A/N: Well hello kids. This is what you asked for and I gave it to you. If you have any ideas of how to continue this further, drop me a line. If not I'll leave it here. If anything in this chapter offends you, then I'm sorry. Not trying to insult you or anything!
I was once again, impressed by the amount of people who found that funny. One person even called me hilarious. All I've got to add is, if you think these comments are giggle-worthy, then I am 10 times as bad with crazy comments in real life. My friends will vouch for me. Enjoy!
Saturday night found the squint squad well under way to being completely wasted. And it wasn't long before Brennan decided to get Booth home. It was the same bar as before, so naturally the car park was overflowing. Once again, the long haul to the car began.
"Booth, I think you're just a bit tipsy," she said, deciding to stay sober herself that night.
"Ah but my fair lady," he said with a cheeky smile, "You love me this way."
"Of course, I totally love the fact that you are now a drunken idiot," she replied sarcastically.
"Why don't you love me Bones?" he asked her. But before she could reply he said, "It's ok, don't answer. I know why. You do love me, you just don't want to admit it."
"And why would that be?" she said, brow crinkled in confusion.
"Because I'm too sexy for my own good."
Oh God, he thinks he's Johnny flaming Depp now. Why, oh why me? Her thoughts asked her this but she couldn't come up with an answer. Apparently drink made Booth deliriously happy and too damn cocky.
A few steps on, he put his hand on her ass and smiled, "Bones, will you have sex with me?"
Her answer came as a quick slap on the wrist and a curt, "I'd rather die a virgin."
With this, he began to babble nonsensically. " Why can't you act normal and be quiet?" she asked exasperatedly.
He, also became exasperated, "Why can't you act normal and have sex with me?" He waved his hands around in absurd gestures.
Booth was not so much of a gent when drunk. "Why did we ever agree to go out drinking with you?" Brennan asked this more of herself than of him.
But still, he was the one who came up with an answer. "Because…because…" Apparently his memory had went.
"We could marry you to Theodore Roosevelt," he suggested, smiling brightly at her.
"He's been dead quite a while," she patted his arm in a reassuring fashion.
Booth look at her like she had went mad. "No he's not. He's my next-door neighbour."
" At last, the car!" she shouted happily, glad at the thought she would be able to get rid of the intoxicated agent.
"Oh good, I get to show off my brilliant driving skills. I used to do rally driving pro, you know," he said, winking at her.
"Of course you did," Brennan replied in a patronizing tone. "Just like I'm about to become the Pope."
"Are you really?" he inquired excitedly as they moved towards the car. "You don't have your big cross." He pouted at her, his expression becoming more comical by the minute to Brennan.
"Why would I need a big cross?" she said, crossing the street carefully.
"So you could carry Jesus' body around with you." He gave her this answer as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She could almost hear an unspoken 'Duh' in the air.
And to think, Booth was a good Christian too. He shouldn't talk that way.
"Hold on, wait a second," she proclaimed suddenly. "You aren't driving. You are out your face on some Scottish beverage. I'm not letting you drive!"
"Scottish? Whisky! I love whisky!" he said in a hearty tone, clapping his hands together.
"That's obvious. You smell like a brewery," That answer was slightly muffled by the fact she was heaving Booth into the passenger's seat.
She clipped him in like a child before shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat. She clicked her own seatbelt and started the ignition.
Brennan drove along the road at a steady, if not slightly slow pace. She didn't want Booth getting excited and throwing up all over the place.
She spied what looked like an old homeless woman up ahead and began to brake. Instead Booth reached over and grabbed the leg which pushed the accelerator.
The car sped up and they were racing towards the old woman taking her time across the road with her shopping trolley full of cans.
Brennan managed to turn the wheel and avoid her, just as Booth shouted, "Ten points for old Granny!"
"Booth," she gasped, shocked.
" Jeez Bones, I wasn't really gonna hit her. Just ruin my fun, why don't cha? Plus if we had run her down, we could have got her trolley and tied it to the back." Booth took to staring out the window, annoyed with Brennan.
Brennan really didn't like a dangerous Booth. He would never act like this when sober. He was far too kind and thoughtful to be this uncaring but at the moment, that had all went to hell in a handbag.
"Isn't supposed to be cans you tie onto the back of your vehicle?" she shot him a questioning gaze before her eyes returned to the road.
"Yeah, isn't that what I just said?" She was getting real tired of him looking at her like she had the IQ of road kill.
At last, she managed to get him to his apartment. Apparently, Booth didn't need to open doors. He could walk through them. So when he ran, slap bang into his front door and fell backwards, it came as a bit of a shock to him.
Brennan laughed and helped him to his feet. They made it inside when Booth insisted on having more fun.
He went to get a glass of water, saying that they could have a water fight. Brennan really didn't think this was his best plan.
But she didn't need to worry. His aim was so poor, that he missed her by two metres and threw water all over his phone.
It was by chance, that at this precise moment, the phone began to ring. "It sounds a bit like Minnie Mouse drowning," he said, frowning, before wandering away into his bedroom.
It was Angela. "Hey Bren, you'll never guess. Zach and Hodgy are square dancing. They'd be great in Calamity Jane!"
Brennan had had enough pop culture references to last her a lifetime. "Good night Ang," she said, to her very drunken best friend before hanging up the phone.