Her cry echoed eerily off the walls of the Jeffersonian. The world seemed to hold its breath as Tempe's feet moved with what felt like incredible slowness towards the tumbling form of special agent Seeley Booth.

He's already sick and he could break his neck or his back or get a concussion or – or-

Some part of her brain informed her that she wasn't thinking logically and that she shouldn't think non-logically because that might mean she'd become emotionally involved and she didn't want that… could afford to be hurt that way again, but Tempe didn't care. All she cared about was the man who had almost reached the foot of thesteps in his awkward, ungainly, gravity induced fall. Booth hit the floor with a sickening thud and lay still, too still.

No, no! He can't be! He's not... he's not…. Is he? Oh, gods! Brennan was down on her knees and searching for a pulse before she comprehended what she was doing. She sagged with relief as her fingers finally found a pulse on his neck. Tempe didn't realize that her hands were shaking uncontrollably; didn't notice that her heart was beating wildly, thundering in her ears. All that she knew was that he was alive… Suddenly, for no reason what-so-ever, Brennan felt furious with Booth. Why had he come to work in the first place? He was sick! Booth should have stayed home, then he wouldn't gotten noticeably worse, and ticked her off, making her leave in a hurry, causing him to chase after her, and finally causing him to faint on the stairs. Yes, she reasoned, it was all Booth's fault. He had scared her so badly….

Temperance glanced down at the prone figure again and all her anger was washed away just as quickly in a wave of concern. Booth still hadn't moved; was he alright? Was he concussed? There were red marks on Booth's face that promised to become bruises and, for some odd reason, the hair just above his forehead looked… wet. She reached out to touch it and found that his hair did indeed feel wet and slightly sticky, and her fingers came away red. Well, that wasn't good. She could almost hear Booth's response to that, "You do enjoy stating the blindingly obvious, don't you?"

She did hear Angela yell and drop her sketch pad and pencils; her world had narrowed down to one man on the floor and… that one man had just moved….

A/N: That was kinda short, I know, but it's late and I gotta go to bed and I promised myself I'd up date today. So, review, review, review! It is your reviews upon which I thrive!