Title:
Claustrophobia
Rating: K
Disclaimer: I do
own bones. I just don't own Bones.
Comments: Kind
of a stream-of-consciousness double-drabble one-shot. (Say that five times
fast…) Hope you enjoy!
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The rental car was very cramped, she observed. Offhandedly, of course, she wasn't really paying attention to the size of the car; and besides, it wasn't all that small. It was full of space. Full of air. The darkness outside the windows didn't matter at all, and she knew it.
She inhaled a shuddery breath… then another, another. See? Full of air. Don't be silly!
Be logical. Logically, there was plenty of space, plenty of air. In fact, she could probably calculate how long it would last if her head wasn't spinning and her chest wasn't heaving and oh, god, she needed to pull over.
A bar. Convenient. Booth would call it a sign from God. She asked for a shot of hard liquor and told the bartender to leave the bottle on the table.
Temperance, Brennan, she reminded herself wryly as she kicked back another shot. Smashed, she was totally smashed. Really, she was lucky the bar was only a few blocks away from her house. Such a bother to call a taxi, anyways- walking was less hassle.
Besides, it was good to be out in the cool night air. She breathed in deeply.
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AN: Let me know what you liked, let me know what you didn't like, let me know what kind of socks you're wearing right now… all comments and criticisms welcome!
