Disclaimer: See ch. 1

Spoilers: Through season 4, current episode

A/N: Thanks again to everyone who's read and reviewed, you guys are fantastic! Sorry for the wait, school's started back up again with a vengeance.

SUPER episode tonight! Although, I was really anticipating a bit more of a reunion between the two. Jared redeemed himself a bit in my eyes. Anyone else read this week's TV guide? The producer's revelation about the finale? Anyone else ready to emit an Angela-worthy squeal? Needless to say, I'm on tenterhooks awaiting the finale. Anyway, here's the next chapter.

He moved to her quickly and glanced over her shoulder. On the back of the photo in sharp, black writing were the words,

It's not nice to refuse me.

Bones' panicked eyes found his.

"What does it mean?"

He gritted his teeth and surveyed the lobby once more, squinting to see the darkening world beyond the glass doors.

"It means I'm calling in the cowboys, Bones. Somebody has gone too far."

"Why are we even here? It's just a goddamn picture."

Booth glared at the back of the young uniforms' heads and cleared his throat. The two young men turned to face him and their eyes widened. Booth placed his hand on his hip, right next to the FBI badge he'd clipped there a few minutes ago.

"Let's keep in mind that I could have both of your asses busted right back to the academy, you got me?"

They nodded quickly.

"This is a threat and it will be treated as such."

The one who'd spoken snapped quickly to attention. "Yes, sir."

His partner was hasty to agree. "Of course, sir."

"Good, now I want this place canvassed. Find anybody who saw anything. You got security cameras?" He asked the guy still looking a bit stunned behind the counter. "I want…"

"Excuse me, Agent Booth?"

Booth turned in time to see another uniform walk up. This one quite a few years older, his shirt bearing more bars, his face testifying far more experience.

"I'm Captain Westin. I'll be in charge here."

Booth's head was shaking before he could stop it. "Oh, no, I'm calling the shots on this one. This is my…"

"Is this not you in the picture, Agent Booth?" Captain Westin asked, holding up the picture in a clear evidence bag. "You're involved here. She's your partner, for crying out loud. You could be a target, too. I'll be heading this investigation."

"Listen here…"

"I'll include you in all aspects and I'll take anything you tell me seriously. But right now you need to take care of your partner and let me and my boys handle this."

At the captain's mention of Bones, Booth turned and searched the gathering crowd. Ah, there she was, standing back against the wall, a uniform in front of her, looking scared and unsure…and alone.

"Full participation," he said to the captain, his eyes barely moving from his partner.

"Full participation."

Booth nodded.

"Know that if I don't like the way this investigation is going, I won't hesitate to call my superiors and get this transferred over to the FBI."

He caught the captain's eyes briefly until the other man nodded.

"Until then, my boys and I'll handle it."

"Your prime suspect is going to be a professor Logan Hart," Booth told him quickly, noting the pink tinge quickly creeping up his partner's cheeks. Even from this far away, he could tell that she was getting mad. "He's an ex-boyfriend of Dr. Brennan's, he's been…persistent in trying to get her back."

The captain nodded and made a note.

"Seeing as this is a relatively small threat and you'll be with her all night, we'll go talk to him tomorrow. Give my guys time to look up some background and the lab guys start looking for DNA and prints on the photo and envelope."

"Sure," Booth said distractedly, his eyes still on Bones who had progressed to rolling her eyes. "I want to be there when you bring him in."

The captain smiled and nodded. "I'll give you a call in the morning."

"I appreciate it." Booth shook the captain's hand, then double-timed it to his partner's side.

"I've already told you, Mr. Hart is the only person I can think of who…"

Booth placed a hand on her back, stopping her midsentence.

"How you doin' there, Bones?"

"I'm fine, Booth, but this officer seems to think that the way to get people to reveal things to him is to keep asking them the same stupid questions until they get fed up and…"

"Ah, ah, ah." Booth smiled sympathetically at the uniform. "I've already spoken to your captain about Logan Hart. He's the only suspect we've got at this point. You done here?"

