AN: Due to the fact that I was engaging in some late St. Patties day celebrating last Thursday I had the poor fortune to miss the latest Bones on TV. However I'm quite happy how it's up so fast online for repeated viewing while I'm supposed to be studying. I must admit I like this new intern even with his annoying tendency towards onomatopoeia; that and I almost feel as if the writers are trying to read and respond favorably to various "WTF Writers" criticisms put out here in fandom. I would if I were a writer. And what with my effusive glee over the latest Bones, which I might add I do not own let me be among the many to say that once again FOX has lied to us by postponing the next episode a week but I do digress. Therefore without further ado I present you my wonderful readers, and even more wonderful reviewers (hint hint nudge nudge) the latest installment of "Jungle Work."

"10 MINUTES!"

The screams of the jumpmaster barely heard over the roar of the C-130's engines. You slowly shake yourself awake and try to get the blood flowing through your cramped limbs. Jumping in full combat gear means that men are squished together at the most awkward angles and into the smallest of spaces. Having at least 60lbs of gear strapped to your shins, weapon poorly attached to your leg, reserve chute taking up space on your gut, and a heavy parachute on your back makes you feel like a pregnant penguin with arthritis.

"10 MINUTES 10 MINUTES 10 MINUTES!" You and the rest of your stick repeat the cry down the length of the cargo bay, no telling who you're waking up just in time to jump.

"OUTBOARD PERSONNEL STAND UP!"

A loud scuffle and stumble occurs as everyone on sitting nearest to the fuselage stands up, or tries to. Having a dozen large burly men carrying half again their body weight in gear try to stand up in a place smaller than most public restrooms is less than an orderly affair. You'd say you're squeezed in like sardines but sardines are orderly and quiet.

"INBRED PERSONNEL STAND UP!"

That age old joke amongst the airborne; obligatory groans and giggles barely discernable in the din of the engines. Your turn to try and stand up; Whoops Seeley boy try not to face plant into your battle buddy's crotch.

"HOOK UP!"

You unhook your static line from the strap on your waist/reserve chute and hook it up to the metal cable running above your head. You try not to think about how if this baby doesn't hold then your chute won't deploy.

"CHECK STATIC LINE!"

As you echo the command down the line you trace the static line in your hand down and over your shoulder checking for kinks or bends in the line. If, God-forbid, for some reason you found your line was cut then you'd be in one hell of a pickle.

"CHECK EQUIPMENT!"
You all sound off in tandem checking each piece of your equipment: "Helmet, chin-strap, chest strap, left and right leg strap, weapons bag!" If any of these pieces aren't in proper shape then complications could occur when you hit the ground after a 1,500 foot drop.

"SOUND OFF FOR EQUIPMENT CHECK!"

Up the line fully grown men slap each other on the ass screaming that they're ok into their buddy's ear. You sound off with a loud and thunderous "EIGHT OK" as you clap Wilson hard on his right cheek. Hey how else is he going to know that you're talking to him with engines roaring barely feet away from you? The cry travels up the line until the lead man screams "All OK Jumpmaster!"

Now you wait.

"FIVE MINUTES!"

Five minutes left in the cold metal hold of the plane. These minutes seem to stretch on into infinity as the sweat on your forehead beads and falls down your face. You blink away these salty droplets as you stare into the back of the Wilson's helmet; the cat-eyes glaring at you like two tiny beads of fire.

"ONE MINUTE!"

Whoah where did that time go?! Don't you think that those five minutes suddenly went by way too quickly? Are you going to miss the DZ? Are you going to the right place? Oh crap what if there's a problem and-
"THIRTY SECONDS!"

The line move forwards as the first man positions himself in the door, ready to jump out into the void. Hail Mary full of Grace the Lord is with thee… you hastily mumble off a prayer as you feel the weight of your equipment suddenly double on your shoulders. Maybe this is all a dream and you'll wake up safe at home? Not that home was safe mind you but still.

"GO GO GO!"

Shuffle up to the door, wow guys are heading out of the door fast aren't they? Before you know it you hand off your line mechanically to the red hued face of a jump master, the red-light giving his eyes a demonic glow.

"GO GO GO!"

