Title: Breath

Author: Doc

Disclaimer: Not mine, but I think I could manage if they were. Also, the drug Xyrem is real, and the drug information is true for the most part. However, some creative license has been taken. To the manufacturers – I apologize.

Rating: T

Summary: A crime against Booth and Brennan forces them to face themselves.

Author's Note: Sorry it has been awhile since I updated (I've just spoiled ya'll in the past). Just two more chapters I think.

He could tell by the state of her desk that she had been at work for a while. The way the papers were scattered, and the folders no longer neatly stacked, he guessed she had been there for at least an hour. It was unholy the hours she worked, and here she was again on a Sunday morning no less. She tapped her pen to her lips, and glanced up, catching him leaning on her door frame.

"Hey."

She was no longer surprised when she would look up sometimes and find him there, his long frame casually propped against her doorway. Some days he was in a crisp suit, with a snappy tie and the omnipresent 'Cocky' belt buckle. Those days he looked young, eager to go out into the world, ever the conquering hero. Other days the suit was wrinkled, and the tie loose and limp, not even the belt buckle able to protect him from the horrors of his job. His face was lined then, and the years it had faced stretched before her gaze. On days like this one, he had shed the armor of the suit; stylishly faded jeans slung low and an inexplicable t-shirt stretching across his chest. He looked more real to her on days like this, more touchable, more like the everyman alter-ego instead of the super hero.

She shook off her thoughts as he spoke. "Mornin', Bones. What time did you get out of here last night?" He pushed away from the door frame and sat down in a chair facing her desk.

"Oh, not that late," she lied, flicking her gaze away.

He smiled at the lie; he knew she left well after midnight. He had taken Jack with him to Sid's to interview the staff, and saw her car when he dropped Hodgins back at the Jeffersonian. It had been a dead end, but after talking to Angela a few minutes earlier, his mood had greatly improved. Choosing not to push her about the hours she worked, he said, "At least we know now that we weren't the targets."

"Yeah, Angela is amazing. So… the drinks that were delivered to our table, table eight, were really for table eighteen on the other side of the bar? And the waitress didn't catch on because Sid told her all of our drinks were complimentary?"

"That's what it looks like to me. Angela also identified the two women seated at table eight, from Sid's bar orders and receipts," he glanced down at the folder he had opened on his knees, "Cindy Duggins and Lori Taylor. They were celebrating Ms. Taylor's recent promotion, so their drinks were all charged to Miss Duggins' credit card."

"Did you go by Angela's desk? She was working on getting a better printout from the video of the man that was hovering by the bar. I watched the video with her several times and it is clear he put something in the drinks, right before the waitress picked them up for delivery to the table."

"She flagged me down as I walked by. She said to tell her you owe her big, Jimmy Choo big, whatever that means," he said with a confused smile.

Brennan flipped her hair back from her face, and answered with a laugh, "Oh, I have to buy her a pair of designer shoes every time I make her work on Sundays, it's our arrangement."

"You have to bribe her to come in on Sundays?"

"Well, usually we're not in the Jimmy Choo price range, but apparently her demand increases when she works on Saturday night and then comes in on Sunday morning."

Booth just shook his head. He had been with Cam – a self-proclaimed shoe-obsessee – for long enough to know a tiny little bit about women's shoes. He had to hand it to Angela, she had good taste.

"Anyway, Angela gave me a name, James Carlton. Twenty-seven, last known address was Norfolk. Guess where he used to work, Bones?"

"For the Navy?"

"No, he was a pharmacy technician at Pathways Behavioral Sciences and Sleep Center."

"What is that?"

"Apparently an inpatient sleep sciences center. It's a facility for those that suffer severe sleep disorders such as narcolepsy."

She was already putting on her coat as she said, "We're going there right? To see if he had access to drugs such as Xyrem©?"

Booth was thankful for her exuberance as he laughed and said, "Yes ma'am. We're going there now."

The director of pharmacy had been a pain, but after speaking to the Center's risk management lawyers he was very cooperative. Brennan and Booth were fairly certain that James Carlton was the one spiking drinks that night at Sid's, since they learned of an official incident report that was filed the previous May. It was to report to the Virginia Board of Pharmacy the loss or theft of three one-hundred count bottles of Xyrem©. James Carlton was the number one suspect but had simply been let go by the Center, since there had been no concrete evidence. She and Booth were heading back from Norfolk, once they concluded their interview at the Center.

Brennan was mulling over the case, which looked close to being solved, as Booth ended his phone call.

"Was that Cullen?" she asked.

"It was." He didn't immediately elaborate, but she could tell from his tone the conversation had not gone well. His jaw was clinched in the familiar way that telegraphed his displeasure.

"And?"

"And he's not too thrilled we didn't hand this case over to the Virginia state police immediately. I convinced him we had to rule out the involvement of Gormagon first."

"What else?" She knew she wasn't as perceptive as Booth by a long shot, but she wasn't stupid either. Something else was bothering him, and the phone call lasted a lot longer than she had expected.

"He said we have to hand everything over first thing in the morning. Everything. All the evidence we have so far in this case. The state police will go over everything with a fine-toothed comb, and then pick up Carlton," he answered, still not looking over at her from the driver's side of the SUV.

She stared at him for a moment, before realization dawned. "Booth… the evidence from the …kit…"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, then spoke, "Cam told me you weren't going to keep the evidence if it was positive… you know… that you and I… You didn't have to protect me, Bones."

"It would have been to protect both of us, Booth. Our partnership could have been in jeopardy."

"Still, Bones. That's not you. You don't destroy evidence in a criminal investigation to protect anyone."

"Evidence that you and I had intercourse would not have been pertinent to this investigation, therefore it would have never been submitted. Neither would evidence to the contrary. Which is why it was destroyed."

It took him a minute to catch up with her, as he tried to propel his brain past the word 'intercourse'.

Finally he asked, "Are you telling me you and Cam destroyed everything? After it all tested negative?"

Looking at him as though he was slightly learning disabled, she repeated slowly, "Yes, Booth. That is what I'm telling you. Nothing from the rape exam was kept as evidence. That was for our personal knowledge only; Cam was aware of that from the start. I threw it in the medical waste incinerator myself."

"Bones…" he wasn't really sure what to say after that revelation. But he knew he needed to say something, to discuss with her the fact that they very nearly crossed a line that couldn't be uncrossed. Unwittingly, yes. And there was that nagging voice in his head telling him he had been upset not by the fact they may have crossed that line, but instead upset by the fact he didn't remember it.

He took a deep breath and tried again. "Bones, I just want to make sure that everything is okay between us. A lot has happened in the last forty-eight hours, and I don't want our partnership – or our friendship – to suffer because of it."

She tilted her head and regarded him silently for a moment before answering, "I think we'll be fine Booth. Let's just make sure we have the evidence to put this bastard away for good."

"There's my girl," he chuckled, before turning his eyes back to the road.

A/N: I realize this is turning into more of an implied B&B, or friendship fic than I had planned. The next chapter will be the last, and I hope everyone is not too terribly disappointed.