"Um,"—the guy looked quickly down at his notes—"Yeah, I think so."

"Great. Let's go, Bones."

He'd put Bones to bed half an hour ago when she'd started falling asleep on his shoulder. Not that he didn't want her there. Ho no, that wasn't it at all. In fact, he'd have been content to keep her there all night. It was just that she'd looked so uncomfortable like that, he was afraid she'd have a crick in her neck if he'd left her there any longer.

Now he couldn't sleep.

God, what if some creep snuck in the window and put a hand over her mouth? She'd never be able to scream.

He knew it was unlikely. Hart knew that he was staying here; he wouldn't risk it. And it if was someone else? Well…

Goddamn.

He stood and walked to her bedroom door. He tried to tell himself that he was being crazy, that she was fine, but it didn't help one bit. He needed to see her, to hear her breath. The thought of losing her…If he lost her…

The door opened with a soft creak and Booth slipped into the room.

She was there, zonked out completely, curled up on her side with her face to him.

He watched her. He drank her in. Her pale skin stood out in stark contrast against the cranberry sheets on the bed. Her auburn waves were spread haphazardly across the pillow. One smooth wave tickled her lower lip. Her breathing was slow and even, and as he stood there she let out a few soft snores.

He smiled to himself. He loved those snores. He'd told her about them in Vegas, but she hadn't believed him. Or rather, she'd denied it until her lips had turned blue.

He took a few more steps into the room and sank down silently on the chair at the desk.

He hated this. He hated when his partner, his Bones, was on the receiving end of some threat. His greatest nightmare, and it was a recurring one, was that he would be too slow, too weak, too late. One of these days, the threat-makers would carry through and he wouldn't be able to save her. He refused to think about it. She was his to protect and he would damn-well protect her.

She shifted a bit in her sleep and let out a muffled sigh.

She was so cute when she let down her guard. And he'd been noticing lately that she did that a lot…with him. With others, especially strangers, she still put on the front of the cold, uptight, scientist, but not with him. He'd spent years chipping away at her walls and he was finally able to climb over them with ease. He prayed to God it stayed that way.

She shifted once more and he heard her groan softly just before she said, "Booth?"

"Uh, yeah?"

She didn't seek him out in the darkness, didn't lift her head at all.

"Will ya jus get'ina bed?" She mumbled.

He froze. Had he misheard her? Was she still asleep, unaware of what she was saying? Had she just told him to get in the bed?

"Booth," she said in quiet exasperation, "if you must be here to assure yourself that I'm alive, you may as well just get into the bed and go to sleep."

Right. Well, when she put it like that.

He padded across the room and climbed in under the covers next to her.

"Better?" She asked, then without waiting for an answer, "Now, go to sleep."

Booth chuckled quietly, rolled to his other side, and fell asleep.

Temperance was much too warm when she awoke. And, God, were these blanket heavy.

She reached down to pull of them off and encountered an arm. At least, she thought it was an arm. It had a hand and…she traced it up the other way, turning onto her back in order to do so. Yes, a shoulder, and…

"Bones, when you're done groping me, maybe we could get some coffee?"

Her eyes flew open. Booth. It was Booth's arm and Booth's hand and Booth's shoulder and Booth's…well-formed chest, and…Booth was in bed with her.

"G-groping?" She stuttered, indignant. "You're the one with your arm around my waist."

He gave her a soft, tired grin framed by dark morning stubble.

"Yes, but my hand is stationary. See, no groping. You were groping me, copping a feel, examining the merchandise…"

"Merchandise?"

He shook his head silently, then pulled her close for a moment.

"I'm gonna go hop in the shower, Bones," he said, releasing her, "then I'll go get us breakfast. I want to stick around here today in case Captain Westin calls."

"Alright," she said, then watched as he left the room.

Had he been wearing only boxers when they'd gone to bed last night? Well, when she'd gone to bed. He had been sleeping on the couch, hadn't he? Then how had he… She had the sudden memory of telling him to just get in the bed.

