Only if I Chapter 6, a bones fanfic

Ch6

Vacation's over, craptastic as it was. Seriously, what a waste of paid time off. Oh well, as my revenge I wrote part of this at work today. Which probably means I will probably have to work extra hard tomorrow, but it was worth it. As long as I didn't leave a copy of this in the printer …

Thanks to my sister for editing some of this for me. I don't know her cyber name, but I do know her fake bar-hopping name, so thanks Alana S!

There is some violence in this chapter, but again, nothing gratuitous.

An icy chill work its way down Booth's spine as the gravity of their situation sank in. What the hell had they blundered into? The three trucks entered his mind. Damn! He should have been more careful. Brennan shifted beside him and he slid his hand up her back. Pressing on her hair he whispered, "Don't move." She didn't respond, but he could feel her still.

Lifting his head slowly, Booth looked around, trying to get his bearings in the darkness. The moon gave off just enough light to reveal the outlines of the buildings, but not enough to reveal what was lurking deep in the shadows. He counted three shooters; two with semiautomatic handguns and one with a rifle. There were fifteen bullets in his clip and six in the revolver. His mind worked quickly, formulating a plan. It definitely wasn't an ideal situation, but one he felt sure he could handle. Though he found himself wanting to just hold Bones tightly and make sure she was safe. Despite her proficiency with firearms, her lack of tactical training and tendency to be recklessly aggressive worried him.

"Booth," she called next to him. Her whisper pierced the night.

"What?" he answered out of the corner of his mouth, not breaking his concentration.

"Gun," she said simply. Booth shook his head; he could feel her hand exploring his side, searching for his pocket.

"Wait," he hissed louder this time. A single shot rang out and she froze.

"Federal Agent," Booth yelled. "Hold your fire."

Two rapid fire shots were the only answer. "Fuck!" Brennan said as she flinched at his side. Booth returned fire with two shots of his own, hoping to buy them enough time to carry out his plan. Propping himself up on one elbow, Booth turned towards Brennan, who was still lying pressed flat to the ground.

"Ok, Bones, we gotta move, if we stay here, they'll just pick us off." He said as he slipped out of his jacket, glad he had worn the black shirt underneath. The shimmery material of Brennan's dress made her an easy target in the moonlight. She was quiet as she pulled it on and he thought he could see her shaking. "You ok?"

"Yes," she replied resolutely.

Booth wasn't so sure, but there was no time to question her. He nodded and pulled out his phone. Holding it under his hand to block the light, he called and tersely explained the circumstances and the need for backup. Though given their rather isolated location, Booth knew that he and Brennan couldn't afford to wait for help.

"We need some cover. I'm gonna go first," Booth explained. Glancing around, he pulled out the .38 and smeared some mud on the shiny barrel, hoping to dull its reflection. "Towards the shed," he nodded towards the corner of the building. An old trailer was parked adjacent to it and he figured it was their best chance. "There are three shooters, shots fired from there, there and there." Booth illustrated as he spoke. "You cover anything left and behind. I've got ahead and to the right. This light is tricky, but watch for the flash when they fire. Aim for that. You got all this?"

"Right, yes," Brennan said, brushing her hair out of her face. Booth thought she looked pale, but perhaps it was just the dim light. She was clutching the gun tightly in her right hand, and appeared determined.

"Ok then," Booth said softly. He reached out and stroked her cheek. "When I get there, you wait a minute and then follow. You only have six shots, so don't use more than four on me." He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. Brennan reached up and squeezed his hand. Her heart was pounding so hard she didn't think she could speak. Booth slowly crept off.

Brennan couldn't stop her hand as it went to her side, nor was she surprised to feel a warm sticky substance. It was just a flesh wound, but she had never been shot before and she was concerned about the bleeding. She shook her head and tried to ignore the throbbing pain. Wiping the blood off on Booth's jacket, she curled both hands around the grip of the Smith & Wesson and concentrated on her assigned target areas.

The first shot from their unknown assailants came seconds after Booth exposed himself on the moonlit field. Brennan fired seconds before Booth, aiming at the flash of gunpowder. Three more shots followed almost simultaneously and she reacted automatically, squeezing the trigger with a surprisingly steady hand. A mental tally went off as she fired her fourth shot and she paused, watching in horror as Booth stumbled and dove for the protection of the building.

