A/N: Like another story here on the site (100 Moments in the Life of Dr. Temperance Brennan), this story will be a collection of one-shots touching on a list of 100 basic themes or phrases. The list was actually posted on another site, and I'll be posting these short essays there as well. Please feel free to let me know what you think. Even if you think it stinks.

PAIN

Special Agent Seeley Booth walked purposefully towards Doctor Brennan's office. In his hand, he carried his final report of this last case the two had worked together. As he got closer to the office, he noticed the door was closed and the lights had been turned off. His anger seemed to surge with every step he took.

"What's this?" he thought angrily. "She harangues me about getting my report over to her so she can review it for consistency with hers, and now she's not even here?"

He knew he wasn't really mad at her, per se. The argument he had just endured with Rebecca was the root cause of his attitude; now bordering on rage. She wanted to trade weekends with him so that she and Brent could take Parker to some fair in Pennsylvania this weekend. That meant that he would be alone this weekend, with nothing to do. He reasoned with Bones out of her office, this would be a good time to vent his frustrations.

He grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. With much more force than could ever have been necessary. The door hit its backstop and vibrated loudly as he strode towards her desk. Standing beside the desk he slammed the file folder down with an overhand smash.

Still luxuriating in the sound of the vibrating door, he was startled to hear a small voice, "What…who's there?"

It was Bones' voice, but it wasn't her normal, strong, and truth be told, sensual voice. To Booth, it sounded pained. He softly moved around the desk to see, in the diffuse light filtering through her glass walls, she struggled to sit up on her couch. "Bones? Is that you?" he said with concern.

Realizing it was Booth, she groaned weakly, "Of course it's me. Who else?" And then, pushing her hair back from her face, "What are you doing here, Booth?"

He turned, looking like he had just gotten caught stealing cookies, and meekly pointed to the file on her desk, "You said you needed my report so you could close out your books."

Brennan laid back down with a moan. Weakly she said, "Thanks, Booth. I'll get to it later," her hands worked the edge of the comforter; scrunching it up into a ball and then twisting the fabric.

Booth could see the pain she was trying to endure. "What's wrong?"

She murmured softly, as though trying to minimize the pain, "Headache."

"Migraine?" Booth asked, surprised. She had never given any indications before that she suffered from migraines.

"No," she answered, obviously wishing the conversation was over so she could go back to trying to put the pain out of her mind.

"Did you take some aspirin, or Tylenol, or whatever your preferred pain-reliever is?"

"Yes," she said impatiently. "A couple of hours ago."

"Maybe you should go see a Doctor," Booth said, moving closer to her.

He saw her shake her head, "I can't drive like this."

He reached down towards her, "I'll take you," he said.

Shaking her head again, she raised her hand, waving Booth away. "I can hardly open my eyes. The light is too strong." She opened her eyes. When she saw that Booth hadn't moved, she closed them again. "Please go," she said with great effort. "I'll be okay."

Booth knelt before her. He reached out and laid his left arm alongside her on the couch. Resting part of his weight on his arm, he reached out with his right hand and gently began stroking her forehead with his thumb and forefinger.

Startled by his closeness and his touch, Brennan shook her head, "What…what are you doing?"

"Shhhh," Booth said. Softly, he said, "Just try to relax." He began gently stroking her forehead between her eyes again. He could feel her resistance at first. Moving his fingers along her forehead, he could see her slowly begin to relax. With a shudder, her breathing evened out.

He gently slid his fingers down the bridge of her nose to its tip, and then back again. She was amazed at the gentleness of his touch. The pain seemed to be subsiding. He gently slid his fingers towards her temple and laid his palm on her forehead. And then slid the fingers back, raising his palm from her skin, until only his fingertips rested upon her. He began to slowly move his fingertips in a gently circular motion on her forehead.

"This really is amazing," she thought. "Where did he learn how to do this?" She exhaled softly as she released the fabric of the comforter and reached out for his arm resting beside her. She slid one hand into his, the other rested upon his arm; her hand clutching his forearm where it joined his elbow. She wondered how long he intended to do this. "I really should have him stop now,' she thought. And then, "Maybe just a few moments more." She smiled.

When Booth could see her smile, and he could feel her entire body relax on the couch as he continued the effleurage, he knew she was having the desired effect. Seeing her closed eyes, he smiled in response.

After a few moments, Booth didn't know how many; he wasn't counting, Brennan's breathing became slow and regular. "She's asleep," he smiled. He stopped the massage and looked at her in the dim light. Her hands still rested clutching him. He thought of the old children's saying, "If 'ifs' and 'buts' were candy and nuts…" Moving slowly, he disentangled his arm from her. She moved gently and softly sighed, Booth held his breath, but she didn't open her eyes. He quietly and gently rearranged her comforter.

A crazy thought came to him. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. The feel and taste of her exploded in his brain. He leaned back, her aroma still in his nostrils, his lips still remembering hers. Looking at her sleeping, so peaceful, so beautiful, he wished he were brave enough to kiss her when she was awake. He cursed his cowardice, his acceptance of stealing kisses in the dark as enough. But the taste of her on his mouth, the memory of her lips on his, the touch of her hand within his, was enough for him. For now.

He stood up and moved to the end of the couch. He looked down at her, lying on her side, facing away from him. He didn't see her eyes open. Bright and awake. She felt no pain. Only a comforting warmth. She pulled her lips between her teeth, tasting them with her tongue, hoping to savor him again. She closed her eyes and softly sighed as her body sank deeper into the couch. Booth softly said, "Sweet Dreams," as he quietly left the room.