C is for Cold

I'm impressed with the reviews on this! Keep it up guys! Sorry, no shout out this time. I ended up coming up with the word. The ones below are the ones you guys came up with. Great work! (think 'D')

Some other 'C' words : commitment, comfort, cold, clowns, curiosity, cozy, Christmas, crash, captive, captivity, couples' therapy, candy, cupcake, celebration, call, coffee, cadaver, Cam, coat, car, cell phone, casino, Cat and Mouse, cravings, clumsy, cranberry sauce.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Normally when one wakes, they are cocooned in a warm, fuzzy bundle of lovely sleepiness, wrapped snuggly in their quilt, or if they are lucky, the arms of a lover. Some even have a large, fluffy St. Bernard or something of the like to snuggle up with.

Temperance Brennan had none of this. She was jolted to consciousness quite rudely on that fateful, chilly Thursday morning. Opening one eye, she glanced around, hoping to discover the source of the cold draft that was buffeting her bare arms. She discovered it, directly above her.

The celling fan was rotating lazily, round and round and round. Groaning, she uncurled from her position on her side and rolled onto her back. Fully opening both eyes, she looked down. Now where the heck was that afore mentioned cocoon of warmth? She looked over the edge of the bed. Her quilt was on the floor. She must have kicked it off in her sleep. As to why the fan was on...

It had a mind of it's own. She refused to use the word 'haunted', as she didn't believe in ghosts, but when ever she needed the fan on it would simply start of it's own accord at the desired speed. This is what caused her to shoot it a nasty glare. Why was it all of a sudden uncooperative? Glancing at her cell phone on her night table for the time, she scrambled quickly out of bed and headed for the shower. She was already ½ an hour late. Thank you, fan, for the wake up call.

Turning on the water and jumping in the shower, Brennan did a little dance as the cold water chilled her though. After waiting a couple of minutes for it to warm up and only receiving frigid liquid, she soaped and rinsed faster than she ever thought possible. Shutting off the water, she hopped out and wrapped herself in a large fluffy towel, where shivered violently for a few moments before toweling off. Walking to the counter, she picked up the blow dryer, raised it above her head, and clicked 'high'. Nothing happened.

Growling, she smacked it a few times with the heel of her hand. Clicked again. Nothing happed. Clicked light switch. Nothing happened. Dam, power's out.

Running a brush through her wet, cold hair, she hurriedly dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. On her way to the kitchen, she grabbed the sweatshirt that was on the couch and pulled it over her head. A bit warmer, but not much. Reaching the kitchen, she realized that hot coffee wasn't possible with the power out, and settled for cold orange juice.

Grabbing her keys, she was almost out the door before she remembered her phone. Running into her bedroom, she snatched it off her night table and headed out again, sending a small wave to the now motionless fan. She made a note to dust it later for it's kindness as alarm clock.

In the car, sans hearer of course, Brennan shivered all the way to work. Upon arriving, she headed strait for the janitor.

Ten minutes later, she ambled into her office dejected and no warmer than before.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Was it just her? Was she the only one that was FREEZING? Brennan sat in her office, curled up on her couch, shivering. A blanket, sweatshirt and cup of hot coffee had done nothing to warm her vibrating nerves.

Cursing ice cubes, Klondikes and Antarctica, Brennan tugged the blanket tighter around herself and muttered threats to the janitor who had refused to up the heat in her office. He had made up some excuse about 'zoned heating' and explained that if he wanted to heat her office, he'd have to heat the whole floor. She had just restrained herself from shouting, "Who gives a dam about the rest of the floor? I'm freezing my ass off!"

The ringing of her cell phone and the sound of Booth's ring tone brought her out of her cold-induced coma. Hot Blooded was playing from the phone's speakers. Grumbling about how 'Hot Blooded' was the last thing she was, she answered the phone.

"Bones speaking."

"Since when do you answer the phone as 'Bones', Bones?" Came Booth's cheery voice.

