Disclaimer: I do not own Chase or any of its characters.
A/N: I know the writers came up with something else to explain how she got the nickname 'Boots', but this is what the plot bunnies brought to me.
Jimmy Godfrey, U.S. Marshall and true Texan to boot was sitting alone in the bullpen, reviewing the case on their latest fugitive, Don Taylor. Taylor allegedly murdered five people and ran when given bail. He and Annie had been close to apprehending him twice, the last instance being at a coffee house in Katy, Texas. So, while they were waiting on the data dump from the computer Taylor used, Jimmy looked for anything that they might have missed and Annie had gone home for the evening.
"Hey Jimmy, got your info." One of the tech's dropped a packet on his desk. Taking the offered clipboard, he signed the evidence into his custody and handed it back to the guy. "Thanks, man."
"Now, what were you looking up that was so important," Jimmy said to himself. As he was flipping through the pages, he came across a page that stopped him in his tracks.
"Come on, come on, pick up your phone."
Beeep. "You have reached the voicemail of Annie Frost…" He slammed the phone shut. "Damn it!" He grabbed the radio by his desk. "I need a unit at 765 Rancher Street. I repeat, send a unit to 765 Rancher." Grabbing his keys and gun, he ran out the door.
"There's a yellow rose in Texas that I am going to see." Annie sang, while rinsing the shampoo out of her hair. Today had been rough without much of a lead, so she had decided to actually go home for the first time in what felt like a week. It was nice to actually use her own shampoo rather than the stuff they had at the office.
Hearing a tinkling of a bell, she froze, her hand stilling. She had bells on all of her doors rather than locking them most of the time and they were a much better alarm system than something that could be just turned off. She stuck her head out of the curtain and listened again. Nothing.
Keeping the shower running, she slowly got out and pulled one of her Velcro towels from the cabinet. Toeing to the door, she listened at the doorway and slipped inside her room. She grabbed the gun from her bedside table, turned the safety off, and slipped on the shoes next to her bed. Crouching next to her bedroom door, she slowly opened it a crack, looking out into her living room. Not noticing anything at first, she opened the door a little more.
Slamming on the brakes and throwing the truck into park, Jimmy vaulted out of his seat and ran in to the house. "Annie!"
Hearing steps to his left, he tracked in that direction with his gun. "He ran out the back!" Annie yelled, as she slid into his view. He took off toward the back door, sprinting ahead of Annie and hearing the bang! of the door hitting the wall behind him after throwing it open.
Taylor was running as fast as he could, but it wasn't fast enough for two bound and determined U.S. Marshals. Jimmy tackled him to the ground and Taylor came up swinging. Taking one to the stomach, Jimmy swung back with all of his strength, catching the fugitive in the jaw, knocking him unconscious. Flipping him onto his stomach, he brings the guy's arms around and cuffs them.
Finally turning to look back at his partner, he gets the surprise of his life. She is standing there, holding a gun at Taylor, wearing only wet hair, a towel, and cowboy boots.
He grins up at her. "Hey Annie, nice boots."