Saturday, February 27, 2010

Fan Fiction Entry - "Booth's Rather Quiet, Rather Busy, Really Off-Day," by Winona

Booth's Rather Quiet, Rather Busy, Really Off-Day
by Patricia

(Scene: Booth's living room. He is sitting on the couch, elbows behind his head, in jeans and t-shirt. It's obviously not a work day. He's watching a DVR of last night's hockey game. A knock comes at the door. Booth expresses minor irritation, goes to door, peeks through peephole. Runs his hands through his hair, checks his breath...opens door. A young woman in mid-to-late 20's stands at the door. She's blonde, petite, and very squared-off. She smiles shyly at Booth).

Booth: Hey, Wilson. What are you doing here on a Saturday morning?

Wilson: Sorry to bother you at home, Agent Booth, on your day off.

Booth: No, no, come on in. What's up? Must be something that a cell phone couldn't handle, right?

Wilson: Ah, you are irritated with me. (She smiles slightly and sits on the couch but doesn't take off her coat).

Booth: No. No. Well, I mean I was just watching last night's game on my DVR but that's ok. I can stop it and watch later. What's going on? (He silences the DVR with the remote and sits at the edge of the couch).

Wilson: I just came by to say goodbye.

Booth: (looking confused) Uh, ok. Going on vacation?

Wilson: Leaving town. I handed in my resignation last night. I'm leaving the FBI.

Booth: Oh, Wilson, come on. I thought we had this figured out. I thought you were going to wait until the end of your probationary period. Give it another chance. You're too good not to give it another chance.

Wilson: I know I promised but I can't. I've thought about the case a lot and I just don't think I would have done anything differently...even knowing how everything turned out. I just wouldn't. And that makes me a risk to you or anyone else I partner.

Booth: Wilson, I told you before. Being an agent takes experience in the field...good and bad. Being partners with somebody...well, that takes work and trust and...time.

Wilson: I know. Speaking of partners, your partner probably wouldn't understand my being here, right? (She rises)

Booth: Bones? She's not the jealous type.

Wilson (cocking her head to the side): Sounds a little like you wished she were.

Booth: Stick to your story here, Wilson. What are you going to do now that you're leaving the bureau?

Wilson: Going back to Iowa. (Booth groans) I applied for a slot on the local police force. Small town. Not much action. I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me. I knew you had my matter what. That meant a lot.

Booth: Sure I can't talk you out of it? (Wilson shakes her head) Well, keep in touch, okay? You know the number. (He gives her a guy-hug) I hope you find what you're looking for.

Wilson: I hope you do, too, Agent Booth. Hope all your dreams comes true. (She exits.)

(Booth goes back to sit on the couch and clicks the remote. Gets up, grabs a beer from fridge, sits back down. Several rapid knocks at the door. Booth shakes his head, closes his eyes, turns off the remote, then rises and goes to the door.)

Booth: Who is it?

Male Voice (still outside door): Murphy, Sir. You asked for the reports on the Layton counterfeiting case. You asked that I deliver them to you personally when they arrived. (Booth looks irritated but doesn't open the door) Sir?

Booth: I meant at the office, Murphy. I'm at home. Not working. Relaxing. (He opens the door.) Not working.

Murphy (Murphy comes in. He's as tall as Booth, early 20's, government issue looks): Sorry, Sir. You didn't specify. I'm sorry. I'll take it back to the office. (Booth grabs the envelope from his hands).

Booth: Never mind. It's here now. I'll take a look at it. (Murphy stays in place) Later, Murphy.

Murphy: Yes, Sir. It's just that...well, since I'm here, I did have a question for you, Agent Booth.

Booth: What is it, Murphy? Make it quick.

Murphy (moving to sit on the couch): Ah, yes, of course. Oh, look, you're watching last night's hockey game. Great game, Sir. What an end...

Booth: Don't say another word or I will shoot you, Murphy. Now what do you want?

Murphy: I have a favor to ask you, Sir.

Booth: What kind of favor?

Murphy: Will you sign....that is...will you give me a recommendation for my transfer, sir?

Booth: Recommendation for transfer? Transfer to what? You're leaving the bureau?

Murphy: Yes, Sir. I've asked for a transfer to NSA.

Booth: When?

Murphy: There are openings now, Sir. I've already applied but am waiting for the final word. I thought if you gave me a good recommendation, that would help, Sir.

Booth: (to himself) Rats leaving a sinking ship. (to Murphy) Yeah, sure, kid. I'll do it. Just let me know where to send it.

Murphy: Thank you, Sir. I won't let you down.

Booth: What am I, your father? Get out of here so I can watch my game. (Escorts him to the door, Leans with his back against the door.) What a crazy day. Game time!. (He crosses to the couch, sets himself up to watch the game. Just as the first play is made, the doorbell rings) What? Are you kidding me? What is going on here?

(Booth crosses to the door. Peeks out the peephole.) Are you kidding me? Messenger delivery? On Saturday?

(Booth opens the door, signs for the package, and sourly closes the door again without saying anything to the delivery person). Who is this from? (He sits on the couch again, staring at the package but not opening it and watching the game. The phone rings. He picks up the phone.) What!?... (Completely changes attitude). Oh, hi, Bones! I didn't expect to hear from you today...What? What package? Oh, What's in the package? Is this from you?....I just got it, just now. You must be psychic. So, what is it?....Okay, okay. I'll open it....(Puts the phone down. Tears open the package. Sits stunned in silence as he takes out a powder blue formal suit. Picks up phone again) Temperance. This is amazing. It's the clothes I wore in my dream. The one I told you about. The dream about us. That is, All of us...Like it? Of course, I like it. I love it...I really miss those clothes. How did you find such a perfect match? Um, Wait. Why did you send me this?....Going where?....Tonight?....I've never heard of that club...just us?...What are you wearing?...Well, I'd like you to wear that little black dress that we bought in Vegas - Roxie...Great!...I'm going, I'm going. I'll hit the shower now....and Tempe...use your key to come in...(Fade)


lizzie said...

dont stop posting now. Finish the story!!

Add to Technorati Favorites