Summary: She doesn't remember saying 'I do'. BB. Post season finale.
A/N: Hey all! This is my first attempt on a Bones fic. I hope you all enjoy it! Read and review if you like!
Also, this was inspired by Kate's amazing Mind's Eye (a LOST fic).
Disclaimer: They belong to Fox and a lot of other people, not me /
Thank you so much Katie for beta-ing it for me. Any mistakes blame her! -g-
In physics, a couple is defined as a pair of forces equal in magnitude, acting in opposite directions.
She rounded the corner of the dark alley, following her partner running only a few steps ahead of her, in spite of him basically ordering her to go back to the car and keep herself safe. Four seconds after he had taken off, she had gone after him. She wasn't going to miss the fun. But as her feet touched the narrow and long street of the alley, she felt the ground sticky and dirty under her boots, and the smell of urine didn't make the place any more bearable.
She wrinkled her nose.
She could see Booth jumping over the fallen garbage their possible criminal had thrown in the way to make the agent's passage more difficult, and had drawn his gun up, yelling at the man to stop. But he didn't. She really hated it when suspects thought a bullet couldn't hurt them. Booth, though, wasn't one to shoot when there were other possible ways to resolve the situation. Brennan didn't think there were any other ways to stop the runaway and if she had a gun she'd just shoot the guy's leg and get it over with. Sure, that would bring a lot of glares to her direction, but the guy would be caught. Besides, it was just the leg, how much damage it could be done?
Too bad Booth didn't think the same.
She watched as he ran after Josh Alberts. The guy had long legs and wide stride and was a good way ahead of Booth, there was no way Booth would catch him without shooting, and he wouldn't. Josh Alberts reached a dead end though, when the wired wall appeared in front of him, or so Brennan thought. Upon reaching the obstacle, instead of coming to a halt, the guy simply kicked it to the ground and jumped over the fallen fence, escaping through more garbage and going around the next corner.
Booth followed closely behind, the suspect having been slowed down by the fence.
And Brennan was still running after them.
Booth disappeared from her sight as he rounded the corner after Josh Alberts and she quickened her pace, attempting to catch up. They had come across his name while checking phone calls and thinking it would be helpful to ask a few questions, Booth soon found out that he wouldn't be only unhelpful but apparently a key to closing the investigation as Alberts had taken off running as soon as they had knocked on his door. Brennan, being the snoopy anthropologist she was, decided to go around the house, checking in through the windows when she saw him exiting the back door and jumping over the wooden fence.
As she reached the corner she had to stop for a second and catch her breath. How Booth managed to run such long distance without faltering was beyond her comprehension. She looked ahead and searched for Booth and their runaway criminal, catching a glimpse of the black issued FBI suit wavering as the agent ran. God, he was so far ahead of her.
Catching a deep breath she took off again, trying to get as close as possible. She saw him take a harsh turn to his left, into what she believe was another dirty alley. She really like the field work but in moments like this she wished she was back in her lab.
"Well, he did tell you to stay in the car" her inner voice commented and Brennan simply rolled her eyes.
She finally reached the corner Booth had vanished around and gave herself a mental pat on the back for being right about it being just another dirty alley. More smelly this time. She made a face.
"Booth?" She called his name when she saw him cursing silently and kicking some garbage. "You lost him?" Booth gave her a glare, bringing up one finger. "I did not lose him. He just... disappeared." He made sure to annunciate the 'not' a bit stronger, making it clear it was not his fault so the whole fiasco wouldn't take a bite out of his ego.
She shrugged, not really caring about the semantics. He didn't catch the guy either. She walked towards him, further into the smelly alley, her boots making a thumping sound on the hard, pavement covered ground, echoing around them. The laundry building on her left decided it was time to release all the steam out through the large pipe the exactly moment Brennan was passing by it and as the alley suddenly filled with the white smoke, she gave a startled shriek. It brought a grin to Booth's lips, breaking through the current state of frustration.
Now all he could see was the silhouette of her body as she waved her hand around her face to dissipate some of the steam. Then her silhouette was joined by another one, that seemed to simply materialize from the wall and in a rapid fluid motion grab Brennan by the back.
