Truth, Justice and the Lies we tell ourselves
AN: So, it's a funny thing when you say you're not going to write for awhile, you can either let life take over or let writing overtake your life. Yeah, I'm addicted to writing. But after having a fabulous birthday, great party time in Las Vegas and working on my novel relentlessly, this little fic popped into my head. It's great when you are looking for inspiration, usually if I just sit and relax and think about people I know or things I've experienced, inspiration is right there waiting for me. The setting for this story, winter, is based on the fact my boss keeps our office at two degrees above freezing all year round.
Chapter 1 Winter
Winter was coming, you could feel it in the air nipping at naked necks, whistling past uncovered wrists. The humid blanket which had descended on the Northeast so relentlessly during the summer was lifting, a breath of fresh, very cool, air taking its place. The weather services were predicting the first snow flurries by sundown and ominious clouds had rendered the city dark and damp early in the evening.
And in downtown Washington D.C. a certain forensic anthropologist was cursing the over zealous maintenance crew at the Jeffersonian Institute. If, she thought with a scowl, they had not cranked the heater up at the first sign of winter and if, she grimiced, she had not been practically sweating in her office, maybe, just maybe she would have driven to the Hoover Building to meet Booth for dinner instead of walking the ten blocks. Now, she steadied herself on a light pole which cast a dim rose light as she managed to skid on a small patch of ice not yet solidly frozen, she was experiencing the opposite extreme as she lost sensation in her extremities.
Just that morning Angela had glided through the lab, overjoyed at the first chance to wear her warmest scarf, her favorite leather gloves. Of course, they immediately came off once she experienced the heat in the building but she was probably wearing them now, Temperance thought. She's probably at Jack's in front of a fire.
Temperance sped up, as much as the conditions would allow, as she saw the FBI headquarters come into view. Just as she was about to cross the street to the warmth of the building a series of black SUVs came roaring out of the parking lot. Temperance stopped, allowing them to leave without hindering their progress wondering where they might be going, if Booth was among them. She was shocked back to reality by a cold spray as the last vehicle managed to hit a puddle, splashing dirty and freezing water onto the scientist.
Winter, she decided, was not for wimps.
Upstairs, relishing the warmth of his office and thankful no bodies had yet been discovered in some God foresaken frozen field, Seeley Booth was finishing the paperwork from his latest case. Maybe, he thought with a grin, Bones would be willing to walk over to the diner, grab some pie before dinner. His smile faded to a look of geniune astonishment and subtle amusement as his forensic anthropologist appeared wet, tired and red from her walk.
"Don- Doo Don't even... start!" she stuttered, immediately finding a warm place next to his space heater. Plopping down on the floor, Temperance began to warm her hands by rubbing them together.
"Start what?" He asked innocently, shutting his door and leaning against it. "Start asking why you wanted to walk in a snow storm? Ask where you bought your sorely lacking winter clothes? Or just ask what color long johns and ear muffs to buy you for Christmas?"
Temperance threw him a look of disgust, he was so cocky and so... dry! Damn him... Watching her shiver, waves of shock causing her entire torso to tremble uncontrollable Booth reached over and cranked up the thermastat on the wall. The heater came on immediately, sending a rush of warm air downwards. Noting her clothes were probably uncomfortable by this time and knowing without the distraction of bones, Temperance would be quite difficult to deal with, Booth reached for his gym bag stashed under his desk.
"These might be a bit big on you but they're clean and dry." He bargained, offering her a pair of navy sweats, large grey sweater and black shirt. Temperance held up the shirt suspiciously.
"FBI- Female Body Inspector?" Booth laughed self consciously.
"It was a gift, the vendors sell them on the mall, my Dad thought it was funny." Temperance raised a brow. "You don't have to wear them but I don't really want you getting in the car wet so..."
"I'll wear them, just point me to the bathroom." Booth smiled, if Temperance ever discovered the ratio of mens to womens restrooms in the building, evidence of the male dominated field, he'd never hear the end of it.
"No need," he quickly drew the blinds, "just change in here." If she had not already been sitting Temperance was certain she might have lost the strength in her legs.
"With you, the Female Body Inspector?" Came her retort, immediately setting Booth's face red.
"I'll just... uh... be right back. Uh, take your time, the door locks from the inside... yeah.." he eased out of the office before he said something else stupid leaving a smiling anthropologist in his office.
Leaning against the door frame in the hallway Booth shook his head. Maybe giving her my clothes to wear wasn't a good idea because, his deep seeded Catholic guilt tore through his conscious relentlessly, my very attractive, very untouchable partner is, at this moment, naked in my office. Oy vey, I can't work in there now without imagining the nakedness.
Oy vey indeed.
End Chapter
AN: Who thinks someone is going to peek?