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25 August 2008 @ 05:57 pm
Bones Fic: Two Partners Underground  
Written for rounds_of_kink - Amnesty Round Two
9/6/07 Prompt Booth/Brennan
Adrenaline and crises
What if Booth was in the car with Brennan instead of Hodgins?
Crossposted to 206_bones

Title: Two Partners Underground
Pairing/Characters: Booth/Brennan
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: Season 1, Aliens in a Spaceship
Summary: Booth and Brennan in Brennan's car (AU of Aliens in a Spaceship)
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ

Other comments are housed at rounds_of_kink.

Hour 2

Seeley Booth watched as the colors and shapes in front of his newly opened eyes swirled and coalesced, reality bleeding into consciousness, finally clearing into a steering wheel and dashboard.

"What the hell?"

He blinked a few times, cobwebs of confusion clouding his normally agile mind. He shook them away and laid his hands on the steering wheel, relying on his physical senses when his mental acuity was suspect. Definitely a steering wheel.

"Where am I?" he muttered.

The dash wasn't familiar, surely wasn't his own government issue SUV. The radio was on playing a maudlin ballad that wouldn't dare cross the airwaves in his own vehicle.

He shifted in the driver's seat, aching and sore, and a twinge at the back of his neck made him automatically bring his hand up to check the affected area. The light from the dash was too dim to check for blood, so he fumbled over his head until he figured out how to turn on the car's dome light.

He winced, closing his eyes at first against the harsh glare, then checked his fingers. No blood. He looked around at his surroundings, but all the windows were abnormally dark. At first he thought maybe they'd been painted over, but as he looked closer - vision finally normalizing - he could tell there was material packed against them: dirt.

A jolt of alarm went through him and he frantically tried to open the door.

It didn't budge.

His anxiety growing, he tried again, putting his shoulder into it only to cry out as his head and ribs exploded in pain at the futile impact.

Bewildered, he reached for the visor to look into the vanity mirror there.

The reflection showed a bloody smear near his hairline, mostly dried, with a few trails running down the side of his face.

"What happened to me?"

He closed the visor and looked around at what else was in the car. The front passenger seat was littered with items: cell phones stripped of batteries, a camera, some towels and a few water bottles.

He checked the glove box, but found only the owner's manual for the car. He flipped it over to read the cover and his breath caught as he recognized the make and model of Brennan's car.

The manual slipped from his fingers in his surprise and as he leaned down to retrieve it he noticed a black case on the floor. He picked it up, intent on opening it, but was distracted by what lay beneath: a copy of Brennan's novel.

He let out an involuntary groan, the certainty of where he was no comfort at all.

He laid the case on the passenger seat, but stopped to snap off the annoying song on the radio before he opened it.

In the deathly silence that followed he froze, imagining he heard the tiniest sound in the car with him.

He'd thought he was alone, but as he took another look his heart skipped a beat.

Temperance Brennan lay sprawled across the back seat, ghostly pale and unmoving.

"Oh God..." he breathed, paralyzed in shock for a second before he bolted over the front seats to get to her. "You can't be dead," he whispered desperately. "Please don't be dead. Please..."

He held up his hand to her mouth, waiting painful milliseconds for proof of life.

A soft exhalation warmed his hand and he slumped in relief.

He bowed his head and crossed himself, saying a soft "Thank you."

He took a steadying breath and set to work cataloging her injuries. Once he was sure there was no spinal trauma or broken bones, he checked the back of her neck. Two burn marks - likely matching the ones on the back of his own neck - were present.

"It's him," he said, the panic returning. "Stun gun, buried alive..."

He sat back and fought down a wave of hyperventilation.

"The Grave Digger..."


Hour 3

A subtle shift in breathing was all it took for him to abandon the wires and parts in the front seat that he'd been going through. He rushed to the back seat, careful not to jostle her, and watched as her eyes fluttered, not quite opening.

She made a little noise of complaint and her delicate features scrunched up in pain - a sight that brought a fresh jolt of despair to his chest.

"Shh..." he whispered. "Sleep... Just rest... Everything's going to be okay..."

Quieting, she stilled again, so motionless he couldn't help but hold up his hand to test for breathing again. He left it there longer than needed, her regular soft exhalations comforting him.