"Bones!" Booth yelled, cocking his gun and pointing it to whoever had grabbed her.
"Hey!" Bones yelled at the same time as Booth, surprised by the sudden grab.
"Don't!" The person holding Brennan yelled, the voice of a male and immediately Booth had an idea of who it was. The son of a bitch had hidden behind something and Booth had missed him when running into the alley. Josh Alberts raised a gun to Brennan's head, when she started to move and use one of her martial blows, and released the safety, making it clear that he would shoot if it was necessary.
"Let her go." Booth warned, his gun drawn, one eye closed as he tried to aim on the man's body. He had no clear shot, especially with the steam still hanging in the air.
"You move and I'll shoot her." The hesitance in his voice gave Booth a bit of hope that Alberts wasn't going to shoot Brennan.
"You shoot her, I'll kill you." Unlike Josh Alberts' voice, Booth's wasn't hesitant, he didn't falter when holding his gun and pointing it at the general direction of Alberts' head. If only he had a clear shot. If only Bones could read his mind or see his eyes and move enough to give him a good spot to shoot without the possibility of hitting her. If only...
Brennan watched as Booth pointed his gun and used his cold, emotionless voice he always used when dealing with criminals and for a second she knew why same bad guys always given in to him. His voice showed no fear or hesitance that he would shoot if necessary. The fear lead them in. She knew better though, she knew he wouldn't shoot as long as Alberts was holding her against his body, using her own as a shield. The fear of hitting her instead wasn't going to let Booth shoot.
The gun constantly forced against her head was cold and hard. She felt a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. What if he did shoot her? There was no way she would live; no way a bullet to the head wouldn't be fatal.
Suddenly her heart started beating faster. Too fast. That's when he felt him hesitate. You shoot her, I'll kill you. Booth's words had affected him just as much as it had affected her, but differently. To Alberts, it gave him a bone freezing fear, but to Temperance Brennan, it actually gave her warmth and comfort she didn't expect.
And she knew Booth didn't have a clear shot. He was an excellent shot, he had been a sniper once, and if there was a chance he could shoot the guy without hitting her, he would have done it by now, but she couldn't move. Every time she tried he would hold her tighter, the hand around her throat would squeeze firmly and the gun would be pushed harder against the side of her head.
She was scared.
But he was hesitating. C'mon, Booth, keep talking.
And as if hearing her thoughts, Booth began talking again, "Put your gun down very slowly and let her go. If everything ends well, there will be no one hurt, but if anything happens to her I will kill you."
His hand faltered a bit as the gun was taken slightly away from her head. She wasn't feeling the cold metal against her skull anymore and the hand around her neck wasn't as tight as before. Now, if only she could see where the gun was pointed. She was waiting for the right moment, the second he put the gun away from her head enough so she could take the opportunity to kick it away and bring him to the ground, but when it happened, Josh Alberts was faster than Brennan had anticipated. He raised his hand holding the gun and before she could turn and kick him, he brought the butt of the gun down to her head so strongly that it knocked her out.
She fell to the ground with a loud thud, the pain in hear head unbearable as shots exploded around her. As her vision turned black and she blacked out, she could hear her partner calling out her name.
Her last coherent thought was how frightened he sounded.
Her nose was assault by the smell of a sterile environment, and as she slowly opened her eyes, the bright light shining from the open window and reflecting on the white walls attacked them. She squinted, trying to block most of the light, the feeling in the pit of her stomach increasing as she forced her eyes open. She had no idea where she was.
With one hand over her eyes to protect them from the bright and florescent light, she opened them almost fully, wrinkling her nose to the smell around her and the complaints of her stomach. Her eyes caught white everywhere, including the thick gown she was wearing. She heard a deep intake of breath right next to her and then a flush of cologne scented wind as whoever was sitting next to her ran to close the curtains and block all the light out.
"Hey." The voice, definitely a male, whispered overly relieved as he hurried next to her again. The voice was very familiar, but through her still blurry mind and sick stomach she couldn't exactly place it. "Sorry about the curtains, I forgot to close them last night."
