Here's my latest challenge, after a while away from the fanfiction world, to write one-shots under 100 themes. I know I'll spend an eternity to complete this, but as a friend said to me, this is the perfect challenge to exercise my mind.
Just remember, reviews are always an incentive and are very appreciated, if you are reading this, please leave some feedback.
Frozen lakes and night storms,
Most you'll cross on your own,
You'll face the biggest landslides.
I'll catch you on the hardest falls,
I'll carry you inside this walls,
We'll sing through all the highest times.
David Fonseca - I see the world through you
Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.
In a mid autumn day, she found herself, once more, kneeled in front of what she so proudly called her job. To anyone else, the sight in the ground would drive away their attention. But not the one of the scientist who was now dressing her slender fingers in white gloves. Her hands held her auburn curls in disarray and clasped them into a neat ponytail in the back of her head.
Gloved fingers worked meticulously on the white shards of what used to be a human being before, alive and breathing, and now reduced to nothing but bones.
That was what she liked the most, not the inevitability of death, of course, but that she could find answers in the deepest core of the human body. No one could exceed her. That was also what had driven her there. Being on the top of the forensic anthropology board of scientists had its benefits along side with its disadvantages. One of them was leaving the pure study of ancient remains, which she loved so much, to be called upon the most degrading action of human kind, a murder.
And there she was, revolving fragments of bones, filled with dirt, between her fingers, with the last rays of the orange sunset burning in her face and the cool breeze playing with the strays of hair that stubbornly broke free from their grasp.
She finally rested her weight in her legs, her body stood still on her knees. A hand came up to clean the shade of sweat forming in her forehead and a not long after she had finished and declared it a murder victim, a tumult ran all around her and sirens were screaming in the air.
After a while, she heard hurried steps in her direction and for a fraction of second her eyes averted from the ground and rested in the figure that made his way, hastily, towards her. Her mind recognized the stereotype. Dark haired, tall, muscular. Dark suit, white shirt and black glasses. All in all an FBI agent, the elite of the United States. Or so they thought, in their ego induced minds.
She shook her head and returned her attention to the remains, they surely were more interesting than the over self-confidant man that soon would open his mouth and produce some nonsensical verdict about sexy scientists and grotesque human remains. For sure she had worked with many of those along the years, whenever her expertise was required in an official country matter, a murder for instances. They had the power to make her burst into a spiral of angry words at their antics and humorless jokes about her job.
In her line of sight she saw two legs dressed in black fabric. She recognized them as the ones of the man. She let her eyes travel the length of his long and large legs. Blue eyes came in contact with a little token of appraisal. Before her eyes there was a simple belt buckle, but not of the common kind, this one held a deep hue of red and words that referred to his man-hood.
'Cocky', it said.
She wanted to laugh, roll her eyes and burst into sarcastic laughter if she could, but her rational mind reminded her of the place and purpose of her visit. Nonetheless, a deprived snort erupted from deep in her throat, nothing too feminine in contrast to the surroundings. Her eyes eventually rolled in disregard and set once again in the ground.
"Who are you?" She spat the words in his direction, disdain evident in her voice.
"Special Agent Seeley Booth, and this is my murder investigation."
He reached one hand to his glasses and took them off, revealing bright brown eyes beneath.
For the first time she looked at him, truly saw him for the first time. Immediately she was drawn to those brown eyes, a deep shade of chocolate in contrast with the deep blue of her own. She didn't know why but they captivated her and held her steady in place in a mixture of amazement and respect.
His other arm extended forward in a simple gesture of sympathy.
For the longest of times she just stood there, knees deep in mud and looked straight to the hand that floated in front of her eyes, opened in her direction, waiting for her world to move.
Cautiously, she extracted one of her hands from the latex glove and placed it above his one. The thermal shock was immediate and a tingling sensation ran from her cold hand to her chest and hung there. She felt more than saw, his warm fingers wrap themselves around her small hand. He carefully pushed her hand to make her stand upright, eye to eye with him, as an equal.
And she finally spoke in a soft voice.
"My name is Dr. Temperance Brennan."
I hope you liked! Reviews would be lovely!