A/N – I've posted two updates today, so please read Chapter 4 first if you haven't stumbled across it already! Thanks.
After finishing their respective meals, which weren't quite as unpalatable as they'd anticipated, the group gathered into a patchy circle around the campfire in a bid to instil some warmth into their rigid frames. Booth was still grinning at his partner's enthusiasm for the flameless ration heater included in her MRE. She had spent ten minutes explaining to him how the device worked and, although he'd reminded her that the instructions were clearly stated on the back of the heating pouch and basically involved adding water, Bones had insisted on subjecting him to a lecture on exothermic reactions and the oxidation of magnesium. Still, she'd sampled the cheese and vegetable omelette and the bean and rice burritos, so he couldn't complain. Now, freshly showered and clad in several layers of clean clothing, they were both leaning against an eroded rock face and gratefully absorbing the heat from the crackling fire, oblivious to the acrid scent of smoke surrounding them. The crescent moon was beaming down brightly on the clearing, illuminating their scenic surroundings, and the frost that had rapidly blanketed the frozen ground was glinting ethereally in the dappled silver light.
Bones looked genuinely enchanted by their surroundings and, with her strong features bathed in the soft hues of twilight, Booth couldn't help but notice how extraordinarily beautiful she was.
"It's so pretty," Brennan observed, a little breathlessly, and Booth let out an undignified snort.
"Pretty?" he echoed, unable to stop himself from breaking into a wide grin.
"What?" she demanded, glaring at him defiantly. "It is!"
"I know, Bones," he assured her, trying desperately hard not to laugh. "That was just a pretty girly thing for you to say, that's all."
"Very funny, Booth," Brennan said reproachfully. "Are you planning on dissecting my vocabulary for the rest of the night? Because, in case you hadn't noticed, I am a girl… although I resent the connotations of frivolity that the label implies."
"Believe me, Bones, I've noticed," Booth murmured softly, immediately regretting the ill-conceived words when Brennan glanced at him sharply, an odd expression on her face.
His heart began to beat at a rapidly accelerated rhythm when she opened her mouth to respond, but Simon once again saved him from the potential humiliation by standing up to garner the group's attention.
"I hate to play Mommy here, but I want to make sure that everyone has put their trash in the bag before Ross takes it over to the dumpster. Don't leave anything lying around, because this is bear country, and I'm sure as hell not Grizzly Adams, OK?"
Everyone laughed, with the exception of Brennan, who looked faintly bewildered.
"Grizzly Adams was a TV series back in the seventies, Bones," Booth hastened to explain, immediately understanding the reason behind his partner's uncomprehending expression. "It's about this guy who rescues an orphaned bear cub and raises it into adulthood, and the bear winds up being his best friend, even when it's big enough to tear him limb from limb. You know, kind of like Dian Fossey with the gorillas," he clarified, trying to link his anecdote to a reference he knew his partner would understand.
"Oh." Brennan nodded with a grateful smile, but it rapidly faded when her mind returned to the conversation she had overheard in the restroom earlier. "I'm… I'm sorry that you have to spend so much time explaining things to me Booth," she said softly, bowing her head, and Booth quickly closed the meagre distance between them, lightly bumping her shoulder.
"Bones, it's fine, it's not like I mind," he assured her, breaking into a rueful grin. "Besides, you do realise that you spend half your time translating squint speak for me, right? The whole explaining thing… well, it works both ways, Bones."
It was an objective assertion, and Brennan was surprised that she hadn't considered the issue from that perspective before. Her lips curved at the corners as she absorbed the truth in her partner's words. "I suppose you're right," she admitted, and Booth didn't fail to notice the tension seeping out of her starched posture.
"Now that isn't something I hear very often," he countered in a teasing tone, the muscles in his jaw twitching slightly when he recalled the last instance of Brennan willingly conceding defeat; namely when he was explaining the difference between crappy sex and making love.
Hoping that she couldn't read his thoughts, he glanced furtively in Bones' direction, only to find her staring back at him with that same indecipherable expression. Booth was somewhat taken aback when she blushed and promptly looked away.