Without thinking you position and swing your legs out, folding your body into an L-shape. You're eyes can't see anything cause of the night. Or is it because they're closed? Hey Seeley pay attention.
One-thousand, two-thousand, three-thousand, four-thousand, five-
*YANK* *JERK* "OOFH!"

At least your chute deployed.

Check canopy gain canopy control. Oh just your luck the suspension lines are almost completely tangled up; bike pedal Seeley and let the knots out or else your canopy is going to… Oh shit it just went and did.

Your fucking chute just went and collapsed.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-

At least your reserve works.

Now there's nothing to do but ride it in Seeley, no way to slow your descent or flare your canopy before you hit the ground.

Hey the ground is coming up fast isn't it?

Wait did you release your combat gear?

Nope still attached to your shins; this is going to hurt. Slamming a full pack and your shins into the ground at 25mph is less than a pleasant experience.

Wait where is your leg bag?

Where's your weapon?!

Oh shit. You look around desperately into the darkness, the ground rushing up to meet you at an astonishing pace.

FUCK where is she?!

Where the hell is-

"Temperance!"

You jerk awake in the back seat as you hear the blare of a car horn and the screech of brakes. You're slightly amused to see Bones and Max fighting over which exit to take on the highway.

"Darn it Temperance you missed the exit! Now we're going to have to go all the way down to Andersonville to get the connection!"

"Dad we need to take the exit to Harrington not Queenstown; the map clearly states that so we follow the map!"

"No Honey we had to take that exit because it connects west of the Evansburg-Hagerstown split so we can take the I-32 to get to this town that Booth told us to go."

"The map doesn't show that dad, it clearly shows that we get onto I-32 through Harrington just past Ashbee courthouse."

You just lie back there pondering the whole messed up situation as you let Bones and her dad argue over directions. Why are you so "ok" with simply going in and killing these guys? Why don't you place some calls with some of the guys you know back at the Bureau? Or hell, even the local cops? You know how to get them to show up; might fudge the truth just a little bit and call it a terrorist cell or something like that but you can get the big boys in to do all the dirty work for you right?

You mentally slap yourself for being so naïve. You already know that somebody somewhere managed to get you fired, they've obviously infiltrated the FBI to some extent, and they've had access to your medicals, and even managed to steal IDents for the Jeffersonian. Whoever these people are they have their web strung out over a lot of area covering a ton of angles. Any attempt to bring in the authorities in on this will just notify them and at a minimum alert them that something's up and at worst get you arrested with the bought off agents that they have.

Of course that nagging little suspicion in the back of your head keeps telling you that these guys probably aren't that all powerful; they probably have just shown their cards in all these different places just to keep you second guessing yourself and to keep you off balance. What if you're giving up the chance to call in the cavalry just because it seems as if the authorities are corrupt when they're not?

Can you gamble that these guys are ok or if they're bought off? Can you risk betrayal and failure if it means that you can get some allies to take these guys down? A single glance towards the driver of your vehicle tells you that you could never risk that. Besides you're reformed aren't you? You're not supposed to gamble.

Your rustling in the back seat must have been louder than you expected because suddenly Max and Bones are both trying to get your support in the argument over which direction to go. You find yourself pleasantly distracted by this back and forth; far better trying to tell two of the most hot headed and impressively dangerous people you've ever had the pleasure of meeting and knowing that they're both wrong and that you need to take the exit at Pendleton to get onto I-32 than letting your mind cogitate on the exact reasons why you're so willing to kill again.

************************************************************************************************

Yeah those last 45 minutes have definitely underscored exactly why you don't let Bones drive. After spending so much damn time in the third world looking at dried up skeletons or the gooey remains of massacre victims she's taken up the very bad driving habits of a third world driver. You don't scare easily but by the way your sphincter is still puckering up her sudden cut across four lanes of busy traffic to make it to the exit you'd say that she's definitely gotten the better of you yet again.

At least she knows better than your average third world driver, or for that matter New Jersey resident, that driving a car involves more than just leaning on the horn and putting the pedal to the metal. You're trying to simultaneously fill up the tank at the gas station pump and inspect the outside of the vehicle for some sort of voodoo ward that Bones set up when you weren't looking; there is no way in hell she missed getting T-boned by all those cars by just her natural talents and aggressiveness alone.

