Chapter 1

The scene I would have liked to see after Wanna Be In The Weeds...a little overdone, I know, but I just couldn't resist. Hope you enjoy!

There were hushed voices. And beeping machines. And that truly unique smell of antiseptic, latex, and metal. Hmm…he was pretty sure he'd seen this one before…

Seeley Booth cracked his eyes open slowly, squinting against the bright light shining overhead. Blearily taking in his surroundings, he frowned at the pain in his chest and the heaviness of his limbs.

'Yup, definitely been abducted by aliens,' a sad voice lamented in his head, 'strapped us down and shoving hot pokers into our shoulder…'

'Wait…' He blinked in confusion, something about that explanation not sitting quite right with the rational part of his brain. Doing another quick scan of his surroundings, his eyes narrowed suspiciously on the culprit: a healthy IV of morphine that traveled down to his right arm.

'Alright then, not aliens,' his drugged-mind amended grudgingly, "Hospital…with doctors that could potentially be aliens.' His eyes narrowed again for a moment, but then he sighed and decided to compromise with the morphine. It was being very nice to his shoulder, after all...

"Agent Booth?" The voice pulled him further from his painkiller cloud, and he was finally able to focus on the faces in the room around him. Scrunching his eyebrows in confusion, he closed his eyes warily as the memories began to flood back.

Suddenly, they snapped back open, and he tried vainly to sit up, ignoring the pain that ripped through is shoulder in response. "Bones!" He called urgently, surprised when the name came out as nothing but a soft croak from his dry throat.

A strong set of hands pushed him back into the bed firmly but gently, and his eyes met the worried gaze of Deputy Director Cullen hovering above him. "Relax Booth, your partner is fine, thanks to you," he assured, and Booth immediately allowed the tension to flow out of his limps, collapsing weakly back to his hospital bed with a sigh of relief.

"The shooter?" He rasped.

"Killed at the scene." A short silence, then, "By Dr. Brennan."

Brown eyes glanced up in surprise, but Cullen just shook his head. "Self defense," he assured quickly, pressing a cup of ice chips into the agent's heavy hands, and helping him take the first scoop.

The cool ice felt like heaven as it melted down his raw throat, and Booth closed his eyes for a moment to savor the feeling.

"Everyone else?" He asked quietly, his voice sounds a little more normal as he managed a second scoop of ice by himself.

"Safe." Cullen watched as the agent relaxed slowly, nodding his head tiredly.

"Good," Booth murmured tiredly, "that's good." The painkillers were tugging at him seductively, dragging him slowly back to the painless realms of sleep.

"Booth?" Cullen leaned forward to pluck the ice chips from lax fingers

"Hm?"

"We do have one…issue, that should be addressed as quickly as possible."

Cloudy brown eyes tortuously dragged themselves open, struggling to refocus at the telling tone of his superior's voice.

Cullen cleared his throat. "You remember the Grayson case?" The eyes slid close again, a wrinkle in the skin between them as their owner laboriously churned through memories.

For a moment, Cullen thought the agent had fallen back asleep, but the dazed eyes finally pulled open again, a sigh escaped Booth's battered chest. "Still waiting on my funeral?" His boss had to strain to hear the words.

"Yeah, well we were thinking that we'd give it to him a little early."

"Lacking faith in the hospital staff, sir?"

Cullen chuckled softly. "I'll admit, it's an unconventional strategy, Booth, but this shooting has already gotten a lot of press exposure, and we think we should use it to our advantage."

The agent gave a weak nod, energy quickly fading.

"The thing is," Cullen hurried on, loath to broach the topic but knowing it had to be done, "we have to make this convincing, so for the next two weeks you are going to have to play possum."

Booth said nothing, but his eyes seemed to be focused on Cullen (or at least on a point pretty close to his right shoulder), so the man hurried on. "You will of course be able to notify any necessary people to prevent unneeded pain. Try to keep the list limited to immediate family."

"Parker," the man immediately rasped, "and Bones," he added quickly, closing his eyes. Cullen waited as Booth gave the issue a little more thought, before adding Rebecca, his parents, and his brother to the list.

"I'll take care of it," his superior promised. Then he took a deep breath and cleared his throat, sound slightly embarrassed. "Booth?"

"Sir?" Was there a hint of impatience in that croak?

"Your squints…they were very…uh, adamant…about staying on the premise until they had news of your condition. For obvious security reasons, we couldn't tell all of them what was happening, nor could we keep them hanging around if people are to believe you died in surgery five hours ago." He swallowed, noticing how the other man's eyes suddenly seemed very alert, a look of suspicion beginning to flash at the hedging tone of Cullen's voice.

"Normally under a delicate situation like this, no official announcement would be made until the people on your list were notified, but for security reasons-"

"Temperance." It wasn't a question so much as a harsh demand.

Despite his best efforts, Cullen flushed. "Ah, yes well, as Dr. Brennan is not an immediate family member…"

"Bones is family," Booth ground out dangerously, but Cullen continued on as if he had not been interrupted.