When he finally moved back to the front seat he buried his head in his hands, fighting down the urge to gulp air - his desperation for the limited and fading resource overpowering, his claustrophobia mounting.

Desperate for distraction he grabbed the car's owner's manual, ready to read it cover to cover again, hoping to glean even one factoid that might suggest a way to extend their air supply.

He glanced at the meager array of objects on the seat next to him: electronics without power, chemicals without a lab and wires but no tools to work with them save a small pocketknife.

He quietly tore a sheet from the novel, folded it and tucked it behind the overhead light so it wouldn't shine right on her face.

More time unconscious meant less oxygen used and more time for him to make his words to her not a lie.


Hour 4

Bent down under the dashboard pulling wires, he missed her delicate sounds of waking, but not her panicked cry.

"Oh god! What happened? Where am I?"

Booth bounded over the front seats to get to her. Her eyes were wide with fear, but she seemed to calm somewhat at the sight of him.


"Booth? What the..." She winced and put a hand to the back of her neck, checking it for blood same as he had.

"You were hit with a stun gun," he explained as calmly as he could manage. "Me too." He turned to show her the marks on the back of his neck.

"This is my car," she said, finally recognizing it. "Why are we in my car?" she asked, still rather dazed.

"My guess..." he paused, dreading breaking the news to her. "It probably has about twelve hours of air in it."

Comprehension dawned slowly on her face and was almost immediately replaced by abject terror.

"The Grave Digger buried us alive?" She started gasping, unable to control herself. "No, no, no..." She thrashed, suddenly feeling constrained by the boundaries of the cramped back seat.

"Shh..." He held her by the shoulders in an attempt to still her flailing. "We'll get out of this, I promise."

"How are we going to get out?" she cried. "The only person I'd trust to find me is you and you're in here with me!"

"They'll pay the ransom," he assured her. "They'll get the GPS coordinates and they'll dig us out just like they did with the others who paid up. We just need to be patient and try not to use up all our air."

That simple statement made both of them breathe deeper out of instinct.

"What if they don't pay?" she whispered fearfully. "You said the FBI's rules say don't pay."

"First off," he stated firmly, "the FBI only advises the families. They can't stop them from making a payment."

"But Russ has no money," she protested. "And he's on a fishing trip this weekend. No phones." She scoffed. "Not like anyone can call my father and ask him for money."

"Hodgins will pay if no one else will," he assured her.

"Hodgins?" She furrowed her brow in confusion. "I pay him well, but not million dollars well."

"He's rich. I wasn't supposed to tell you, but I think he'll cut me some slack given the circumstances."

"Rich like me?" she asked.

"Rich like ten of you times ten and then some," he countered. "He'll pay. Hell, I bet your publisher would pay just to get the rights to whatever book you write when we catch this son of a bitch."

She brought her hand to her head. "My head really hurts."

"You might have a concussion." He tried to get her to settle back down, but she resisted. "Bones, you really should rest. You're hurt, you should just take a nap..."

"I am not taking a nap!" she exclaimed, shifting to sit all the way up. "We need a plan B in case the money doesn't come through!"

"I'm working on it," he assured her. "Just rest. I'm taking care of it."

"No," she said adamantly.


"It's my death too, Booth..." she said, her voice subdued, but her gaze resolute. "I deserve a say in this."

He let out a breath and closed his eyes for a second.

"Okay," he said reluctantly.

"Good." She straightened up, shifting into scientist mode. "Now show me what we've got to work with."


Hour 6

"Okay, so we'll only have a few seconds to send the text message," she said, finishing up the wiring. "Have you come up with a message to send yet?"

"I'm thinking C-A-R will do it," he replied, checking the connections on the phone.

"How will that help?"

"They'll go looking for your car, they won't find it, they'll figure out it's what we're buried in and then track it using the GPS unit in your dash."

"Oh." She looked surprised. "They can do that?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Well, I knew they could triangulate a cell call, but I didn't know they could track a GPS unit underground!"

"Triangulating a cell call is imprecise. They could do a lot of digging before they find our exact location and," he gave her a knowing look, "we don't have enough time for hit and miss. The underground part?" He shrugged apologetically. "Okay, I don't have any experience to prove that, but I figure what's a few feet of dirt when we're talking about a powerful satellite?"