"Bones… I…" He trailed off, wondering what the hell to say, and was marginally relieved when Jenny relieved him of the burden.
"OK, everyone, we've got another task lined up for you now," she informed them with her customary enthusiasm, holding out her hands to ward off their protests. "Don't worry, this one shouldn't be too traumatic - it's not about points, or prizes; it's about going back to your roots and remembering why you got involved with the FBI in the first place. So, working clockwise around the circle, I'd like each one of you to tell the group what your motivation was for joining the Bureau - or, in Dr Brennan's case, why she decided to work alongside them. Is that OK?" Jenny's cheeks were straining under the weight of her smile as she sought their approval. "Agent Stubbs, would you like to start?"
Dean looked marginally alarmed, and glanced around the group with a nervous smile. "Yeah... um… sure. I guess it's just something that was ingrained in me from an early age," he explained, shrugging. "My Dad was a Fed, and so was my Grandfather, and there was never any doubt that I would follow in their footsteps. They'd always try and outdo each other, you know, debating about who'd been involved in the biggest sting, and I used to sit and listen to these hyped-up stories about them catching bank robbers, and solving murders, and I used to think that they were the coolest guys on Earth. The crime-solving gene just runs in the family, I guess," he concluded, with a laugh that almost sounded bitter.
Jenny nodded, looking thoughtful, and then levelled a smile in Dean's direction. "That was very informative, Agent Stubbs. Thank you for sharing," she enthused, and Dean looked slightly non-plussed.
"Oh God," Booth groaned under his breath, and Brennan turned to regard him in surprise.
"What's wrong?" she whispered, and he shook his head ruefully.
"Nothing, Bones. It's just… this is going to wind up playing out like a GA meeting, that's all," he lamented, and seeing his partner's confused expression, he knew he was going to be forced to elaborate. "Gamblers Anonymous," he clarified, heaving a sigh. "Basically, everyone lays their soul bare and tells you why they're such a fuck-up – as if seeking solace in a roomful of losers is gonna make you feel better."
"You're not a fuck-up, Booth - or a loser," Brennan whispered fervently, knowing that her partner was probably loath to tell a group of strangers about his time in the Rangers.
Booth stared at her for a moment, his liquid brown eyes looking almost black in the flickering firelight, and then he smiled softly. "Thanks, Bones."
Brennan held his intense gaze for several seconds, reluctantly wrenching her eyes away when she realised that Otis Lewis was poised to begin his own speech.
The African-American Agent levelled a rueful grin in the group's general direction. "Well, hopeless cliché though it may be," he began, rolling his eyes, "I grew up in the underbelly of the Bronx, and I guess you could say that I had the full ghetto experience. You know - gangs, drug dealers, drive-by shootings…" He sighed, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "The Feds used to turn up at our school every other week, wanting all the gory details about the latest shooting, the latest rape, the latest shipment of crack. They'd do a half-assed job of wheedling information out of people, and then we'd never hear from them again - until the next time. I watched them walk away from the truth over and over again; but I knew the repercussions of opening my mouth, so I stayed silent and studied hard. It got to the stage where I wanted to do their jobs for them, you know?" he asked rhetorically, regarding the group intently with his warm, dark eyes, "I wanted to be the one that people could relate to, the one that people could trust, and I knew that - no matter how many obstacles they put in my path - I would break down every damn wall until I found out the truth." He laughed self-deprecatingly, shaking his head. "I guess I was an idealist back then."
The group were quiet for a moment, lost in thought, and Jenny reached out to lay a hand on Otis' forearm. "I'm sure you've made a difference to a lot of people's lives Agent Lewis, and I've no doubt that you'll continue to do so."
He regarded her dubiously at first, gauging her sincerity, but then his features gradually softened into an amiable smile. "Well, I'll try, Jenny. That's the best any of us can hope to do."
She nodded contemplatively, before gradually turning her attention to Mark. "Agent Simmons? What about you?"
