Author's Notes: This story is somewhat based on me as well. :) I wrote it in, like, five minutes. Ficlet. No reviews concerning the shortness, please, I'm not in the mood.
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Everyone thinks she works late all the time because she's a workaholic with nowhere else to go.
And maybe that's part of it.
But the truth is, she works better at night.
She likes that the lab's quiet and there aren't any bickering squints to annoy her.
She likes that she can talk things out to herself and no one will overhear and think she's a whack job.
She likes that it's dark outside and it seems like the world's asleep, like nothing bad is happening - even if she knows that's not true.
She likes that her writer's block somehow disappears when it gets late and she has the whole place to herself.
Sometimes she tries to figure out why she accomplishes more at night, but she can only come up with one answer that she feels suffices:
Booth isn't there to fluster and distract her.
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End