"…and since it was impossible to separate her from the rest of the group without raising suspicions, she was unfortunately included in the group of people that were informed prematurely of your…er…death."

The room went completely still for a moment, and then Cullen tried his damnedest not to flinch, the twitch in Booth's jaw his only warning to the imminent explosion that could be heard echoing down the hospital corridor.

"She WHAT?!"

Half an hour later, the cell phone on Brennan's desk began to vibrate softly. Standing up and walking around her desk, she picked it up carefully, reading the number on the flashing screen. It wasn't familiar. Setting aside the report she was determinedly working on with a sigh, she flipped the phone open and brought it up to her ear.

"Brennan."

"Bones?"

Brennan's breath caught, a painful jolt shooting up her spine. Distantly, she was aware of her hand going limp, of a weight slipping through her numb fingers, of the clatter of plastic as the phone skittered across the floor. Eyes wide, she stood frozen in place as a crack slowly began to creep across the barrier of numbness she had been meticulously constructing for the past six hours.

Suddenly, her shield shattered and searing heat replaced the cold numbness in her chest. Every muscle in her body trembled as she dove to the floor, snatching up the cell phone and its rectangular battery that had popped out when it hit the ground. She fumbled with the battery, finally fitting it into the back of the phone with a snap before flipping the thing open and hitting the power button.

Fighting to control her trembling fingers, Brennan hastily navigated to the received calls menu and highlighted the first number. 'Please,' she begged silently, unsure of whom she was talking to or even what she was asking for, 'Please.'

The phone rang once, twice…

"Hello?" The voice on the other end croaked anxiously, its rough timbre slamming into her like the waves of the tide. She wet her lips, trying to speak but unable to form the words. "Hello?" The voice asked again, worry apparent despite its coarseness.

Brennan's chest tightened, and she couldn't seem to breathe. Finally she forced her mouth to form the word, to say it. She spoke in a whisper, terrified that once she said his name out loud this illusion would shatter.

"Booth?"

There was a sharp exhale of relief from the other end. "Bones! Thank God." His voice washed over her, sending warm waves of relief crashing over her. Sinking to her knees, Brennan felt the tears she had been holding back all day rush forward, her control instantly crumbling.

Hearing her quiet sobs across the phone, the concern returned to Booth's voice. "Bones? Are you ok?" She couldn't answer; the tears just came faster. The voice softened, somehow managing to sound soothing despite its gravelly texture. "Shh, just breathe, Bones. It's fine, everything is fine."

"Y-you…T-They-" she started, the words tripping over themselves as the jumbled horror of the past few hours came rushing back.

"Shh, it's ok. I'm fine."

"They said you were dead," She breathed, terrified to finally speak the words that had haunted her since the hospital waiting room.

"I'm not." He said the words slowly and clearly, trying to cut through her disbelief and fear. "I'm fine, Bones. I'm not going anywhere."

The tears stopped, a new emotion taking hold as Brennan suddenly found herself lurching to her feet, her knuckles white as they gripped the phone tightly. "Why!" She choked out.

"What-?"

"Why would they do that?! Why would they tell us that? Tell me that?" The fury rose in her chest, and despite her best efforts the tears came again, this time leaving hot and angry trails down her face.

There was silence on the other end of the phone, but she thought she heard a relieved sigh from her partner as he heard her reach a more familiar emotion. Taking a slightly ragged-sounding breath, Booth continued to speak in his reassuring tone.

"It was a mistake, Bones, it was all a mistake." She allowed his words to sink in, grasping desperately to find the logic behind this horrifying situation. "They were never supposed to announce my death until the people on the list were notified, but you guys wouldn't leave and they couldn't tell all of you..."

"The list?" She asked in a numb voice, trying not to betray the confusion and anger warring inside her.

"The list of people I wanted to tell I was alive. You were on it, Bones."

"I was on it," she echoed softly, trying to draw comfort from the words.

"Yes, you were. You were at the top."

"The top?" She asked in the same quiet, unsure voice.

He let out a single, short laugh, and she could almost see him wince as it jarred his abused body. "Well, right below Parker," he admitted sheepishly, and she could hear the telltale smile tug at his mouth. "He had you by this much."

Somewhere deep in her chest, a knot loosened just slightly. She didn't even need to picture him holding his fingers an inch apart, giving her his charm smile. The sound of his voice caused a small, answering smile to pull at her own mouth, and she finally let out the breath she seemed to have been holding for hours.

The partners stayed silent for a moment, enjoying the simple presence of one another across the phone. The comfortable moment was broken by the creak of a mattress followed by a soft hiss of pain. Brennan's heart pulled as she saw the pain on his face through her mind's eye.

"I'm coming over." She said firmly, her voice determined.

Now that he was sure she was all right, the urgency in Booth's voice was gone, replaced by exhaustion. "They probably won't let you in," he sighed, the coarseness of his voice causing her own throat to hurt.

"I don't care, I'm coming."

She could almost hear his tired smile. "Bones, they are trying to flush out a criminal who is supposed to think I'm dead. You can't be seen showing up to the hospital for no reason, it will look suspicious."

