Disclaimer: Not mine. Taken from the events and transcript of episode 'Two Bodies in the Lab' season 1 ep 15.

Author Notes: I have recently fallen in love with this show. I'm currently only up to the second episode of season 2 so I have a long way to go (not complaining!) My guess is that this kind of story has been done before, but thank you for taking the time to try mine!

Rating: T - Mainly for description of crime scenes and the occasional mild bad word. Romance the rest of the way, I promise!

Connected To You.

By Rianne

Chapter Two.

She had been shot at!

She stayed in place, in the shelter of the car.

Her heart was still racing.

In the tight grip of her shaking fist she still grasped the phone, the reason she had stumbled.

Her clumsiness with the technology had saved her life!

She flicked it back open.

Hearing the distant approach of sirens.

The restaurant staff had obviously called the police.

She had another call to make.

Because he'd hear about it anyway.

"Booth," he answered on the first ring and she realised that she hadn't really thought about how she was going to approach explaining this to him.

Her silence was breathless.

"Oh, Bones, did he bore you already? I told you this online dating wasn't your thing."

"Seeley," She heard his breath catch. That had captured his attention.

She never used his given name.

"Did something happen? Did he try something? Bones, you're scaring me."

"No," she replied quietly, not really trusting her own voice. "Something happened on the way to the restaurant. Someone shot at me and I..."

He cut her off crying, "Someone shot at you!"

She could hear movement on his end, as if he was stumbling around, perhaps dressing.

"I'm okay, and the police are on their way, I..."

"I'm on my way." He sounded afraid, determined, panicked.

"No, I'll be fine, I'm not hurt. There is no need; I can give a statement to the police. The shooter was in a black car. I didn't manage to catch the registration plate. "

"I'm on my way." He ignored her protests, "Are you in a safe place? Are there others around?"

"Yes, there are people gathering from the restaurant." She murmured, managing to find her feet, almost surprised at the residual shake in her legs. "I took shelter behind a car."

"The restaurant is on K Street?"

She considered lying to him, but there was no point.

"Yes, but you really don't need to come here."

Her words were in vain though; she had already heard the heavy closing of his car door and the wheel spin as he left the curb.

"Are you talking and driving Booth?" She tried to infuse the humour, but it seemed to fall flat.

"Bones, you were shot at, be serious," He sounded helpless, unlike himself.

She didn't like it.

"Tell me everything, from the beginning. Leave nothing out, it could be important."

"There's not much to tell. I got to the restaurant. Left my car."

The police were arriving and she could see what must be the restaurant manager pointing the officers in her direction.

"David called. Said he was stuck in traffic and that I should wait inside the restaurant. Then I dropped my phone and there was shooting."

Her words were purposely light and flippant. But she was pacing as she spoke. Unable to remain still.

She could hear him swearing at the traffic as he drove.

She knew how he drove when he was in this type of mood. The slightest thing she said could cause a calamity if she wasn't careful.

"Look Booth," she said as a Police Officer approached her. "I have to talk to the police now."

"Put me on the phone to them," he told her.

"Booth, no," she was shaking her head as if he could see her. "I will be fine." She declared before ending the call.

She could almost imagine the noise he made when he realised she was gone.

She hoped the other drivers on the road would be safe.

Her conversation with the officer was calm by comparison to Booth's interrogation. He took notes as she spoke. She explained her credentials and that her job could often create enemies. She explained her date, suddenly realising that she hadn't called David to explain all this mess. He would still be stuck in traffic.

The officer asked if she had any one who could come and collect her, if there was anywhere she could stay for the night, just at the moment that Booth came charging towards her. He was waving his FBI badge at the officers as he tore his way through the recently erected yellow tape.

A mixture of emotions in his expression, his gaze never leaving her until he was right in front of her and could be reassured of her safety.

He barged past the officer, reaching out to touch her, fingers carefully lifting her arm and drawing her attention to the fact that a bullet had skimmed her, tearing a path through her jacket.

"I'm fine," she shrugged him off.

Uncertain about his attention in front of the officer and gathering crowd.

But at the pained look which registered in his eyes she felt a surge of regret, repeating, "I'm fine." Her tone softer.

The officer was watching their interactions with interest and quickly released her on the condition that Booth kept her in his sights.

It was only then that she realised that Booth hadn't even shown the man his ID.

The officer had obviously put two and two together and made five as he seemed to have assumed that Booth was the date she had been waiting for.

