The three best friends enjoyed their weekly happy hour, choosing this evening to sit on the patio of a Mexican restaurant near Alice's condo to take advantage of the warm weather and sunshine. They spent an hour, and one pitcher of margaritas, trashing the man one of them, a blonde named Susan, had recently stopped seeing. Accompanied by a fresh pitcher, they continued listing the faults and flaws in every other man they knew, bemoaning the unworthiness of the male sex in general.
"I blame their mothers," Susan said, tipping the third pitcher to refill her glass. "They raise these precious little boys, doing eveything for them, telling them how special they are and how they deserve everything, and who gets stuck paying that bill? We do." The three women clinked glasses together.
"Damn straight," Meghan agreed, her chestnut ponytail swinging.
"Preach," Alice nodded, tossing her head as the wind brushed strands of inky black hair over her face.
"I mean, are we really asking that much?" Susan continued. "Is it too much to want a man who understands responsibility? A man you can count on. A man you can trust. A man who . . ."
"Has a job!" Meghan snorted. The glasses touched in another toast.
"I mean, I know we can't expect perfection, right? We have to compromise on some things. You know, settle." Susan made a face. "It's not like I'm expecting a romance novel hero to come walking in here."
"You need to be kissed, Miss Scarlett, and kissed often!" Meghan added a raised eyebrow to her very bad imitation of Clark Cable.
"I could be happy with Mr. Darcy," Susan added, resting her chin on her palm.
"As long as he looks like Colin Firth!" Alice exclaimed. Once more, the glasses clinked.
"I'm thinking, Heathcliff," Meghan sighed.
"Ewww, no thanks," said Susan, shaking her head. "There are plenty of mad, tortured men out there to choose from right now."
"I'm holding out for Booth," Alice said simply, dipping her chip deeply into the guacamole.
"Oooooh, Booth."
"Booth."
Meghan and Susan spoke together, then the three glasses touched rims again.
"Now, there's a man you can trust."
"Honest."
"Strong."
"Sexy as hell."
"I would buy a whole roll of tickets on that ride," Alice laughed
"The way he looks at Brennan," Meghan sighed.
"And she doesn't even know!" Susan exclaimed. "How can she not know?"
"Oh, she knows," Alice nodded knowingly. "She has to! She just ignores it, because she likes her nice, safe little world."
"I'm just saying," Meghan added, spreading the last of the three pitchers between the three glasses, "that if the man brought me Chinese food at midnight, I would not let him leave. Am I right?" She looked at each of them. "Am I right?"
Cries of agreement rose from her friends as they raised their glasses together once more.
"Just once, when she opens the door and he's standing there, I'd like to see her throw herself at him! Jump him, right then!" Meghan laughed. "Show us the good stuff!"
"At least get his shirt off," Susan giggled.
"Oh, yea," Meghan smiled back, fanning herself ostentatiously with one hand. "Definitely get him shirtless."
"I just wish he had some chest hair," Alice sighed. The other two women looked at her with raised eyebrows. "What? I like chest hair!"
"It's too bad men like him don't really exist," Susan sighed, frowning at her drink.
"It makes for good TV, though," Alice answered. "And good books. That's why we watch shows like that and read romance novels – because it's a way to escape into a perfect world with the perfect guy."
"And then we go back to mommy's precious little boys," Susan grimaced. She looked at her watch, then motioned to the waiter. The women finished their drinks and gathered their things as the waiter handled their money and credit cards.
Outside the restaurant, the women said their goodbyes with hugs and kisses on the cheek and promises of email about where to meet the following week. Meghan and Susan hailed a cab to share; Alice shut the door behind them and waved as the cab pulled out before turning to walk the few blocks to her building.
At the corner, she waited with a small group of people for the light to turn. Behind her, two teenagers began arguing loudly over what seemed to be shared possession of a Nintendo Wii game system, and whose turn it was this week to keep it at home. The argument escalated into shouting, then Alice was jostled roughly as one of the boys fell against her.
"Don't push me, bro!" he straightened, lunging for the other boy.
Dodging the outstretched hands, the other boy reached out again and shoved violently. Alice, one foot in the air as she stepped off the curb with the change in the signal, felt herself go off balance as the first boy was thrown into her again. Her reflexes dulled by the alcohol, she faltered as she went crashing down to the street, the sound of her skull hitting the pavement reverberating loudly in the small crowd.
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Alice woke groggily a few hours later, her head pounding. She lay quietly in bed for a few moments, taking stock of her body and trying to place any injuries she might have received from being shoved into the street. Not all the pounding was coming from inside her head, she realized as the sound of someone banging loudly on her front door filled her apartment. She got out of bed slowly and shuffled to her bedroom door.
"Ouch!" Her eyes watered when her knee banged against an unfamiliar object in the dark hallway. "Who the hell moved that . . ." Limping now, she struggled to open the locks on the door, cursing beneath her breath when one of them seemed to stick. Finally, she opened the door with a jerk.
"What? Do you know what time it is? Somebody better be dying . . . ." Her voice faded to nothing.
Seeley Booth stood at her front door, two cups of takeout coffee in hand.
"No, he's already dead. Or, she's already dead." He muscled his way past where she stood unmoving, blocking the way into her apartment. "Bones, why aren't you dressed? I called you an hour ago." He put the coffee cups down on the sidebar, tapping a light switch to flood the room with a warm glow. "Come on, chop chop!" he clapped. "We've still got an hour's drive to the crime scene." Alice stared, mouth hanging open. "C'mon, Bones, you've had less sleep than this before." With his hands on her shoulders, Booth turned her toward her bedroom and walked her down the hallway to her bedroom. "Get dressed. The clock's ticking."
Thoughts whirling, Alice stepped into the room. Moonlight cast a pale glow over an unfamiliar room; she looked around in shock until she saw another door in the corner standing open at an angle. She pushed it wide, fumbled for the switch in the corner and then exclaimed in shock as the small room filled with bright, clear light.
The reflection blinking back at her, one hand covering her mouth, belonged to Dr. Temperance Brennan.