First story I've shared in a while so I'd love to hear feedback. I really should be working!

Disclaimer: If I owned these characters, would I be living in a basement?

Set immediately post-"The Woman in the Garden". Italics are Booth's thoughts


Seeley Booth paced across his living room. Try as he did, he could not find a single activity that could occupy him enough to shake the feeling of restlessness that had overtaken him since he left the cemetery.

He walked into his kitchen and considered cleaning out his refrigerator. No, no more cleaning! After walking Temperence to her car and ensuring that she and Angela were safely on their way (Angela was demanding Temperence join her at an art gallery with a Friday night martini special) Booth had returned to his office and channeled his nervous energy into paperwork and filing. His office has never been so neat and tidy and it was the first time since he began working with Temperence that all his paperwork was up to date. When there was nothing left to do he came home, ordered a pizza and tried to occupy himself. Unsuccessfully.

Seeley exhaled loudly and walked back to his living room. He kicked over a large pile of Xbox games, finding nothing that peaked his interest. Grabbing the television remote, he threw himself onto the couch and channel surfed absentmindedly.

Nothing.

He picked up a newspaper lying on the coffee table but tossed it aside within minutes.

I give up.

With the only other activity he could think of being more pacing, he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Under the hot spray he finally began to feel relaxed. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.

The image of a man's face flashed before him – a pale, terrified man with the muzzle of a gun in his mouth.

Seeley gasped as a rush of adrenaline then a wave of nausea hit him, forcing him down on his hands and knees.

What did I do? What was I willing to do? Kill a man out of anger? Fear? Not in the heat of a battle or for the sake of national security but for Bones. A squint. And myself. If this is what I'm willing to do, what have I become?

He shut of the water and climbed out of the tub. While drying himself off, he caught his reflection in the mirror.

A monster. I've become no better than that shit-for-brains gang banger.

Unable to bear his own thoughts, let alone the comforts of his home, he dressed quickly and grabbed his keys and wallet. He headed out not knowing where he was going, just that he needed to escape.