She did a final check on the wiring at the steering wheel and turned to face him in the back seat. "All done. Are your thumbs fast?"

"Fast enough," he responded.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, both trying to reassure and seeking reassurance.

"Then let's do it."

She leaned on the horn to start the power transfer and almost immediately the cell phone blew up in his hands.

"Ow!" he cried, flinging the phone away and nursing his fingers.

"Booth! Are you okay?" She crawled over the seats to get to him, looking worried.

His whole body stiffened, unconsciously curling over his injured hands.

"Damn it!" he swore. "That was our one chance to send a message!"

"The power must have been too much for it." She looked crestfallen. "I'm sorry, Booth. I really thought it would last a while before it shorted out."

"We wasted two hours trying to get that to work!" he railed. "I should have known the power would be too much for it!"


"I told you I'd take care of this! I'm supposed to protect you!" he shouted.


"But all I did was screw it up!"

She grabbed his face and planted a firm but chaste kiss on his lips.

Stunned, he deflated all at once.

"What did you do that for?" he asked, searching her eyes, his expression quizzical.

"You needed to calm down," she said, her tone matter of fact. "You were using too much air being angry."

Chastened, his face fell. "I'm sorry. I won't talk anymore."

"Booth, that's not what I meant."

The silence was oppressive and the acrid smell of burned out electronics hung heavy in the stale air.

She ran a hand down his arm, stopping at his wrist, closing her fingers over his pulse point. They sat in silence a moment like that, his hands still curled shut.

"Let me see if I can bandage your hands for you at least..."


Hour 10

"What if they're having trouble getting the money together?"

"It's an electronic transfer," he assured her. "It's not like the old days when people needed to get small unmarked bills for a ransom."

"Still, if it was that easy," she ventured, twisting wires in her fingers, "wouldn’t we be out by now?"

"I never said it was easy," he admitted, "just not as hard as cash." He laid his now bandaged hand gently on her shoulder. "They'll make it in time."

She nodded bravely. "But plan B is almost done," she said brightly, attempting to keep the mood light.

"Yeah, but if it goes wrong we're toast." He looked at her handiwork with skepticism. "Do we really want to play with airbag explosives?"

"Hey, we're pretty much out of ideas here." She pulled the two trigger wires to separate sides of the dash to keep them apart. "We'll only set them off if, god forbid, there's a problem with the ransom and they don't find us."

He cocked his head at her, grinning. "You know for someone who doesn't believe in god, you sure use his name a lot."

"It's an expression," she scoffed playfully. "Everyone says god forbid."

"Maybe." He leaned closer. "But the first words out of your mouth when you woke up were 'oh god'."

"It doesn't mean anything," she said dismissively.

"If you say so..." A smirk lingered on his face even after he dropped the subject.

She scanned the dash and checked the connections one last time.

"I'm done. I guess all there is now is waiting."

"Care to join me?"

Booth held out his hand to her in a gentlemanly invitation to the back seat.

Smiling, she waved his bandaged hand away and climbed back to sit beside him.

"Well, I guess we can't thumb wrestle to pass the time."

He laughed. "Bones! You made a joke!"

She looked bashful. "I wasn't sure if that would be in poor taste or not. I'm not really good about knowing that sort of thing."

"But you know me," he said. "And that's all that matters."

"Yeah," she agreed, laying her head on the seat beside his. "That and a few million dollars..."


Hour 11

"Hey... You awake?"

"Yeah," she sat up, looking a little embarrassed that she'd had her head on his shoulder. "I can't believe I passed out on you like that."

He reached up to smooth her mussed hair and tuck it behind her ear. "We'll need to get you to a hospital as soon as we get out. I'm worried that you have a concussion and not a minor one."

"What do you think happened?" she asked. "I mean, I'm pretty sure you interrupted him taking me."

"Like with the twins," he agreed. "I'm not sure. I remember thinking I'd swing by the lab to see if you wanted to grab some dinner."

"So you were in your car." She examined his hairline closely. "The placement of this injury. It wasn't a frontal blow from an assailant. The height and angle suggest a car accident - side impact." She sat back and looked at him. "You hit your head on the window."

