Hey everybody :) This little scene popped into my head while I was waiting for my next appointment to show up today. I mean, what else am I gonna do at the clinic other than think of Brennan and Booth, right? ;)
Anyways, this is just a trial run. Let me know if yall want me to continue :) I really have some awesome things planned out if you want it bad enough ;)
Speaking of wanting bad enough, Booth started to develop a little case of the hotts for Brennan on her first day of being at a new school. How does she respond? Will Booth ever be able to break her walls down? Hmmm...
Don't own them...oooh, if only if only...
Cringing as the first bell of the school year echoed through the hallway, Temperance Brennan wrapped her arms around her books and pushed through the herds of people. Looking for "318" on the front of a door, any door, she flinched as a tall guy almost ran into her. "Ugh," she groaned, continuing her search for her senior level English class.
She was a junior, but due to her previous test scores, her new school decided she would "fit better in the more advanced class." Finally finding the right classroom, she hoped, Temperance very quietly walked to the back of the class and sat in a desk. Within seconds, another bell had rang and her teacher shut the door.
"Let the torture begin," she thought to herself. English was her most hated subject. And as the teacher began to talk, Temperance quickly realized that first period was probably going to be the hardest class, simply because of the fact that she had to stay awake the whole time.
Jumping in her seat, the second period bell had scared Temperance. She shook her head and climbed out of the desk, glancing down at her schedule before walking to her next class. History in room 102. She groaned to herself, crumpled the paper back into her pocket, and left the room.
"105…104…" she counted to herself and she apparently walked down the hall in reverse order. By the time she hit room 103, someone crashed into her, knocking her back as her binders fell out of her arms. "Fucking hell," she snapped, not even acknowledging the person who hit her.
"Hey, sorry," someone mumbled, continuing to go about their business.
"Excuse me, young lady," Temperance heard as she stood back upright. She ignored it. "EXCUSE ME," the lady yelled this time.
Looking up, Temperance raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" she asked, her tone thick with mockery.
"We don't use that language here. Take this," she handed Temperance a piece of paper, "And march yourself right on to the office to see Principal Morris."
"Are…you…serious?" Temperance asked, not believing this was happening.
Putting a hand on her hip, the lady pointed a finger down the hall. "Go," she instructed.
Letting out an extremely noticeable groan, Temperance turned around and headed back to the front office. As she arrived, she plopped down into one of the chairs, crossing one leg over the other. "Um, can I help you, sweetheart?" the lady behind the desk asked with a strange look.
"Who I can only assume to be an incompetent so-called teacher down the hallway informed me that due to my language, I had to return to the front office in order to see Principal Morris," Temperance coldly told the lady.
Stepping into the main office, a man stopped in his office doorway. "And you must be Miss Temperance Brennan," he said, with a smirk across his face. She looked over at him with her eyebrows raised, as if she was asking "So what?"
"Come in here, Miss Brennan," he told her, extending an arm as he guided her into his office. She followed and sat in one of the small chairs across from his large desk. "And to what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked, sitting down in a leather desk chair.
"Like I told the secretary. A teacher told me to come in here because my language apparently isn't the kind that we use here," she told him as she crossed her arms.
While trying to hide a grin, the principal nodded. "Well, seeing as how it's only an hour into the first day of school, how about we just agree that you'll try to keep the vulgarities to a minimum, huh?" he asked. She nodded in agreement with an eye-roll and stood up. "What's your next class, Miss Brennan?" he asked, catching her before she opened the door.
She pulled her schedule back out as he walked back towards the door. "History with…really? He's a coach?" she asked, more to herself than to the principal. She shook her head. "With Coach Scott."
"Ah," he opened the door, holding it open for her. Looking out, he saw a familiar face. "Mr. Booth," he called as a young guy was about to leave the office.
"Sir?" he asked, turning around. His eyes looked up and down Temperance as a grin spread across his face. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her blue eyes looked cold as steal.
"Where are you headed?" Temperance wondered if this had anything to do with her, because at that moment, it didn't seem like it.
"History with Coach Scott," the guy replied, his backpack gently hanging on one of his shoulders.
"Oh, good," Principal Morris said as he ushered Temperance towards the guy. "Miss Brennan, Mr. Booth here will walk with you to history."
"No problem," Booth replied as another grin played on his lips. Holding the door open for the girl, his eyes widened as she didn't look at or say a word to him. A few steps out of the door, he finally broke the silence. "Brennan, huh? What's your first name?"
Temperance gripped onto her binders tighter as she clenched her jaw. She didn't have time or the patients for this idiot jock to be chatting her up.
"Oh, come on," Booth encouraged. "It won't kill you to make a new friend, would it?"
"Just shut the hell up," she smarted back at him as she stared down the hallway.
Turning his head to cock an eyebrow at her, Booth chuckled. "Feisty, eh? Ya know, I like that in a girl," he nudged her with his elbow.
She stopped suddenly and looked up at him, her blue eyes piercing his brown ones. "Touch me again and I'll kick your ass," she warned with her jaws still clenched. Booth's eyes widened as he realized she had resumed walking.
"You know I'm not scared of you, right?" he asked, not allowing himself to give up.
"I don't give a shit," she replied honestly, shifting her backpack on her shoulders as she opened the door to the history class.
Booth chuckled to himself as he entered the classroom, pulling the door shut behind him. He knew there wasn't a chance in hell that he was going to give up. He also knew he was actually going to have to work at getting this girl to open up.
