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Brennan took several deep breaths, and then ran out of teh bathroom, grabbing her jacket and shoes on her way out. She felt as if she could throw up at any moment, but she had to find Booth.

She kenw the consequences if she didn't.

She ran down the hotel stairs and into the lobby. It was empty, the receptionist in bed. No-one was meant to be awake at this hour.

There was no-one she could ask for help, no-one to support her if she doubled over, sick.

She ran out of the double doors and into the cold London air. Her mind brought a flashback of the dark alleys in her dream, with fog swirling around her. Well, there was fog everywhere.

But how much would she have to run, pointlessly searching, to find him?

She ran up to a random man on the street. He was old, a tobacco pipe held in his mouth.

"Excuse me, but where is the closest 24 hour store?" she asked desperately.

"Why?" The man wheezed, blowing smoke into her face.

"Please, sir, how far?"

"Down this street."

"Thankyou."

She kept running, the breath wheezing from her lungs. She could see the flashing lights up ahead, and she began to run faster, with a purpose, knowing her destination.

She reached the store, the name above zapping on and off. She walked inside, but couldn't see Booth anywhere. She ran to the counter.

"Excuse me?" she asked the man behind the window. "Did a man come in here in the past 5 minutes, muscular jaw, wearing a white T-shirt?"

The man had to think. "I don't recall, but I'm tired – I can't remember 30 seconds ago. I'm sorry."

Great, a man with no clue of anything.

Brennan ran out of the store, running blankly, searching everywhere. Where was Booth? She hadn't passed him on the way down. She could feel her stomach begin to heave again. Oh no, not now! She thought.

She found herself beside a park. She walked inside, taking deep breaths. She sat on the swings, slowly moving back and forth. She couldn't breath, and felt as though she could pass out at any moment. She moved over to the bushes and threw up.

She had to get back to the apartment. Booth could be anywhere, but she didn't want to risk running around at this time of night. That speech she had made to Booth was real – London was more dangerous then America.

She slowly began to walk back to the hotel. She hoped that Booth wasn't lying, beaten, on the ground in some unknown alley. She would never forgive herself if he was, but she was in no fit condition to find him.

She was already feeling very weak, her bones tumbling like jelly, threatning to collapse under her at any moment. The lack of food in her stomach made her vision blurry. She really wanted a cold drink of water.

She made it back to the Grand Hotel. It was still silent inside. She crept upstairs, hoping to open the door to a snoring Booth.

But instead she opened the door to pain and despair. The room was empty. Clothes were strewn about in their unpacked state. Brennan walked over and picked up one of Booth's shirts, hugging it to her chest.

She poured herself a glass of water, Booth staying in her mind. She managed to hold down some free cashew nuts. She began to feel a bit stronger. She walked over to the couch and lay down, trying to close her eyes and fall asleep, waking up to a smiling Booth making eggs for her.

But sleep wouldn't come, not with the thought of Booth out there alone.

So she got up again, taking the time to put on some jeans and a clean shirt with some lace-up, more convenient running shoes. She tucked a water bottle into her belt.

She was ready. She set out, ready to search for Booth once more. She spotted a flashlight next to the door, adn thought it best to carry that, too.

Outside, the morning wasn't getting any lighter. The street was eerily quiet. The smoking man was gone, the pavement deserted and empty.

She began to run. She turned her head in every direction, hoping to see Booth, spot him lurking behind a corner, hiding from her, safe and healthy. Every creak or groan she feared was from her partner.

She ran into all the stores that were open, asking whether they had seen Booth, but none had. She ran into a souvenier shop, desperately hoping he was in their, searching for a gift for Parker.

And there he was. His back to her, muscles rippling. He was holding something in his hands.

Brennan almost crid with relief. She ran into the aisle, running up, and hugging him from behind.

She prayed that it definately was him and not an unknown stranger.

But he turned at the feel of the hug. He smield when he saw her.

"Hey, Bones!"

"What are you doing here?" She gasped. Her breath was choked from running.

"Well, I got your medication, and then I saw this!" He held up a plastic container. Brennan tried to stifle a grin. It was another Bobble-Head Bobby, wearing a firemans outfit.

"I mean, I already have the police-force one, but I wanted to make a collection!"

He was grinning like a maniac. He had no idea how much Brennan had searched for him.

"I was so worried. I thought you'd been beaten."

Booth lowered his eyebrows. "Why'd you think that? Didn't you think I could take care of myself?"

"No, of course I did! I just....had this feeling."

"Huh." He was still curious and unsure of her answer.

"I'm just glad you're safe. I've been running around everywhere trying to find you."

He grinned. "You missed me, huh?"

Yes. "No, I was worried. These streets aren't safe." She began to shiver, though whether form the thought of his close fate or the cold she couldn't tell.

Botoh looked on her in concern. "We better get back, give you some medicine, get some sleep. If you want we can stay in the apartment tomorrow, go sightseeing another day?"

"No. Look, we'll work it out there."

Booth bought the bobble-head and they walked out onto the street. Brennan was shivering uncontrolably. Booth wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She huddled into his chest, trying to stay warm.

She heard a commotion behind them. She turned, and saw a gang coming towards them. Booth gently prised off Brennan's hands and turned to the group.

"Who's this chick you got?" the presumed 'leader' asked.

"She's mine. Now clear off. I'm good friends with Scotland Yard and could have you reported."

"Aw, we're cool, brother. But damn that's a nice chick."

Brennan desperately wanted to punch him in the face, but Booth held her back.

"Booth! I can look after myself."

"Want to come home with me, little lady? I'm better then this hunk."

Booth moved to punch the guy, but Brennan was quicker. She hit him square in the nose. He doubled over, bleeding.

Brennan turned and began to walk back to the hotel. All the other guys in the group whislted, howling for her to stay. It took all her focus not to turn around and pummel all of them.

They returned to the hotel room, sinking back onto their beds. Booth fell asleep immediately, loudly snoring.

Brennan closed her eyes, darkness enclosing her being, feeling comforted know she knew that Booth was safe.

Dreams flashed in her brain. It was the same dream as before, without the fog. The dream was sharper, more focused. And this time she found she could talk.

"Booth!" she screamed out as he was beaten. "Booth, run! Run away, Booth!"

Booth looked up, barely acknowledging her call.

"Booth!" she cried out, but her sound was drowned out by some unknown whistling.

Suddenly Booth was beside her. He hugged her, held her close. She felt safe.

And then she woke up. Booth was beside her on her bed, his arms around her.

"Booth, what are you doing?"

"Are you okay, Bones?" his face was pale, scared.

"I'm fine."

"You were crying out. My name. What's wrong, Bones?"

Should she tell him?

"Nothing," she whispered. "Just a bad dream."

I really hope it wasn't a boring chapter. Please give me ideas, people! Mine are failing! this is a pointless chapter, and probably isnt worthy to put in. any ideas for where this story should go, please tell me. thanks for reading