"Side impact explains the sore ribs," he mused, rubbing them. "So I see the Grave Digger take you and drive off, I give chase..."

She picked up where he left off. "He slams into your car and tasers you, takes you along and buries you with me."

"I'm guessing you woke up too soon and he hit you over the head to keep you from seeing him," he mused.

"Or I hit my head when he rammed your car."

"Could be." His voice trailed off and there was silence for a moment. "Do you think maybe the Grave Digger was wrong and there's not twelve hours of air in this car? It just feels like the air is awful thin and we shouldn't be running out of oxygen yet."

"Technically, there's plenty of oxygen in the car. It's just in the form of carbon dioxide, which makes the oxygen inaccessible to our lungs. If we had an oxygen scrubber we could break apart the carbon dioxide molecules and have more free O2."

"Yeah, well unless you can produce an oxygen scrubber out of thin air... No pun intended," he said.

She bolted upright and he saw the light bulb go off as her expression brightened.

"I might just be able to!"

He watched as she grabbed a chemical vial out of her kit and the camera.


"Soda ash and lithium!" she said excitedly. "He took all the cell batteries, but the camera still has a backup battery in it." She popped open the battery compartment on the camera and removed the battery. "Just give me a few minutes..."

He watched as she used the pocketknife to pry open the battery, grabbing the car's unused ashtray to pour the contents into. She added the powder from her kit and with an anticipatory breath poured a little water over it. The mixture bubbled immediately and beneath the odor of chemicals was a hint of fresh air. He fought down the urge to hold his mouth over the bubbling froth and inhale great gulps of air to satisfy his instinctual desire to breathe.

"How much longer will that give us?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, but minutes not hours. There's only so much lithium."

"Any other ideas on how to make thin air out of thin air?" He gestured to the front of the car. "I already read the manual to try to figure out if there was a way to rip out the carpeting to reach the engine compartment. There's not much, but I figured there would be a couple of cubic feet of air we could access."

"What happened?"

He shook his head. "Your car's too well built. I couldn't break through. Too much steel."

"How about the trunk?" She cocked her head at the area behind the back seat. "That should have a little in it."

"We can't reach the trunk from inside the car. The manual was clear there was no latch to pull the back seat down like on some cars."

She smiled slyly. "Who said anything about moving the seat?" She ran her hands over the upholstery. "We've got a knife. I say we cut our way through."

"Remind me to pack a scientist every time I get kidnapped," he joshed. "You squints really do come in handy."

"Why thank you," she responded, sharing his grin. She opened up the pocketknife and after ten minutes of hacking, she broke through to the trunk compartment. "Looks like I can get through. Let me just make this opening a bit bigger." She tore chunks out of the foam and peered into the trunk. "Today's your lucky day."

"I'm thinking not so much," he tossed back sarcastically.

"We both forgot a source of air sitting right in the trunk."

He snapped his fingers as it hit him. "The spare tire. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you're not a scientist?" she teased.

"Let me remind you that you didn't think of it either," he mocked.

"I have a concussion." She pretended to be offended. "Let's save it until we really need it though. The chemicals need a high concentration of carbon dioxide to work so now's not the best time to dilute the air with, well, air."

"So we have over 12 hours of air now. That should be enough to hold us until the ransom is paid."

They both looked at their watches.

"Why does the last hour always take the longest?" she implored.

His eyes turned involuntarily to the dirt packed against the window.

"Let's just hope it's not our last hour."


Hour 12

It took her several tries to puncture the tire, but once she did a stream of stale cool rubber scented air rushed into the compartment.

They both unconsciously leaned their faces into the source of life saving air.

"Hey, don't pass out on me," he cautioned, nudging her after her eyes fluttered and fell closed.

"I'm okay," she murmured. "Though it probably would be better if I did, using less oxygen and all." She glanced at her watch then blinked, looking at it again. "This can't be right."


"My karate class... It's the same time every week so even if I don't remember what happened I know what time I have to leave my office to drive there."


She looked at him, face drawn with worry. "It's been twelve hours."