Mark snorted wryly. "Now I feel obliged to say something profound," he joked, clapping Agent Lewis lightly on the shoulder. "But the truth is, this is just something I fell into. I had a couple of friends who dropped out of Quantico and I wanted to see if I could stick it out, that's all. I don't think this is my vocation or anything, but I guess it could be worse. I mean, I get a gun, and a nice set of wheels. I get to put the bad guys away, and chicks really dig that a lot. I just like people looking at me with a sense of respect, you know?"
"He's obviously living in a parallel universe," Sandra deadpanned, earning a glare from her partner and a round of laughter from everyone else.
Jenny visibly cringed. "Come on guys, you've all been doing so well. Let's just try and listen to each other and reserve judgement until later, OK?" she implored, her eyes rapidly settling on an oblivious Brennan. "Dr Brennan, tell us how you became involved in your field of speciality," she urged, offering the Anthropologist a supportive smile.
Brennan looked slightly panicked for a moment, but then she felt Booth's weight pressing reassuringly against her shoulder, and sucked in a calming breath. Many of these people already thought the worst of her, so it was irrational to fear the consequences of speaking the truth. "My parents… disappeared… when I was fifteen," she began haltingly, and Booth smiled at her softly, pride visibly shining in his empathetic eyes as she prepared to take a leap of faith and confide in a group of relative strangers.
"As you would expect, I spent a lot of time wondering what happened to them… why they left... where they'd gone… I didn't even know if they were still alive," Brennan informed them quietly, ducking her head to avoid their curious gazes. "As a teenager, I was preoccupied with envisaging the worst case scenarios, but I quickly realised that was a self-destructive mentality. Science taught me that agonising over the 'what ifs' was a futile, self-indulgent exercise – if I wanted answers, if I wanted to find out the truth, then I had to evaluate the evidence… I had to be objective." She paused, seeking out her partner's gaze and feeling slightly disconcerted upon discovering that Booth was staring at her even more avidly than everyone else.
Her eyes flitted nervously towards Alex and Teresa, and she was surprised to see that they were listening attentively, devoid of their habitually critical expressions. Brennan realised that her speech may have offered some justification for her somewhat unorthodox career choice, and perhaps she was refuting their assumption that she was some kind of freak.
"Forensic Anthropology seemed… like a natural segue way," she continued warily. "I had an intrinsic aptitude for the subject, and I found it fascinating. It appealed to my sense of justice, because I knew it would allow me to give names to people who had otherwise been forgotten. That was compounded when I spent several months identifying the victims of genocide in Guatemala, and I helped to ensure that the people responsible for the atrocities were brought to justice."
"That's amazing, Dr Brennan," Jenny gushed enthusiastically, noticing that everyone was spellbound by the Anthropologist's eloquence. "Now, can you tell us how you came to offer your services to the FBI?" the Guide ventured, looking hopeful.
"I…" Brennan hesitated, acutely aware of the attention she had garnered and the fact that she had been talking for significantly longer than everyone else. "I don't want to bore you," she mumbled, blushing slightly.
"Hey… you're not boring anyone, Bones," Booth reassured her, and there were several murmurs of assent. "See?" he whispered, regarding her with an affectionate smile.
"OK… well… I didn't want to work alongside the FBI – at least, not at first," Brennan informed them, her lips quirking slightly in amusement as everyone started to laugh. "I didn't offer my services, I was compelled to do so, and I felt like I was being loaned out on demand. But working with Booth has made me realise that my chosen profession has a lot more potential than I initially envisaged – he's helped me to see that I can help the living, as well as the dead." She glanced at her partner, her translucent eyes shimmering in the moonlight. "In Guatemala, people were slain alongside their loved ones, whole villages were ransacked and destroyed, and there was no one to claim the remains that I recovered. It made the experience even more disheartening," she noted wistfully, feeling a hand come to rest against the small of her back. "The cases that I work on with Booth are different. Nearly every victim has a family, and knowing that we have the capacity to give them the answers and provide them with the closure that I thought I'd never have myself... well, that's comparatively uplifting. Especially when we've compiled enough evidence to personally confront the person who caused them that pain and ensure that they're never able to hurt anyone else again."
