The words 'bad day' didn't even begin to cover it.

I woke up late because the power had gone out the night before and my alarm didn't go off. With two hours sleep maximum, I was not in a good mood. In an attempt to get out of bed quickly I tripped and fell flat on my face. Scrambling upright I ran into the bathroom for a quick shower before heading to work. And of course, the water heater was off because of the power-outage so the water was ice cold. I finally managed to get dressed without major injury, and stumbled out the door half an hour late.

My car broke down on the way to work, and I ended up leaving the smoking hunk of metal and walking the rest of the way. It was only about 15 blocks. In the rain.

Halfway there a car drove by me, hit a puddle, and soaked me from head to foot. I grumbled and walked on, trying to think of what hadn't happened to me today. I didn't count on the dog.

He was a big, ugly mutt. Snarling at me from underneath a bench, I figured if I just walked by he wouldn't bother me. I was wrong. As soon as I passed by his bench, the mutt jumped out and grabbed my leg. I let out a yelp of pain and fell, hitting the ground hard. I must have landed on his tail though, because he took off like a shot once I hit the ground. Pulling out my cell phone I dialed Booth but he didn't pick up.

I limped into my office an hour later, swearing and muttering, wincing with every other step, and looking like I had been run over by a freight train. Falling into my desk chair, I started to root around in my desk for some sort of bandage for the bite on my leg. Finding none, I sighed and let my head fall back, leg throbbing. I felt like I was going to cry. Dam hormones. Opening one eye, I glanced at my calender, and saw that it was the 16th. Great. That time of the month again.

"Hey Bones!" the shout echoed through my ears and I groaned. A cheery Booth waltzed into my office, coffee in hand. He stopped short at the sight of me. "What happened to you?" he asked, taking in my dripping wet clothes and disheveled look. I mumbled something incoherent, and pulled myself upright. I was limping in the direction of the staffroom for a bandage when his arm stopped me.

"What happened to your leg, Bones?" asked Booth, concern thick in his voice. I swayed slightly in response, and grabbed onto Booth's arm for support. Blood loss causes dizziness. Glancing down at my leg, I saw that it was cut up pretty bad, and bleeding all over the place.

"Dog" I grunted and turned to walk away, but Booth stopped me again.

"Go sit down, I'll get something for your leg." I didn't have the strength to argue, so I walked over and slumped onto the couch.

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"Bones." The voice was coming from somewhere close. Having dozed off, I was still suspended in dream-land, and was reluctant to wake. A two-week-long case, and the same amount of time without a full night's sleep will do that to you.

"Please, Bones. Wake up for me!" Someone shook me lightly. "Come on Temperance, open your eyes." My eyes snapped open and I sat bolt upright. I was instantly dizzy from the movement, so I closed my eyes and moaned, leaning forward and burying my face in the first thing I came in contact with. That thing was Booth's chest. Sitting back up with a yelp, I scrambled away from him while mumbling apologies.

Glancing down at my leg, I saw that the wound was cleaned and wrapped in gauze. I was still in my office, and Booth was sitting on my couch, a smile on his face. I looked into his eyes and could also see his concern for me.

"Do you know who killed them?" I asked, pulling my hair up in a ponytail. Our current case involved a killer who liked to shoot his victims multiple times until they died. He targeted women, any age.

"I do. The team on surveillance found his hideout last night and arrested him. I was going to bring you when I went to interrogate, but it looks like you're incapacitated." He said, grinning.

I rolled my eyes at him, and crossed my arms in front of me defensively. "I'm not incapacitated. And if you give me a gun, I would actually be able to defend myself from vicious dogs."

"I'm your gun! Come on, let's go."

"Booth! You weren't my gun this morning! I called you right after I was attacked, and you didn't pick up! This was a situation when I needed a gun!"

"Bones, I'm sorry I didn't pick up. My phone was dead." He looked sincere, but I didn't want to forgive him so easily. I was hormonal and emotional and I wanted to punch something.

