Vigilante Justice

Author's Note: Thank you for the encouragement readers! Since I ALMOST feel bad for leaving you on the cliff, here's the next chapter, short and quick-like… more to come!

Chapter 8: Close Call

Andrew Carson was ready for the feisty doctor this time. With the cold barrel of a handgun pressed against her skull, he moved carefully around to her side and clamped a damp cloth over her nose and mouth with an iron grip. Her struggle against the horrible odor was brief; within seconds, she collapsed in his arms. Her cell phone fell out of her coat pocket and onto the sidewalk with a clatter. Carson almost dropped his burden at the sound. Scooping up her phone, he tossed it into the small square of grass next to the curb.

With a grim smile he hooked his arms under her shoulders and dragged her into the dark alley. The alley opened up onto the street around the corner from Booth's, where Carson had parked his car. Breathing hard with exertion, the man looked cautiously in either direction before heaving Bones up onto his back with a loud grunt. He jogged the last few yards to his waiting vehicle. There he shoved her inert form into the back seat with considerable difficulty. After slamming the car door he leaned against it while he caught his breath. He turned his face so the light from the nearby bar wouldn't illuminate his features.

He didn't have a complicated plan. After being forced out of his job he was so mad he'd decided to wait for Agent Seeley Booth to come home, somehow subdue him with a rag soaked in ether, abduct and take him to a remote area and kill him. The plan got a lot better when Temperance Brennan fell into his trap instead. If he was going down, he was going to cause Max Keenan as much pain as he possibly could first.

"Everything okay?"

Carson went tense as a spring and turned to face the owner of George's Grill, standing in the doorway of his establishment wiping out a glass with a bar towel. Wiping the nervous sweat from his forehead, Carson gave the man a grin and tried to act natural.

"Just fine," he stuttered. He walked slowly around the car to the driver's side and began to get in.

"What's wrong with the lady?" George persisted, taking a few steps toward the sedan. "I saw you push her into your car."

Carson straightened and shrugged like he was embarrassed. "My girlfriend had a few too many. She's okay. I'm just taking her home."

"Really? Well, she wasn't in here, and I'm the only bar around for four blocks," the owner said. "Let me have a look at her. You sure she's not sick or something?"

"No, I was just leaving…. Really, she's just a little drunk…" Carson sputtered.

Side-stepping around Carson and walking over to the car window, George looked in and his eyes widened. Carson swiped at him to cut him off but it was too late.

"Hey, that's Dr. Brennan! What's Dr. Brennan doing in your car? Who are you? Sam!" He yelled behind him. "I need you out here. " George swung around. "She's not your girlfriend, buddy. Are you going to tell me what's going on, or do I call the police?"

Carson looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He turned to run back around to the driver's side but George gripped him by the arm. Wrenching out of his grasp, Carson managed to push him backward for a second, long enough to vault over the hood of the car and jump into the driver's seat. Fumbling with the keys, he frantically tried to start the ignition.

"Sam, help me open the back door!"

Luckily the car doors were unlocked. Carson made a fumbling move to depress the lock control but it was too late. George yanked open the back door and grabbed Brennan's ankles. Sam came around to help, reaching inside and grabbing her by the shoulders. Carson had the car started and in gear just as they managed to pull Bones' limp body clear. The car squealed away, George staring after it trying to memorize the plates.

"Dr. Brennan?" Sam was on the sidewalk, holding her in his lap, gently slapping her face to rouse her.

"Call Booth," she said faintly.

"What happened? Who was that guy?" George was on her other side.

"Do you want me to call the police on him?"

"Just call Agent Booth; he'll know what to do," she requested hoarsely. She struggled to open her eyes, her complexion ashen.

"I feel sick," she whispered. She reached around her aimlessly, her head tossing back and forth.

"Just relax, there, Dr. Brennan. George is inside calling Agent Booth right now."

The commotion was attracting a crowd from the bar. The owners and employees of George's Grill knew Bones and Booth well. The two partners were practically daily customers at the neighborhood bar and had helped George out with several tough situations over the years. Running inside, George pulled Booth's business card off the bulletin board in the entrance and dialed.

Booth was standing inside his apartment, staring at the door Bones had run out moments before, emotionally spent. He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. He knew Bones; he knew that showing her how deep his feelings were would freak her out. Now it was too late; he couldn't take back what had happened between them. Sure, she'd initiated the kiss, but he'd grabbed it and run with it way down the track. He could only hope that somehow they could eventually recover the easy, familiar relationship they'd enjoyed up until tonight.

Going back to the window, he stared out at the curb where Bones was parked. It took him a minute, between the darkness and his own muddled mental state, for it to dawn on him that her car was still there.

She was still here? Booth's heart leaped in his chest. Maybe she was having second thoughts; maybe she was changing her mind. He peeked in the back bedroom to make sure Parker was sound asleep, grabbed the keys to the apartment and practically vaulted down the stairs.

Full of hope again, Booth was out at her car within moments. Perplexed to find it empty, he looked around to see where she could have gone. Either she'd be sitting in her car or she would have come back upstairs. Where else could she be? He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, hitting Bones' speed dial. Her ring tone sounded from the curb close behind him.

