After watching "The Future in the Past," I found myself wondering how on earth Booth and Brennan were able to go home and rest, or if they simply went to bed and didn't sleep.

A couple of you kind people requested that I post more — thank you for the encouragement! If you like this one-shot, please check out "First Week Back." It's a seven-part story recounting what could have happened during Brennan's first week home.

(Shout out and thanks to FaithinBones for answering the FF questions I originally posted with this story.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.

Booth sat rigid in the driver's seat, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel, jaw set firm, eyes staring straight ahead. He vaguely heard Brennan's voice, knowing full well she was merely processing out loud and didn't require his full attention.

He raced through the yellow light at the intersection, unwilling to make the trip home any longer. As he caught the next light, he slammed on the brakes, pitching Brennan forward in her seat.

She caught herself with her fingertips on the dashboard, and glanced over at him, suddenly silent.

"Sorry," he huffed.

"It's OK."

He shook his head.

"You're angry. So am I."

"That doesn't mean I've earned the right to drive like an idiot."

She placed one hand on his arm. "You're not driving like an idiot."

They both were silent and she dropped her hand and leaned against her window as the light turned green. They were only a mile from home, but the silence made the few minutes seem like an eternity.

They stepped out of the car, and he unlocked their front door. She followed him inside, greeting the babysitter, who was stationed with a textbook and laptop on their couch.

"How did she do?"

"She's fine. Hasn't woken up at all." The girl handed Brennan the video monitor, and Brennan took a quick look.

"Any phone calls? Hear anyone around the house or outside?" Booth opened the coffee table drawer and picked up the pistol he had left out for the babysitter, going to lock it away in one of the hidden safes.

"No sir. It was quiet. I didn't see anything on the security monitor either." She nodded her head at the TV, where Booth had pulled up the security feed.

"You cleaned our kitchen." Booth noticed the few dishes he had left in the sink were gone, as well as the baking sheet Brennan had left sitting on the counter. "Angela was right — you are the best."

The girl smiled and shrugged, picking up her laptop and book to stand up. "Only took me a minute."

"Thank you." Brennan smiled gratefully. "And thank you for coming on such short notice."

"And at such a late hour." Booth paused. "I can't tell you how much we appreciate it."

"Don't mention it. Give me a call anytime I can help."

Booth nodded. "We will." He reached for his wallet, only to notice Brennan beating him to the job.

The girl immediately protested, "Dr. Brennan, this is too much."

"We called you at nearly midnight on a school night to come watch our daughter for an unspecified length of time, and you came without hesitation. You haven't ever watched Christine before, and you only know us as the crazy coworkers of the Hodgins's who have been in and out of the law's good side for a number of months. Not to mention we probably seem to be paranoid parents, left you with a handgun, and asked you to watch the security feed. Trust me, the money isn't nearly enough."

"You have every right to be careful," the girl answered. "And I was barely here an hour."

"That doesn't matter." Brennan pressed the hundred dollar bill into the girl's hand again. "Please take it. Use it for your studies. Angela tells me you're in architecture — those materials are expensive."

"I appreciate it."

"Thank you again for watching her. This is the first time we've left her with someone who isn't family. I feel quite confident in your abilities."

The girl hid a grin. "Thank you, Dr. Brennan."

"I'll walk you to your car." Booth opened the front door, walking the girl outside. Brennan proceeded up the stairs, leaving on the stairwell light for Booth.

He made sure the babysitter had her car started and moving before he locked the front door behind him and armed the security system. He checked the downstairs rooms and restarted the washing machine, which they had left mid-cycle after Caroline's call had rudely interrupted them. He then went to the kitchen for their customary two glasses of water, watching the security feed as he filled the glasses.

He hesitated, then dumped the water into the sink.

Tonight was definitely not a glass of water night.

Setting down the glasses, he went to the cabinet for two smaller glasses and the bottle of scotch. He placed a few ice cubes in one glass, shut off the TV, and climbed the stairs.

