Title: What You Have is Faith
Author: Unknownsoldier42
Rating: T
Summary: "Aliens in a Spaceship" The panic that set in was like nothing she'd ever experienced before, all the times she'd faced down death, none of them had ever been like this
Disclaimer: Own not. Profit not. Sue not.


In her lifetime she had seen and experienced more than most - things that the average person couldn't fathom. The sorts of things that you would never hear about, read about, or see on the television. She was no stranger standing on death's doorstep, but it had never been like this before, the all consuming panic was new as the pitch black and coal-rich soil pressed all around, smothering her. She was utterly helpless, wanting to scream but couldn't waste the air. It was like drowning, except that if she was drowning she'd be able to see. Water was clear, you could see the sky; there was no glimmering surface here, only black, suffocating, gritty… black. As she clawed her way in the direction her body told her was up she kept hearing Hodgins in her head, over and over. What you have is faith, baby. It echoed and made the terror build to nauseating levels.

The pressure in her chest was getting worse; her lungs were burning and screaming for a breath of air. The letter to him was in her pocket, safe against her hip. He shouldn't find it on her corpse; she didn't want him to read it at all. She wanted to tell him herself. What you have is faith, baby. He was her partner he was going to find her, save her, because he always did. That's what he did. Jack was wrong it wasn't faith; it was something different, stronger, much stronger than that. She didn't know what it was, but it wasn't faith.

Something closed around her wrist and warmth shot through her. She knew who it was, not because of faith or belief, only because it could only be him. He pulled so hard her shoulder dislocated with an agonizing pop. Heat seared through her arm, she didn't care, as her head broke through the surface and her first intake of air in too long burned down her trachea and made her lungs ache. It didn't matter. Her eyes caught his for the briefest of seconds and she was safe, it was okay. He found her. He always did.

What you have is faith, baby.


Like the starting gun at a race a plume of smoke erupted from the soil and Booth immediately leapt forward, practically throwing himself down the steep quarry. The gravel pulled at his feet with each lunging step as gravity tugged him forward, downward, faster, threatening to topple him. He hit the bottom at a full sprint, eyes locked on to where that little burst of white had broken through. Dropping to his knees in his designer suit he dug into the harsh soil with his fingers, completely ignoring the sting of his flesh tearing. Her name was caught in his throat, choking him, and threatening to spill out with the tears that were blurring his vision. He wanted to scream it until his voice gave out or until she answered him. He needed to hear her answer him. Then a hand appeared, and a wrist. It's her. It's her! Look that's the watch you got her!

"Bones," her name slipped free from the tight confines of his throat. Gripping her wrist hard he pulled with all his might. "Bones!"

The dam was broken he repeated her name over and over, more panicked now that they were so close. She was so close to being safe. Her slender fingers were weakly holding onto him as he hauled her from the sucking pit of Earth. Her face and shoulders came up, covered in grime. Gasping and choking she drew in deep, painful, breaths. Even underneath all the dirt he could see a bluish tint to her skin and lips. Shockingly bloodshot eyes connected with his, pain evident, as she now pulled in shallow swallows of air, like a fish dying on land. He crawled over her, bodily heaving her free from the hellhole. Her fingers were clutching his shoulders, holding on for her life, as he hovered over her. Not good, blue lips, blue skin, hypoxia? Jesus, God, don't take her from me! Not good. Feeling panic crawl over him like millions of insects he tilted her head back, cradling her chin in both hands and encouraged her to breathe for him.