"Wow. Isn't that inspiring, everyone?" Jenny exclaimed. "Dr Brennan readily admits that she wasn't very happy about working with Agent Booth at first, but clearly she was able to work through her issues and focus on the positive aspects of their partnership."
"Yeah, maybe you should take up motivational speaking as a sideline, Bones," Booth teased, poking his partner lightly in the ribs. "That was quite an impressive speech you gave there."
"Booth…" she protested, wriggling away from him, but she stopped abruptly when she felt her partner's hand come to rest against her thigh, the warmth of his palm effortlessly penetrating the thick fabric of her jeans.
"I'm serious, Temperance," he whispered earnestly, eyeing her with disconcerting intensity. "I wish that damn jury consultant could see you now. You have no idea how much I…I'm proud of you."
Brennan blushed, feeling her freezing cheeks suffuse with heat, and she ducked her head so her partner wouldn't be able to see the pleasure brimming in her azure eyes.
Both of them were oblivious to the fact that Teresa was discreetly observing every facet of their interaction.
"Oh my God, Alex. Look at them," she whispered, nudging her friend until Alex obligingly turned her head in the requisite direction. "That's what I meant earlier," she enthused, shaking her head in amusement, "They are completely and utterly besotted with each other. I hate to be the one to break it to you, Al, but you can't compete with true love."
"Mmm," Alex mumbled noncommittally, turning away to stare into the recesses of the fire.
Teresa misinterpreted her friend's melancholy expression. "Hey, if it's any consolation, I still don't think they're screwing. I mean, they're smart people… if they were in a relationship, they'd be making every effort to hide it, not feeling each other up in public. I don't think they even realise they're doing it," she noted with amusement. "My jaw pretty much hit the floor when Booth planted one on her, earlier." When Alex's expression remained utterly apathetic, she punched her lightly on the arm. "What the hell is wrong with you, Johnson?"
"Maybe she's realised the error of her ways after the good doctor gave her speech back there," Sandra noted pointedly, and Alex glanced at her sharply, shaking her head.
"What? No!" she exclaimed, forcing an incredulous laugh. "This task just sucks, that's all."
"Oh come on, it's not that bad," Teresa chided her, slapping Alex companionably on the thigh. "And besides, you're about to get an insight into lover boy's innermost thoughts, so that ought to cheer you up a bit." She gestured to Booth, who was poised to begin his own discourse, and bit her lip to keep from laughing when Alex's maudlin expression promptly evolved into one of rapt fascination.
"In the past, I've done some things that I'm not too proud of," Booth admitted, aware that his partner's gaze was fixed on him intently. "The people who I looked up to always told me that my actions were for the greater good, but there are… a lot of grey areas, and sometimes it's… it's hard to differentiate between right and wrong. I mean, we're all fighting for a cause, right? We all believe in something… but it got to the stage where I started to wonder whether my cause really was bigger and better than everyone else's." Booth sighed, painfully aware of the fact that he was talking in riddles.
"I felt like I'd taken a lot away from people, I guess, so I wanted to give something back. I wanted a job where I could make a difference; where I could go into the field knowing that I was going to hit the right target and help the right people." He sent a warm smile in his partner's direction. "And that's not a problem anymore, because I've got a partner who happens to be brilliant at giving me the facts - no frills attached. She never puts a slant on her findings or manipulates them for her own gain, and I'll never doubt her methods, either, because I've been privileged enough to see her – and her wacky team of squints - in action. We figure things out together, and knowing that we've made an informed decision… well, I guess it helps me to sleep at night," he concluded, shrugging slightly.
It took a long time for everyone's gaze to leave Booth and focus on Sergio, and Brennan waited until the group's attention was diverted elsewhere before leaning towards her partner.
"Booth… I'm sure you did the best you could with the facts you had," she whispered in the direct vicinity of her partner's ear, and Booth turned to appraise her sharply, wondering when she'd become so adept at reading between the lines.
"I was following other people's orders, Bones," he whispered back, shaking his head despairingly. "They were the ones who had the facts."
"Then it wasn't your decision, Booth, and the blame can't possibly lie on your shoulders."