But before she could protest she was in Booth's car, on her way to her apartment, with only his promise that he would send someone to collect her car later.

She wouldn't let him in when they got there and the tense standoff lasted longer than she wanted it too.

He gave in eventually when she told him she would stay home and keep her phone with her at all times.

It was only five minutes after he had finally consented to leave that the boredom overtook her promise to him and the cab was arriving on her doorstep to transport her to the Lab.

If someone wanted to kill her over bones she was damn well going to find out why.

000000

The others hovered.

Their anxiousness annoying.

She was fine.

She assessed the girl from the crime scene.

"Need enlargements of the super orbital notch." She asked Zack, who jumped startled at the command in her voice.

"Have you examined the dogs' excrement?" she continued to Hodgins ignoring her grad student's discomfort.

"I'm doing the faecal floatation now." Hodgins confirmed. "I don't get to say that a lot."

"Check for fibres the FBI might have missed as well." She continued, unable to listen to anything the others were saying beyond the facts.

Usually their chatter was dismissible.

Tonight it irritated.

"You've already told him, twice." Angela was using her calming voice. The one she liked to use to diffuse arguments. "Are you sure you don't want a drink?" That was the voice she used to tempt her.

No she didn't want a drink; she wanted everyone to act like they normally did and to get on with some work!

"You know it wouldn't be difficult for someone to encode a secure data strip, implant it on an ID card with a correct digitally encoded authentication data and sneak in here." Zack's paranoia set Hodgins off.

"That is possible." Hodgins murmured, his mind beginning to whir.

This was not helping this poor girl, or her own patience.

"Are you two going to help or not?" She nearly shouted, taking a twinge of satisfaction in the fact that both men jumped.

Angela remained unfazed as ever. "You know Booth's pissed that you came here. He had more questions for you at the scene."

Her head snapped up.

That wasn't true.

Booth had escorted her home. He had asked all the questions already.

That meant only one thing.

He had been checking up on her and when he hadn't found her at home he had called the first person he knew who could confirm she was here; Angela. Who had inadvertently said that yes, Brennan was here, at the Lab, working. And when asked why he wanted to know Booth had probably made up some excuse like needing to ask her more questions.

But she didn't understand what his problem was; it was safe at the Lab. Secure and guarded. Despite the paranoid twins latest theories.

She gave them a glare and both Hodgins and Zack skulked away to their stations.

And Booth knowing she was here meant only one thing.

Booth was not only pissed, as Angela had mentioned, he was also very likely on his way to the Jeffersonian right now.

Great.

"He just doesn't want to come here because he has to park in the structure." She dismissed, knowing that she'd hear his footfalls soon enough. "I need her face as quickly as you can."

She made sure that her request was politer this time, but her words were still clipped, before she crossed to inspect Zack's progress on the cleaning of the bones.

There was little of good to be seen.

"Zach these bullet holes haven't been cleaned."

He spluttered, "I worked on them for hours, Dr. Brennan."

"Then that wasn't long enough was it?" she shouted, her temper finally unravelled beyond her control.

Zack jumped, and behind him even Hodgins looked stunned at her uncharacteristic outburst.

Tonight was not going well.

"I'm sorry but… You take a sinus probe, you put a little cotton swab on the end of it." She demonstrated as she spoke, finding it easier to slip back into the safe realm of teacher, but her motions were jerky and short and blurringly rapid. "You dip it in water and you dab it inside the wound until it's clean. The Sistine Chapel took thirteen years to clean properly."

She moved away, distancing herself from her colleagues as she tried to reign in the turbulence she felt.

This was not normal.

To feel this way.

Almost unhinged.

Exhausted.

Hungry, even.

She had been shot at of course, but she'd been shot at before.

She heard Zack murmur, "I didn't think we had that kind of time."

He sounded upset still, and a little afraid of her and she was just about to lift her face from the microscope and apologise when Booth's voice cut clear across the Lab.

"Bones! What the hell are you doing?"

Angela was right, he was pissed, hell he was more than pissed.

She had duped him.

She stared hard into the microscope at the slide, feigning disinterest in his arrival.

But her heart rate had picked up again.

There was a nervousness in her bones.

"Working. Why does everyone find that so odd?"

She was fine. What was everyone so weird about?

It was no wonder she was jumpy the way they were all treating her.

"Why? Oh, I don't know. Why?" He got louder and louder, the more emotional he got. It was a very good tell for his heart rate. "Because maybe an hour ago someone tried to kill you."