You glance over into the front of the vehicle. Max is still looking straight ahead out of the windshield, his eyes wide and his face frozen in a look of horror. You can't see it really well because of the glare from the overhead lights on the glass but you can tell that he's still hyperventilating in fright. Bones meanwhile is off buying some food from the station attendant; the look of triumph on her face as she sauntered off out of the car was priceless. Max will never again tell Bones: "You can't possibly make the exit now we're almost past it." You must admit you didn't expect that level of aggressiveness and competitiveness from Bones but despite the "OHMYGODWE'REALLGOINGTODIE!!!" factor you must say that it was extremely hot.

You're just finishing up putting the hose away when Bones comes back with a rather disgusted look on her face holding some small plastic bags full of what can only be junk food.

"Booth why is it that these places have absolutely nothing healthy or natural in them? I looked all over and couldn't find a single organic piece of food anywhere in the store and all of these foods have so many chemicals and preservatives that they can't possibly be healthy for you." The look of frustration on her face is rather endearing you must say but she's holding the food right now and you'll probably have to get her less annoyed at the world before she'll share.

"Come on Bones these places have to cater to a whole variety of people who are driving extremely long distances; there's no telling where they're going or how long it'll take them to get there. These guys are just trying to get food that'll last their clients long enough till they get to their destination. Now can you please hand me some food I'm starving."

"You're always starving Booth but I highly doubt that all this candy and cakes will do anything but give you a sugar rush."

"Oooo chocolate bars."

"Booth are you even listening to me or are you totally fixated on these sugar filled confections which are in no way proper sustenance." She's holding up a package of pudding cups up over her… ok Seeley let's not stare there shall we? As tempting as it is to stare, plus have a handy excuse for drool, it is not conducive to a working relationship.

"I'm listening to you Bones but will you please just hand me those puddings?"

"Fine, if I knew that you liked chocolate pudding so much then I'd have made you my special chocolate pudding long ago."

"You make pudding?"

"Yes."

"And you make Mac and Cheese?"

"You already know this Booth."

"Bones have I ever told you, you are the greatest?"

"No but what does me being able to cook have to do with that?"

"Ah nothing, let's just get back on the road, only another hour or two before we get to where we need to go."

You spend the next five minutes getting Max back out of his fear induced catatonia; Bones sure can be scary when she wants to and she doesn't even have to really be trying to scare you. You always say that she's bad at reading people but when she's trying to prove something she has an uncanny knack for driving home that one point that she knows that the other person is most vulnerable to.

Of course while you were doing this Bones got back behind the wheel. You think that was the prime factor into getting Max out of the front seat and into the back seat. At least back there you can close your eyes easier and-

"HOLY MOTHER OF GOD BONES!" You wonder for a second if you've finally found something more terrifying to you than those sounds…

"You know that you said that this vehicle takes 2 seconds to go from 0 to 60 but I think that I just beat that."

"What the hell has turned you into this speed demon?"

"I just want to see how your machine handles, after all since you're going to be driving it from now on and since I'm usually driving with you I have a vested interest in knowing that this machine works. I want to make sure that your machine handles properly under all sorts of conditions so that we'll both be satisfied with your performance."

"You know Bones you get a much better performance if you take things more gently and let things warm up a bit before you put into 3rd gear."

"Well I think that there are times that you have to be completely uninhibited in order to get the full experience."

You simply stare at her in a mix or awe/desire/confusion/terror/ and a whole myriad of other emotions.

Suddenly you begin to wonder if you're so willing to kill the people who are out to hurt Bones simply because you wouldn't want her to unleash all of her power against them. Perhaps you're doing this because you want to show them some modicum of mercy?

You ponder these thoughts as the trees whiz by the window in the dark; looking like an endless picket fence as you race deep into the forests of Appalachia.

AN: I'm effusively sorry that there has been a distinct lack of my trademark adrenaline filled bloody action. I promise that my next installment will be much more action packed; and before you ask no I'm not going to continue my previous "dream" arc. This isn't a torture-snuff fic and there are some situations which I feel can't ever be truly described in real time except by reflecting on them. Anyway please review.