Whirling around, he found her phone in the tiny square of grass that he and his neighbors called "The Yard." Pouncing, he snatched it up and turned it off. He felt frozen inside, all the elation of a moment ago gone in one horrifying instant. Something had happened to her; there was no other explanation that fit the circumstances. And the most likely scenario centered around Andrew Carson. Booth sank to his knees, angry at himself for letting her out of his sight.

He should have taken that S.O.B. out when he had the chance, Booth thought furiously; he should have shot him before he could hurt someone else. Slipping her phone into his pocket, he pulled his own out to call Max. Before he could dial, the phone rang in his hands.

"Booth," he answered impatiently.

"Agent Booth, this is George's Bar and Grill. Dr. Brennan asked me to call you."

"Is she there?" He shouted.

"Yes, but she was attacked by a man outside the bar. She's not hurt that I can tell, but she seems to have been drugged or something."

"I'm on my way."

The guys at George's had helped Dr. Brennan inside to a seat in a quiet corner of the bar by the time Booth got there a few minutes later. Her head was beginning to clear but she still looked pale and quiet. Booth stormed inside, looked around frantically, and ran to her side when he spotted her with George.

"Bones! What happened?" He slid in beside her and with a strong pull encouraged her to lean against his side.

"It was Carson." She looked up, visibly relieved to see him.

"I figured as much. What did he do to you? I should have never let you leave alone. I'm sorry."

"It's my fault, Booth, not yours. I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings and he caught me by surprise." She closed her eyes. Booth began to worry again.

"Did he hurt you?"

"He knocked me out with something—ether, I think, from the smell of it."

"I'm going to take her home, George," he told the bar owner. Turning back to Bones, he said, "I left Parker alone. Do you feel up to walking home with me? Or do you want me to call Max or Russ to come drive you home?"

"No. We need to call them and tell them to watch out for Carson, but I want to go back to your place. You're right; Parker shouldn't be alone." She tried to stand up but ended up leaning heavily on Booth. Keeping an arm around her waist, he guided her out of the bar. George followed them out to the curb, talking.

"He tried to tell me Dr. Brennan was his drunk girlfriend. It's a good thing I already knew she was your girlfriend, Booth."

Booth hid his grin. That was news to him, especially after the encounter he'd had with her earlier tonight.

"You want me to call the police? I got a few numbers off his license plate, but not all of them. Here, take them, for what it's worth." He handed Booth a napkin with something scrawled across it.

"This is good work, George," Booth assured him. "We've arrested perps from partial plates before. Thanks, but don't worry about calling the police. I'll call my contacts at the FBI. We'll haul this guy in; don't worry."

"I know you will," George agreed proudly. Turning to Sam, they went back in, already talking in excited tones about the night's events.

A half hour later, things were almost calm again. Booth and Brennan had walked slowly back to his place. Parker remained sound asleep. Booth had finished making calls to Max, Russ and his contacts at FBI headquarters. Bones had wrapped herself in his fleece blanket and sat curled up in the overstuffed arm chair next to his couch. Booth brought her a steaming cup of tea and plopped down on the end of the couch nearest to her chair. She still looked a little wan. He took a long pull from his beer and slumped back with a deep sigh.

"How are you doing?" He asked. His eyes were tender as he looked her over.

"Better. Just really tired now. Did you warn Dad and Russ to be on the lookout for Carson?"

"Yes, I did. They're as safe as any of us can be until we find him and put a stop to this. Max wants us to meet them over breakfast at the diner tomorrow morning. At least we've got an APB out on his car and partial plates. Come on, Bones; go sleep in my room. You need to get some sleep."

"I hope this won't ruin Parker's time with you," she lamented, the thought having just occurred to her.

"I'll cross that bridge when we come to it. He's a tough little guy."

"Parker's a great kid. He's interested in a lot of different topics, quite intelligent and great with people, like you."

Bones made no move to get up and go to his bed, in spite of Booth's offer. It occurred to him that she might feel awkward about what had happened earlier that night between them. Maybe she thought he was offering to go to bed with her, and she was avoiding the subject. Feeling frustrated, awkward and wishing she was easier to read, he gestured at the couch he was sitting on.

"I'll sleep here on the couch. That means you're keeping me awake, Bones." He gave her a pointed glance.

"I am?" She asked, confused.

"Go to bed. You need some sleep and you're in no shape to drive yourself home. Besides, after what happened tonight, I can't let you go home alone."

He waved her away and stretched out on the couch with a heartfelt groan. As she rose to her feet and shuffled toward his bedroom, he called out, "there's a new toothbrush in the linen closet. Help yourself to whatever you need."

"Thank you, Booth," she replied. "Thank you for coming to get me tonight. You're right; I should never have left in the first place. I was… running away, and that was wrong."

"It's okay, Bones. Really; I think I understand. Let's talk about it after you've had some rest."

She gazed at him lovingly before she turned and disappeared into his bedroom.

To be continued soon…!!