package of green and blue plaid pajamas.

Brennan and Booth's eyebrows both quirked at the man's offer.

"You just happen to have pajamas for sell?" Booth narrowed his eyes at the man as he reached inside his wallet for his money. Hell, to change out of the wet clothes currently stuck to his body, he would pay a hundred and twenty dollars.

The elderly man grinned at the agent. "Son, sometimes the women around here take more than just a man's wallet. After a few naked patrons, well, I decided that this was a good side business."

Brennan rolled her eyes at the type of establishment she and Booth were being forced to inhabit for the evening.

Booth simply shook his head and removed two sopping wet twenty dollar bills from his wallet. "Fine, we need two pairs…"

"Only got the one."

"And it just keeps getting worse," Brennan said as she grabbed the key to their room off the counter and stalked out the door.

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Quickly unlocking the door to the room, Brennan stepped inside, her hand fumbling along the side of the wall for the light switch. As she finally located the switch, light flooded the room and flickered as lightening flashed outside, quickly followed by a booming round of thunder.

She glanced around the room and was surprised by how clean it appeared. She warily eyed the queen size bed and noted that there was not a couch for a certain FBI agent to sleep on. Brennan continued to take a quick inventory of the room—a small table with two chairs, a television bolted to the dresser and two nightstands, one with a copy of the Holy Bible prominently displayed on top of it.

Spying the heat register on the wall near the entrance to the bathroom, Brennan walked over and turned the dial to seventy-two degrees. She then walked over to the closet and removed several hangers, placing them on the bed. Logically she knew that she and Booth could not sleep in wet clothes.

Booth entered the room, with the package of pajamas in his hand, and found her removing her jacket. He tossed the package on the bed and smiled sheepishly.

"At least one of us will have dry clothes to sleep in tonight," he offered as he watched her hang her soaked jacket in the closet.

She sighed as she turned to face him. "Don't be ridiculous Booth. I'll take the shirt and you can have the pants. As for sleeping arrangements…"

They both glanced over at the bed and then at each other. Booth gulped as the images of his dreams involving a certain anthropologist flashed through his head.

"It's a big bed," he finally said.

"And we're both adults," she added.

"And I can control myself," he said, offering his most charming smile.

Brennan grabbed a few hangers and the pajamas from the top of the bed and stalked toward the bathroom. "Apparently not," she mumbled as she slammed the door.

He stood next to the bed for a few minutes and stared at the bathroom door. Her comment had obviously been about him and Cam. He had no clue how he was going to repair the damage he had caused. Booth didn't know what hurt more—her seeming rejection of him or her lack of trust in him. The sound of the shower broke his reverie and he walked over to the bathroom door.

"Hey Bones, you hungry?" He knocked on the door but didn't receive an answer. "I'm going next door to the diner so…I guess I'll, uh…I'll get something for you too…"

He stepped away from the door and picked up the key before exiting the room. Swiftly moving through the unrelenting rain, he made his way across the parking lot to the diner. As he entered the warm restaurant, Booth inhaled the heavenly aroma of coffee, burgers and fries. He rubbed his hands together and licked his lips.

A middle-aged woman of average height with a little extra weight around her stomach and hips approached him and smiled. "Hey there honey. Looks like you got caught out in this big bad storm."

"Yeah, looks like." He smiled at her as he walked toward the counter and sat down.

"What can I get for you tonight, handsome?"

"Well," he began as he eyed her name tag, "Eve, I need two cheeseburgers, fries and a couple of soft drinks to go."

"Sure thing." She turned toward the kitchen area and yelled. "Hal, two burgers with cheese and put some more fries on!"

Booth glanced around the restaurant and smiled. It reminded him of the diner that he and Brennan had begun to frequent while Wong Foo's was temporarily closed. He guessed that even Sid needed a vacation now and then.

A slow smile crept over his face as a plan to create a moment between himself and Brennan entered his mind.

"Hey Eve, can you put two orders of fries with just one of those burgers?"

"Sure sweetie pie. So no fries with the other one?"

"Nope, just the burger for that one order."

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Hot water cascaded down her body as Brennan stood in the shower, relishing the warmth. She had heard Booth's question about whether she was hungry but had declined to answer, finding herself still in a vindictive mood as far as he was concerned. Try as she might, Brennan could not shake the feeling of hurt she had tried to deny. And it wasn't just Booth—it was her team, her friends, especially Angela…

She sighed as she placed her already wet head under the warm stream of water and rolled her shoulders to release some of her tension. Her night with Sean had provided a temporary haven from the past few weeks of mounting tension, frustration and even the nightmares that had plagued her after the shooting. She rubbed her hands over her face in an effort to erase the eerie images of that night from her mind—to erase the image of Gil Lappin's eyes staring up at her as blood seeped out of his chest.

When Cam had been informed of the shooting and Brennan's part in it, she had tried to force the anthropologist to see a therapist before being allowed to return to work. Ignoring Brennan's protest, Cam had ordered her to be at the therapist's office at the appointed time or face the consequences. Two hours later Booth had strolled into her office and announced that Cam had changed her mind—Brennan was encouraged but not required to speak with a therapist about the incident. She remembered how Booth had smiled at her as he leaned against the door jamb of her office. "You know you can always talk to me, right Bones? Anytime, no matter what."

