Away Isn't Far Enough

5. Passports, CDs and Tornadoes

This offer couldn't arrive at a better time. She had never been one to just pack up and leave. When she was going somewhere, it was always carefully planned and organized. And she packed days in advance to make sure not to forget anything. This time was different. All she needed was her freaking passport. She knew it was somewhere around here.

She pulled her sofa from the wall. Maybe it had mysteriously fall behind the couch. Nothing. She had looked everywhere. Well, not in the freezer, but why would her passport be in the freezer? Just as she was about to give up and look in the damn freezer, there was a knock at the door. She pulled the door open.

"Hey, Bones! Thought you might be hungr..."

"Can't," she said. And she fled to the kitchen. Maybe it was in one of the cupboards.

"Whoa!" Booth let out, putting the bags of takeouts on the nearest table. He took off his coat. "What's with the tornado?"

His eyes slowly adjusted to the mess. This place was usually so clean it gave him headaches.

"This is worse than my bedroom when I was 15..." he said, more to himself. "What's going on?" he asked.

"I can't find it," he heard her say, her head buried under the sink.

Oookay. He knew better than to press her for information when she was frantic like this. It would only be a waste of time. He reached the living room, mindlessly replaced the cushions on the couch, and repositioned the coffee table. He went up to her CD collection which was all over the place and started sorting them out.

"Can you help me, Booth? I think it's in a metallic box."

"What's in a metallic box?"

She didn't answer. He heard a crash. He went for his gun.

"Bones?! Are you okay?" he yelled.

"I'm fine. I'll clean up later!"

He relaxed and brought his attention back to the CDs. Where was it? He had looked through them twice and still couldn't find it.

"Hey, Bones?"

"What?!"

She sounded annoyed. He smiled.

"Where's your Foreigner album?"

Silence was his answer. He turned around, looking for her.

"Bones?"

He found her in her bedroom, down on her knees and elbows, head under the bed. He had a really nice view of her ass, up in the air. He swallowed the big lump in his throat. And put his hands in his pockets, to avoid having to refrain himself from touching her.

"Where's your Foreigner album?" he asked again.

"My what?"

"You know... 'Well, I'm hot blooded, check it and see-- I got a fever of a hundred and three...'" he sang.

Trying to get her head out of under the bed, she bumped it into the frame.

"Ow!"

He chuckled. "You okay?"

"I'm fine..." she mumbled, rubbing her head.

She still hadn't answered his question.

"So? Where is it?"

She got up on her feet.

"It broke."

And she pushed him gently out of the way to get out of the bedroom. He looked one last time around. There was a pink bra hanging from the bed post. He massaged his neck, which was really tense. Imagining Brennan in pink underwear was almost too much for his tight pants to bear.