Sighing, I glanced up at him, putting on my best it's-not-you-its-me look. I just didn't feel like talking, so I gestured that we should leave.

He waited patiently for me to hobble along behind him. I could tell he was taking shorter strides so that I could keep up. How can this man be so nice to me?

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When we got to the parking lot I told him I was driving. In response he backed me into the side of his SUV, trapping me, and simply said 'With that leg?'. All I could do was glare. I knew he was right, but that didn't stop me from putting up a fight.

I crossed my arms in front of me again, stood up as straight as I could with a mangled leg, and stared strait into Booth's big chocolate brown puppy dog eyes. If he uses his charm smile on me, I'm a goner.

My leg was going to give out, and so I instinctively leaned against him for support. He smirked, knowing he'd won. I let out a sigh, leaned my forehead against his chest, and closed my eyes. I was so tired. It felt good just to be near him, to drink in the comfort and warmth he radiated.

He wrapped his arms around me in a hug, and I sank into his embrace. With all the stress from the case... I could barely stay on my feet. His chin rested on top of my head and large hand was at the base of my neck keeping me upright, the other roamed my back in comforting circles. I wrapped my arms around him and clutched the back of his shirt.

"What he did to those women... I just..." I mumbled into his chest.

"Shhhh. I know, Bones. Trust me, I know how you feel. It's going to be ok, we got him now." He looked down at me and without a word reached over and opened the passenger's door, gently pushing me towards it. "It will feel better once we get a confession. It always does."

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I watched Booth and the rookie, Jameson, interrogate the man who had killed all those women. He refused to speak, except for demanding to speak to me. He wanted to meet me in person, but Booth was having nothing of it. After a solid hour of talking to air, Booth stalked out of the room and grabbed a cup of coffee. I sidled up to him at the coffee maker and tried to argue my case.

"I could talk to him, you know. You'd be in the room, Mr. Testosterone, to make sure I was ok." All I got was a glare.

"Come on, Booth! I can do this! Just let me go in there, I'll see what he wants, and then we can go to the diner and get some apple pie. Sound good?" I could see him giving in.

My suspicions were confirmed when he smiled at me and asked, "With ice cream?"

"With ice cream." I answered, hand on the door handle to the interrogation room.

"Let's do this." He answered.

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I walked into the little room, doing my best to keep the limp out of my step. Booth supported me with his hand on my back, and I leaned into him more than necessary.

"Dr. Brennan!" the man exclaimed. "How nice to meet you!" I sat down in the strait backed chair across from him. The cuffs clanked on the metal table as he laced his fingers together thoughtfully and gazed at me.

"What do you want?" I asked bitterly.

"I want you dead, Dr. Brennan." Then without warning he lunged at Jameson, wrenched the rookie's gun from his grip, and shot me in the shoulder.

Now I was pissed.

Adrenaline coursed through me as I threw my body over the metal table at the man, tackling him. We rolled around on the floor, me trying to get the gun out of his grip, him trying to smash my head into the floor. Jameson was yelling, Cullen had just run into the room, and Booth was attempting to break up the scuffle between the man and me.

Finally, I managed to get the gun out of his grip. The man punched me in the face, and I stumbled backwards into the wall. Jumping back towards him with a snarl, I smashed my hand into his nose, breaking it. He crumpled to the floor, and I was still trying punch him again. I felt Booth's arms around me, pulling me off the man.

Swearing, cussing, and attempting to get back to punch the man again, I didn't even realize I had been shot in the shoulder until Booth pressed a damp cloth up against the wound. I yelped as the pain in my shoulder hit me full force, and my leg gave out. For the second time that day I found myself cradled in Booth's arms. I gritted my teeth against the pain and buried my face in his neck, whimpering softly.

Booth picked me up and carried me to where the EMT's were dealing with the man's bloody, broken nose. I clung to him, not wanting to let go. They tried to pry me off him to treat my shoulder, but instinct told me to hold on. In Booth's arms, I was safe.

