Disclaimer: I didn't even write the dialogue, so I'm definitely not expecting monetary compensation. :-P
The Challenge: "HOORAY FOR HOLLYWOOD - This is not a crossover. It features only characters from the show. That's it. If there are names mentioned in the dialogue, you are allowed to change them to suit the characters, however, the rest of the dialogue must stay the same. You can change the behaviors of the characters in between the lines, meaning that the action from the movie doesn't necessarily have to be the same as the action in your fiction."
The Movie: French Kiss, Written by: Adam Brooks
And now….
French Kiss
Special Agent Seeley Booth's dour expression stared back at him from the glass window of a rolling, cramped sardine can. As the other voice in the car continued to drone, he rolled his eyes and banged his head against the seat's headrest. He couldn't believe it. After everything that had gone wrong in the past few days, this was just too much. Bones – his Bones! – was giving him relationship advice while simultaneously trying to shorten his lifespan on the freeway. At first he'd been touched by her obvious attempt at heartfelt commiseration. Then, as her talk turned to lecture, his feelings on the idea took a negative swing. So as she continued to pontificate, he began to tune her out and got lost in his own dismal thoughts. This is really the last thing I needed today. First my Step-Number-Whatever-the-Hell-It-Was Weekend Away is ruined when my "girlfriend" meets a handsome, younger, cabana boy. Then, I get the call ordering me back to DC for a new case. In my rush to get to the airport, I forget my passport; and, thanks to the taxi driver from Hell, I have to risk life and limb to turn back to grab it and then careen at top speed to the airport in time to hop the first flight back to the mainland…only to miss my connecting flight in Miami. THEN my car won't start! You'd think I'd be bright enough to call someone at the Bureau. But, noooo. My brain apparently has a masochistic side because, instead, I get the brilliant idea to call my "partner" for a little help. Ha! Help. I don't know what I was thinking. But, I know for a fact that I wasn't expecting to listen to this load of –
The sudden swerving of the tiny car, accompanied by the blaring of horns, pulled his focus back to the road. He really shouldn't have looked. The view of quickly approaching taillights on a semi filling the windshield caused him to grab whatever he could hold onto and slam his foot down on an imaginary break. Closing his eyes, he made a promise to God – If you just get me home safely, I promise that I will never again go on a premarital vacation with a desirable woman. With the screeching of tires, the car slammed to a stop. And so did he…with the help of the seatbelt. And, I will never again ask this woman to pick me up at the airport. I don't care if I have to walk home! He cracked an eye open to see that the semi was mere inches from the front of the car. Amen.
"…if you know so much about men and women, how come there was no one at the airport to greet you?"
His eyes flew open as he turned to look at her. He'd apparently missed something. So, like most men, he decided a good offense was a good defense.
"Oh, please. I'm finished with women, okay?" Especially after what happened this weekend.
Brennan smiled innocently. "What? You haven't found the right one?"
Okay, that's just not fair. Is it my fault that you didn't like Victoria? "I have found plenty of them, believe me." As well you know, Miss Smarty Pants.
"Oh. Then you're afraid of commitment."
Oh, for crying out loud! She's been talking to Angela too much. "I'm not afraid of anything," he argued, while trying to get the seatbelt to loosen enough to let him freaking breathe.
Calm as ever, she gave him a sideways glance as traffic started to creep forward. "I know what your problem is." She was glancing over her shoulder to merge into the next lane, so he almost missed her conclusion. "You have no staying power."
She said it so casually that it took a moment for the words to click in his brain. Then he started to sweat. Keeping the panic from his face, he oh-so-casually glanced out the window. "What do you mean?"
Smirking, she glanced in her rearview before speeding up. "You can't stick it out." She signaled to change lanes again.
"What are you talking about?'
"It's obvious!"
Crossing his arms defensively, he squirmed in his seat and asked a question that he really didn't want the answer to. "It is?"
"You are afraid of commitment." Her voice sounded reasonable, but the look spoke volumes. She thought he hadn't been listening.
I was listening. Sort of. "Commitment! Oh! Okay. Sorry. I thought you meant – Uh…" He stopped with a strangled cough.
And, then he caught her curious look. Ah, hell.
"What? What'd you think I…What'd you think I was talking about?"
"Nothing. Nothing. Forget it."
And, it was then that she figured it out. He could see it in the way that her eyes widened, and in the way that her shoulders tensed while she tried not to laugh. He would have been willing to give her credit for that, if she had only let the subject drop.
"Oooh. This problem" She held up her index finger and oh so slowly bent it down.
Tossing a glare in her direction, Booth shifted to face her, pointing to get his point across. "It's not a problem."
"For you, Booth?" At his dead stare she continued, "Every man goes through that." She paused in thought. "I mean, Sully never did, but it's usually an issue of self-esteem."
Sully? She… How dare she! "It's just a very recent phenomenon, okay? I've been under a lot of pressure recently." He sat back. "Soon, it will all be over." Pointing at her, he went on, "And then, zip, boom, bonjour! I am back in business. Okay?"
Her disbelief was almost palpable, but she merely shrugged and opened her door.
When'd we stop? He turned his focus to the scene outside the car, realizing that they'd made it to the crime scene alive and one piece. He cast a quick thanks upward and struggled to get out of the vehicle. It's gonna be a long day.
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So, what do you think?