She shook her head stubbornly. "I don't-"

"I know you don't care," he interrupted, finishing her sentence. "But the FBI does: they aren't going to let you anywhere near me right now."

The knot was beginning to tighten again, and Brennan had to fight down the mixture of panic and bile that was rising in her throat. She needed to see him, needed to make sure that it had all been a mistake.

"Booth…"

"I know Bones." And she could tell by the tone of his voice that he did know, that he felt the same way. He sighed in frustration. "Just…just talk to Cullen, he'll give you the details."

She wanted to argue, but the tiredness in his voice stopped her. He couldn't have been out of surgery for more than a few hours; this conversation was taking too much out of him.

"Ok," she said softly, trying to push her desperation aside.

He let out a shaky breath, pain creeping into his voice as his body protested the delay of its next round of painkillers. "It'll be over soon, I promise."

Her heart breaking, she knew it was time for her to comfort him. "Shh," she soothed, voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Just sleep, Booth. Give the phone to Cullen, I'll take care of it."

"Bye Bones," he mumbled, the morphine the nurse had just given him beginning to kick in.

As she listened to the crackle of the phone as it was handed over to Cullen, Brennan narrowed her eyes determinedly. 'I'll take care of it,' she repeated silently.

Booth scrunched his eyes against the bright light coming through the hospital window, moving to raise his arm over his face. Realizing too late that he chose the wrong arm, he let out a groan as his shoulder protested angrily.

Taking a deep breath to calm his screaming nerves, he carefully raised his right arm, letting out a sigh as it shielded his sensitive eyes from the sunlight.

"Ah, Agent Booth, you're awake."

"Hn," he grumbled irritably, not bothering to remove the arm. His morphine was wearing off, and his chest was beginning to throb again.

The nurse chuckled at his child-like behavior. "Hang on a moment," she said sympathetically, crossing the room to draw the blinds closed.

"Thanks," he mumbled as the room became blissfully dim, and he cautiously lowered his arm.

The redhead smiled cheerfully at him, the dimple in her right cheek somehow adding sincerity to the expression. "My name is Kate, do you remember?"

"Kate," he repeated, eyebrows furrowing with effort. Getting that sinking feeling in his gut, he looked slightly sheepish. "I accused of being an alien this morning, didn't I?"

"From the Pie Nebula, if I recall correctly," she said with a grin, looking at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. "But in your defense, I was changing your bandages, and I suppose anyone could mistake a cotton swab of antiseptic as a 'intergalactic torture device', right?"

Booth groaned, covering his face in humiliation.

"Oh, don't worry about it hun, I've heard worse," she soothed, somehow managing to laugh at him and still act sympathetic at the same time. "Fortunately for me, we had to take you off the morphine drip for a while so they could transport you. But you'll be back on it before you know it."

"Transport me?"

"That's right," Cullen's voice broke into the conversation as he entered the room. "You're supposed to be dead, remember? Dead people don't take up beds in the hospital."

"I still do not agree with this decision," another voice chimed in, and Booth craned his neck to see the doctor follow Cullen into the room before closing the door firmly behind them. "He has only been out of surgery for nine hours; he should be in bed and on a constant morphine drip for at least another day."

"He will be in bed and on morphine, just not here," Cullen said crossly, his voice making it apparent to Booth that this wasn't the first…or even the fifth…time he'd had this argument. "We have reason to believe that the hospital is being watched. We need to remove him to a more secure location before our man realizes something's up."

The doctor crossed his arms stubbornly. "May I remind you that while the FBI devised this brilliant plan of faking Agent Booth's death, my team of surgeons had a hard time keeping it from becoming a reality. His wounds are serious, and cannot be left unattended yet. He needs to be under medical supervision!"

"And, as I've said, he will be. Arrangements have been made; he'll be under constant supervision, and a doctor will check in on him regularly."

The doctor scowled as he handed over the release forms, lacking the authority to stand up to a Deputy Director of the FBI. "Standardized FBI quarters is not the kind of place he needs right now. Agent Booth needs a quiet, relaxed, comfortable environment to recuperate in. Not to mention how uncomfortable traveling is going to be for him." Turning his eyes to Cullen, the doctor tried to appeal one last time. "He really should stay here."

Cullen ignored the angry man before him, scribbling his signature at the bottom of the sheets. "Booth is a big boy, he can handle a little discomfort until we get him resettled." Thrusting the papers into the doctor's hands, Cullen smiled smugly. "And, for your information, we are not going to an FBI building."

"…going home?" Booth murmured from the bed, the throbbing pain making it hard to concentrate on the conversation.

"Not your house," Cullen admitted, patting the agent's good shoulder comfortingly. He really did care about his people, and had a soft spot for Booth. He was a good man, and Cullen despised seeing him get hurt. "It'll be under surveillance as well. But you're going someplace just as good. Don't worry, it's all been taken care of."

Hm, I wonder where he could possibily be headed...stay tuned for more fluff, but first click the button below and tell me what you think!