He was vaguely aware that the others had followed him and pried Hodgins free. Booth turned and saw Angela kissing the bloodied entomologist and Zach sitting close like a worried puppy. Cam stood over all of them, shock clear on her features. He knew what she was going through, it was her first real 'incident' with the squint squad and he still had nightmares about his first. Bones was tugging at his shirt and wheezing his name, asking for his attention. Talking is a good sign, relief flooded him. Bending down he hugged her, knowing he'd come close this time, so close. When he lowered her back to the ground that had nearly claimed her life he saw a sliver of quicksilver blue peeking up at him. The contrast between the bright, moist, color of her eyes and the dark muck on her face was breathtaking. He ran his thumb over her mouth, clearing the filth away. Tears were slipping down her cheeks and leaving little trails behind when he tried to brush them away and clean her face it only made things worse, so he gave up and instead bent again to press his lips against her forehead. She was smiling and looking up at him curiously when he lifted up, causing his heart to lurch painfully. Before he could stop himself he was laughing, overjoyed to see that smile again. Absolutely filthy she was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"You found me," she rasped, her voice a bare whisper he had to lean down to hear. Surprised at the comment he grabbed her hand and clutched it tight against his sternum.

"Of course I did, I will always find you," he promised them both.

"You always do," she closed her eyes, "'m tired Booth."

Tearing his eyes away from her he looked up to see where the paramedics were and saw a couple ambulances speeding towards them, kicking up dust and fishtailing through the gravel.

"The paramedics are coming for you Bones; do you think you could sit up for me?"

"I don't want to," she slurred with a frown, "I don't want to go to the hospital."

"You were tasered, kidnapped, buried alive, oxygen deprived and I just pulled you out of what was supposed to be your grave. You're going." He said it firmly, hoping she'd listen to reason, just this once.

You almost died you stubborn, wonderful, woman he thought as he smoothed his fingers against her down turned lips. He lifted her like you would an infant, a hand under her shoulders, the other supporting her head, and let her rest against his chest.

"I hate hospitals," she grumped, little fingers knotting in his shirt. He snorted and set his cheek against her forehead.

"Considering the amount of time we've both spent in them I can understand," he stroked his palm over her hair and held her even closer, her breath warm against his throat. "What if I ride in the ambulance with you?"

She coughed a laugh, "'s that s'posed to be a bribe?"

He nodded, "maybe, is it working?"

Her silence made him uncomfortable so he craned his neck to see her face.

"Okay," her voice was soft, a raw whisper that sounded like it hurt. "If you'll come with me I'll go."

The medical teams approached at a brisk trot, with stretchers between them. They took her away from him and laid her out on one of the stretchers. She winced when they slipped the mask over her mouth, while he stood there staring at her feeling completely useless until she reached a hand out to him. The paramedics were talking to her and pawing at her, asking her questions. He held her hand and took note of how small and delicate she really was, pleased to also notice that her grip was strong as ever.

She was going to be okay.


Thirteen hours. That was how long she'd been in that godforsaken car. Thirteen terrifying hours.

Temperance shuddered under the stinging spray of the shower, her powerful mind pulling apart the experience in terrible detail. The water swirled an ugly grayish-brown at her feet. Coal rich soil. She was coated in a thin layer of the stuff and as she watched the water peel it from her skin she wondered if she would ever get it completely off of her body.

It felt like a hallucination, to be standing there, washing her hair on autopilot, in her home and not gasping her last puff of air in the front seat of that damn car.

Booth would tell her it wasn't really the car's fault and she shouldn't be blaming an inanimate object. She hated that car and didn't really care at the moment if it was irrational. Maybe they could dig up the fucking thing so she could tear it apart and light it on fire.

Thirteen hours.

And finally on the heels of that thought did Temperance finally allow herself to give into the overwhelming emotions.

She barked a sob and let her body lean against the chilly wall of the shower, shaking hard as she slumped. Glad for the coolness of the tile against her heated skin she turned her face into the surface. The terror came up from the deep like every horror villain with a glint in their malicious eyes. She cried until she was hyperventilating, until she thought she might throw up with the intensity of it. Her arms came up to hug her wracking, heaving body, trying to hold herself together. Her stomach clenched hard as a particularly violent tremble worked its way across her. Not able to stop herself she retched once, twice, and completely drained let her knees buckle and collapsed on the floor, jerking in pain as the water came into contact with the burn on her neck.

A pounding on the door startled her so bad she smacked her head against the stall.