"No... No... No!" His voice quickly became a yell and he flailed, hitting the window hard as he thrashed wildly. The claustrophobia took over and the panic blinded him to anything more than escape.

"Stop, Booth, stop!" She tried to restrain his arms, but he was too far gone to reach. Desperate, she grabbed him by the face and kissed him hard.

As his body went limp she kept kissing him, only softer - calming him with the gentle press of her lips on his.

After a few seconds his arms closed around her, drawing her in. He returned the kiss, both seeking and offering comfort.

The alarm over, she found herself responding, letting herself be soothed as well, discovering solace she hadn't realized she needed desperately.


Hour 13

They sat in silence for a few moments as the air grew thin around them.

"They're not coming for us."

The visible increase in tension in his body was his only response.

She turned to look at the explosives lined up along the dashboard.

"We have to do this."

"I know, but can we wait, just a little bit longer?"

"Booth, we don't have much air left."

"I know." He took her hand in his bandaged one. "But there's something I have to say first." He bowed his head and crossed himself with his other hand before he began to pray. "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy Name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." He fell silent for a moment, adding his own private plea in his head before crossing himself again and breathing a final word. "Amen."

She offered him a weak smile which he tried vainly to return.

"For once," she managed. "I kind of hope I'm wrong about this god thing."

"So do I, Bones," he said, his expression unreadable. "So do I." He reached out and cupped her jaw in his palm, brushing his thumb across her cheek. "You know I love you, right?"

She brightened for a moment, offering a genuine smile. "I love you too."

Before he could say anything else she climbed over the seats, retrieved the wires and returned to the back seat beside him.

"Are you ready?" he asked, taking one of the wires from her.

"It's now or never... Wait!" she said, pulling her wire away. "If we get out of this can I come to church with you?"

He laughed helplessly, giddy with lack of oxygen. "Bones, when we get out," he said, putting emphasis on the word when, "I'll take you to church with me every Sunday if you want."

"I'm not sure I'm that interested," she protested, fighting down a slightly hysterical chuckle.

They both sobered, taking a final deep breath.

"If this works I'm going out the windshield first," he told her. "I've got a better chance of fighting my way to the surface and once I do I can dig you out."

"Well then, you'd better move fast," she warned him. "Because I'm coming out right behind you."

Their eyes met and they nodded to each other. Then their eyes went to the wires and they brought them slowly together.

"Three... Two... One..."

The wires met and the explosion ignited.

His ears rang, but he had no time to register anything more than dirt, tons of dirt, flowing into the car like a landslide. He bolted for the front seat before it filled up, feeling her following close behind.

The loose gravel was fast moving and dense, gravity sucking it downwards, fighting against his upward movement. He felt like he was swimming through rock and in a sense he was. It dragged on him, pushing against him as he fought to gain precious feet. At one point he came to a standstill and panicked, certain he would be stuck there, die there. The adrenaline of mortal peril fueled his already overtaxed muscles and he fought back. Inches turned to feet, feet turned to free air for his hand until finally he surfaced, sucking in the sunbaked dusty air like a drowning man.

He struggled to get free, to get leverage to pull from. He didn't wait until he was all the way out before reaching beneath him, fishing for her hand.

He couldn't find it.

With singleminded purpose he dug fast and hard creating a pit in the quarry until he could reach down further, muttering "come on, come on," under his breath like a mantra.

Finally he felt a brush of skin and dove down after it. A finger, a hand, an arm.

He tugged hard, almost worried about dislocating her shoulder, but figuring that would heal - suffocation wouldn't.

When he finally got her head above surface she seemed still - too still - but then she rousted, gasping. Once he was able to get his arms around her he dragged her out until they lay panting on the floor of the pit, entwined, alive.


"I'll tell her."

He hung up the hospital waiting room pay phone looking surprised at her appearing suddenly in front of him.

"They let me out," she said in response to his querying expression.

"Why do I find that unlikely?" he said, eyeing her.

"No less unlikely than them letting you out," she countered.

"My ribs aren't broken. I can recuperate just as well at home."

"My concussion's not major. I can recuperate at home too," she stated stubbornly. "What did you find out?" She gestured to the phone. "Were they not able to raise the ransom in time? Or did the Grave Digger screw up again and tell them 24 hours not 12?"