And then it was silent and she could hear nothing but her own rapid breathing. Booth had been hit, she was sure of it. After the fourth bullet when she had hesitated. Panic filled her and she looked futilely in his direction, but Booth was well hidden in shadows. Run. She knew she needed to run. Needed to get to Booth. The field equipment and shoes would have to be left behind. Struggling to her feet, Brennan tucked her head down and sprinted, momentarily unaware of the pain from her own wound.

A bullet whizzed behind her, burrowing harmlessly into the dirt. Relief swept though her when she heard the sharp report from Booth's gun as he returned fire. She ran hard, not slowing until she was almost on top of him.

"Whoa!" Booth braced himself as she landed against his chest.

"You're hit," she declared breathlessly.

"I'm fine, it's just my arm," Booth said brushing aside her concern. "You're limping."

"I stepped on something," Brennan lied, figuring he did not need anything else to worry about right now. A quick with her hand told her that the bleeding was slowing. She worried about Booth's arm, but it didn't seem to be bothering him.

The crack of a solitary shot broke through the night. Even as disoriented as she was right now, Brennan could tell it was not from the same location as earlier. Booth immediately sighted towards the sound, but didn't fire. "I think we have two shooters down," he whispered. "He might be running."

"What do we do now? What the hell is going on?" She stepped closer to him until they were touching, taking comfort in the warmth from his body. She felt so tense that she was ready to jump out of her skin. But there was a calm confidence about Booth. Things like this were probably common occurrences in the Army and she had no doubt that Booth was an excellent soldier.

"For now we wait," Booth said. "I don't want to take any chances with y-" his voice cracked and Booth trailed off. She knew the chink in his armor was because of her. The moment passed quickly and Booth's cool exterior returned. "And I don't know what we walked into," Booth said scanning the night. He couldn't see or hear anything. They had gotten two, he was sure, but the whereabouts of the third shooter worried him.

"So you think these are the people who killed Dr. Ramsay?" she questioned, flexing her fingers which were stiff from holding the gun so tightly.

Booth shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe the exotic animal stuff is still going on. I know Leon's truck was here. I don't know if he was involved. We could have interrupted a buy or delivery."

Suddenly they heard a car start and roar off. "Shit!" Booth exclamed. He jumped up as though to give chase, but thought better of it.

"He's getting away!" Brennan protested.

"I know," Booth said, "but we don't know if there is anyone else still out there. Backup should be here soon." He pulled his phone out, dialed, and spoke in hushed tones. "ETA is about eight minutes," he explained as he crammed his phone back into his pocket.

Brennan saw him wince as he moved. It was too dark where they were for her to properly examine his wounds and the flashlight was still out of the question. "Give me your tie," she ordered. Booth tried to undo the knot, but was having little success with a gun in one hand and a bullet in the other arm. Leaning over, she deftly untied the tie and slipped it over his head. Carefully, she traced her hands along his arm, trying to find the wound. Regardless of her efforts to be gentle, Booth cursed when her fingers crossed the wound. "Sorry," she whispered. Brennan tied the tie off above the wound, satisfied for now with her limited first aid.

Sitting back down on the ground next to him, she fought off a shiver. The night air was cool and a light breeze had picked up, carrying the fragrant scent of wildflowers across the field. Almost any other situation and she would have found the evening and setting enchanting; now it seem more like a landscape for nightmares. She tugged her dress down further over her legs, which she was surprised to realize were shaking. Hours ago she had been shopping. Finding the perfect dress seemed so important. Looking good for Booth seemed so important. Now her hair was a disheveled mess, the Chanel gown was dirty and torn and the six hundred dollar shoes abandoned in a muddy field. It all seemed so far removed.

Booth still sat silently, peering out into the night. Brennan was glad for his watchfulness. She hated to admit it, but she was definitely shaken. There had been a few life or death situations in her past, but this one had really upset her. Whether it was because it was so unexpected, because both she and Booth had been hurt, or because they were supposed to be on a damn date - she wasn't sure. Sliding even closer to him, Brennan mentally began to recite all the bones of the human body in alphabetical order to calm herself. Booth leaned over and kissed her hair. "Not long now, Bones," he said.

Later, they learned that it was only twenty-seven minutes between the time Booth had made the initial call until backup arrived, but for both it felt like hours. Brennan jumped up as soon as she heard the FBI vehicles rumble into the complex, but Booth reached out a hand to stop her. "Wait." He stood up next to her, but didn't release her arm. "The area isn't secure. If you go running out there you could get shot. They know our position, they will find us."

Several minutes later, light beams bounced of the field in front of them. One came around the corner focused on the two of them. Brennan jumped, even though that is what they had been waiting for. Booth exchanged several words with the agent and holstered his Glock. He put his arm on Brennan's and together they followed the heavily armed agent back towards the parking lot.