"Bones?"

Temperance let loose the fright with the breath she'd been holding in a loudly sobbed and strangled laugh.

"Bones?" Booth's voice sounded more anxious in response to her involuntary exclamation. The door knob rattled as he tried to gain entry. "Bones!"

"I'm alright," she shakily replied and uncurled herself from the floor. Feeling raw and a little light headed she turned off the water and gently wiped away the moisture on her face.

"Jesus, why didn't you answer? I was about to kick the door in and embarrass both of us." His tone belied any annoyance she picked up in his choice of words. She could hear the tender smile in it.

"I'm not embarrassed to be naked Booth, or be seen that way; however I would have been very angry if you had broken my door." She stepped from the glass enclosed stall carefully, a smile threatening as she shook her head.

He didn't answer for a moment and she wondered if he was blushing or just trying to think of a witty response.

"I'm just worried about you, okay? You can't blame a guy for that. Dinner's ready whenever you are."

She blinked in surprise, expecting a snarky answer only to get 'dinner's ready'? Warmth settled in her belly as she thought of how attentive he'd been since prying her free from the clutches of that stupid car. He hadn't left her side until she'd quietly asked to take a shower. Normally she'd be irritated with his alpha-male over protective and possessive tendencies. Now she was so unbelievably grateful to have him here it scared her a little.

These emotions were very new and she wasn't sure what to do with them quite yet. As she looked at her self in the mirror she silently promised herself to think very hard about the developments between them in the last few months and see if she couldn't come to her own conclusion.


Booth tried not to stare at her when she stepped from her room in a pair of well worn purple college sweat pants, the gold lettering indiscernible with wear and a t-shirt bearing the Canadian flag across the chest. The obviously well-loved clothing clung to her, dark spots marking where her wet hair and skin pressed or dripped onto the cotton. Her hair hung around her face, dark and slightly curled, tendrils stuck against her neck and cheek. She held his gaze while he continued to stare at her like an idiot. There was a red tint to her nose, mouth, and still watery eyes. The icy blues were huge in her well scrubbed face, still bloodshot and even more vibrant against the red surrounding them. Didn't take a genius to figure out she'd been crying and was probably exhausted.

They stood in silence until she looked away, back at her bare feet, hunching her shoulders slightly, like she was trying to make herself smaller, and then lifted her right arm to bring his attention to the tube of antiseptic resting in her palm.

"Could you help me please? I need to re-bandage my neck and it will be easier to have you do it."

He realized with a jolt what it was she was asking him to do, what she was going to show him.

"Yeah, sure thing Bones," he said and smiled as reassuringly as he could manage. A corner of her mouth twitched in what he felt was a good sign. He reached for and took the Neosporin from her. She handed him the bandage she'd been holding in her left hand before turning her back on him and shifting her hair to expose her neck. He swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat at the angry burn marring her porcelain skin. When I find the bastard that did this… he thought darkly and squeezed some ointment onto his fingers. "Bones," he hesitated, gel covered digits hovering just above her skin. "This is going to hurt."

Booth watched her body tense, could see it in the set of her shoulders and the stiffness of her stance. She knew it would hurt, of course, and she wanted him to see this and do this for her anyway. He was grateful that she was letting him in so much, but the idea of her being in pain made him wish she hadn't.

Her head bobbed in a short nod, "I know."

He stepped in closer to her, until when she inhaled deep enough her back met his chest, and let his hand drop to her skin. Her breath hissed out through her teeth as he tried to gently and quickly smooth the Neosporin over the wound.

"Sorry," he said, wincing along with her sympathetically.

"Just do it quickly," she growled, head falling forward a bit to offer him better access.

He couldn't help but notice, standing as close as he was, just how amazing she smelled. The usual Bones scent but with a 'shower fresh' hint that made her truly intoxicating. He pulled his hand away from her soft skin and placed the bandage over the burned area.

"All done," he murmured with a firm squeeze to her shoulders. She turned around, standing so tantalizingly close that her nose bumped against his collar bone, and looked up at him.