As she turned the shower knobs to the off position and grabbed a towel to dry her body, Brennan pondered his offer. She had woken up many nights from a nightmare in the past two weeks and reached for her phone to call him…just to hear him tell her that it would be alright. And that's when she would see Jasper sitting on her nightstand, reminding her that she would be okay—that she had a friend, a partner, who would always make sure of that. Did the fact that he was sleeping with her boss change that?

For some inexplicable reason, it did. She couldn't explain why it did but it had changed her perception of the person she trusted more than she had allowed herself to trust anyone in a long time.

After drying herself with a towel, Brennan slipped the large pajama shirt over her torso and buttoned it. She checked her underwear which she had placed over the heat vent in the bathroom and found it to be dry enough to wear. She placed her remaining wet clothes on hangers and exited the bathroom to find Booth sitting at the small table with two styrofoam containers and cups.

Booth glanced up, immediately noticing her long bare legs. The shirt hit her mid-thigh and she had rolled up the cuffs of the shirt a couple of times. He continued to stare as she walked over to the closet, hung up her remaining clothes and rubbed her wet hair with a towel.

"I got us some food," he managed to say as she turned back toward him.

"Okay." She moved toward the table and took a seat beside him. As she opened her container of food, she realized how hungry she really was.

Glancing over at Booth, her brow was knit in confusion. "No fries?"

He opened his container exposing a mountain of warm salty fries. Placing one fry in his mouth, he began to chew. "You said earlier that you weren't hungry."

She reached over and picked up one of his fries. He slapped her hand and grinned as she quickly ate the stolen food item. "You really need to stop stealing my food."

"Uh-huh," she replied as she reached over once again. "So is it your gut that's telling you Lucas Barnes is guilty?" That's right Brennan, keep the discussion work related and professional…forget the fact that you're going to be sharing a bed with Booth tonight.

He took a bite of his burger, secretly happy that he had managed to get his moment with Brennan—her stealing his fries, discussing their case. "Gut and common sense," he replied as he tapped the side of his head with his index finger.

Pushing her burger aside, Brennan concentrated solely on the fries in front of Booth. "It's very possible that Katie and Lucas broke up…"

He pointed a finger at her and grinned. "And you just provided a possible motive right there Bones."

"If she and Lucas separated once they arrived in DC, she could have been killed by anyone Booth."

"Okay, granted that is a possibility…but more likely it was the boyfriend." He watched as she ate and contemplated all of the scenarios that resulted in Katie Stonestreet lying on the table in her lab. "When we get back to DC tomorrow, we'll go have a little talk with Mr. Barnes."

She nodded as she stared at him. "You're still soaked."

He took the last bite of his burger. "Yeah," he said with his mouth full, "but food took priority."

She smiled slightly at him and shook her head. "I left the pajama pants in the bathroom for you," she informed him as she pushed her chair from the table and stood.

He wiped his mouth with a napkin and followed her lead. "Thanks Bones," he replied as he picked up a few hangers from the bed. His eyes flitted down to her bare feet and slowly began to travel up her legs, appreciating their tone slender form. His gaze paused on the hem of her shirt as it inched up her thigh in unison with the movement of her raising her arms to comb her fingers through her long wet hair.

Maybe I can't control myself. He retreated to the bathroom where a cold shower was now on his itinerary.

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The bright green comforter on the bed did not diminish Brennan's sudden exhausted state, though it did make her wonder who had selected the color scheme for the room. She pulled the file on Katie Stonestreet from her bag and watched as water dripped off the papers.

"That's great," she mumbled to herself as she walked to the bed and placed the file on the nightstand. She moved the grotesque green comforter back to reveal yellow sheets bright enough to rival the sun. After fluffing a couple of pillows and placing them against the headboard, Brennan sat down on the bed, her legs crossed "Indian style" in front of her.

Slowly peeling open the wet folder, she carefully pulled the pieces of paper apart. The photograph of Katie Stonestreet, smiling, caught in a carefree moment was in direct opposition to the description of the angry sullen young woman Carl had described. While she wondered what events had occurred in the teenager's life to cause such a drastic change in personality, Brennan knew all too well the heavy hand that life could deal a person.

Perusing the file proved to be the distraction that she needed from her current locale and situation. She barely registered Booth opening the bathroom door and entering the room.

He grinned, drying his short hair with a towel as he took in the sight of Brennan sitting on the bed deep in concentration. Booth sauntered over to the closet and hung his clothes up to dry. He let the towel fall around his neck and stretched his tired muscles.

"Hey Bones, you mind if I turn on the television?" he asked as he picked up the remote control from the nightstand on his side of the bed.

She glanced up at her partner, taking in his bare muscular, well defined chest and toned abs. She quickly noted how low the pajama pants hung on his narrow waist, dipping into dangerous unchartered territory…at least outside of her occasional dreams.

"And worse," she whispered hoarsely.

Author's notes: (quickly takes cover in the cereal box fortress and once again laughs maniacally) Your fruit slushies are no match for my mountain of boxes BonesDBchippie! Sorry to leave you all hanging there…well not really. Press the little review button and let me know what you think so far. Oh and Jean, I added the last part describing Booth's, er, assets just for you.