A/N A few things…
1) I wrote this when drunk. Very drunk. Very very drunk. As in, couldn't type drunk but wrote a OS anyway. That's how I roll baby! Sorry, the baby thing's a reflex. As is saying 'the baby thing's a reflex' ;)
2) I need to thank BookJunkie, Andrewsmom and JMHaughey. They had the (dubious) pleasure of reading and correcting this, which resulted in them attempting to translate drunk Laffers. They did an exceptional job! (No seriously, they should get a medal or something. I read the original and I struggled to figure out what the hell I meant! It is very funny though…maybe I should have posted that one instead? LOL)
3) Thank you JMHaughey for the title!
4) This is tongue in cheek and very light hearted. It's really not to be taken seriously (even if this is my dream for the show! I could die happy if this happened!)
Daisy Wick was having a very bad day.
She'd woken up to find she had overslept by an hour. AN HOUR! She, who always prided herself on arriving for work half an hour earlier than she was needed, had ended up being almost two hours late. No amount of grovelling had appeased her mentor, the fearsome Doctor Brennan, and she had found herself banished to Limbo.
Around midday, her spirits had risen when Agent Booth had phoned with a case. Sure, the fact that a mass grave had been discovered containing the bodies of seven men was tragic, but it did mean Daisy was allowed out of Limbo to assist. Daisy Wick was a big fan of seeing the silver lining, so she had approached the afternoon with a spring in her step and a smile on her face.
Until that moment. Even now, just thinking about it made her shudder. The afternoon had been drifting along perfectly. Working with her fellow interns to assist Doctor Brennan in identifying the remains was what she had been born to do and she loved it. Until, for a split second, she had lost her concentration. It wasn't her fault, not really. She'd overheard Doctor Brennan discussing her Lancelot with Agent Booth. She'd smiled as she listened to them, until she heard the one name she loathed above all others. Agent Shaw.
She'd glared as she heard the name, her focus no longer on the remains in front of her and instead on the partners as they whispered to one another. That particular name had cropped up in conversation between herself and Lance more times than she liked to remember, and she could never quite stem the flicker of insecurity she felt every time. Her boyfriend seemed particularly taken with the agent, and while he'd assured her (the one time she'd dared to mention it) that she had nothing to worry about she couldn't quite prevent the seeds of doubt from creeping in.
And then it had happened. She, Daisy Wick, star intern with a ridiculously bright future ahead of her, had done the unforgivable. She dropped a bone. Of a murder victim. On the platform. She didn't think she'd ever forget the look of abject horror on her mentor's face, closely followed by one of incredible anger. She'd glanced around herself frantically, almost as if she was looking for someone to reassure her that she had NOT just committed the ultimate sin. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Booth cross himself, and that one movement confirmed her worst fear. When she had forced herself to glance at the still silent world famous anthropologist, one hard look had Daisy scurrying from the platform, with the express order to NOT set foot back in the Lab for the remainder of the day.
That is how she found herself sat in the diner, a lone cup of coffee in front of her as she cursed the events leading up to her current predicament. Daisy Wick liked to call herself an optimist. She always saw the bright side, and she always, without a doubt, woke up looking forward to what the day could bring. Today, however, she chose to wallow. She decided to take the opportunity to feel sorry for herself for once, until she could rally and begin a new day tomorrow.
The sound of the door to the diner opening pulled her from her self-pity, and the cry of a small child drew a grimace. For all her perkiness children weren't really her thing and she took the arrival as a sign for her to leave. She threw some bills on the table and signalled to the waitress, indicating the money with a wave of her hand before walking out of the diner.
She contemplated hailing a taxi before she decided the walk would do her good. She wandered down the sidewalk, glancing about her as she did so. She had been given strict instructions not to return to work, so she took the opportunity to enjoy the remainder of the day. Her Lancelot's birthday was coming up, and the way she saw it, now was as good a time as any to finally sort out his gift. Of course, there was the more…personal gift she'd give him when they were alone, but she needed something to give him that he could show in public.
She passed outside a shop window, scanning the content of the display before a slow smile began to spread on her face.
A scant ten minutes later she left the aforementioned shop, one large gift box clutched in her hands as she continued on her way. She paused on the sidewalk, glancing to her left before she began to cross the road. She was lost in her thoughts, her mind filled with the image of her man's face as he opened his present. The sound of tyres screeching barely encroached on her conscience. Screams permeated the air but she remained oblivious.
The officer on duty sighed to himself as he took the last of the witness statements. He'd taken statement after statement from man, woman, and child and each individual stated the exact same thing. If only she'd looked right.
A/N See? I'd die happy ;)
Also, thank you to the people who have been PM'ing me regarding my other fics. I want to assure you that they will be completed, and I haven't abandoned any of them. Just bear with me, OK? :D