[A/N: I have no idea where this came from, what I'm doing (this is very short and choppy writing for me), or where this is headed (oops!). Why post it you might be wondering? Just for the heck of it, I suppose.
I certainly don't own Bones. But I sure do love watching and can't wait for Season 8 to start!]
The World Turned Upside Down for Way More Than Three Days
Chapter 1
Wednesday, 6:23 p.m.
It was more than just the annoyingly typical stop-and-go rush hour traffic that had Booth irritated. Long day at the office, bad news from the squints about yet another dead-end on the Pelant case, missing Bones and Christine even more than usual—that had been the order of the day. But as he sat impatiently in a traffic jam that could not acknowledge or care about his aggravation, Booth's gut—his internal radar—went on alert. For at least the last half-hour, he'd had that feeling that he was being tailed. Sure, the bureau had had him followed more than once since his lover had deserted him and kidnapped his youngest child. But dammit, he'd passed every test and given them no further reason to suspect that he knew where his partner had gone. Hell, he wished things were different. He wished that he had anything—even the tiniest shred of evidence about where Bones was. But she'd left him without warning, without leaving a trace, and without anything that could implicate him in her disappearance. And that still stung.
Growing more unsettled by the moment, Booth tapped his left foot impatiently on the floor mat of his SUV. He'd sat through this light at least 4 times. What the hell had happened? Was the President on the move or something? This was parade-level or dignitary-driven traffic—something he normally would have known about and been able to avoid.
A few minutes later, on the verge of turning off his car and just walking the rest of the way to his empty house, Booth saw the flash of blue lights in his rear-view mirror. Nobody could have begun to consider speeding in this traffic. "Must have made a dangerous lane change," he muttered aloud to his empty car. But when he looked up and saw what was going on behind him, his gut clenched, and he almost lost what was left of the pitiful vending machine lunch he'd wolfed down between meetings. The image of what was happening was too surreal, too unexpected, and too damned impossible for him to process it clearly. Panic rising nearly strong enough to immobilize him in its wake, Booth leapt from the vehicle and ran straight into the line of sight of the rifles and handguns pointed in the direction of his SUV.
[To be continued]