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Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Unable to stop himself, Booth ran his hands through his hair and felt his head carefully. Brennan concerned that he wouldn't leave his head alone and rest quietly finally asked him, "Booth, why do you keep running your fingers through your hair? Is there a problem? Does your head hurt?"

Moving his hand back to his side, Booth stared at the ceiling. "If my . . . brain tumor came back . . . would you . . . tell me?"

Surprised, Brennan shook her head, leaned over the bed and stared at her partner. "Booth, you were shot. You did not have another brain tumor. I promise you, I would tell you if that happened . . . You feel the pain in your chest, don't you? You have a tube in your chest to help your lung inflate. Surely you understand that you've been shot."

Sighing, Booth turned his gaze towards his partner. "I don't remember . . . being shot . . . I don't remember . . . anything about it. For all I know . . . I could have . . . had a seizure because . . . because of another brain tumor . . . and I fell and I hit . . . something on the way down . . . hurting my chest and . . . and I guess my back."

Exasperated, Brennan placed her hand on his arm and squeezed it. "Booth, I've never lied to you before and I'm not going to start now. . . . Yes, if you had another brain tumor I'd tell you . . . Not remembering being shot is not unusual. It happens more often than not. You were shot by someone in your apartment. I found you when I came over to practice our testimony for the upcoming Gravedigger trial. No one is hiding anything from you. Why would we do that?'

Swallowing, Booth closed his eyes and then reopened them. "Wouldn't you . . . lie to me if I was . . . dying?"

Sad for her partner, Brennan squeezed his arm again. "I would never lie to you about something that serious Booth. If you were dying I would tell you, so you could prepare for it. Wouldn't you tell me if I was dying?"

Shaking his head, Booth smiled at her. "No I . . . wouldn't. I'd want you to be . . . happy and not worry . . . about the things you haven't . . . finished doing yet which would . . . would drive you and me . . . nuts."

Her eyebrows raised, Brennan shook her head. "I see. Maybe I should rethink you being my medical proxy then."

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth frowned at her hating the sensation that he was so short of breath. "Better not . . . What if . . .we're out in the middle of . . . the boondocks and you . . . you get hurt? It . . . would be tough to wait for . . . for someone else to come . . . and give the doctors permission to . . . to operate on you . . . Just saying."

Brennan released his arm and nodded her head. "Alright, you do have a point. Still when you are better, we will have a talk about what you should and should not tell me about my medical conditions."

Reaching up, Booth placed his hand on her waist. "I'll always . . . be there for you . . . Bones. You don't need . . . anyone else as your . . . medical proxy."

Brennan clasped her hand on his arm again and assured him. "Yes, you're right, but we are going to have that talk."

Oooooooooooooooo

Entering the room, Deputy Director Cullen and Agent Harris found Booth and Brennan holding hands and staring intently at each other.

Brennan aware that they now had company in the room, tried to release Booth's hand, but Booth held her hand tighter keeping her hand in his.

If he didn't mind then she didn't either so she smiled and watched as Cullen and Harris walked around the bed and stood on the other side.

Nodding his head, Cullen glanced at Brennan and then back at Booth. "We've made an arrest. Apparently Heather Taffet had an accomplice in her kidnapping enterprise. You know, when I first found out that she was the Gravedigger I could never reconcile the fact that such a small woman could have kidnapped you from your apartment by herself. Unfortunately we never found any proof she had a partner, so we had to let that go . . . Well, she did have a partner and it would seem that he was worried about you. When you answered the door the night you were kidnapped, he thought you saw him before you were stunned. He counted on you dying on the ship, but when you didn't he thought for sure there would be a man hunt for him . . . The weeks went by and nothing happened, so he felt he was safe enough."

Impatient, Harris interrupted his boss. "You know him Booth. He's a Homeland Security Agent . . . Doug Clary."

Angry, Booth protested, "That asshole is . . . is on my hockey team." Coughing, he realized that he needed to remain calm.

Concerned for his friend, Harris waited until Booth stopped coughing. "I told you when you recruited him that he was shifty looking. Next time listen to me."

Rolling his eyes, Booth looked at his boss and asked quietly, "Why'd he . . . shoot me now? It's been over . . . over a year since I . . . was kidnapped. What . . . changed?"

