|The Man with the Chocolate Eyes
Author: notmagnificent PM
Brennan has an interesting dream about a man with chocolate eyes. Oneshot, Set just before Booth and Brennan meet. METAPHOR ALERT!Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Hurt/Comfort - T. Brennan & S. Booth - Words: 780 - Reviews: 11 - Favs: 5 - Follows: 3 - Published: 05-28-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4285357
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: This was inspired by a dream that a friend of mine had. She said she dreamed of a guy she'd seen around school, but never really talked to. The next week or so later, they started talking and becoming friends. Weird, no?
This is set just before Booth and Brennan begin their partnership. Happy reading!
Temperance is working on her book fastidiously. Her eyes are a bit glazed over from staring at the computer for so long, and her finger joints ache from furious typing. She is completely immersed in her work, trying to get the chapter finished before her first meeting with a publisher. Her tongue darts out to moisten her dry lips. She dims the lamp beside her desk, the only light in the windowless room.
She looks up and picks up a small vial of eyedrops, dotting each eye with two drops. Tempe blinks back the saline and surveys the room. It is small, and made of layer upon layer of sturdy bricks. A picture of Angela rests on the shelf, and nothing else. She looks back to her work, losing herself in the adventures of Kathy and Andy.
Knock, knock, knock.
She looks up at the steel door, brought out of her trance, and waits for the noise again.
Knock, knock, knock.
An inexplicable wave of terror washes over her. She freezes in place and waits for the visitor to leave.
Knock, knock, knock, the door chirps, a little more forcefully this time. Almost like a…
Thump, thump, thump, the stranger pounds on the door. Temperance starts to breathe a little heavier now, afraid of what the person at the door might do.
Thump, thump, thump.
A fierce pounding comes from the outside, and she backs into the corner. She starts to feel the urge to walk up to the door and greet whoever has been knocking with such persistence. Don't let him in, Temperance, she wills herself. He's going to hurt you.
Thump, thump, thump!
She can hear him pounding on the walls now, fighting to bring them down. She stays in the corner, heart and brain warring against one another.
After awhile, the room shakes and she can feel a layer of brick crumbling. Her breath hitches in her throat.
"Go away!" she shouts to the intruder. Another layer of sturdy brick disintegrates beneath his fist.
"Leave me alone! I don't want you in here!"
He fells layer after layer of brick, until Temperance can see his face. She takes in his light stubble, his tie with dice printed on it, his chocolate brown eyes.
The last section of wall falls, and he stands amongst the rubble, perfectly clean. His silhouette is illuminated by the light filtering in after so much darkness. He picks up a small pottery shard with two bright white bones painted on it.
"Bones?" he whispers. She nods, her eyes wide.
He extends his hand to her, and the overwhelming sense of safety radiating from him compels her to take it. He pulls her up and laces his fingers with hers.
She picks up a brick, starts to rebuild the wall that he's broken, but he stops her.
"Don't you think a little fresh air will do you some good?" She can't help but nod again, and they walk out of the room.
Temperance is sitting in her chair, eyes glazed over as she finishes a chapter of her book, just like before. But there is something different. The man with the chocolate eyes is there with her. He stands behind her chair, almost as if he is protecting her. The brick walls are not so thick anymore, and there are windows letting in light all around the two. The door is not as securely bolted, more inviting. There are new pictures adorning the wall. The photo of Angela still stands in its place, but now there are ones of her team at the Jeffersonian, of her brother, and one of the man with the chocolate eyes.
Brennan jerks up in her bed, the sound of her phone ringer alerting her to a new message. She rolls over and checks the time as she goes.
She shoots a glance over to her alarm clock. Unplugged.
She squints at the light filtering through the window and lazily presses the button on her phone to view the text message.
Message: Hey sweetie! U overslept (OMG). Get over here now. New FBI guy is here. Name's Booth. TOTAL HOTTIE!
Well, what'd you think? I kind of like the whole 'allegory/metaphor' thing. :D Please review!