Round 1 Story Title: Logic Jumps
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Bones
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Bones is not mine. I watch it and love it but do not own any bit of it.
Summary: Booth seems sick. Bones seems annoyed.
Author Notes: It’s my first attempt writing in this fandom. It’s short but I had fun. Hope it’s all right!
Bunny: #16

"Would you please stop doing that?"

"Can't... ehhh... help... it... hihh-Shihh!"

Dr. Temperance Brennan did not even look up from the bone fragment she was examining through a microscope. "If you're sick, you should go home."

Seeley Booth snuffled messily into a handkerchief, cleared his throat, then folded the handkerchief into his hand. "It's just a cold, Bones. You can't die from a cold."

"Perhaps not but it could lead to complications that would." She adjusted the dials on the microscope. "Sinusitis. Bronchitis. Pneumonia. Jagged edges."

Booth's brow furrowed. "What?"

"This bone. The edges are jagged, which is inconsistent with what we supposed was the murder weapon."

Booth cleared his throat again. "That can't be right. That saw was dripping in blood. The blood was matched to the...  the victim. Hihhh!" Booth sucked in an especially quick and deep breath. The handkerchief dropped open in his hand and he buried his nose in it. "hehTshhh!"

Bones' hands twitched with annoyance. "Well, that saw might have been used for some of these. We'll have to do tests on every one of them." She gestured towards the thousands of bone fragments laid out on the table in front of them. Several people were working now to try to piece them back together to get a more complete and accurate representation of what had once been the body of a janitor. "But I can be certain that it wasn't used on one. There are two distinct marks on either side of this fragment and neither matches what that instrument would make."

 "Why would someone bother doing this sort of thing to a body and leave some tools but take others?"

Shaking her head, Bones carefully rotated the fragment in order to take pictures to compare to later. "That's your part of the job, Booth. I'm just telling you what I'm finding."

"Right, but... heh... hih-EH-HIHKShoo!" He blew his nose multiple times.

Bones winced. "There's no way that saw made these marks. But whatever it was cut more quickly than the saw would have. It is possible to hypothesize that he became frustrated with the time one instrument was taking and so he tried another."

Booth nodded. "That makes sense." He shivered a little and looked warily at Bones to see if she had seen; she hadn't. He stepped up to the table, surveying the spread. It looked like a pile of pale bones and he could not imagine how the squints could make sense of it, though he hoped they could. "How long do you think all this will... oh damn..." He had gestured towards the table, but quickly withdrew. Without enough time to cover his nose, he did manage to turn his head. "h'SHHHIH!"

Bones lifted her head. "Would you please stop sneezing around the evidence? If you're not careful you're going to wind up as a suspect."

"Look..." He wiped his nose. "I'm sorry..." He wiped his nose again. "I can't... huh... h'Shihhh!"

With frustration, Bones sighed. She stood, chair rolling back, and went over to him. "Let's get some lunch."

He looked bewildered. "What?"

"Lunch," she repeated. "The second meal of the day. I believe we should have some right now."

After consulting his watch, and clearing his throat, "But it's only eleven-fifteen and we haven't finished. Wouldn't you rather--"

"What I'd like is for you to let my students do their work without distracting them and infecting them with whatever virus you have."

"It's just a little cold," Booth muttered dejectedly.

Bones pretended not to hear as she took his arm and steered him towards the elevator. "Then what you need is chicken soup and something hot to drink. I don't want to see you getting worse before we can solve this. This is what friends do, right?"

She treated him like part of an equation, piecing together a logical solution to his problem. But this time he didn't really care. "Fine. But you're paying."

They headed down the street to the café. Surrounded by Washington landmark photos and Washington Capitals posters, they slid into a booth. She ordered for him, insisting on a large bowl of chicken soup. Booth started to object, but another sneeze snuck up on him. "hihhh-IFChuhh!" After blowing his nose and wiping it dry, he cleared his throat yet again. "Sorry."

Bones shrugged. "It doesn't matter now that you're out of the lab."

About a second into feeling indignant, Booth noticed her smile from behind the menu she wasn't actually reading.