"Shhh. It's ok, Bones. You have to let go. We have to treat your shoulder. I'll be right here, just let go. It's ok." He soothed, one hand stroking my hair, the other holding the cloth against my bleeding shoulder. I loosened my grip slightly, and allowed the paramedics to treat my shoulder. I kept my face buried in Booth's neck the whole time, not wanting to face the pain.

Once they were done with my shoulder, I wrapped my arms around Booth's neck and he carried me to his office. He needed to pick up some files and then he was taking me home. I didn't trust my leg to hold me up so I didn't put up a fight with his 'Alpha Maleness'. Besides, even though I wouldn't admit it, it felt good to be in his arms.

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I must have dozed off somewhere between the interrogation room and Booth's office, because when I woke up I was on a bed. Looking around, I realized I was at Booth's bedroom. I was just sitting up and gingerly stretching my shoulder and leg when Booth walked in looking sexy as hell. Did I just say that?

He was wearing form-fitting Levi's held up by a rather large belt buckle. (I don't understand the significance of the rooster that was standing on top of the word 'Cocky'. I guess, as Angela would say, it's a guy thing.) His worn-out, gray Cape Cod Tee-shirt fit him perfectly and he was carrying a mug of coffee.

"Rise and shine, babe, it's Saturday." I shot him the death glare. "Ok, so you're not a morning person. Want some coffee?" He held out the mug teasingly. I groaned and got out of bed. I had a large white Tee-shirt on, and luckily, my underwear. I raised my eyebrows at him and then looked down at the shirt. "About that..." Booth started to say. I could tell he was flustered, and I decided to tease him a bit. It was fun to make him squirm.

"Should I even ask what happened to my clothes?" I ask, watching as Booth ran a hand through his already disheveled hair nervously.

"Well, I... I.. umm... your shirt was all bloody from your shoulder, so I..I just, you know... I didn't look, I swear..." I got up, walked over to the rambling Agent, and put a finger on his lips.

"I get it, Booth. It's ok. Thank you." I took the coffee from him and half sauntered, half limped into his living room. I could feel Booth's eyes on me, and I looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. He was standing in the exact same position I had left him in, a dazed expression on his face.

Walking into his kitchen, I began rooting around for something to eat. I reached out to open the fridge, and ended up pulling my arm back with a yelp. Booth was at my side in seconds.

"Are you ok?"

I whimpered something incoherent as I held a hand over my wound. "Are you sure it didn't need stitches?" I finally got out.

"The doc said the bullet just grazed your shoulder-"

"Just grazed my ass, it feels like someone stuck a hot poker in my right arm!" I said hysterically. The pain was getting to me.

"It's just a flesh wound, Bones. Do you want some aspirin?" I nodded weakly and sank down onto one of the barstools next to the counter. I was dozing off when he came back.

"What's up with you lately? You always seem to be falling asleep." Booth handed me the aspirin and before he could get me a glass of water I jerked my head back and dry swallowed them. God, my leg hurt. And I don't believe in God.

"The last case, I've been working a lot... I'm just tired." I said by way of explanation.

"Can I get you anything?" He asked, still concerned.

"Yeah. A tranquillizer and a morphine drip, please." Sarcasm always makes me feel better. When he didn't respond, I looked up at him. "I'm just having a bad day."

He grinned. "I can see that."

"It's not funny Booth!" I said accusingly, glaring at his dam charm smile.

"Tell you what, Bones. Why don't we just hang out here today and watch some good movies, eat junk food, and relax while your shoulder and leg heal up. What do you say?"

I couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Well, I don't have any other plans, so I guess it's ok."

"Great!" he said, jumping up. "Come here." I looked at his proffered arm curiously. "I'm gonna help you to the couch, then I'm gonna run to the store." I guess he took my blank stare as one of misunderstanding. "Or you could limp over there yourself." I smacked him in the chest as he picked me up and carried me to the couch. I murmured 'Alpha Male...' as he set me on the couch. I fell asleep almost instantly.

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To be continued. Review!