"But don't you get it, Bones?" he asked, his hushed tone laced with anguish, "I was the one with the rifle in my hand, OK? I was the one who ultimately decided whether those people lived or died, and I had no right to make that decision - especially when there were innocent people involved." He sighed, swallowing the prominent lump in his throat. "I was always taught that God should be the only one making judgements of that magnitude."
"Well, I'm sure your God would appreciate the fact that you were only trying to do the right thing," she murmured, laying a hand on his forearm. "I've known you for four years Booth, and you… you always do the right thing."
Booth fleetingly rested his head against his partner's shoulder, squeezing her hand lightly before turning his attention to Alex, who was next in the spotlight.
"This should be good," he muttered sarcastically, and Brennan nodded, rolling her eyes.
The blonde Agent took a deep breath, exhaling audibly. "OK, so I had this friend who I met back in kindergarten and we pretty much grew up together. We were joined at the hip, at least until high school, and then we kind of went our separate ways. I got sucked into the popular crowd; she was more of the bookworm type, but we still hung out together every once in a while. She helped to keep me grounded, you know? I didn't have to put on an act in front of her; she knew the real me, warts and all." Alex paused for a moment, biting her lip to keep it from trembling.
"Anyhow, one day she disappeared. I remember searching the neighbourhood with my Dad – there was a massive manhunt, but the cops just couldn't seem to find her." She zoned out for a moment, playing with the zipper on her jacket. "Anyway, three weeks later, her body showed up in a dumpster truck. She'd been violated in pretty much every conceivable way, and it made me sick, because Mandy was just about the nicest girl you could ever hope to meet… and yeah, I know what you're all thinking, why the hell was she friends with me, right?" She laughed derisively, taking a moment to clear her throat.
"My Dad tried to stop me from reading the papers, but I walked past three newsstands on my way to school and found out all the gory details from there. I was so happy when they finally found the guy who did it. He had a whole host of priors, he'd already spent 15 years behind bars for a rape with the same MO, but I guess this time he figured he'd kill the girl to stop her from talking." She sucked in a ragged breath, smiling tremulously at Teresa when she gently squeezed her hand. "I begged my Dad to let me go to the trial, but it never happened, because the bastard got off on a technicality. The Feds had made some major fuck-ups when they were obtaining the – mostly circumstantial - evidence, and they never managed to get a confession out of the asshole, so he walked." She shook her head, her anger becoming increasingly apparent. "I didn't really understand at the time, but all I could think about was how that sick fuck was still out on the streets, waiting for some other poor girl to prey on. I told my Dad I wanted to do something to protect people from monsters like that and I guess, for once, I followed through."
Everyone was silent for a moment, visibly taken aback, and seeing their burgeoning expressions of sympathy, Booth's jaw visibly clenched. A tale of someone else's tragic demise wasn't going to vindicate Alex in his eyes – it didn't change the fact that she had maligned his partner for no justifiable reason. He turned to the blonde Agent, regarding her thoughtfully. "I'm sure your friend would be really proud if she could see you now, Alex," he said, his tone brimming with compassion, but when she turned to regard him, he quirked an eyebrow pointedly in her direction, his expression clearly conveying his true feelings.
The group was astounded when Alex's face visibly began to crumple. She sucked in a ragged breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob, and then promptly burst into tears, stumbling to her feet with her hand over her mouth. She fled in the direction of the nearest restroom, and Teresa, whose expression was furrowed with concern, hastily pursued her, leaving Jenny completely bewildered by the sudden change in atmosphere.
"Maybe we should finish this tomorrow," the Guide suggested tentatively, and it took less than a nanosecond for the Agents to offer their vehement assent.
"Booth, did you do that on purpose?" Brennan demanded, zipping up their tent and turning to appraise her partner in the murky torchlight. Booth affected a look of innocence.
"What?"
"You made her cry!" Brennan accused, her lips twitching slightly as she removed her coat, placing it along the border of the tent in the hope of retaining more warmth. They'd only been away from the campfire for a few minutes, and she was already shivering.