As soon as they were clear of the structures, they were swarmed by numerous people. Next to her, she could hear Booth explaining to a man in dark suit exactly what had happened, but it seemed far away. Her eyes darted around, trying to take in all the activity and stopping on an ambulance that was just pulling in. "Booth," she interrupted touching his arm. Both men looked startled at her words. They had been so intent on their conversation it appeared they forgot she was there.

Booth immediately felt guilty and put his arm around her again and pulled her closer. "What?" he asked softly. She gestured towards the ambulance and he nodded. Agent Thomas, to whom he had been speaking, followed her gaze and then looked at Booth's arm.

"Get that taken care of," he said gruffly, "and we'll talk when the sweep is complete."

Neither spoke as they walked towards the ambulances. Booth kept his arm around her shoulders, the resolve to keep their relationship a secret seemingly forgotten. "Bones," Booth said, stopping for a moment. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Booth. Let's get you to the paramedics." She tried to continue walking, but Booth held her in place.

"Temperance," he tried again. She shook her head and her eyes were bright with tears. This time when she headed for the paramedics, he followed.

"What about you, ma'am?" a young paramedic asked as he approached Brennan. She was clutching Booth's coat tightly around her while watching the medics examine his arm.

From the back of the ambulance Booth yelled something about her foot. The paramedic looked down at her stockinged feet and moved to examine them. Instead, Brennan crossed to the other ambulance. She slipped Booth's jacket off, holding it tightly as she exposed where the bullet had grazed her thigh. The wound was a little deeper than she thought, but still just a flesh wound. "Do you mind?" the kid asked, motioning for her to slide her dress up. As he cleaned and dressed the wound she watched a swat team member walk towards her with a ruined pair of Jimmy Choo's. He set them on the ground, gave her a brisk nod, and quickly trotted away.

"Well, you're going to need some stitches," the medic said apologetically. "We can get you to the hospital now."

"I'd like to ride with Agent Booth," Brennan declared as she put his jacket back on. "Thank you."

Booth was still sitting in the back with his shirt off. The medic was just wrapping thick gauze around his upper left arm. The same agent as earlier was in a heated conversation with Booth, which stopped abruptly as the young paramedic announced from behind her "Hey Cal, she needs some stitches on her leg and wants to ride in with him." He gestured towards Booth "You got them both?"

"Sure thing, kid. Thanks." Brennan crawled in and sat down next to Booth. The other agent said he would speak with Booth soon. Booth looked expectantly down at her foot, but looked up confused.

"I thought you needed stitches?" he asked confused.

Clearing her throat, Brennan said in a muted voice, "I do. A bullet grazed my leg here," she pointed to her upper thigh. Booth's face went white, but before he could speak the paramedics interrupted them as they prepared to leave. Just before the doors shut on the back of the ambulance, a black van with the word 'Coroner' in large white letters drove past. This time it was Brennan whose face drained of color. Booth took hold of her hand and held it tightly the entire way to the hospital.

Two hours later, the pair were reunited on the hard plastic chairs in the waiting room of the St. Agnes Hospital emergency room. Booth exited an exam room and walked towards his partner, sitting silently next to her, leaving one chair between them. They'd barely spoke since the shootout, and Booth had no idea where to begin. He couldn't catch her eye. She was sitting straight up, staring blankly across the room, and still wearing his black dinner jacket over her dirty dress. "Bones," Booth said leaning forward, careful not to put too much weight on his arm.

"They said they got the bullet. It was a clean wound that should heal nicely," she said flatly, still not looking at him.

"Yeah, it didn't hurt the bone," Booth said with a small smile, before turning serious and adding, "they said you needed twenty-three stitches."

Brennan stayed silent. Booth ached to take her in his arms and hold her, but he could tell that right now she wanted her space.

"I'm sorry," she began in a small voice. "I hesitated after the fourth shot and you got hit. And it was my fault we were there in the first place."

"Don't," He said softly, moving to sit next to her. "Bones, none of this-"

"Agent Booth," a booming voice called from across the room. Booth looked up to see a very angry looking Cullen heading straight for them, with Cam behind rushing to keep up. Cullen stopped before them and studied them; taking in Brennan's appearance and Booth's black dress pants and blue scrub top. He shook his head and ordered in a strained voice, "Booth, come with me." Booth gave Brennan a quick look before following Cullen around the corner.

