See? I told you it wouldn't take me as long to update again! :) I hope you like this next chapter of The Bones in the House. Sweets finally makes an appearance. :) Enjoy!

Dis: I, to my great sadness, do not own either Bones or House or anyone in between.

Chapter Seven- Please Don't Stop my Heart

Lance Sweets was staring, mouth slightly open.

"I bet he could gulp me down in one mouthful!" The psychiatrist whispered.

The three members of the Jeffersonian team were crowded together in David Garth's room. Booth was standing over the bed and Sweets was leaning over his shoulder. Brennan, who was leaning in the doorway, shook her head. "It's physically impossible for the man, no matter how large he is, to fit an entire human being in his mouth and swallow him whole. He's not a python, Sweets."

Sweets looked at Brennan and sighed. "Dr. Brennan, we really need to work on your metaphorical skills. Bring it up next session."

Booth leaned over and tapped David Garth's arm. "Psssst. David." He whispered. "Daaaavid…" Booth straightened up and looked at his partner. He shrugged.

Brennan stepped over and shouted, "DAVID!"

The stout man's eyes flew open. "What? What is it? Where am I?"

"Bones!" Booth raised his hands. "Hey, calm down, buddy. I'm Seeley Booth of the FBI and this is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"I'm Dr. Lance Sweets." Sweets put in from behind Booth. David looked confused.

"FBI?"

"We just need to ask you a couple of questions." Booth said.

Brennan watched her partner begin the questioning with an impassive face. Booth was so good at reading people. He could just…tell. It was his gut, they liked to joke. But Brennan knew that your gastro-intestinal system had nothing to do with being able to tell if a woman was having an affair or not. She could read bones like no one else, but when it came to real people… She was absolutely hopeless. Suddenly, Brennan's phone buzzed and snapped her out of her musings.

She stepped outside the room to answer it. "Hello?"

"Hi there, Sweetie. How's New Jersey?"

"Hi, Angela. It's fine."

"We have the results on that driver's license you scanned over to me. It's not a driver's license. It's a membership card to the Hiker's Group of Princeton. Their motto is No mountain too high, no woods too thick. Marilyn Torree was a member."

"Marilyn Torree?" Brennan asked, looking back into the room at David Garth. "Thanks, Ange."

Brennan hung up the phone and moved back into the room in time to hear Booth say, "So you have no idea where these bones came from? You just happened to stumble upon them while out hiking?"

David nodded. "That's right."

"Was anyone out hiking with you?"

"Um, yeah, my niece, Amanda. She's the one who insisted I begin exercising again."

"Smart kid." Muttered Sweets.

Booth glared at him before returning to his line of questioning. "And you called 911 immediately after you noticed the bones."

David looked slightly put out. "Yeah, of course. I mean, they were human bones. My niece is way into the whole bones thing…she was Goth for a little while before she changed schools."

Brennan seized her chance and tapped Booth on the shoulder, firmly not allowing her mind to fixate on his broad shoulders. "Booth. That was Angela, on the phone. She's ID'd the victim. Her name is Marilyn Torree." There came a gasp from both the bed and from the doorway. Brennan continued, unabashed. "She was a member of the Hiker's Group of Princeton."

"Marilyn!? Marilyn is the dead body from the woods?" A female's high pitched voice shot through the room. Brennan and Booth turned toward the door away from a pale and sweating David to face a young woman in the doorway, about twenty-three from the look of her. She had long black hair that was streaked a blood red. She had her ears pierced all the way up and was wearing a shirt with an obscure band logo on it that neither Booth nor Brennan nor Sweets recognized. This had to be Amanda. She snapped her bright pink bubblegum in an annoying fashion, a stricken look on her otherwise pretty face.

"Did you know Marilyn?" Booth was back to business.

"Yes." David's voice wheezed from the bed. "I knew her very well. She and I hiked in the same group." He looked pale, and coughed. "Marilyn, oh, Marilyn. I can't believe that I saw… that those were her…oh god." He coughed again, and this time, blood appeared on his hand.

