Author's Note: This is just a little ditty that probably makes no sense at all - I just felt like doing some writing!
I do not own Tempe or Booth. I have no money. Do not sue.
Closing Doors
It was late. Too late, some would argue, to be only just getting home from work. Through the open curtains Temperance could see the glimmer of a waning moon, a cluster of stars framing it with a random pattern. The faint light of a street lamp glimmered from across the road and the shadows of night time creatures roamed the sidewalk. Every other living creature was asleep, it seemed.
She put her coat down on one of the chairs and flicked on a lamp. The day had been draining; too many dealings with people she really didn't want to have to speak to, too many people who were unable to understand anything except their own opinion. There had been too much paperwork, and then, at the end of it all, a body, or rather the remains of one. Just bones. Old bones. Found next to a body that was more complete, and a third in the later stages of decomposition. Three bodies in a garden with roses growing over them.
Tempe shuddered as the quietness of the apartment took a grip on her. She walked back to the door and checked it was locked. She rarely felt unnerved, but tonight she was almost unsettled. She glanced at the phone, half wishing it to ring. Generally she would rather spend an evening with research papers, or her laptop, writing her book. But tonight she wanted company.
She hadn't seen Booth since lunch time, when he had been called out to the scene. When she had arrived there he had already gone, a message that he would catch up with her later. Sometimes that was the case and sometimes it was nice to have that space, and be able to do what she did best.
Today she had missed him, missed his presence, missed Wong Fu's afterwards to discuss the matter in hand. The feeling didn't scare her, she was too tired for any extreme reaction. She opened the fridge and pulled out the remains of dinner from two days ago, mac and cheese, and placed it in the microwave, the noise from the machine some comfort over the silence. Tempe sat down and closed her eyes, sleep hanging just around the corner. The microwave pinged and she ignored it, the emptiness of the air resuming. It still didn't feel right.
She stood up, lacking energy, and made her way back to the kitchen and a dinner she wasn't hungry for. Then she stopped, mid way, mid-step, her ears catching the hint of a noise from outside the apartment. A louder noise came and she made her way to the door, wondering who was calling at this time of night.
Tempe peered through the spy hole and her heart missed a beat. Puzzled, she unlocked the door. He stood there, his eyes dark and portentous, hair damp. She stepped out of the way and he crossed the threshold, closing the door behind him.
She looked at him, wondering what he had come for, at this time, with something about him that suggested this was about anything other than work.
Tempe looked up at him. "Booth," she said, as he pulled off his coat and draped it over hers.
And that's where it ends folks. I know it's been done before and it will be done again, but it was fun writing it! Thanks for reading.