(After the 'Doom in the Boom')
Thanks for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.
I definitely don't own Bones.
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Sitting in the break room, Booth listened to a couple of his agents talking about fantasy football. Their picks were pathetic as far as he was concerned and he knew those two had about as much chance of winning as his youngest son, Hank the Tank.
Agent Kwon, angry that his friend was giving him a hard time about his picks turned towards Booth and tried to involve him in the conversation. "Come on Agent Booth. You believe this guy? He picked . . . "
Interrupting Kwon, Booth stood up and shook his head. "I don't think the FBI pays you two to sit around on your asses all day and talk football. Agent Bridges aren't you supposed to be interviewing Daniel Deacon right now?"
His coffee cup almost empty, Bridges held up his cup. "I'm letting him stew for a couple of hours and I decided to get a cup of coffee while I wait. I'm ready for the interview. I have all the information I need to hang him. I just need to unsettle him a little to get his confession. He's nervous already and I want to ramp that up a little. We don't really need his confession, but you know Caroline. She likes us to dot all our I's and cross our T's."
His coffee burnt from sitting in the pot too long, Booth poured the coffee in the sink and left the break room. As he was leaving, he heard Kwon quietly complain, "He sure has been moody lately. Is it our fault that four cops were killed by two kids?"
His mood sour, Booth stalked down the hallway, radiating irritation. Those that knew that look on his face found someplace else to be. Those new to the bullpen took their cue from the veterans and followed them out of the area.
Entering his office, Booth closed the door behind him. Settled behind his desk, he turned to his monitor and googled Fantasy Football. Once the options were displayed, he leaned back on his chair and started his litany.
One, I like to gamble but gambling can't give me what I want. Two, what I want is my family. Three, I need my family and gambling would take that away from me. Four, I love Bones and she loves me, but if I start gambling again she'll either kill my sorry ass or she'll divorce me which would be the same thing and that would cause number three to happen.
His list complete, Booth said a quick prayer to St. Jude asking for his help to stay clean and once he was satisfied that he'd ridden the crest of the wave to calmer water, turned towards his computer, closed the Google search and turned his attention back to the pile of reports sitting on his desk.
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