"Since you programmed my phone to play Hot Blooded every time you call." She replied, her teeth chattering slightly.

"You were looking over some bones, I was bored. Hey, listen, I've got a body coming in for you. I'll be there in about ten minutes, ok?" Booth explained.

"Mmhmm. New case?"

"You bet. See ya in a few." He said, and was just about to snap the phone shut when she asked,

"Are you cold?"

"Cold?" He asked, confused.

"Yes, that's what I just said. Is it cold at the Hoover?"

"Uh, no...? Why?" Booth asked, still confused.

"Nothing, bye." Booth stared at the phone. She hung up on me!

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Booth strolled into the lab, clad in a t-shirt and jeans. He loved 'Casual Thursdays'. It gave everyone an excuse to get rid of those suits. Whistling happily, he tapped the file folder against his leg as he hopped up the steps to the platform. Glancing around, he saw Hodgins studying some dirt at his station, Zack looking at a body, and Brennan and Angela talking off to the side, sitting in rolling office chairs that looked like they had just been nabbed from some poor, unsuspecting cubicle worker. Angela was swinging back and forth happily chatting away. Brennan was curled in the chair, snuggled up in a large sweatshirt. With a jolt, Booth realized that it was his.

"Hey Bones, Ange. Nice sweatshirt, Bones." He teased with a grin. She glanced down at it, taking in the FBI written across the front.

She shrugged. "I'm cold. It was on my couch." Angela had her fist stuffed in her mouth, barely containing a squeal.

"And how did it end up there, Brennan? Something you aren't sharing?" Brennan shot her a glare.

"Booth comes over to my place to work on cases. I go to his. There's nothing going on. Where's my body?" Brennan asked in quick succession, turning to Booth and shivering slightly. She wasn't sure if it was from the cold or his intense stare.

"Right here, Bones." Booth said with a smirk, not breaking her gaze. He raised two fingers to his lips and letting out a shrill whistle. On cue, three men came around the corner carrying a body on a stretcher. "Bring it on up, boys!" The men brought the stretcher up and put it on the exam table, drawing Zack and Jack like moths to a flame.

Jack peeled back the tarp that covered the bones, and Brennan uncurled from her chair to hover over them. Almost as soon as she looked at the bones, she raised her eyes, finding Zack's just as shocked and full of pain as hers. Looking back, she asked him.

"Is this real? Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Zack nodded sadly, closing his eyes briefly, putting his heart in that box.

"What is it, Bones?" Booth asked curiously, moving so that he was behind her, peering over her shoulder. She leaned back into him for support.

While Booth saw a pile of Bones, Brennan immediately saw the pain. This person, girl to be exact, had been tortured. Horribly, horribly tortured. She now felt the cold seep into her soul. Laying her head back on his shoulder, she looked him in the eye sadly. "Do you know what drawing and quartering is?" Booth's eyes widened. "This girl was drawn and quartered." Glancing at the bug guy, she asked. "Hodgins, TOD?"

Squinting at the body, he picked up a small bug. "This little baby tells all. About a year ago." Hodgins placed it in a jar for further examination.

"Zack..."

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

It was their quickest case ever. An hour later, their suspect was in interrogation. An hour after that they had a confession to a witch obsession and murder. The rest of the squints had gone home, but Brennan sat shivering in a chair, staring at the bones of the poor girl who was accused of witch craft.

"I thought you went home." Booth said softly, coming up the steps behind her. He pulled a chair next to her and watched the emotions play across her face.

"How could someone do that?" She said weakly, her voice soft. Booth leaned over and rubbed her back soothingly.

"I don't know, Bones. But we got him." Sniffing, she turned into his arms and let herself fall into his embrace.

"Shhh." He soothed, cradling her in his lap. "It's ok, Bones. I'm here." He stayed that way until she calmed down, and fell asleep.

And for the first time all day, she felt warm.