a short fic: "Out to Dinner"
~~
Fanfic100’s #058 Dinner.
Title: Out to Dinner.
Author: Rodlox.
fb is welcome.
Summary: Booth’s taken Brennan out to dinner, but when has anything with Brennan ever been simple?
Archive: the Bone Yard.
~~
“See?” Booth asked, leaning a little towards her; they were both seated, had been for…don’t look at your watch. “Now, isn’t this better than just grabbing a bite in the lounge?” And can you please stop that?
Brennan’d been thrumming her fingers against the table for at least five minutes, non-stop. Stopped thrumming when the waiter finally came back. “Steak for you, sir,” handing that platter to Booth, “and chicken for the lady,” giving that platter to Brennan.
“Hold on,” Brennan said, pulling the knife out of her rolled-up napkin, tapping it against the chicken.
“Is something wrong?” surprised. Usually complaints don’t come this soon.
I was afraid of this. “I ordered chicken,” Brennan said.
The waiter nodded. “That is chicken.”
“There’s no bones.”
“That is correct.”
“I don’t eat boneless vertabrates.”
“While I’m not sure what you mean, I can assure you that we never serve meals with the bones still in them.”
Brennan stared at the waiter, who looked like he was trying not to swallow nervously. “That’s how he died,” Brennan said to herself, though Booth, the waiter, and the nearest tables heard her. Brennan got up, and - ignoring the waiter’s flinching away - ran for the door.
“Guess we get doggy bags tonight,” Booth said to the waiter, who nodded with wide eyes. “I’ll be back later to pick them up,” and headed for the door, wondering if Brennan was still there, or if she’d gotten as far as the car.
There were distinct advantages to being the one with the car keys.
~~
The end.
Fanfic100’s #058 Dinner.
Title: Out to Dinner.
Author: Rodlox.
fb is welcome.
Summary: Booth’s taken Brennan out to dinner, but when has anything with Brennan ever been simple?
Archive: the Bone Yard.
~~
“See?” Booth asked, leaning a little towards her; they were both seated, had been for…don’t look at your watch. “Now, isn’t this better than just grabbing a bite in the lounge?” And can you please stop that?
Brennan’d been thrumming her fingers against the table for at least five minutes, non-stop. Stopped thrumming when the waiter finally came back. “Steak for you, sir,” handing that platter to Booth, “and chicken for the lady,” giving that platter to Brennan.
“Hold on,” Brennan said, pulling the knife out of her rolled-up napkin, tapping it against the chicken.
“Is something wrong?” surprised. Usually complaints don’t come this soon.
I was afraid of this. “I ordered chicken,” Brennan said.
The waiter nodded. “That is chicken.”
“There’s no bones.”
“That is correct.”
“I don’t eat boneless vertabrates.”
“While I’m not sure what you mean, I can assure you that we never serve meals with the bones still in them.”
Brennan stared at the waiter, who looked like he was trying not to swallow nervously. “That’s how he died,” Brennan said to herself, though Booth, the waiter, and the nearest tables heard her. Brennan got up, and - ignoring the waiter’s flinching away - ran for the door.
“Guess we get doggy bags tonight,” Booth said to the waiter, who nodded with wide eyes. “I’ll be back later to pick them up,” and headed for the door, wondering if Brennan was still there, or if she’d gotten as far as the car.
There were distinct advantages to being the one with the car keys.
~~
The end.