Brennan was still in the bathroom when he came into the bedroom. He set the glasses down, pouring a healthy amount into each. Shedding his t-shirt, button up, pants, and socks, he tossed back a large gulp before pulling down the comforter and settling into bed.

"Aren't you going to come brush your teeth?" Brennan stepped out the bathroom, patting her scrubbed face dry with a towel.

He held up his glass.

"Oh." She nodded, glancing nervously at his hand as he rolled his poker chip in his fingers. "Are you alright?"

He wouldn't look at her, but took a small sip of the scotch, concentrating on his poker chip.

She let out a small sigh, hoping she could put on a brave face and get him to talk. She placed the towel back in the bathroom and turned out the light, leaving only the dim glow of their bedside lamp.

As she sat down, her fingers wrapped around her hem of her oversized t-shirt and pulled, revealing a faint purple tank top. She heard Booth barely give a quick "Mmm" of approval, and she half smiled as she tucked her legs into bed.

He handed her the glass with ice cubes, and she silently accepted, taking a swig of the potent alcohol. They were quiet for a few minutes, until Brennan finally broke the silence.

"I liked Taylor. Did you?"

Booth merely nodded.

"I'll have to thank Angela for the recommendation. She said even Hodgins likes her." She took another sip. "And Hodgins doesn't like everyone."

Booth was quiet, wondering why Brennan was bothering him with the small talk. Taylor had come to them with glowing recommendations: She was the youngest daughter of Hodgins' head of security, had her marksmanship certification, and had an older brother who Booth had helped train at the FBI gym. She had gone to high school with Michelle, and had numerous references and prior nannying experience. She hadn't flinched when Booth left her with a handgun and instructions to monitor the security footage.

While both Booth and Brennan were overprotective and hadn't wanted to leave their daughter, the phone call from Caroline had merited a need for Taylor that night. They had no one else to leave Christine with — Angela and Hodgins lived too far away. Sweets was headed into the office to do more profiling. Caroline was obviously already at the office. Max had temporarily vanished — and frankly, Booth still didn't trust him.

"I'm … surprised I was able to leave her with a stranger," Brennan admitted quietly, breaking Booth's thoughts.

"Me too."

Her eyes begin to fill with more unshed tears, and she wondered why Booth was so quiet. Couldn't he see she was hurting? She swallowed another large gulp of the chilled scotch, the alcohol burning her throat and eyes.

Booth had finished his and was pouring a second. He turned to top off Brennan's glass.

"You're angry."

He looked up from the scotch to see her eyes, gleaming with tears.

"You don't want to be in bed with me."

God, what was she thinking?

Before he could get a word out, she had opened her mouth again. "Booth, I'm so sorry. Please, just don't make sleep alone tonight. I can't do it tonight."

He set his glass down with thud on his nightstand, careful not to knock off the gun resting there. He grabbed her free arm tightly. "What the hell makes you think I would do that?"

"You're angry with me."

"I am not angry with you." He tossed his poker chip against the wall, watching it skid across the floor. "I am angry about tonight. I am angry that your first night back home is ruined because of that bastard. I am angry we had to leave our daughter here at midnight only to find out that all your hard work hasn't put Pelant away for good. I am angry …"

She interrupted, placing one finger over his lips. "Is this helping?"

"Yes."

She withdrew her finger, sliding her hand to his chest and laying her head down. "Continue."

Booth continued on with his list of grievances for another two minutes, finishing with, "I'm angry we're not finished with him."

Had she not placed her head on his chest, Booth wouldn't have noticed her silent sob — but he felt it. His heart sank, and he immediately reached for her.

"Bones. Baby, I'm sorry. I'm being selfish." He felt tears on his bare chest, and he cupped her face to pull her up to him. "I'm not angry with you," he assured her, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

She nodded tearfully. "But I'm sorry."

"Stop." He kissed her forehead. "No more apologies, OK? You're forgiven."

"Doesn't mean I'm not sad," she whispered.

"About having left?"

