Wow, it's been a while since I've posted. I've had a lot going on in my life, so forgive me.

We're back with another in the Inspired Series. Bones belongs to someone else (i.e. Fox, etc.)...ditto with the song (Rascal Flatts).

Booth stalked around the corner, his footfalls silent against the concrete floor. The expression on his face was one of complete determination, and the three agents assigned to his team followed him cautiously through the abandoned factory. They had heard stories about this particular agent and the lengths he would go to for a certain forensic anthropologist, and the fact that she had been drugged and kidnapped by the suspect in their latest case probably didn't bode well for the poor sap they were about to bust in on.

"Tac Team One in position," Booth whispered in his comm as he took up a stance just outside the main door.

"Copy that, Tac Team One…hold position until my signal." The voice of the mission leader came back softly in their ears. Jennings, Booth's wingman for this mission, took in his teammates' face and caught Booth's eye. He could see the steadfast resolve, but past that he could also see anger and fear brimming just underneath the surface. Jennings gave the man what he hoped was a reassuring nod.

Sounds began seeping through the door, and they all stopped their minute motions to listen closely.

"…never…be here…good shot…" They could hear Brennan's voice sounding firm and defiant, and Jennings spared a small smile at her tenacity. Her attitude was legendary with the bureau, and most agents gave Booth a lot of respect for sticking with her for so long. The smile vanished instantly as the distinct sound of something heavy connecting with flesh and a woman's pained yell reverberated through the hallway. Without warning, Booth jumped into action. Jennings barely had time to react as the man across from him kicked through the door and aimed his MP5 only once. Jennings followed but was immediately deemed unnecessary as Booth fired three shots, completely disarming and immobilizing his enemy. There was commotion on the other end of the comm as the mission leader scrambled to figure out what was going on, and the other two men in Booth's unit cleared the rest of the room as Jennings reported back.

Booth had already made his way over to where Brennan was bound to a large steam pipe. There was a large gash on her head, and blood was trickling down her right arm from the injury she'd received as the suspect had tied her up. With his MP5 slung on his back, he reached around her and cut the rope binding her. Her arms immediately went around him and he held onto her for a moment as they both came down from their adrenaline highs. He supported her out of the building with one arm around her waist and other holding her arm across his shoulders.

After answering several questions and receiving a thorough tongue-lashing from the mission leader, Booth was free to follow his partner to the hospital. By the time he got there, however, he learned she'd already checked herself out and presumably gone home. Shaking his head at her stubbornness, he quickly made his way to her apartment. He knocked, but judging from the music blaring through the door, Booth doubted if she could even hear him. But she surprised him yet again as the music stopped and she unbolted her door, opening it slightly.

"Booth, what are you doing here?"

"What, I can't check in on you? I just wanted to see how you were doing." She opened the door fully and let him in, allowing him full view of her chosen activity.

"Scrap booking? Bones, seriously?" He moved over to the coffee table where she had albums laid open and dozens of photos strewn about.

"I find it an effective way of recording and cataloguing the events of my life," she offered in way of explanation. He sat down next to her on the couch and swiped one of the photos from the table.

"I remember this," he said. "Angela took this one right after you were taken by Kenton. God, we both got the crap kicked outta us, didn't we?" She snatched the photo from his hand and scowled.

"Yeah, well at least you got blown up." He furrowed his brow, now completely confused at her tone, and turned to face her. She stood up quickly and he could see just from her body posture how aggravated she was.

"Bones, I know I don't generally get half the things you say on a daily basis, but you're making absolutely no sense right now." When she didn't turn to face him, he stood up and walked behind her. She, of course, didn't realize this and whirled to face him quickly, only to stumble backwards at his unexpected proximity. He reached out to steady her, but she just scowled harder.

"When did this happen, Booth? When did I become this damsel in duress that you have to save all the time?"

"I'm very sure no one thinks of you as a damsel in distress," he said, gliding by her faux pas with practiced ease. "And it's not like it's every day, Bones. I can count on one hand the number of times I've had to rescue you. Usually, you do a pretty good job of taking care of yourself." His words didn't seem to appease her at all, and she tossed the photo down on the coffee table as she stormed passed him into her bedroom. She slammed the door, warning him not to follow. He sighed heavily and sat back on the couch, putting his head in his hands.

If he was being totally honest with himself, he'd have to admit he'd been scared out of his mind today. He hadn't felt fear like this since the Gravedigger, and even then he'd known his deadline. Not knowing whether or not she was even alive and at the mercy of a complete lunatic scared the hell out of him.