"Bones..." He took her by the elbow and guided her into a chair, sitting beside her. "He didn't call. The Grave Digger never called them."

She screwed up her forehead in confusion. "That can't be. I mean how did he expect to get the ransom if he never made a demand?"

He put a hand, now professionally bandaged, on her arm. "Bones, he kidnapped a federal agent. He couldn't risk..." He paused, his grip tightening on her arm. "He never meant for us to be found."

Her head swam for a moment and only her partner's hand on her arm grounded her. "He couldn't risk us remembering..."

"He couldn't risk the extra pressure the FBI would have put on him. You kidnap two kids and it's just like any case. You kidnap a federal agent we tear down walls to find you. We look after our own like family."

She nodded lamely, still lost in the horror of the truth.

"There's an officer outside ready to drive us back to D.C. Let's get you home."

"No," she said automatically.

"No?" he asked, perplexed.

"I don't want to go home, not yet anyway," she amended, feeling a little foolish.

He rose and offered her his hand.

"Then you're coming with me to my place."

Relieved that he understood what she needed more than she did, she took his hand lightly and followed him out into the sunlight.

The police cruiser was right outside and the officer nodded in greeting to them before opening the rear door for them then getting in behind the wheel.

"Are you coming?" she asked, when he hesitated.

He turned his head away from the confines of the metal box and turned up to the sun, drawing in deep breath after deep breath.

"In a minute..."

He didn't hear her quiet request to the officer, but he did hear the electronic whine of all four power windows lowering.

"Thanks," he said humbly as she gazed at him from the back seat.

"Let's go home," she said, making room for him beside her. "It's over."


"Booth, look," she whispered. "He's asleep."

Parker was nestled into his father's side, his quiet regular breathing drowned out by the sound of the movie still playing on the TV.

"He's been out for about twenty minutes now," he whispered back, threading his fingers gently through his son's fair hair.

She watched them both for a moment, a great and somehow familiar fondness rising up in her.

"You're a good father, Booth."

"I'm just glad Rebecca let me have him tonight. After all this..." His voice trailed off, his gaze never leaving his young son. "I just wanted to be close to him, you know?"

"Anthropologically speaking a traumatic event does tend to bring people together, increasing feelings of closeness, creating stronger bonds..."

He turned to her, shushing her with his finger.

"No squint talk with a sleeping kid around."

"I highly doubt the topic of conversation would awaken him," she mused, ever logical. "I'm pretty sure it's volume that's the issue, although dynamics might be a factor..."

He shut her up with a brief but firm kiss, making her blink in surprise.

"What was that for?" she sputtered.

"Anthropologically speaking," he teased, "this traumatic event has created a stronger bond between us..."

She smacked his shoulder in protest, grinning madly, before settling herself against his other side.

"No squint talk in front of Parker," she taunted.

He put his arm around her and gave her a playful shake.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just watch the rest of the movie."

They turned back to the television and as a gentle breeze blew in through the open windows she laid her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting the feel of the warm bodies next to him ground him in safe reality. He placed a kiss on top of his son's unruly mop then leaned across to place one on his partner's forehead as well.

Then he lifted his eyes heavenward and offered up a silent prayer of thanks.

Emma DeMarais: BlueEyeemmademarais on August 26th, 2008 02:08 am (UTC)
I am embarrassingly late with this fic. /hangs head/

It was due 9/6/07 and I could not for the life of me get it done. Period. I don't know what my hang up was - perhaps not having written any real long form Bones fic ever - but I started the fic and stalled hard.

Fast forward to this year and even though I didn't sign up for it the fic got finished as part of a big boost I got during the July round of ficfinishing. I love when I finish unofficial fic as part of my rounds there! /grins/

It took ages to edit and polish it and, well, wait for an amnesty round so I could post it. (Thanks silentflux!) So I finally got this off my to do list and I couldn't be happier. Now I can sign up for the next rounds_of_kink with a clean slate and a clear conscience.

I confess I'm just too tired to make up the long author notes I normally would post with a fic of this magnitude. I was sure I'd written up my headers and such beforehand, but I can't find them anywhere and on 3-4 hours sleep? I don't think I'm up to reproducing them for the 1-2 people who will probably read this entire thing. Mea culpa.