Booth followed her example and shed his own heavyweight jacket, his eyes widening slightly as his partner reached for her backpack and extracted a pair of fleece pyjamas.
"She had it coming, Bones," he stated flatly, moistening his suddenly dry lips as he watched Brennan shrugging her way out of her thick sweatshirt, causing the layers underneath to ride up and reveal the cute little dimples on her lower back. "You of all people should know that."
"I know that Alex is an exceptionally vindictive person, Booth, but it doesn't mean to say that we have to stoop to her level."
"I wasn't," he protested angrily. "I didn't know she was going to react like that. I just wanted to give her something to think about, that's all." He raised his eyebrows, snorting in surprise. "Bones, are you wearing thermal underwear?" he demanded, his entertainment momentarily overshadowing his arousal as Brennan stripped down to a tight fitting, but decidedly nondescript pair of grey long johns, which wouldn't have looked flattering on a supermodel.
"They're supposed to be practical, Booth, not alluring. They're an extremely effective way of retaining heat. You should try them some time," she informed him caustically.
"I'm not the one who's shivering," he retorted, regarding her sleeping bag distastefully. "That synthetic piece of crap isn't going to help, either," he observed, fingering the thin fabric worriedly. "I thought you were supposed to be a Scientist, Bones? Surely you should know that down sleeping bags are much warmer?"
"Yes, and they lose all of their redeeming features as soon as they get wet. Synthetic sleeping bags retain heat even when they're damp, so they're far more versatile in volatile weather."
"Do you see any rain, Bones?" Booth asked, pointing to the roof of their tent.
Brennan sighed, pulling on her pyjama pants and burrowing into her sleeping bag. "You're going to be much colder than me, Booth," she stated smugly, tugging on the edge of his double sleeping bag. "I bet you won't be grateful for the extra leg room when the cold is seeping in through the gaps. Sleeping bags are designed to be snug, not spacious," she informed him condescendingly, rolling her eyes. "If you knew anything about insulation you would have brought a single instead."
She reached for her backpack, pulling out a brush and running it unceremoniously through her knotted auburn hair. Booth watched her practised movements with an expression that did little to hide his enchantment, but he couldn't resist breaking into a grin when Brennan pulled a sleeping cap from the recesses of her pack, tugging it over her head until it covered the tips of her ears.
"Oh my God, it's Mary Ingalls," he exclaimed, and to his utmost surprise, Brennan started to laugh.
"It's not a Victorian bonnet, Booth," she informed him wryly, her laughter intensifying when she saw his shocked expression. "What? I've seen 'Little House on the Prairie' before!" she informed him, her eyes dancing with amusement.
"Praise the Lord, it's a miracle!" Booth announced, doing his best impression of a Southern Baptist as he attempted the complicated feat of removing his jeans within the confines of his sleeping bag.
"There's no need to be modest, Booth," Brennan informed him matter-of-factly, "I've seen you naked before, remember?"
"Jeez, Bones, do you think you could say that a little louder?" Booth reprimanded her sarcastically, placing his hand over his partner's mouth when he saw her take a breath. "I was joking!" he hissed, shaking his head despairingly.
"Alex and Teresa are already under the impression that our relationship transcends the boundaries of professionalism," Brennan informed him nonchalantly, and Booth's eyes widened in surprise.
"What?"
"They intimated in the restroom that they thought we might be…" she hesitated for a moment, "I believe the term they used was 'screwing,'" she said thoughtfully. "They suggested that you were head over shoes in love with me."
"Head over heels, Bones," Booth automatically corrected her, burying his face in his hands. "I'm head over heels in love with you," he clarified, his expression rapidly evolving into one of utter mortification. "I mean…not that I… I don't…"
"It's fine. You don't feel that way about me, Booth, I understand," Brennan assured him lightly, rolling onto her side so she was facing away from him. "Would you mind turning the torch off? I'd like to go to sleep now."
"Whoa, Bones, don't you want a night cap first?" Booth inquired, pulling the bottle of scotch out of the bag they'd stashed it in earlier. "It'll warm you up," he cajoled, cracking the cap and proffering the pungent liquid to his partner.