He could see where she was coming from, if he thought about it enough. First Kenton, then the Gravedigger, and those were just the major ones. He'd saved her life several times throughout their three year partnership, but she couldn't possibly think…

His train of thought trailed off as he stared at her closed door. She was all about equality, harmony, things balancing out; neither of them greater than the other. He could just see the gears in her head whirring around the notion that she hadn't saved him nearly as many times as he'd saved her, and he knew that thought ate at her. Looking around, he searched for anything that would help him get through to her and his eyes fell on a blank legal pad sitting on a side table. He crossed over and grabbed it quickly, fishing the pen from his pocket and settling back down on the couch.

She didn't emerge from her room as he wrote down his thoughts. He quickly folded the piece of paper and wrote her name – her given name – on the outside before setting it down on the coffee table. He quickly moved over to the door, listening for any sign of life from within. When he heard nothing, he knocked softly.

"Bones, listen, I'm going to head out now, because I know you want to sit and over-think this. But do me a favor…read the note on the table when you feel up to it. And call me if you need anything." She didn't respond, but he heard someone rustling around on the bed so he took what he could get and left her apartment.

Ten minutes later she emerged in sweatpants and an old t-shirt of Russ'. After making sure Booth was indeed gone, she crossed to the table and lifted his note from the pile of scrap booking materials there. Her hands were only shaking slightly as she opened the note and read.

Temperance,

Right now, if I know you, you're in room thinking the hell out of this. And I know exactly how your brilliant mind works. You're thinking about all the times I've saved your life in the course of three years, and trying to compare that to the one time you rescued me from Gallagher.

She smiled a little at how well he knew her, and continued reading.

But what you don't know, what I don't tell you, are the things I probably should – the things I take for granted. You're the first person, outside my immediate family, who I've opened up to about my past, and even my mother doesn't know the whole story. She doesn't want to, I think…she likes to believe I was just another soldier out there.

But you've seen me at my lowest, broken down…and you are a comfort to me. Sometimes the places I go in my mind are so deep and dark, I'm desperate. I drive myself crazy trying to stay out of my own way, to try and not let my past interfere with my present. You could have – and probably should have – bowed out gracefully, left well enough alone…but you didn't. I'm safe with you, Temperance, my secrets are safe, and you're the only one in this whole world that gets me.

She stared, amazed, at the words her partner had written. She'd had no idea he was so articulate, and she couldn't help the swell of emotions that his words were eliciting from her.

Sometimes I don't know if I'm coming or going, but you always know just what to say, even if you don't realize you're saying it. I love being around you…it makes my whole day better. You are my best friend, my confidante, my touchstone…and I thank you for letting me in, for letting me be your friend. That means more to me than anything, and I hope you know you can come to me for anything at all, no questions asked.

So think of it this way…every time I bust into a warehouse, or shoot a bad guy trying to hurt you, or pull you out of a quarry just in time, I'm paying off my debt to you, no matter how impossible that is. I'm glad you are my friend. And for the rest of my life I'll be glad to be yours.

Seeley

She blinked back the tears that were forming in her eyes as she folded his letter. Never had such few paragraphs affected her so much. She couldn't recall a time in her life when she'd had a friend quite like Seeley Booth. Angela was her best girl friend – a person to take her shopping, gossip inanely about boys, or complain about work. But Booth…she smiled at the thought of his charm smile and his odd way of always knowing exactly what she was feeling at any given time. He was her best friend, the one that kept her grounded in an insane world, the one who'd opened her up to so many things, the one who'd taught her how to trust again.

Without thinking, her hand found the phone and dialed his number automatically. He picked up the phone but didn't say anything, knowing she needed to be the one to start the conversation. But when she opened her mouth, only one thing came out.

"Can I come over?" She could practically hear his smile on the other end.

"Absolutely." And he hung up. Her heart started racing as she changed into jeans and a loose t-shirt. She had never really been good at the emotional stuff – that was why she was such a good scientist. But as she drove to her partner's place, she couldn't help but remember his words and feel that surge swell within her again. She tried to gather her thoughts, to come up with words to reply to his heartfelt message to her. But nothing would come and she heard the little voice in her head (the one that sounded strangely like Booth) telling her that she'd know what to say when the time was right and she should just trust her instincts.

She knocked on his door lightly, but he was obviously waiting for her as it unlocked immediately and swung open. She paused on the threshold, taking in his casual appearance. He'd changed out of his work suit and put on a pair of faded jeans and a slightly fitting green t-shirt. His St. Christopher medal was hanging on the outside, and he was smiling softly at her as he gestured for her to enter. She took a few steps in and allowed him to shut the door behind her before she voiced her first question.

"Did you mean it?" There was no question as to what she was referencing.

"Every word," he replied simply.

"Do I really –"

"Every day, Bones…every day you save my life." She stepped closer to him as he opened his arms for a guy hug, and she gladly accepted this one without hesitation. And she found that, for once, she knew exactly what he meant.