I will say, however, that if I hadn't been given the Booth/Brennan pairing as part of the prompt to write I would have made this fic entirely gen with no kissing in it at all. Oh, and I probably wouldn't have had a sweet little family scene at the end. Still, the prompt - as soon as I laid eyes on it - was so compelling I had to write it. I mean, Aliens in a Spaceship was already my favorite episode, so the chance to remix it with Booth in the car? Unmissable. Unless you count the months I missed it after the deadline. /headdesk/

FWIW, this prompt got claimed twice so somewhere out there someone else wrote this idea and published it first. Or I assume so. I know that I claimed it first, but I never went looking for theirs or read it for obvious reasons. I just assumed theirs got done at some point, because what are the odds of *both* of us flaking out? ROFL

My thanks and appreciation go out to the bones_research comm people, who helped me out with some information about Booth's backstory and how he might be helpful in them trying to escape the car.

Very special thanks to betas melissima and ladybug218 for their assistance with this fic.


Emma DeMarais
Rtoomanysides on August 26th, 2008 02:23 am (UTC)
I have an issue that you can quickly fix, concussion + sleep = BAD advise. Like reallly bad... any athlete would know that and certainly Brennan.

idk about Brennan asking to go to church... just my opinion,
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on August 26th, 2008 02:32 am (UTC)
I thought about that, but concussion - oxygen means dead, so I think he'd err on the side of letting her use less oxygen so he had more time to work on getting them out.

She was curious about church and I thought she even asked if she could go with him when they were driving around beforehand. He said no then, but given that they were in the church at the end of the episode clearly he agreed and she wanted to be there. She could have gone as someone interested in examining the environment and experience without actually believing in any of it. That would befit an anthropologist in my book.
Rtoomanysides on August 26th, 2008 02:36 am (UTC)
Well given the choice of Brennan never waking up or using more oxygen... I say oxygen. And I would think that Brennan would be the one devising a plan to escape instead of Booth.

I think I just had a little issue of when Brennan asked. i didn't think it was necessary to show Brennan asking. I liked how they did it in AiaS.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on August 26th, 2008 02:48 am (UTC)
That was never the choice in my mind (YMMV), although in this scenario it's quite possible that using more oxygen *also* means never waking up, especially since no one was coming for them.

FWIW, we have no proof she has a concussion. Plus the person I know who has had the most concussions told me it's okay to sleep if someone is with you to wake you up from time to time to check on you. She only knows her head hurts and she's been tasered. The headache could be taser related and not actually a blow to the head. Actually it's more likely it's Booth who has a concussion, but since I made both of them fully lucid very soon after they came to I felt it was pretty clear any head injuries were not major.

Booth would *want* to be the one to get them out - macho protector that he is - but Brennan was the truly useful one in the fic: making the oxygen scrubber, figuring out the spare tire access and rigging the explosions. In the original she has faith baby /grins/ that Booth will find them, but she still works on what she can do for herself in the car - same as in this one.

I liked how AiaS ended as well, but I felt constrained by the prompter to provide a more happy family ending for Booth/Brennan. If I had written this my own way it would have been full on gen and the ending probably would have been in the church.
Rtoomanysides on August 26th, 2008 02:54 am (UTC)
Ah I get what you mean. I'm clearly not thinking straight today... with this massive headache of mine. Bad time to be online.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on August 26th, 2008 03:30 am (UTC)
/shrugs/ Just a difference of opinion. I only had like 3-4 hours of sleep so it's not like I'm the poster child for clarity! LOL

/offers you virtual painkillers/

Hope you feel better soon...
Nicoleshadow71689 on August 26th, 2008 02:51 am (UTC)
Yes, the story was absolutely WONDERFUL, but the concussion + sleep thing was like "OH... BAD IDEA." lol

Well, Brennan has asked Booth already about going to church, lol. He ranted that he would never let Brennan disrespect God in His own house, haha. Plus, at the end of AitS, he finally let her come to church.

Truly though, Emma - this story was utterly fantastic! Keep up the great work!! :D
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on August 26th, 2008 03:29 am (UTC)
Thank you so much for reading!

