Hint: Didn't you just love Roxy and Tony...? R&R if you liked it!
Chapter four: Hot Blooded
Brennan and Booth stood in the doorway of the hotel's small sports centre looking typical as Brennan had her arms crossed in front of her chest and Booth had his hands resting on his belt, his jacket tucked behind them. They were observing the men and women working out, some with guilty expressions as they recalled the snacks eaten the previous day, some looking determined in their attempt to stay fit and healthy.
"What do you want to do?" Brennan asked as they glanced around.
In the gym in front of them several people were using the fitness machines. Booth's gaze shifted to the opposite side and he noticed another door.
"Let's go see what's behind that door, shall we?" he said and approached it with Brennan following closely.
"Wow!" he exclaimed as they entered the second gym.
The sight of hanging bags and an actual boxing ring brought back memories from a case in Las Vegas they'd solved together while working undercover as a passionate young couple.
"Why don't you show me something, Tiger?" Brennan whispered from behind Booth's back and looked at him seductively. She all but worried about the smoothness with which they got back into their parts of sexy girlfriend and macho boxer.
"Anything for my baby," Booth played along and took off his jacket. He threw it aside and grinned broadly as he prepared to throw his fists into the hanging bag. All energy gathered and he punched for dear life while images of Brennan dressed in a short black dress and a blood-red gown flashed through his mind.
Amazed. That was the only word appropriate for how he'd felt when she first emerged from the bathroom in the figure-hugging black dress. Not surprised, amazed. Any hot-blooded man would have been taken aback by such beauty. No, it certainly hadn't been hard for him to act as her lover, not hard at all. In fact, from both sides it had seemed to come quite natural...
Oh, you big show-off, Brennan thought as she watched 'her guy' victimise the hanging bag. It made her think about their trip to Vegas, about their cover of being a loosely committed couple. It had been great fun for one thing but confusing for another, although she hadn't allowed herself to think about that until they were back home. She could no longer claim that there wasn't anything between them. According to Booth, they were partners, as in two guys being partners. Which meant that to her he was essentially a woman if she followed his reasoning. Somehow Booth hadn't found that logical, though.
It was just that there had been something she'd felt for which she hadn't been able to find a rational explanation other than that she'd enjoyed being his girlfriend. Which was impossible. After all, he could be very annoying and they completely disagreed with each other on too many important matters. For instance his thing with God, or his invicible friend, as she liked to refer to Him. And then marriage. He had proposed to the mother of his child, once. But Brennan thought that marriage was like some archaic institution. She didn't need a piece of paper to prove her commitment. Kids. He had one, she'd never want to put a child in this crazy world.
Brennan banned her thoughts to the back of her mind when Booth was finally done attacking the hanging bag.
"Nobody tops that, sweetheart," he grinned.
"I can see my man's still in great shape."
A small smile crossed her features and she met his gaze. Intensity sprang from their eyes as they experienced one of their 'weird moments' where other people would start feeling uncomfortable holding the other one's gaze for more than just a second but where Booth and Brennan could look at each other for more than just a passing moment. Not even the eventual aversion of their eyes was awkward.
For Booth that look felt like a kiss and for Brennan his gaze meant protection. Brennan hadn't had a connection as strong as theirs in her whole life and secretly she thoroughly enjoyed having someone's full attention. In a way, it made her feel special. It made her feel cared for. Like she belonged with someone. Most importantly, it made her feel like she had family. Perhaps this was why Booth sometimes felt like she was just a child, needing someone to look after her, to love her. Someone she could come to when she felt scared or sad. In contrast, on other occasions she was a full-grown woman perfectly capable of handling everything that came her way herself. This was what she radiated when she was working or interrogating a suspect. Or knocking down a man.
Booth threw his arm around her shoulders and pressed her against him.
"How about Roxy Baby gives it a try herself? Show me what you got," he tempted.
A laugh escaped Brennan's throat and she replied, "You know I don't box, Tony."
"Aw, come on, honey. You know you just excell in what, five fighting sports?" he continued as if he hadn't heard her.
"Three types of martial arts! Not boxing."
"Oh, but I'm sure you'll do well. Just give it a try," Booth replied as he gently pushed her towards the hanging bag and began taking off her jacket.
"Fine! But don't be so bossy," Brennan relented and let the jacket slip off her arms.
She made sure she stood stable enough and held up her fists in front of her face.
"Okay, what do I do now?"
"You punch the bag," Booth superfluously answered.
"I get that," Brennan replied and threw a few punches at it.
"Not bad," Booth told her as he bent his body sideways so she could see his head from behind the hanging bag.
"Thank you," Brennan said and lowered her hands assuming she was done.
"Wait! You're not done yet," Booth quickly told her and gave her a few directions.
"Now hit it. Hit it hard," he finished his brief boxing lection and braced himself behind the hanging bag.
Brennan repeated his words in her head as she concentrated and prepared herself to punch on full force a few moments later. Unfortunately though, just as she launched her punch Booth moved the bag aside to see why it was taking her so long. Not even Brennan's reaction speed was great enough to stop her movement and even though she immediately held back some of her force she punched him hard in the face.
