Hola mis amigos! No, I'm not dead. I just have several things started and not enough finished. I'm sorry... This chapter's mostly filler, but the good news is that I know exactly where the next chapter's going and you can expect it up in a few days. So if you could just live through this chapter, I promise you a quick update on Chapter Nine. Thank you, as always, for reading and reviewing. This chapter is for my lovely reviewers who kicked me in the behind and said, "Get moving!" I truly do love you. :D

Dis: Yadda Yadda Yadda...


Chapter Eight-Unnerving

Brennan found Chase sitting by himself in the cafeteria, eating a sandwich and reading a book. "Hey, Bobby."

Chase looked up and smiled through his mouthful of roast beef. He swallowed audibly. "Tempe! Hey! Where's your partner?"

Brennan sat down across from him. "He and Sweets went to go and question some people from the Hiker's Union. I'm analyzing the bones and seeing what I can find from there. I sent data back to my team at the Jeffersonian and thought I'd get something to eat while I waited for their results… what are you reading?"

Chase looked embarrassed. "Oh, it's noth—"

"Bred in the Bone?" Brennan looked amused.

Chase grinned at her. "I happen to know the author."

Brennan laughed and looked around her. "So, this is where you work every day?"

Chase nodded. "I work in surgery, and… Hey, there's Cameron. Allison!"

Brennan turned to see a short blond girl smiling and waving at them. "Who's that?" She asked, raising one eyebrow at her friend.

Chase stood up and gave Cameron a hug. "Brennan, this is my fiancée, Allison Cameron. Allison, this is a good friend of mine, Temperance Brennan."

Cameron gave Brennan a once over. "Hello…" She said rather stiffly.

The smile Brennan gave Cameron was genuine. "Hi." She stood up, sensing that she should leave them be. "Well, I'd better get back to my bones now. Have a good lunch, Bobby. It was nice to meet you, Allison." Brennan left the pair and the cafeteria and made her way back to the little room that Kutner had set up for her. Now that she had made sure that the integrity of her bones hadn't been compromised, she found that she really did like having an examination room to herself. She would have to thank Kutner when she got a chance. Allison Cameron looked like a nice girl too.

Brennan snapped on a pair of latex gloves and bent low over the skeleton, feeling her somewhat overly analytical mind settle into a familiar pattern. She picked up the left femur and got to work.

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Seeley Booth was not a happy individual. First of all, the Hiker's Union was headquartered in a small building right on the fringe of the woods. It was rather cramped and smelled strongly of new leather. Secondly, he was here with Sweets, and not Brennan. He took the opportunity to shoot his therapist an irritated glance as they stood together in the lobby of the Hiker's Union. Sweets was looking around him with interest.

"You know…" He began. "Hiking is used primarily by people who want to appreciate the beauty of the outdoors. Rarely is it used for a workout routine, although it makes sense to be also considered as…" He trailed off at the look on Booth's face.

Booth leaned over the little reception counter again and hit the bell for a third time. "Is it really so hard…" He asked, his voice rising with his temper. "To get a little service around here!?"

Sweets put his hand on the crook of Booth's arm. "Agent Booth, you really should keep your temper down."

Booth looked down at Sweet's hand on his arm and slowly, dangerously, raised one solitary eyebrow. Sweets quickly removed his hand. "All I'm saying is that people would probably respond much…"

"Can I help you? … Oh, Agent Booth!" Booth and Sweets turned back to the counter. Amanda Garrett standing behind the counter, wiping her hands on a cloth. "Can I help you, Agent Booth?" She asked, slightly warily. "Nothing's happened to my uncle, has it?"

"Oh, no." Booth quickly reassured the girl. "David is fine. We just had some questions for some of the employees here… Do you work at the Hiker's Union, Amanda?"

Amanda nodded. "Yeah, I work here with my aunt, uncle and Marylin, before she died." The girl's eyes moistened and she looked down at her clasped hands, biting her lip.

"Amanda? Amanda, who's out there?" A woman appeared from the back room behind the counter. She was an older woman, slim, with brown hair that was just showing signs of grey. Premature lines graced her face as she quickly looked over Booth and Sweets. "Oh, Lord, David's not…?"

Booth sighed inwardly. "No, ma'am, David's fine. I'm Special Agent Booth and this is Lance Sweets."

"Oh…" the woman let a sigh of relief tumble from her lips. "I'm Grace Garth… David's wife."

Booth nodded solemnly, slipping easily into the role of concerned FBI agent. "Of course, ma'am. We just have a few questions we'd like to ask you."

"Of… of course." Grace led Booth and Sweets over to a small table and pulled out a chair. "Please, have a seat." Booth and Sweets sat, Sweets letting his eyes flick over the woman, slowly categorizing her ticks and movements. Booth flipped open his little white detecting pad.

Grace met his eyes. "What would you like to know?"

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Thirteen stared down at the test results, chewing her lower lip. "Damn."

Kutner looked up from where he was reorganizing the equipment used for the tests. "Problems, Thirteen?"

Thirteen turned back to him. "The tests are clean for PVC's."

Kutner sighed. "Damn. We were wrong."