His hands clasped in front of his stomach, Cullen answered the agent, "When he heard that you had brain surgery he felt relieved. He thought he was going to be forever safe. He figured the surgery would really screw up your memory and he'd never have to worry about you again . . . Then a few days ago, he was in the break room on your floor at the Hoover getting a cup of coffee when you and another agent walked into the room talking about the Gravedigger case. You mentioned that the Gravedigger probably had an accomplice and you wanted to open up her kidnapping cases and see if you could figure out who he was. What scared the shit out of him was you mentioning that the partner might have a connection to law enforcement and you wanted careful attention paid to Heather Taffet's known associates. He said he almost pissed his pants when he heard that. He thought you might be starting to remember the night you were kidnapped and he wanted to silence you before you pointed a finger at him."

Filled with anger, Booth shook his head and tried to speak softly, "Shit . . . you mean I . . . was shot because that idiot thought . . . I remembered who kidnapped me? I . . . didn't see who kidnapped me or . . . if I did I sure as hell . . . don't remember it."

Shrugging his shoulders, Cullen hated what he was about to say. "He didn't want to take that chance . . . He's cut a deal with the prosecuting attorney, he's going to turn states evidence against Taffet and testify at her trial."

Wary, Brennan asked, "What kind of deal?"

He knew that the shit was about to hit the fan, so Cullen kept his gaze upon Booth. "15 years for the attempted murder of a Federal agent."

Furious, Booth barked out, "15 years? . . . 15 years?"

Sighing, Harris nodded his head. "Taffet is going to fry for what she did, Booth. Clary was just her lackey."

So angry he could barely speak, Booth glared at his friend. "Bullshit . . . this is fucking . . . bullshit."

Shaking his head, Cullen spoke, "It's done Booth. Taffet was the brains of the operation. Clary was just the muscle. Be happy Taffet is going to pay the ultimate price. Clary is a Federal Agent. He'll be lucky if he survives his prison term. Besides serving that sentence, he's also going to serve for second degree murder for the death of those three boys. He's probably not going to get out of prison alive."

Brennan placed her hand on Booth's shoulder to try to calm down. "Why would someone in Homeland Security help Taffet do what she did?"

Disgusted, Cullen shook his head. "He had an affair with someone he shouldn't have and Taffet found out. Clary doesn't know how, but if the woman's husband had found out about it, his career would have been over. He was also afraid that the husband would have had him killed. The man is connected to powerful people who would do anything to keep him happy. Taffet helped Clary make sure that never happened."

Puzzled, Brennan asked, "Helped him how?"

Angry, Harris interrupted the conversation. "They kidnapped the wife and buried her alive. As far as the husband was concerned she just disappeared. Clary told us where she's buried. We're sending a team out to recover her body."

Appalled, Booth shook his head. "And he's not . . . not going to answer for that?"

Pursing his lips, Cullen shook his head. "It's up to the prosecutor. We made a deal that we'd take the death penalty off the table for the deaths of the three boys while he was helping Taffet. Caroline is going to wait until this trial is over and then she will consider prosecuting him for the murder of the woman. She needs his cooperation right now. He's probably going to be in jail for the rest of his life as it is. Caroline told me that she's more inclined to hold back prosecution for that death and if it looks like Clary is going to get out of prison before he should, she'll prosecute him for the murder then. There's no statute of limitations for murder. It will depend upon the husband really. If he creates a stink and Caroline can't make him see her point of view then she'll have to go after Clary after the Taffet trial is over."

Booth felt Brennan press her fingers into his shoulder and he knew he was not going to get his way. "Right . . . I'm tired. Can you . . . leave now?" He closed his eyes and hoped they would all leave him alone.

Nodding his head, Cullen patted Booth's arm. "You're kidnappers are being punished Booth. Clary is not getting off as easy as you think. He's going to serve his time at Leavenworth."

At that point, Booth didn't care and refused to open his eyes."What ever."

Moving away from the bed, Cullen smiled at Brennan. "I'll be back tomorrow to check on things."

Harris knew Booth was very upset, so he patted the man's Booth's shoulder and stared at Brennan. "Hey, you get better, man. I'll bring you some cookies tomorrow."

Walking away, Harris heard Booth speak. "Make sure they're . . . chocolate chip and the . . .chewy kind . . . oh and bring me . . . a milkshake."

Amused, Harris lifted his hand and waved it. "You got it."

Ooooooooooooooooooo

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