"I'm fine, thank you, Booth," Brennan informed him curtly, not making any effort to turn around.
Booth took a hearty swig of the scotch himself, hoping to find some Dutch courage. "Did it bother you, Bones?" he asked softly, and he watched his partner's shivering frame stiffen slightly.
"Did what bother me?"
"When Alex and Teresa made that assumption about us. Did it bother you?"
Brennan sighed loudly. "It would be inherently illogical for me to be affected by supposition that has no basis in reality, Booth." She glanced furtively at her partner, and was surprised to see disappointment register on his features.
"Yeah, sure," Booth mumbled noncommittally, fumbling around the floor of their tent until he located his torch. "Night Bones," he muttered wearily, jumping slightly when his partner's glacial hand enveloped his own, preventing him from flicking the switch.
"Maybe I will have some of that scotch after all," Brennan murmured, and he watched with amusement as her trembling hands struggled to retain their grip on the bottle.
"You'd better not be trying to get my sleeping bag wet on purpose, Bones," he teased, but then all traces of humour rapidly faded from his gaze. "You're really shaking," he noted with concern, and the fact that Brennan didn't refute his assumption led him to believe that she was probably freezing her ass off. "Swap sleeping bags with me," he commanded, shrugging his way out of his cosy cocoon and frowning when Bones shook her head stubbornly, pulling her own sleeping back tightly under her chin.
"I'm fine, Booth."
"Don't lie to me, Bones, because you're making a pretty crappy advertisement for the merits of thermal underwear right now," he informed her sardonically. "You're lips are turning blue."
"They are not," she countered petulantly, rolling her eyes.
"Don't be stubborn just to prove a point, Bones, or else you're going to wind up looking like a Popsicle in the morning. I don't think the flameless ration heaters come with a 'defrost' option."
Brennan snorted. "You're being ridiculously melodramatic, Booth. I'm sure everyone else is feeling the effects of the cold just as keenly."
"I don't give a damn about everyone else," he countered angrily. "Temperance, please," he implored, and she regarded him exasperatedly.
"Fine," she eventually conceded, heaving an aggrieved sigh and obligingly shedding her sleeping bag. She quickly clambered into Booth's, curling into a ball and relishing the lingering effects of her partner's body heat.
"Bones, where the hell did you buy this thing? In Guatemala?" Booth demanded after a moment's respite, "Because it sure as hell wasn't designed for these conditions."
Brennan snorted. "No, I bought it from a reputable store, but suffice it to say, I won't be shopping there again," she said in a rare attempt at humour, noticing her partner's less-than-amused expression. "Booth, you wanted to switch with me," she reminded him defensively. "In fact, it would be more accurate to say that you insisted."
Booth looked towards the heavens, silently praying for strength. "I know I did, Bones. Just… toss my jeans over, would you?"
"Why?" Brennan demanded, regarding him with amusement.
"Because I want to put them back on, Bones, why do you think?"
Brennan handed her partner his starched denim pants, and Booth was forced to worm his way out of her tight-fitting sleeping bag so he could don them again. He turned his back towards her, and Brennan noticed the goose flesh spreading over his bare, muscular legs with a twinge of concern. She took a moment to admire the sculpted definition of her partner's toned calves and quadriceps before he pulled on his jeans and hastily clambered back into the confines of his newly-acquired sleeping bag, and then she rapidly averted her gaze.
"Night Booth," she whispered, watching her partner retrieve his powerful torch from the floor of the tent.
"Goodnight, Bones," Booth responded softly, offering her a warm grin before plunging them into darkness.
Around forty minutes later, Brennan was roused from a fitful sleep by the muted sounds of her partner fumbling around aimlessly in the darkness. She heard a zipper tentatively engage, and realised that Booth was trying desperately hard not to wake her as he eased his backpack open, quietly searching for some unknown object. She waited for a couple of moments, and then removed her arm from the confines of Booth's sleeping bag, soundlessly groping along the floor of their tent until she successfully located the torch. She flicked it on without any warning, and Booth blinked up at her in surprise, clutching a pack of high-strength Ibuprofen and an extra pair of socks, which he hastily tried to conceal.