"No, I was wrong." Thirteen glared down at the crisp white sheets of paper as though they were somehow responsible for the results they carried. Kutner leaned over and took the results and Thirteen once again got a huge whiff of his cologne. Spicy… no… musk, I think.

Kutner forced himself back to the seat he'd been occupying before, attempting to focus his Thirteen-addled brain on the papers in his hand. Damn, she's beautiful…

"Oh, well." He said, a bit shakily as he stood. "So, you were wrong. Suck it up and come up with a different idea."

Thirteen shot him a look, then relaxed into a smile. "Right. So what have we ruled out?"

Kutner glanced at the papers in his hands. "Well, PVC's."

Thirteen glared at him and snatched the papers back. "And the heart attack was not just because of his fat."

Kutner thought for a moment. "He coughed up blood… right?" He said slowly. "That means blood somehow has to have gotten into the lungs. Let's check out his lungs and see what's up there."

Thirteen's eyes lit up. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that?"

Kutner grinned. "Because I'm awesome. Don't deny it."

Thirteen rolled her eyes. "We should go tell House."

Kutner groaned. "Great. Let's go wake him up… again."

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Greg House was, at the moment that Thirteen and Kutner were discussing him, still fast asleep in the employee lounge, Love and Medicine long over. Suddenly, the door flew open and slammed against the wall, serving the purpose, whether intended or not, of waking the thoroughly annoyed doctor up.

He kept his eyes screwed tightly shut. Sure, it hadn't worked the last time his team had awoken him, but perhaps it would this time. The second time's the charm, after all.

There was the sound of women's heels, clicking over the hard tiled flooring by the kitchen portion of the lounge. House frowned slightly. Cuddy? No… Cuddy would have thrown something at him at this point. He let his mind float off for a few moments daydreaming about his boss before he shook his thoughts back to the mystery heels. Hm. Every other nurse in the building would have hightailed it out of the room the moment they saw Greg House asleep on the couch… It wasn't Cuddy… Cameron would have also talked to him by this point. Thirteen would have come with Kutner… So who…?

"Dr. House?" The woman's crisp professional voice brought a smirk to House's lips. Ah. Dr. Brennan.

House cracked one eye open. "I'm sleeping, Dr. Brennan." He said snidely, mimicking her use of his title.

The pretty anthropologist's head floated into his vision wearing a slightly confused look. "No, you're not. I'm talking to you, and you appear coherent. I need your help."

House snorted. "Forget it. I told you, I'm sleeping."

"What about your patient?"

"He can handle himself."

"House." This time he heard the annoyance in the woman's voice and he opened his eyes again. She had dropped his title and was standing with her hands on her hips, looking for all the world like Lisa Cuddy reincarnated. He swallowed and sat up, wincing as his leg muscle stretched. Brennan's eyes found him unconsciously rubbing his leg and interest filled her eyes. Not pity… interest.

"What happened to your leg?" She asked, bluntly.

House looked up at her, trying to figure out what her game was. When it appeared she was just going to stand there until he answered, he grunted, "Infarction."

Brennan then did something which surprised House, and not much surprised the cynical doctor. She plopped right down on the couch next to him. "Really? What was the alternative?"

House stared at her. What was wrong with this woman? Couldn't she see that this was a subject best left alone? "That or lose the leg." He said. For some reason, Cuddy's face began swirling in his mind. He found himself continuing to spout words at an alarming rate. "That woman you met on the way here, Lisa Cuddy, was the one who ordered it."

Brennan raised one solitary eyebrow, unaware that twenty miles away, her partner was doing the exact same thing. "And…?"

House glared at her, clamming up instantly. "And what?"

Brennan shrugged. "The raised pitch at the end of your sentence indicated a subconscious urge to keep talking."

House stood up, grabbing his cane from where it was leaning against the couch. "Yeah, well, I don't."

Brennan stood as well. "That's fine with me. I tend to bow to Booth's expertise in the area of human emotion anyway. Even if you did decide to share something personal with me, I would have no idea how to respond. Now where is the bathroom?"

House was almost to the door. He paused at her question. "Behind you." He said gruffly, before turning and marching out of the lounge.

Brennan looked behind her. "Ah."

House continued to walk in a determined fashion down the hallway of the hospital. He dodged a nurse and sped his pace slightly. Damn, but that anthropologist was unnerving. Suddenly, footsteps behind him caused him to turn slightly. Thirteen and Kutner (what a shocker) were waving a file at him.

"Negative on the PVC." Thirteen said before House even had time to open his mouth.

"But we've had another idea." Kutner jumped in.

"Well, Kutner had another idea." Thirteen said, glancing at her fellow.

"Well, yeah, but it's the lungs, House. He coughed up blood; that must mean that it got in the lungs somehow."

"Should we go test...?"

"...Or should we get Chase to open him up?"

House's two ducklings watched him with bated breath, after not letting him speak for several rounds of dialogue. House sighed. "Geez, you two are like a married couple." He said, feeling a small jolt of triumph at the panic in his ducklings' eyes. He smirked. "Go find Chase." He continued. "I want to talk to him before he opens up Ronald McDonald's biggest fan."

With those words, House turned on his good heel and continued to his previous destination—Cuddy's office.


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XOXO

Allie