"Thank you," she breathed, eyes flickering to his mouth for just a split second.

"No problem."

The moment stretched and unable to resist anymore Booth lifted his hand to touch her again. He ran his fingers along her prominent cheekbone, pushing her wet hair behind her ear and she smiled, just enough to ease his mind.

He acknowledged the end of one of their 'indescribable' moments and took a reluctant step away from her. Clearing his throat he jerked his thumb towards her living room.

"How does dinner and a movie sound?" He asked lightly.

"I am kind of hungry," she admitted and peered around him at the stove. "What did you make? It smells good."

He grinned and made the 'shoo' gesture at her before pointing again in the direction of the couch. "I made my famous potato soup. It's a Booth Family recipe."

Her forehead wrinkled as she allowed him to usher her away from her kitchen. "You have a famous soup? Why haven't I heard of it?"

"It's a – Never mind, go sit down Bones, I'll be right there." He rolled his eyes and gave her a final gentle shove.

When he stepped out of the kitchen a minute later, bowls of soup in hand, she was curled up against an armrest studying the DVD case he'd brought. Booth stopped right next to her and met her quizzical look with a raised eyebrow.

"Mr. and Mrs. Smith?" She questioned and shook the case at him. He grinned and handed her a bowl.

"Absolutely, one of my favorite movies of all time. Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt play assassins working for different companies who married each other without knowing the other is an assassin," he snatched the case away from her and slipped the disc in before flopping onto the couch beside her, earning a glare as he jostled her soup. While navigating the movie menu he felt her staring at his head so he looked over at her to find an incommunicable look on her face. "What?"

"Nothing," she shook her head and snuggled even deeper into the cushions. Lifting a spoonful of her dinner to her mouth she eyeballed him warily before slipping the spoon past her lips. He watched her closely, anxious for her reaction and didn't have to wait long.

"Booth," she exclaimed, "This is very good."

"I told you so," he boasted beaming at her proudly and took another bite of his own making a big show of it, groaning his appreciation of the rich taste.

They lapsed into silence, somehow managing to creep closer to each other as time ticked by. Booth had clicked the lights off earlier so the only illumination came from the flickering images on the television screen.

The on-screen/off screen couple of Angie and Brad were driving their mini-van and shooting up the freeway by the time Booth noticed that his partner had fallen asleep. He glanced down and found that her head had fallen onto his shoulder and she was practically molded against his side. He'd lifted his arm and settled it against the back of the couch early on but couldn't remember when her head had come to be where it was. Watching her sleep for a moment he felt the tug in his chest he'd grown accustomed to. What's it going to take man? His mind whispered. Temperance shifted lightly, a shoulder and her breasts pressing more firmly into his ribs while a hand snaked its way across his stomach which was doing flipflops in response to her cuddling. Jesus, Seeley, what the fuck is wrong with you? Since when are you a coward? He paused, just a moment, before letting his arm come down from the ridge of the couch to lie against her back and his hand to hold her waist. His thumb soothed circles against her belly, it's not me, he told himself firmly, she's not ready yet.

Booth finished the movie, letting her sleep against him, so warm and supple it made him want to get on his knees and thank God for creating such an amazing creature. Then he sat there, the credits rolling on the screen and asked himself what now?

She was completely unconscious, of that he was sure, even snoring a little. He didn't want to wake her, not after the day she'd had. In fact he was glad she was sleeping at all and not fighting off night terrors about dying in that car. He didn't want to leave her on the couch though, it couldn't be as comfortable as her bed and after her day, after their day, she deserved to sleep in her bed. So he picked her up, unsurprised by how light she was, cradled her close and walked back to her bedroom.