He'd been sitting in that chair; she'd known it despite the fact that her eyes had been closed and the room had been dark. He had been fretting about something, of that she'd been sure. His scrutiny had wakened her and she had…

She groaned and rolled over, pulling the blankets with her.

They were two mature adults, it shouldn't matter that they'd shared a bed. Hell, they'd shared that bed in the mobile home when they were undercover at the circus looking for Julie and Jenny's killer. So why did it feel so different now? So forbidden, so…right. It had felt right to wake up in Booth's arms, damnit. That hadn't happened at the circus. They'd kept most determinedly to their own sides of the bed. Booth had been so flustered. He'd offered to sleep on the floor, but she'd insisted that they could share a bed. Not once had she woken up in his arms. She wondered what had changed.

"Alright, Bones," Booth began as soon as she'd stepped out of the bedroom dressed for the day. He had a breakfast sandwich in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. "Eat up your bagel there and we'll head off to the police station."

Temperance picked up her coffee from the kitchen table and took a sip. Exactly how she liked it. Funny, Booth was the only man who ever seemed to remember.

"They have Logan already?" She asked as she set about spreading vegetable cream cheese from a small tub onto her plain bagel.

"Mmhmm," he confirmed around a mouthful of what appeared to be egg, sausage and English muffin.

"Is that any good?" She asked, peering more closely at his sandwich.

"It's great, Bones. You want a bite?"
"You know I don't…"

"No, you don't eat meat. Never mind. I'll get you one tomorrow with no sausage."

Before she could answer, he'd taken her bagel, slapped it back together, wrapped it back in its wax paper and replaced it in her hand.

"You can eat that on the way," he told her. "I want to be there to watch the interrogation."

"Watch it?" She asked. She allowed him to lead her to the door, then stood back as he shut it and made sure it was locked. "I'd have thought you would want to be a part of it."

His hand at the small of her back was warm and comforting.

"I would, but Hart still thinks I'm your boyfriend. I want to see what he'll spill based on that."

"You're not going to tell him that you're my partner?"

They stepped into the elevator and Booth pressed the button for the garage before turning back to her.

"I thought I'd hold off on that."

She nodded. She wasn't really sure what Booth thought he might gain from continuing to allow Logan to think he was her boyfriend, but that was Booth's area of expertise so she kept her mouth shut. "Is Captain Westin aware of…"

"I filled him in, Bones. I'm not a rookie here, remember?"

"Of course, Booth. I know that."

"Great," he said as they stepped off the elevator into the attached parking garage. "We'll hang out, watch the interrogation, see if we catch anything the cops don't. If at some point I decide it would be best for Hart to know who I am, I'll step in and let him know."

She remained silent until they'd reached the SUV and he'd helped her in, though she insisted that he was being silly and she could certainly do it herself.

She couldn't help but think that this was the what…third time now that Booth would be interrogating one of her boyfriends, ex or otherwise. What was it with her and men? Why was it that every single one of them had either turned out to be some kind of criminal, some kind of weirdo, or some kind of jerk? Well, there had been Sully. But he had left her. Granted, he had asked her to accompany him, but really…they hadn't even been dating for a year. He hadn't really had a right to ask her to leave everything and follow him into the sunset. Did that mean she had no right to ask him to stay? Had she wanted him to? No. No, she hadn't. But still…he'd left her. Booth had said he'd never leave her. And there she was again, always back to Booth. It always came back to Booth. And with a start, she realized that none of the men she'd dated had been good enough, because inevitably she ended up comparing every single one of them…to Booth.

"Bones? Bones, you okay? Aren't you gonna eat your bagel? We're almost there, you know?"

She turned to see Booth watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm fine, Booth. Just thinking."

She peeled the wrap back from her bagel and took a bite.

"'Bout what?"
She blinked over at him, but his eyes were back on the road. "Nothing, really.

Just…things."

"Things, huh?"

"Things," she agreed. No way was she about to tell him that she'd just now discovered that he was the standard by which she measured all other men. No way. Because it couldn't possibly be true. No. It couldn't possibly.

A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to let me know what you thought!