A/N: Surprising how inspirational one room in a friend's house can be. Right down to the waste basket. XD Thanks for the reviews so far! Enjoy.
Waste Baskets.
Patrick stood in the break room, stewing a cup of tea, lovingly holding the mug in his grip. He dunked the teabag in and out until he considered the beverage drink-worthy. Flinging the soggy teabag into the sink with a crisp splat, sending droplets of mid-brown tea dribbling towards the drain, Patrick sighed softly as he inhaled the soft aroma rising from the hot mug in barely visible clouds of steam. He took a sip and revelled in the rippling warmth that flooded through him as he swallowed. Damn good stuff.
Patrick began to saunter from the room, his eyes now firmly locked on the couch, into which he would soon burrow. But then he paused momentarily, and his course changed direction to the right when he thought of something he needed to tell Lisbon. But unfortunately, the thoughts that then filled his brain caused a...distraction, which led to a miscalculation in his steps. Patrick's toe caught on the corner of the wall on the way out of the break room, and he was soon flying through the air, a yelp parting from his lips. A few precious droplets of tea soared into the air, hovering for a second before plummeting down and splashing on the cool wood flooring. Patrick managed to land precariously on one foot, barely managing to get his other foot out in front of him to stop him tumbling to the floor in a rather disordered heap. He paused, now stabilised, and let out a low whistle. He quickly righted himself and examined the contents of the faded blue mug. Just over half still remained.
Patrick let a relieved smile slip across his face before beginning his path towards Lisbon's office again, only to be hindered once more. A weight seemed to be dragging at his foot...and a kind of...heavy clunk. Patrick's eyes snapped down to his right foot, and he groaned softly, examining how the waste basket had wrapped itself around his shoe, bending his toes back slightly.
'Owww...' he muttered.
Looking from mug to foot and back again, he lifted his waste basket clad foot into the air slightly and softly shook it, trying to dislodge the basket. His eyes narrowed fractionally when it wouldn't budge. He blew out heavily and shook a bit more. It was as if the meshed metal creation was mocking him as he shook and kicked but to no avail.
'Damn. YOU,' he mumbled, a kick coming between each word. Patrick then stopped, looking at the tea sloshing around in his mug. Blowing out again, he waddled into the kitchen. Step, clunk, step, clunk...
He delivered the mug safely onto the table and stepped out of the room again, ensuring a safe distance between him and any object he might lash out at while trying to pry the waste basket's cold grip from his foot. He pushed and pushed at the rim of the basket, trying to pull his foot out, but only succeeding in hopping on the spot and crashing into the wall. Beginning kicking again, he drew several bemused looks from a couple of agents walking past, but the weird thing was, nobody actually stopped to help. Patrick grimaced and lashed out one more time.
A smile lit up his face as the tightness around his foot dissipated, but the grimace was soon back as he watched the basket fly across the hall. Maybe in a previous life, the waste basket had had some kind of vicious intentions, because the sound of crashing and cracking filled the air as the metal projectile crashed into one of Lisbon's office windows. The cracks webbed out from the contact point. Patrick froze. He bit his lip. And then Lisbon came charging out of the office. (And believe him, today was a bad day for Lisbon. She'd been cooped up in that office all day. She was like a caged, miniature bull...with red eyes). Patrick made quick work of darting into the break room and taking a gulp of tea, chucking the mug into the sink before dashing out the other side and making his escape.
Lisbon took one look at the waste basket lying beneath the huge crack in her window.
'JANE!'