"Booth…" Brennan's forehead creased in concern as she adjusted to the comparative brightness, and she examined her partner's ashen pallor and drawn features worriedly.
"Just… don't, Bones," Booth beseeched her in a wary tone, "I'm fine." He removed two of the pills from their foil enclosure, draining the last of his water as he swallowed them simultaneously.
"But I – "
"Bones," he interjected in a measured tone. "I said I'm fine. Just go back to sleep."
Booth pulled on the extra pair of socks, barely concealing his wince, and he glanced at his partner sharply when she laid a hand on his shoulder.
"You were right, your sleeping bag is much warmer than mine," Brennan conceded ruefully, offering him a small smile, "And even if you won't admit it, the packet of analgesics in your hand clearly indicate that your feet are hurting because of the cold, Booth. So…" she took a deep breath, "You can either take your sleeping bag back, or… you can share it with me."
"What?" he demanded, his eyes widening in palpable shock. "No, Bones."
"Why?" she countered, regarding him in amusement. "It makes sense, Booth. In the absence of an external heat source, sharing body heat is the most effective means of regulating our internal temperature."
Booth shook his head adamantly. "No, OK? No, no, no, no, no."
"Fine." Brennan unzipped her partner's sleeping bag, tossing it aside unceremoniously. "Then we can both freeze."
"You're acting like a three year old, Bones," Booth informed her angrily, heaving a long-suffering sigh.
"Well, I'm not the one whose priggish Catholic sensibilities are stopping them from taking a logical course of action that will ultimately benefit the both of us."
"You do realise that it's going to be a tight squeeze, right?"
"That's kind of the point, Booth," Brennan countered wryly.
"OK, fine, but you'd better not kick my ass if I end up… hugging you in my sleep or something," Booth informed her, his grin markedly transforming his pained countenance as he observed his partner's shocked expression. "What? I'm a cuddly kind of guy, Bones."
Brennan rolled her eyes, her lips twitching almost imperceptibly at the corners. She regarded him intently for a moment, and then reached for the sleeping bag she had just discarded, effortlessly shimmying back into it. "I would like to get a modicum of sleep tonight, Booth, so can you please hurry up?"
Booth swallowed prominently, and then cast another brief glance towards the heavens, this time praying for self-restraint. He zipped up his backpack, crawling towards his partner and manoeuvring himself awkwardly into the sleeping bag. He allowed himself a moment to acknowledge the bliss of its comparative warmth, and then focussed all of his energy on ignoring Bones' tantalising proximity - which wasn't an easy feat, given that he was a hair's breadth away from touching her. The space was cramped, and there were a scant few inches between them, rendering Booth terrified of shifting position lest he end up pressed flush against his partner's slender physique. Picturing Bones clad in her unbecoming thermal underwear wasn't helping, not when he could practically feel her breath sweeping across his cheek.
"Booth, your elbow is digging into my ribs," Brennan informed him bluntly.
"Yeah, well you wanted to share, Bones, so deal with it," he countered abruptly. To his utter astonishment, Bones wrapped her fingers around his wrist, turning onto her side and positioning his arm so it was draped snugly around her waist.
"What are you doing?" he hissed, and Brennan stiffened slightly.
"Dealing with it," she retorted wryly, but then her tone noticeably faltered. "Are you… I mean… is this OK?"
"Yeah… it's OK," Booth responded softly, throwing caution to the wind and scooting a little closer to his partner when he felt a violent shiver course through her. "C'mere, Bones," he whispered, pulling her gently towards him until they were practically spooning. "Better?" he asked, and she nodded sleepily, resting her hand on top of his and interlinking their fingers to allay the cold.
"Mmm… s'nice and warm," Brennan murmured with uncharacteristic ineloquence, heaving a contented sigh.
"Yeah, it is," Booth readily agreed, a tender smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he nestled comfortably against his partner. A few moment's later, he closed his eyes, content in the knowledge that at least one of his dreams had come true.