A/N: I apologize for the gratuitous fluff at the beginning of this! It's three in the morning, and this plot bunny just crawled out from under the bed and attacked me! I promise it will get more serious in the next chapter. And thanks to Robin Siskin for the notes on how to spell Zack. If it's like that on Eric Millegan's script, then it shall be. I was going by the Fox website, but as often as they get the quotes messed up...Oh well. Enjoy.

Zack was a few moments behind Casey going into the storage locker. She had carried all the equipment out, but she was still a little shaken by the events and planned to make two trips putting it away. After she left with the first load, he got the rest and followed. He would give her a better apology, and see what he could do to make amends.

As he pushed the door open with his shoulder, he looked around for her. Seeing no sign of her, he sat down the duffle bag containing the protective clothing and other gear, he looked around. He had seen her go in, and hadn't seen her leave, so that meant she had to be here somewhere.

"Casey?" he called softly. "Where are you?" No answer, so he resorted to one of Hodgins' tactics. "Hey, Rambo, where are you?" Still no answer. He was starting to get concerned. Was she that pissed at him, and didn't want to talk to him? Or was she that upset about what happened, and didn't want to talk to anyone?

He walked past a support post, and leaned on it for a moment. "Casey, I just want to tell you I'm sorry." Suddenly, both his wrists were grabbed and secured behind the post with a soft cloth. This confused and alarmed him, and he started to cry out, but a hand gently covered his mouth.

Casey stepped up beside him. "It's only me. If I uncover your mouth, are you going to freak out?" Confused (and slightly aroused, in a part of him he was trying mightily to ignore), but no longer frightened, he shook his head.

She took her hand off his mouth. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"You didn't think I'd forgive you that easy, did you? You'll have to be punished for giving up secrets that easily!" she said. Then her face grew softer, and she came in very close to him. "I'm only playing, I'll let you go if you want."

He thought on it for a few seconds. He knew she wouldn't hurt him. Though he wasn't sure what she was going to do to him, he decided to play along. "Go ahead! Do your worst!"

She grinned evilly. "You asked for it!" Her fingers dug viciously into his armpits, and he nearly collapsed. He was unbearably ticklish.

"No, please!" he begged. "Anything but that!" he squirmed to get away, but the knots in the cloth held firm. He was helpless, unable to defend himself against her attack. He couldn't pull his arms forward far enough to protect his vulnerable sides. He couldn't pull free. She had him pushed back against the post, so he couldn't wiggle around the post. His feet were free, so he could kick her, but he would die before he would do that. All he could do was plead and beg and endure the torture.

Finally, mercifully, she relented. He sat down hard, gasping, trying to regain control of himself. She reached around and untied his hands and sat down beside him. "You okay?" she asked. "Did I overdo it?" She looked at him, worried that she had crossed the line.

He put his hand on her shoulder, and smiled as he tried to catch his breath. "I'm fine. It's been a long time since I've been tickled."

"So you're not mad? I just saw you wondering around looking for me, then I found this towel, and I've wondered for a while whether or not you were ticklish. And I knew you were feeling guilty enough that I could probably get away with it."

"No," he said. "I'm not mad. Just remember, this means I owe you one. I'll catch you off guard, and you'll pay for this!" he smiled to let her know that it really was okay.

"So, you said it's been a long time. Someone else used to tickle you?"

"I was the youngest of eight siblings. Tickle torture was one of my oldest brother's favorite games. And he wasn't as nice about it as you were. With that many against you at once, you were completely immobilized, and it could go on for hours. Made for a rough childhood. And of course, it was usually me, because I was the weird one."

She laughed. "I know. My older brother used to do that to us when we would steal his toys." She stopped talking abruptly, realizing what she had said.

Zack looked over at her. "You have a brother? Where is he? What does he do?"

She looked at the ground. "He's been dead almost ten years." She jumped to her feet. "Well, they'll be looking for us. Let's get back to work!" And then she was gone.

Zack sat there in the floor for a few minutes, gathering his thoughts. And pulling said thoughts away from certain body parts. Did she really not have any idea what she did to him? Or how hard it was not to put his arms around her and stare into her eyes until there was no question left as to how he felt about her? He had referred to her little game as torture, but the real torture was trying to control his thoughts and actions around her. Even with them unbearable sensations shooting through him, it felt so good just to have her touch him.

As the blood rushed back to his brain, something else occurred to him. She had a brother that was dead. And she said 'we' indicating another sibling or possibly a close cousin. And this was more than he knew about her family. Actually, it was all he knew about her family. Maybe he should ask some questions…

He got up, dusted himself off, and headed out to see what was going on in the lab.

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They processed the body, cataloguing everything. Casey proposed that the boy had simply fallen through the hole, but Dr, Brennan had chastised her for jumping to conclusions. There was way too much to do before they could form a picture, but Booth liked her theory. He only had one question. "What was he doing up there?"

"Probably just thinking," she said. "Probably felt like there was nowhere else he could think."

While everyone was contemplating that, the fire department pager went off, giving directions to a car fire in district three. "Is that you?" asked Dr. Brennan. They had stopped over at the fire department on the way back from the scene.

"Nope," said Casey. "When it's me, my pager will make a little two-note melody. We call it tones. And I'm district six."

"So," asked Zack, casually. "You want to come over tonight? Get a pizza, watch a movie. Just…hang out?"

"Sure," she said. "Sounds good. I have the movie Serenity, if you know what that is."

Zack's eyes got big, and he wanted to propose to her right then and there. "You like "Firefly"?" he asked incredulously.

"Loved it. Have the whole series on DVD. Plus the movie. We can stop and pick them up, then-" They were interrupted by a sound from her belt.

"Are those the 'tones'?" he asked.

She nodded, and listened to the description of an apartment building on fire a few blocks away. "That would be me," she said to Dr. Brennan.

"So go," said her mentor without missing a beat.

"Really?"

"Yes," said Dr. Brennan. "We have this under control, and it sounds like people need you. Go."

Her face lit up, and she turned back to Zack. "I-"

He shook his head. "No problem. Just call me when you get done, I'll order the pizza. Come on by whenever you get done."

"Okay," she said excitedly. She started to leave, then turned back to him. "Uh, Zack?" He looked up at her. "I…uh…well, I don't have your number."

"Oh," he said. "I guess I forgot." He scribbled it quickly on a piece of paper, which she stuck in her jeans pocket and headed for the door. "Bye, everybody."

"Please be careful," Zack muttered under his breath.