As I explained to toomanysides I weighed what I knew about concussions and felt Booth would err on the side of preserving oxygen over worrying without any actual facts to go on about her head injury. Everyone's allowed to interpret as they wish. /shrugs/ To be fair though, most of what I've heard says don't let them sleep longer than one hour and in the fic (once she regains consciousness the first time) she is never asleep longer than an hour.

I remember Booth saying stuff about her research into church - something like go watch TV evangelists or something. LOL It's been too long since I saw the episode. I love it so much I didn't want to watch it for a while after I watched it a ton for this fic.

Glad you enjoyed it though! I do hope to do more Bones fic in the future. This one is my longest by far, but I have two other long ones brewing that I'd love to get on paper soon.
scoob2222scoob2222 on August 26th, 2008 02:30 am (UTC)
sigh...I love this fic so, so much.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on August 26th, 2008 02:32 am (UTC)
Yay! /is very happy/

Thank you so, so much!
FreeSpiritbuffyangellvr23 on August 26th, 2008 04:40 am (UTC)
Nice work, even with the potential issue mentioned in the other posts. I enjoyed it :)
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on August 26th, 2008 05:16 am (UTC)
Thanks. I appreciate you coming to read.

Funny that my Bones beta didn't even mention it as a possible issue and my regular beta has personal knowledge to back up my take on it. I so didn't expect this level of analysis on what I considered - pun intended - a no brainer decision. LOL
the sun comes up because the world turns: BB alienstempertemper on August 26th, 2008 06:20 am (UTC)
Oh I liked this, a very realistic take on how it might have been if B&B were in the car instead. I didn't notice the concussion thing, but then I don't have that kind of medical knowledge anyway. Also I think neither of them would have been thinking very straight. It was clear to me too, that Brennan asking about the church came from her being intrigued by Booth's faith rather than anything else. Actually I thought it was very Brennan to ask it just before setting off the explosion LOL. I dislike fics where Brennan suddenly sees the light, because, not going to happen. But she is naturally curious and that's what you showed here IMO.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on August 26th, 2008 06:34 am (UTC)
Thank you so much for taking the time to read and to offer this nice long comment!

I kind of thought as I read this that she might have asked just before the explosion since a) she just thought of it and b) she's more likely to get a yes from him then. LOL Hey! It's logical and she's all about the logic. /grins/

But yeah, no sudden religious conversion for her - she even argues when Booth tries to suggest she believes in god because she says the word several times. It was already hard enough to manage to get them to kiss so I don't think I could have handled a sudden religious revelation for her as well. ;-)
the sun comes up because the world turns: BB woman limbotempertemper on August 26th, 2008 09:04 am (UTC)
You're very welcome - and I loved the kisses, and the 'you know I love you, don't you' 's .. I thought them both very in-keeping with the desperate situation and the characters :)
Toritorigates on August 27th, 2008 10:27 pm (UTC)
I really like how you incorporate the events of the episode and change it to how Booth would react vs what Hodgins did.

Awesome! :D
tkdbbelt on August 31st, 2008 12:24 pm (UTC)
Yeah! Bones fic! I really enjoyed this story.

I've also gotten into the habit of reading your "confession" so there may be more then 1 or 2 of us out there. Sometimes it's almost as entertaining as the story. Almost.

Thanks, Kathy
(Anonymous) on September 28th, 2008 10:44 am (UTC)
Nice site!

A Particular Needle In A Pile Of Needles: Coldboothbones4eva on December 29th, 2008 03:03 pm (UTC)
A little bit late on the scene, but have been flicking through your fics and I really enjoyed this one. The whole concussion thing didn't bother me because one, I didn't know you shouldn't sleep when you had concussion and two, Booth told her to sleep and Brennan didn't know that she had concussion so she slept (did that make sense? lol). Also, Brennan went to church with Booth at the end of the actual Aliens in a Spaceship episode, so why wouldn't she ask to go at the end of this one. I really liked how different things went wrong with this version as compared to the real one, and, with the issues that were the same, how they were dealt with slightly differently. The romantic parts of the fic were told perfectly too. As I said before, I loved this fic and your characterization is spot on. Thank you for the great story.