"About everything. About Pelant ruining our night. About this not being over."

"You're sad and I'm angry." He stroked her hair. "We make quite the pair."

She sniffled, letting out a bitter laugh. "Yeah."

"It'll get better."

"You don't know that."

He sighed. "Yeah, I do. We'll get him. And we'll get back to normal." He felt her lips gently press a kiss to his chest. "Feel better?"

"A little." She brought her glass back to her lips. "Good idea with this."

"Figured we both might need a little help sleeping tonight." He eyed her glass. "Need more?"

"No, thank you." She glanced at the alarm clock. "I'd prefer not to be hung over when I'm up with Christine in five hours."

"Five?" Booth grimaced.

"Six if we're lucky."

"I'll get up with her."

"No, I can …"

"You've been able to do it for the past three months. I'd love to get up and feed her breakfast."

Brennan pressed a kiss to Booth's throat. "I'm sorry I took that away from you."

"Seriously, stop it." Booth's tone became stern. "I mean it. No more apologies."

"I took so much away from you," Brennan's tearful voice trailed off as Booth interrupted her with a searing kiss. He was rough, grabbing one wrist and fisting her hair with his other hand, possessively capturing her lips, still cold from the chilled scotch.

She returned the kiss, sensing his desperation, but not reciprocating as strongly. He gradually let go of her wrist and released her lips, exhaling.

"That was selfish." He kissed her once more, lightly and sweetly. "But I didn't know how else to get you to stop apologizing."

She gave him a tearful smile.

"Bones, tell me what you need tonight."

She knew he had pent up anger and frustration, and she knew exactly how he'd prefer to use it. But she couldn't handle all of that just now.

"Bones?"

She wiped her eyes.

"Baby, I'm not pressuring you into anything."

"I know," she murmured.

He finished off his drink and settled down on the bed, letting his head hit the pillow. "Come here."

She joined him, laying her head and one hand on his chest. His arms encircled her before he remembered he had to turn off the lamp.

"This what you need?" He stroked her hair lightly in the darkness, rubbing circles with his other hand on her back. He felt her nod into his chest. "I'm right here, baby. Tell me what you want."

"Hold me."

His lips sought out her forehead in the darkness, and he pressed a firm kiss to her clean skin. "All night. I'm not going anywhere."

For the next hour, he rubbed her back, stroking up and down her spine with one hand, other arm firmly wrapped around her. He periodically wiped her eyes, pressed kisses to her forehead, and whispered consolations to her.

"It's OK to be sad."

"I hate it," she whispered bitterly, tears streaming from her cheeks to his chest.

"Just get it all out. You'll feel better tomorrow."

She appreciated his selflessness. "Thank you for not …" She trailed off, trying to get her words together. "Thank you for being considerate."

Booth's brow furrowed in the darkness. "Huh?"

"Tomorrow, I want to pick up where we left off tonight." She could almost sense him trying to process what she was saying. "Washing machine? Before the phone call?" Pressed close to him, she felt his face twitch and break into a smile. "And the light bulb comes on."

"Hey now." He kissed her cheek. "It's been a long day. Cut me some slack."

It was silent for a few moments until she nervously asked, "You do want to pick up where we left off, right?"

"Bones," he groaned, tightening his grip around her. "Seriously?" He began to plant kisses on her throat, working his way up until he found her lips. His hands moved up, cupping her face as he kissed her lips in a frenzy, his zeal catching both of them a little off guard.

After a minute, she broke away with a gasp, sniffling and letting out a half laugh. "OK, OK!"

"Sorry."

"Tomorrow," she promised, pressing a light kiss to his throat before she tucked her head under his chin.

He agreed, letting his arms return to their former position around her waist. "Tomorrow."

Anyone else think I'm crazy for having them leave Christine with a babysitter? I just started writing, and that's what came to mind … but I don't think they'd ever do it, especially on their first night back!

Thank you for reading. I enjoy reviews, and I will visit your profile and return the favor!