Ughhh, so yes I knooowww it's been a week. I deserve all the punishment you think up at me. School's started, and we had guests from Cali over the weekend and we were doing tons of yard work, people! I know it's no excuse, but forgive me.

I haven't given up I SWEAR! I've seriously been busy and when I wasn't. . .Well I was watching Once Upon A Time. CAN YOU BLAME ME!? Season 2 is finally on Netflix, guys. Srsly, it's totes for reals. Anyway. Sorry, my bad. I swear I haven't forgotten. I promise. Love me.

For this one we go back in time. (Still trying to find those Season 7 stories.)

Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my ever-increasing shame. (See last chapter's beginning notes.)

After Borris

Takes place after Booth gets tackled in Blackout in the Blizzard.

She'd watched with amusement as the paramedics lifted "Borris" off of her partner. She laughed at the extreme amount of emotion – embarrassment, she'd identified – on his face as he was quickly ushered over to be checked. In the cold. In the snow. For hints of the virus. Wearing gloves or not, the virus was still completely viable to jump onto him, which only raised the cautionary procedures the paramedics took in carefully examining him.

Protocol of symptoms first, if the patient had any. Flashlight in the eye, report of light-headedness, tingling of the limbs, bloody nose, cough. He was forced to take off his jacket, trying his best not to shiver as they stuck a needle in him for a blood sample. Rolling up his sleeves further, they examined for spots or irregular paleness of skin. When the police and ambulance had arrived, Booth had been trapped under "Borris" for a little over ten minutes. Brennan was still wielding the plank of wood she'd used to knock the large man out cold on top of him. She hadn't wanted to waste any time picking it up had he ever decided to get up.

The new comers had approached her cautiously, confirming that she was the one who'd called earlier, and she'd dropped the wood without being asked, stepped to the side to let them do their work, and smirked. The CDC Paramedics, of course, wore their special suits for this type of work, lifting the burly man off her partner.

Brennan found it amusing. Even more so since the only thing she'd gotten asked was if she'd come into direct contact at all with the man. Once she said no, they were gone and away, busying themselves with the man and Booth. Fussing over their equipment all the while.

She stood aside from it all, glancing over the scene in the small alleyway. Though there were plenty of professional people doing the jobs they'd done a hundred times, she still looked over everything. Noting the smallest details of what they did.

One group of paramedics were setting up some tables with vials and needles filled with clear, see-through liquid. Those, she noted as she skillfully scanned her eyes over them, would be for when they went in to get the people who were inside the building.

Another group was of police officers, set apart from the ambulances, calling in information, devising the right to invade the shack and retrieve the people. She carefully noted how they all walked, their hands never too-far from their guns.

She stood with her hands in her pockets, off to the side, cold and her hat not providing much warmth for her ears and head anymore. But she had to stay; her partner had the car keys. She stood pretty much where she had been when Booth was toppled over by "Borris". She could only imagine how cold he must be, having been trapped awkwardly under the man's weight, far heavier than his own, for about ten minutes.

Her breath became easier to see as the temperature dropped and darkness filled the alley. The police and CDC workers lit electric lanterns that gave off a soft blue glow, illuminating the snowy-white rectangle they all occupied.

Brennan let out a sigh, growing impatient with the fact that she'd subconsciously chosen to stay in one place for so long. After all, the best way to get warm as to move around. But she chose to stay still, looking over everything and everyone with a trained, professional, skilled eye. Assuring no one messed up anything.

After she was sure they weren't going to mess up, she settled on watching Booth squirm under the metaphorical microscopes of the paramedics. He should just cooperate, she thought, not in the least bit happy with his choice of reaction to it all. They're checking to make sure he doesn't have a fatal virus! She couldn't shake the feeling that he probably wouldn't mind so much if she was over there with him to make sure everything was ship-shape. And that they weren't wasting his time, but she knew she would just be in the way.

He's an adult, he doesn't need anybody to hold his hand.

After what seemed like an hour, the five CDC paramedics around him dispersed and shut their supplies away in their large plastic cases. She sighed again, shivering all the way down to her pocket-covered hands and shoe-covered toes. She watched as Booth shrugged on his coat unhappily, walking over to her with something like impatient irritation in his step.

"Did they check you?" She asked him seriously, turning to him expectantly.

"Nooo, Bones. They just asked me how Parker was doing and if I had tickets to this weeks' game." He adjusted his jacket collar around his neck, flicking it and zipping it to mid-chest. He gave her an annoyed look.

"You're being sarcastic," she replied, almost sure she got his meaning. "I don't know why."

"I'm being bitter, Bones. I'm frustrated, okay? They just play-doughed me for the last twenty minutes." Booth gestured angrily behind him at the suited medics, a look in his eye that asked why the hell she didn't get it.

"I don't think I know what that means." She wondered why they were still standing there instead of heading home. It's been a long day. . .

He looked at her, disbelieving for a moment. Then suddenly he cracked a smile, letting out a splutter as he held back a laugh. It was contagious as Brennan, too, laughed for no reason. Simultaneously they moved toward each other, embracing. The hysteria around them about to get to a whole new level as they prepped to go in the building, finally.

It reminded Booth of the hug they shared when he'd first seen her out of his coma-state; fully recovered and back for duty. They'd both just smiled, then, and hugged. It was certainly a familiar feeling.

He smiled even bigger as he looked over her shoulder. "C'mon. Let's get outta here." They pulled away and Brennan looked around at the suddenly too-cluttered place, surprised they weren't ushering them out of the way.

"I agree," she smirked. "I think we're killing their style."

Booth chuckled. "Cramping, Bones. We're cramping their style."

"But cramping. . ." She stopped at his knowing smile. She sighed, but not exasperated. More of a good-natured way without words to let him know that she was amused.

"No, go ahead. Explain to me." He said, a gleam in his eye as they made their way past the blue light.

She looked at him skeptically. "I do not think I will."

"Are you sure?" He joked. He left her side and went to the front of the SUV. "I'm pretty dumb. I don't think I know the meaning of the word 'cramp'."

"Vous êtes très intelligent, Booth!" She said, meeting his eyes over the hood of the car.

"Huh?"

"Booth est très intelligent." She bragged, proud of her statement.

"What is that, German?"

"It's French, Booth." Brennan looked at him honestly, not knowing the twinkle in her eyes was present when she looked at him. "I said you are very smart. You are really intelligent."

He smiled. "Thanks, Bones."

"You're welcome, Booth."

Awww. Forgive me? No? NOT YET! Well poo on you guys, cause I have homework and this little snip-bit took me two hours. Now I'm hungry. I'm sorry. I might start writing another one later tonight and have it up in a couple hours.

And yes, this takes place before my previous story, Blackout in the Blizzard. Had I remembered I'd done this story, I would have made them a continuation bit. I'm sorry, I forgot, I suck. But I promise! This weekend I shall write, write, write! You have my word!