A/N: This is just a super short, silly drabble I wrote for TV Realm over on LJ. Thanks for reading!
He's dreaming of a parade of pink elephants when her familiar text message ringtone jolts him awake. Bones. If it's a message from Bones in the middle of the night, it's either a ransom message or a booty call. He prefers the latter.
"Shit," he mumbles as his fumbling hand knocks the phone from the nightstand. He leans too far out of bed to retrieve it, and lands in a crumpled heap. It better be a booty call, because he needs her yet again to fix his back. Maybe with massage oil this time.
» Boot! Dro saexual intercouse! Ten minuitres?
He chuckles as he composes a response, squinting at the influx of light from the bright screen he holds just inches from his face.
» Drunk much, Bones?
Is she alone? He should go get her. It's late, and who knows where (or who) she'll end up (with) if she tries to get home by herself. As he pulls his jeans on and makes his way to the door, car keys in hand; the phone rings again.
» Hardly! Altough my fine motor dskills have beewn somewhat compromised and Ange"s drivinbg me to your place. Five minutres.
Five minutres, then. The gambler in him bets she won't make it ten before passing out on the other side of his bed.
But if there's one thing he loves, it's waking up next to Temperance Brennan.