Arms crossed, Cam stood before Brennan, who kept her eyes glued to the ground.

"Do you think you are fucking James Bond?" Cullen yelled causing both women to turn in that direction. "You go out in a goddamn dinner jacket, with your partner all dolled up, and get into a shootout! What the fuck were you even doing out there tonight? You do realize you work for the FBI, don't you?"

Booth's response was unintelligible as the men stepped into an exam room. Cam cleared her throat. "Dr. Brennan, are you alright?"

"Yes, it is just a flesh wound," Brennan replied robotically.

Cam nodded and sat down next to her. "What were you and Booth doing at the animal clinic?" she asked.

"We realized that Dr. Ramsay could have been involved with selling illegal animals. His wife lied about the animal that cause the injury to the ulna, and the organic material Hodgins found could have been from food fed to these animals. I wanted to get a soil sample."

"And why did you and Booth respond in this … manner." Cam gave Brennan a quick once over.

"We were on a date." Brennan finally looked at her boss and was surprised to see compassion in her eyes.

"Brennan," Cam began delicately, "tonight I want you to go home and rest, but we are going to have to do something about this. This is your second shooting in under a year. That's tough for anyone." Brennan nodded numbly, wondering if they had confirmed yet that it was her bullet. Hers or Booth's. Did it really matter? A crushing feeling of guilt made it hard to breathe. "You won't be alone tonight, will you?"

"No," Brennan replied. "Thank you."

Cam stood up. "Call me in the morning; I should have more information then."

Brennan watched as her boss spoke with a woman at the reception desk and then left. Suddenly, she felt the need for fresh air. Looking back in the direction Booth had gone she wished for him to come back so that they could leave. Though remembering Cullen's angry words, she wasn't sure Booth would leave with her. Surely Cullen thought the shooting was all her fault. Who knows what he thought about the rest.

Standing up, Brennan wobbled a bit and could tell the painkillers were already taking effect. She dodged a young child weaving his way through the room and walked towards the door. "Bones," she heard Booth call from behind her. Hesitating, she looked back. Booth was coming towards her, Cullen behind him on the phone. Brennan turned and walked out the door, taking a deep breath as the cool night air revived her senses. A man was just paying his cab fare and she headed for the open car door. Turning just before climbing in, she saw Booth standing at the emergency room entrance, his arms out as if to ask where she was going. They stared at each other for a moment before she closed the door and the cab drove away, her eyes closed tightly so she wouldn't have to watch him recede into the distance.

As the cab pulled up to Angela's building, Brennan reached for her purse to pay the fare, only to realize it was still in the Suburban. Tears sprung into her eyes and she didn't bother to wipe them away, though she was slightly embarrassed that after everything that happened it was this small thing that finally broke her.

"I'm sorry … I don't have my purse," she said trying to hold the sobs in. "If you wait, I can, I can get money from my friend."

"Yea right, lady," the cab driver said with a tired sigh. Every time he picked someone up from the hospital something like this happened. Sure he had sympathy and all, but sympathy wouldn't feed his kids.

"No, I will," Brennan protested, "I'll pay extra. I'll be right back." As she hurried towards Angela's apartment she prayed that her friend was home. She didn't think she could convince the cab driver to go all the way to Hodgins' without any visible means of payment.

Angela opened her door moments after Brennan rang the bell. "Oh my god, sweetie! What happened?" she exclaimed taking in her friend's tearful and tattered appearance.

"I need some money for the cab," Brennan said sniffing. "I don't have my purse and …" She trailed off.

"Come in, come in." Angela put her arm around her and ushered Brennan in, worried her friend was about to collapse in the hallway. Angela turned to call for Jack, but he was already walking through the kitchen, wallet in hand.

"I'll take care of it," Hodgins said. He placed a hand on Brennan's shoulder as he passed. Angela could feel Brennan's strength waning and she guided her towards the couch.

"Oh Bren," Angela said. She held her friend tightly as Brennan began to sob.

"Where is she?" Booth asked the moment the door opened.

"Hey man," Hodgins said. He'd expected Booth to show up tonight, actually hoped he would, but Booth had taken long enough.

Booth paid Hodgins' friendly greeting no mind as he pushed through the door and stalked towards the living room. When he found it empty he turned back to Hodgins. "Where is Brennan?" Booth demanded in a steely voice.

Please review and let me know what you thought and thanks for reading!

Probably two or three more chapters and the next should be up this weekend. Brennan and Angela will talk. Booth and Hodgins will talk. Will Booth and Bones?