She fought not to roll her eyes. He was so dramatic.

Swiping his card angrily through the reader, stomping his way up the stairs.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to continue to work these cases." He finished. His determination to get her to stop clear as crystal in his voice.

"This is what I do Booth." She told him, finally lifting her face from the microscope.

She was somehow able to not falter at the expression on his face.

Aware at closer proximity of the small creased around his eyes, which showed his distress, and a stab of something akin to guilt moved inside her.

He was worried about her.

She didn't know how to deal with that.

"Alright look, whoever killed these victims wants to make sure you don't finish your investigation."

He was attempting to change tactics now.

To coerce and charm her into submission. His dark eyes fixing her with a beseeching gaze.

She couldn't give in to that.

It would mean giving up on all she stood for in her quest to find victims truths.

"Hundreds of criminals would like me to stop what I do. Are you suggesting that I just give up my career?"

But she could fight him and his big emotions with rationality every step of the way.

"Just be reasonable."

She was being reasonable.

"Fine. Logic suggests that the shooter is involved in one of these cases so I should find out who killed them before he tries to shoot me again."

She stood as she spoke, matching him, in height and determination.

His jaw line was tight. He kept clenching his fists.

Like he was having to work so hard to control his temper with her as she purposely brushed past him to the computer.

"Did Forensics recover the bullets that were meant for me?" She asked, her voice unrealistically calm.

"Ballistics is running tests on them right now." He confirmed.

"And have you picked up the suspect in the young woman's murder?"

She heard the inflection of hardness in his voice that appeared at the mention of that man. He had put both hands in his pockets, clearly as an act of restraint.

"Hollings, I don't want to spook him until we have enough evidence but I've got guys watching him."

Of course he had. It wouldn't surprise her if he had some of his 'guys' watching her too.

"Did you get a list of missing women, aged eighteen to twenty…?" she asked, wracking her brain to make sure no piece of the evidentiary puzzle was missing.

"Eighteen to twenty-five, yes." He cut her off. "They are on your server. Bones, everyone is doing their job."

This was the only way she could handle this, these feelings that rioted inside her.

Anger, frustration, hurt, nervousness, fear that she might just break down and sob in the middle of her Lab if she slowed down even for a moment.

Everyone looked and sounded tired. And Tense.

Everyone was tense.

Was that her fault?

It seemed very likely it was.

"Okay," Angela said softly, walking up to the monitor.

She watched Angela wave Booth off with some kind of signal, and she wondered what her friend was thinking about her behaviour right now. She was acting like she was treading on broken glass around her, or egg shells, or whatever the saying was supposed to be.

"I will see if any of them match the victim." Angela appeased, pulling up a chair.

"Well what about the Romano family? Hodgins says they were feuding with the Cugini's." She asked, knowing that Hodgins' somehow knew a lot of theories about Mobsters.

She leant over Angela's shoulder watching her actions like a hawk.

"Kenton is pulling all the files on the case on all mob activity six years ago."

His tone changed, "Bones, there is one other person we have to look at, your date."

That got her attention and beside her she felt Angela's head turn quickly in Booth's direction.

She pretended it hadn't got to her. Continued examining the evidence on the screen.

It was a little unfair to call David her date, she hadn't even managed to meet him yet.

Or call him and let him know what had happened, she suddenly realised.

"Well I spoke with him, Booth." She turned her face to him, trying to show him how much of a waste of time this was going to be, in her expression and her tone. "He was in his car in traffic and why would he want to kill me?" She found herself asking the obvious question.

"Why would somebody want to kill your victim over there?" Came Booth's reply.

Damn him.

That was too logical for her to refute.

Angela picked right up on that too, and she shared a look with her.

One that admitted defeat.

"Look Bones, I know it's hard for you to admit you're wrong about something but I really don't care about your feelings right now, I'm more concerned with your life. So they're bringing your date in for interrogation, grab your coat."

He was treading a fine line now, actually bringing in her date for questioning had to cross that line, and his ordering her around again, that was way over the line.

"I'm working." She growled out. And still stating the obvious. She was glaring at the screen now.

"Bones!" His cry was one of unyielding frustration. "I'm not letting you out of my sight until I find out who is trying to kill you."

He sounded so earnest.

But the hand on his hip said no messing.

She looked to Angela for help and saw that her friend had definitely sided with Booth.

Great.

This was going to be the perfect story to tell people about how she met David.

To Be Continued...