Booth grasped at his face and stumbled backwards.
"Booth!" Brennan let out a shriek and quickly made her way to him.
"Are you okay?" she asked anxiously as she placed her hands over his and slowly tried to move them off his face so she could take a look at it.
"Ah, careful," Booth moaned.
Brennan could see exactly where she'd hit him.
"Do you think it's fractured?" she asked him with concern.
"No," he groaned, "Just bruised."
"I'm sorry I punched you," Brennan apologized as she looked for something to stop the bleeding in his nose. When she didn't find anything useful, she squeezed the bridge of his nose hard.
"Squeeze it right here and I'll go get something for your nose."
Brennan was back within a few moments and kneeled down beside him to treat his nose.
"Good punch, Bones," Booth couldn't help but compliment her.
"You're being sarcastic now, right?"
"No, really. Great punch."
"I told you I'm sorry."
"I mean it. A woman should be able to defend herself. Take down a guy once in awhile. You... certainly can."
"Thanks," Brennan smiled and carefully wiped some blood off his face.
"There," she said as she was finished, "Your nose should be fine."
Brennan stood up from the floor and reached out her hand to Booth to help him to his feet. He hesitated for merely a second, then took her hand and let her pull him up.
"Thanks, Bones."
They locked their gazes for the second time that day and Booth cupped her cheek with his right hand. Brennan lightly rested her head in it and smiled as again, she had his full attention.
That evening Booth and Brennan were having dinner together at the restaurant. They had spent the remainder of the day taking walks through the hotel, looking at the fish in the restaurant, reading magazines from the foyer which they both found uninteresting and eventually ended up on the sofa in Brennan's room, talking. Talking about things they'd done when they were kids, about Booth's favourite restaurant, about Brennan's car and many other subjects except work. It had to be possible for them to have a conversation and not discuss work. As it appeared it was, and once they'd got going, many topics presented itselves that did not include their jobs.
In these two days they had become even more close and although Booth still preferred spending time with his son, he didn't worry much about his lost time with him. Booth was with family.
They were both suddenly interrupted in their thoughts as a scream came from the foyer. Their heads shot up and without saying a word they threw their napkins on the table simultaneously, stood up from the table and made for the foyer.
"What's going on?" Booth asked as they entered.
Brennan took in the scene in front of her. The desk lady stood timidly as a woman sitting on her knees was frantically talking to a little boy whose friend glanced around nervously.
"Miss, calm down. What happened?" Booth asked the woman when he'd come within earshot of her.
"Look at my son!" she cried and moved aside so the little boy was visible. Booth's eyes widened and Brennan's narrowed when they noticed that the boy was covered in blood.
Booth averted his eyes and looked at Brennan, nearly unnoticably signing for her to come over and take a look.
"Who are you?" the woman asked.
"I'm special FBI agent Seeley Booth and this is-"
"Temperance Brennan, forensic anthropologist. We're partners," Brennan interrupted. She hated it when someone else tried to introduce her to another person. As if she couldn't speak for herself.
The woman looked slightly confused at Brennan's job description and turned to Booth.
"Mark- my son and his friend were playing hide and seek. I told them to be back for dinner and then he showed up like this. Covered in blood," she said in a small voice.
"Is it okay if my partner talks to Mark about what happened?" Booth asked.
The woman nodded her head.
"Yeah. Sure," she said as she swallowed and calmed down.
"Let's go sit over there while doctor Brennan examines your son."
Booth and the woman turned and walked out of earshot. Brennan squatted down and rested her elbows on her knees.
"Hi. My name is doctor Temperance Brennan."
"Hello, my name- I am Mark," the boy stammered.
Brennan nodded encouragingly at him.
"How are you doing, Mark?"
"I- I'm fine I think," he answered hesitantly.
"Yeah? Do you mind if I take a look?"
"Okay..."
Brennan examined his skin for any injuries.
"That's a lot of blood you got on you," she observed. "I would like to know where you got it from."
Mark stared at her.
"I didn't do anything wrong..." he started to say.
Brennan felt sorry for him and softly squeezed his upper arm.
"Nobody's saying that you did. Don't be afraid, okay?"
"Me and Thomas were playing hide and seek and then I hid in a secret place and I fell on something soft and when I got up I saw it was a man and he was dead and his blood was on me."
There was one thing that Brennan liked best about kids and that was that they were able to describe things the way they were, without any understatements or exaggerations. Their observations weren't clouded by their judgement yet.
"How about you show agent Booth and me where the secret hiding place was and afterwards we let your mom clean you up while we take care of the dead man," Brennan suggested.
Mark nodded his head that he agreed and Brennan wiped some sticky hair out of his face.
"You can go tell your mom that you're okay," she told him friendly.
"What the hell happened here?" Booth asked with disbelief as he and Brennan entered the crammed space and she aimed her flashlight at the dead body on the floor.
"Well, there's no bones here, but let's find out."