Without even glancing at the caller I.D, Brennan flicked her mobile phone open and held it to her ear, shaking her hair out of the way as she did.
"Brennan."
"Bonesh! Bonesh! I'm soooo glad you called me."
Brennan's head did a little jerk backwards in confusion.
"I didn't call you, Booth. You called me."
"You're so silly. Did I ever tell you how silly you are? You are very much silly. That's a whole…this much."
At this point he must have attempted to measure the amount by holding his two hands the relevant distance apart, forgetting all about the phone. There was a thump in Brennan's ear and, a few seconds later, Booth's voice returned, chuckling to himself.
"Silly phone."
A slight smile broke out across Brennan's face.
"Are you drunk, Booth?"
"Am not! You're the one who's…hic…drunk."
"Booth, where are you?"
"Uuuuuuuuuuuum." He drew the syllable out for about ten seconds, by the end of which, Brennan was ready to strangle him.
The next voice in Brennan's ear was much deeper than Booth's and far more sober.
"Are you the bones lady he hasn't shut up about all night?"
"Um…I guess."
In the background she could hear an incredibly whiny voice incessantly repeating "'Smy Bones, not your Bones. 'Smy Bones, not your Bones…"
The new voice increased in volume, attempting to drown out Booth's repetitions.
"I'm Larry, the bartender here at Heaven & Hell. Your friend is out here at a stag party with us. He was being the responsible, sober one. Unfortunately his friends seemed to think he was being a spoilsport and so they laced his drink with vodka when he was in the toilet. Hence his present condition. I think he's ready to go home, though. Do you think it would be possible for you to come pick him up?"
It didn't cause her a second's hesitation. "Sure, no problem."
Larry gave her directions and Brennan promised to be there as soon as she could.
Fifteen minutes later, she was pulling open the bar door and peering through the hazy murkiness, searching for her partner.
A shout informed her she had been spotted.
"Bonesh! Bonesh!"
She saw Booth running full pelt towards her. Not knowing what else to do, she moved out of the way of the door, planted her feet squarely on the ground, closed her eyes and braced herself for the impact.
Ten seconds later, she was still waiting. She slowly peeked an eye open. She noticed a man behind the bar, waving, trying to catch her attention. Once he had succeeded, he pointed to the door. It seemed her partner had missed her completely and had simply continued moving.
Raising a hand in thanks, she turned around and jogged back outside.
Booth was standing in the car park, looking completely lost, head moving frantically back and forth.
Brennan tapped him on the shoulder. His relief was extreme.
"BONESH!! Found you." He pulled her into one of the tightest hugs she had ever participated in. Gasping for breath and feeling her feet being lifted off the ground, she started pummelling his back with her closed fists and screaming into his chest.
"Boof! BOOF!!"
Eventually, he set her back down. He started wagging his finger at her.
"Couldn't find you atall, atall. Looked everywhere…"
On the 'everywhere', he decided to do a spin around to emphasise his point. Unfortunately, his brain moved faster than his feet and he tripped up over himself.
With a loud call of "Man overboard!" he fell, rather unceremoniously, onto his backside. He sat mutely for a number of seconds, stunned, occasionally shaking his head, then began to giggle.
After a moment or two, he noticed Brennan still standing over him and roughly plonked her down next to him.
"Oow! Booth!"
He giggled harder.
"Did you see me, Bones? I went splat!" He doubled up, gasping for breath.
"Then…then…then so did you!" Tears were streaming down his face, his features completely contorted. In spite of herself, Brennan joined in on the laughter, though to a far lesser degree.
Presently, he calmed down. As he did, he seemed to forget all about her sitting next to him. He gazed curiously about, humming absently to himself.
His increasingly out of tune warbling was getting on her last nerve, so she poked him experimentally with her toe.
"Come on, Booth, I think it's time we got you home." She stood up, brushed off the seat of her pants and looked down expectantly at him
He jumped in surprise at her voice. Once he had registered what she had said he nodded vigorously and stretched out his arms towards her, wanting her to help him up.
"Booth! I can't pull you. You're too heavy."
He wiggled his fingers in reply.
Several minutes later, both partners were upright. Booth was furiously rubbing his nose from when one of many attempts had gone seriously awry and Brennan had succeeded in kneeing him in the face.
Apologising profusely, she half-pulled, half-dragged him over to the car. As she stood fumbling for her keys, Booth decided the time was right for a little wander, complete with off-rhythm skipping and a deafening rendition of "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands". All in all, it took a lot longer than it should have for the two to enter and strap themselves into the vehicle.
They had barely started moving when Booth thought it would be fun to point out every single solitary car that they passed. Even the parked ones. This incredibly annoying idea was accompanied by frantic hand gestures, just in case Brennan didn't realise what he was referring to.
"Car…car…CAR…carCARcar…car…car...CARCAR…carCAR…car…carCAR…carCARCAR…"
Needless to say, within a few seconds, Brennan was screaming at him to shut up.
He turned his back on her and sulked out of the window. Soon enough he forgot all about being angry and decided it was time to get ready for bed. He had his shoes and socks off before Brennan realised what he was doing.
She spent the rest of the ride tying to convince him that this really wasn't the right place. By the time they pulled up at Booth's apartment he was topless, shoeless, sockless, and his pants were pulled down to his knees. Brennan glanced wearily at her partner, whose face was currently stuck to the passenger side window, snoring loudly.