"Uncle David!" Amanda darted to her uncle's bed and placed her hand on his shoulder.

Brennan spun and poked her head outside the door. "Hey, we need help in here!" She shouted.

Booth ushered Sweets and Brennan out into the hallway past a flock of nurses in colorful scrubs rushing to David Garth's room. Amanda appeared in the hallway a moment later, obviously having been shoved aside. She cast a worried look into her uncle's room before turning to the partners and their therapist. "So…it was really Marilyn that you found?"

"Yeah, listen what can you tell me about what Marilyn is like? Habits, enemies, etc." Booth whipped out a notepad and watched Amanda expectantly.

Amanda wiped her nose, letting her bubblegum snap loudly. "I don't knew what to tell you… Marilyn was really nice. She always helped the new hikers get to know people in the group. I think she might have had problems with her boyfriend, though. I caught her crying the other day."

Booth nodded. "Ok. Thank you…"

The girl looked up at the FBI agent. "Amanda." She just barely whispered, confirming what the partners already suspected. "Amanda Garth."

******

House's beeper was going off. He groaned and cracked open his eyes, grabbing at his belt to dislodge the irritating menace. The crippled doctor was lying on a couch in the staff break room, sleeping. Or, he was sleeping, until his patient decided to let his heart stop. Blasted patients. Always thinking about themselves.

Thirteen poked her head into the break room. "House? Our patient's dying."

"So?"

"Oh, no reason. Just thought you'd like to know." Sarcastic little…

"Let's go, House."

Kutner. "Ah, tell him to die later. I'm sleeping."

"Wrong. You were sleeping." And that lovely ethnic drumbeat would be Foreman.

"The man's heart stopped, House. He's going to die unless we find out why." Taub. How fun, the gang's all here.

House kneaded his eyes with the palms of his hands. Clearly he wasn't going to be getting any more sleep on his work time. "Well?" He snapped. "Have you seen this guy? He weighs a billion pounds. Heart attack. Check his arteries. Now go away."

"We already checked his arteries, House. Remember? They're clean." Thirteen sounded rather annoyed.

"Maybe you should go check again. Wouldn't be the first time you've messed up a test."

"Hey, House, leave Thirteen alone. She did the test just fine." Kutner? Hmm… Figures. House opened his eyes to find his team plus Foreman glaring at him.

He sighed and sat up, grabbing his cane and getting slowly, but surely to his feet. "Alright. Why did his heart stop then? Since you all want to work so badly, you must have some ideas."

The team was silent. Taub looked at Kutner, who glanced at Thirteen, who quickly tore her eyes from him to glance back at Taub. No one seemed to want to go first.

"Arrhythmias." Kutner finally spoke up.

"Atherosclerosis." Taub also found his voice.

"His arteries were clean." Foreman sounded faintly irritated.

"PVC's." Thirteen seemed to have warmed to the Arrhythmias idea. She looked excitedly at House. "His heart is continually skipping beats and no one noticed because of all the fat."

"CAD." Kutner revised his theory.

House was silent for a moment, considering the possibilities. "Thirteen. You take Kutner and go run some tests for the PVC. Taub, go run his house for toxins."

Thirteen paled slightly. "Couldn't I…"

"No." House kicked his cane up and let it rest against his shoulder. "Now go."

Kutner bit his lip and followed a stiff-necked Thirteen out of the room.

Taub fixed his boss with a level-headed gaze. "Are you purposely forcing them to do tests together?"

House gave him a wicked grin. "No. What would ever make you think that?"

Taub shook his head and he got up and left, followed by Foreman. House grabbed the remote to the TV and settled himself back down onto the couch. Maybe he could catch the tail end of Love and Medicine: The Story of Juanita and Ricardo. He turned on the TV and, closing his eyes, let the sounds of the Spanish actors' voices lull him off to sleep again.

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xxAllTheWorldsAStagexx