She rolled her head carefully to look at him. Seeley Booth was hunched in the black plastic chair, his eyes glimmering with relief, a soothing smile resting on his lips. "What happened?" She asked, rubbing her eyes with both hands to try and send the fogginess away from her brain.
Before Booth could answer another voice, way too cheerful for Brennan's liking at the moment, filled the room. "Sweetie!" Brennan's witty best friend ran to her side, giving her a tight, but careful, hug. "We wereso worried."
"Well, you are fine now. But with the injury on your head and being unconscious for a couple of days, we just thought..." Her voice faltered as a dark mood overtook Angela's usually happy face. "The doctor said some things that worried us a lot, sweetie."
Head injury? Brennan asked herself as she tried to work through her dizzy mind what happened. Unconsciousness, head injury. Right. She had... She was running after a suspect, Booth ahead of her when she was suddenly grabbed and a gun was forced against her head. The last thing she remembered was hearing Booth call her name. "I didn't think it was that bad." Brennan whispered.
"Oh my God, Bren, it was that bad."
"You could have died." Booth suddenly joined in, his voice dark and weak.
Brennan looked from one to the other, confusion etching itself onto her face. Her head hurt, and her stomach was still complaining. This was too much. She had hit her head, that was all; she couldn't understand why everyone seemed so worried. "Ok, will you two shut up please?" She said as loud as she could, shutting her eyes hard. God.
Angela took a hold of Brennan's hand and squeezed it lightly. "I'll just go tell the others you are ok." Pause. "We're really happy you are ok, Bren." And she left the room.
"What is this fuzz all about? I just got hit on head."
"Bones," Booth started, leaning in the bed to gently hold her chin and check the injuries on her face. His touch was light and warm and inviting, just as it was when he barged in the hospital room she had been examined in back in New Orleans, and she almost closed her eyes and melted into his touch. The cop thought they were in a relationship and sometimes Brennan took a dive into wondering that herself. Angela noticed (and made sure to be very clear about it) that cop noticed, Sid often gave them looks and David made not so innocent comments now and then. Often she wished she could be an outsider to see what the rest saw. "You didn't just get hit on the head. It was pretty bad." There was a caution in his voice, as the words spilled out. His thumb came to rest on her bottom lip, where she could feel it had been cut. Suddenly she could feel her heart pounding in her ears.
Her breath rapid and erratic started to return to normal when he leaned back, away from her and took her hand in his. As she looked down at their joined hands, confused, a band around Booth's finger caught the shimmering light, reflecting against her eyes.
There was a lump in her throat as her heart stopped. What was going on? "You're married?" She asked, her voice almost incredulously.
Booth stopped rubbing her hand and his muscles visibly tensed. "Tempe?"
She retrieved her hand from his, a look of confusion on her pale features. "What's going on?"
Again, he reached for her hand and holding it in front of her face, she could see it. There it was, a beautiful ring covered in tiny diamond rocks, placed beside a matching golden band. Fear covered her face.
Booth matched her look of confusion and fear as he ran a hand through his messy, thick, dark hair. "Tempie..." Her name sounded forlorn in her ears when coming from his lips. She was so used to hearing him call her Bones that she had become familiar with it. He never called her Tempie, he never did.
"I don't know-" She started, desperate, but was cut off by him.
"Bones," He said instead, noticing her discomfort, "What's the last thing you remember?"
She forced her mind to work. The teenage girl they were working on, Booth running, she running after him, after the suspect... "I got hit on the head by... by..." Blank. "Josh something. He grabbed me and wouldn't back down. I was going to kick him to the ground but he hit me instead." She tried to remember anything after that, but she couldn't. Her mind was nothing but blackness.
Booth's face turned into a complete mask of fear and sympathy for her. He tried to comfort her, his voice as soft as possible. "Tempe," He noticed her muscles tense at him using that nickname, but tried not to dwell on it, "It's been almost three years since that case."
Cliché right? I know, BUT this is not what you think ;)