Well that answers the briefs or boxers question Angela's always wondering about
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"I was NOT drunk!"
Brennan sighed heavily.
"Of course not, Booth. You regularly decide to waltz down the hall with me when you're shirtless. And when your elderly neighbour pops her head out to see what all the racket is, your normal response is always to 'sush' yourself and start exaggeratedly tiptoeing down the corridor. In the wrong direction, I might add."
"Yeah, well…"
"And what about cheering me on when I was trying to put the key in the lock? And don't you ever try to cartwheel in my presence again. You nearly took my eye out."
"But that was because…"
"Also, when I was trying to get you in the door, you decided I looked like a horse and tried to climb on my back. Needless to say it didn't work. But you still thought it was a great idea to use your tie as a whip anyway."
Booth made a galloping motion, knees flying. "Gee up!"
"OH, and when I told you to please pull your trousers up in the car, you asked me if I was enjoying the view and that there was no charge for touching."
Booth poked her a number of times in the side. "Just admit it, you loved it." In spite of himself, his face has reddened significantly. He had really hoped that particular, rather hazy, memory had been a dream. A terribly embarrassing dream. He couldn't possibly have pulled his trousers down in front of her. Right?
She slapped his hand away and strode purposefully into her office.
"And don't even get me started about the trouble I had getting you into bed."
A sharp intake of breath and a squeal told them the room wasn't empty.
Angela had been arranging her sketch of the current victim's face on Brennan's desk, ready for when she arrived. Which, surprisingly, hadn't been at the crack of dawn.
She turned to face them, her face more brightly lit up than Brennan had ever seen it.
"You guys finally gave in! Ohmygodohmygod!! Brennan! Details! Booth, shoo! I'm delighted for you and all…you poor thing…you looked wrecked. She is a feisty one! But seriously, girl talk."
Both Brennan and Booth's jaws had hit the floor at exactly the same instant. The two had also started defending themselves at the same moment, though without so much as looking at each other. After a few seconds of increasingly frantic blabbering, Angela stuck two fingers in her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. The partners stopped instantly.
Moving towards the door, Booth cast a quick glance at the wall behind Brennan's head.
"Listen…eh…I'm going to step out for a minute. You can explain the…ah…events of last night to Angela and I'll be back when you're done."
At these words he made a speedy exit and Angela started screaming anew.
It took Brennan so long to convince her friend that nothing of THAT nature had actually occurred, she half wished she was dealing with an intoxicated Booth once more.
Eventually, Angela was set on the right track. Although incredibly disappointed, she was making the most of this turn of events by extracting every ridiculous detail from her all-too-willing informant.
Some time later, Angela was leaning back in Brennan's chair, helpless with laughter. Brennan, standing in front of the desk, couldn't help but add a few chuckles of her own.
"Hang on…hang on…he actually built a fort?!"
Brennan nodded pityingly. "A very poorly constructed fort. That man would never last alone in the wild… Then, when I insisted that it was time for him to come out and go to bed, there was a big silence for about twenty seconds before he suddenly burst out, screaming at me to catch him. Of course, he ran straight into the coffee table. He insisted that I bring him into the kitchen and put a plaster of his knee while he sat on the counter."
Angela was shaking back and forth in the chair as waves of silent laughter coursed through her at the idea of the macho F.B.I. being reduced to such childish behaviour.
"It took forever because he kept flinging his legs around the place and singing some inane song about a pineapple, an ocean and a sponge. He only seemed to remember about one in five words so it was incredibly repetitive. As he was singing, he kept attempting to jab the cartoon characters on the plaster, but, more often than not, he got me instead."
When Angela had completely giggled herself out, she suddenly placed her hands on the desk and cocked her head as though remembering something.
"Did you say that he took his trousers off in the car?"
At this point, Booth re-entered the room.
"BONES!! Did you tell her what I was wearing under my trousers?"
He marched up to Brennan, looking extremely flustered.
Shaking her head innocently, Brennan replied "Oh course not."
Increasingly nervous about the direction the conversation was taking, Booth turned and began to drag Brennan out of the office.
As she was still facing the opposite direction, Brennan saw Angela mouth "Briefs or boxers?" at her.
She slowly shook her head.
Angela scowled at her friend's refusal to share the juicy gossip.
It was only when Brennan raised her eyebrows significantly that it dawned on Angela the other possible meaning a shake of the head could have.
Her mouth dropped open into a delighted, incredulous 'o'.
Just as they reached the door, Brennan shook off Booth's arm and stepped slowly back into the room with a "Wait."
Her manner and tone of voice suggested that something relatively boring and unimportant had just occurred to her.
Careful to keep her voice both disinterested and vague, Brennan asked, "Angela, do you remember what it was we learned about certain…ah…people's nicknames?"
Booth, figuring Brennan had just recalled some obscure detail about the case, had already continued out the door.
Angela nodded excitedly and leaned forward conspiratorially.
Brennan pressed her lips together against the smile that was forming, nodded once as though in approval and swept out of the room.
Angela threw her hands up in frustration.
"Brennan!"
Two seconds later, Brennan poked her head back in the door, a devilish grin on her face and an irresistible twinkle in her eye.
"I can't even BEGIN to explain to you how miniscule the meaning of his must be."