As small as she was, she wasn't like Parker where he could shift her to a one arm grip and slide the blankets back before slipping her in. He faltered, holding her limp body safe in his arms and stared down at her bed like he'd never seen one before. Her breath puffed out against his neck, moist and hot, as she slept on, oblivious to his uncertainty. Unable to think of a better way he set her down on the foot of the bed and yanked back the blankets. He gathered her up again, amazed now that she slept through the whole process and laid her down on the cool sheets. She mumbled as her head sank into the pillow, then immediately turned her body onto her side with a sigh, curling into a ball of Temperance. He pulled the comforter up to her shoulder and watched her breathe with her face half buried in her pillow.

Reaching across her he picked up another one of her pillows and dropped in to the floor at her bedside. He eased himself down after it as stealthily as he could with creaking knees and a loud pop of his back. Christ I'm getting old, he grimaced. The rug was itchy beneath him but the pillow smelt like her, making up for it. He closed his eyes and inhaled another lungful of eau de Bones. He fell asleep with his nose shoved against the forgiving lump and dreamt he was holding her instead of her pillow.


Temperance startled awake, jerking up to squint into the sunshine spilling through her window. She recognized her bed, what confused her was how she got there. The last thing she could remember was being on the couch with Booth and… Oh. Her day came rushing back like a horror movie montage. Oh God. She dropped back to her bed, exhausted all over again and twisted to lie on her back. Karate, car, buried alive, Booth, warm soup, assassin couple? Buried alive, buried alive, buried alive. Clasping a hand against her eyes she sighed heavily through her nose. Buried alive. She snorted a laugh at the absurdity of it all, it sounded like the plotline of a cheap popcorn novel.

Feeling eyes on her and knowing exactly who it was Temperance rolled to meet his gaze. She tucked a fist under her chin and allowed her body to resettle comfortably into the mattress. Booth stared at her from his position on the floor, still wearing the jeans and t-shirt he'd changed into yesterday after he'd brought her home. She nuzzled her head back into her pillow and murmured a "Hey," down to him.

"Hey," he whispered back.

"Why are you on the floor?" She asked amusedly, an eyebrow arching for effect. She already knew, of course, she knew him and he was always the gentleman, but she wanted to hear him say it.

He smiled and she could swear her heart skipped a beat. How cliché of you Temperance, she scolded herself with an internal eye roll.

"I wanted to be here in case you woke up during the night. I've been through my share of traumatic events, it's always better to have someone…" He tapered off and his sincerity made her eyes well. Is that an offer to be my 'someone'?

"Thank you," she husked.

He shrugged a shoulder, "You're welcome."

"You shouldn't sleep on the floor, you'll hurt your back," she gushed suddenly, before her mind could catch up with her and scooted back, making space for him, mumbling about vertebrae, disks, and alignment.

Booth stood stiffly, joints crackling loudly, usually neat hair plastered endearingly against his head and pillow still clutched to his body. His body language said 'you sure?' without him having to speak. So she smiled, nodded, and patted the bed to invite him up.

He lifted the blankets, heat escaping and cool air lapping against her sleep warmed body. Crawling in quickly his body heat filled the void, the contrast making her shudder. He slipped his palm under her head and replaced the stolen pillow, laying her head back down on it gently before retrieving his hand.

"When you're ready," he broke the easy silence, "There's somewhere I want to take you today."

She shook her head fondly, hair spilling across her face, and smiled indulgently.

"Where?"

He pushed her hair back, lingered there momentarily, then drew back and tapped her on the nose with one long finger.

"It's a surprise," he baited and laughed quietly when she groaned.

More than a little disappointed she sat up blankets falling off her shoulders; he reached out and caught her shoulder, pulling her back down with a shake of his head. They stared at each other, his arm stretched across her, fingers warmly holding her. He smiled awkwardly, let her go and almost shyly bunched his pillow up.

"Wait Bones, we've got all the time in the world, go back to sleep," he adjusted his head on the wad of pillow. Her stomach did a lazy little flip at his tussled appearance.

She smiled and felt a blush creep up her cheeks, knew he was waiting for her retort and decided to surprise him. Turning her face into the pillow and shifting to get more comfortable she closed her eyes and with no argument went back to sleep.


END