Agent Seeley Booth (shootsclowns) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-06-02 20:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | abigail whistler, seeley booth |
Who: Seeley Booth and Abigail Whistler
What: Trying to figure things out
Where: Park
When: Evening
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
Special Agent Seeley Booth had been been canvassing a crime scene when he'd stumbled across a small object sticking out of the dirt a few feet away from the body. When he'd knelt down to pick it up, the strange thing began to glow and had erupted in a flash that had left him blind for who knew how long. When he'd come to, he'd been sitting in an internet cafe, a small post-it note attached to the keyboard with Use Me written on it.
He'd been convinced he was the butt of some elaborate joke created by Bones' crew at the Jeffersonian, right down to the out of date newspaper. And then he'd taken the advice of the post it note. Now he was convinced that if it was some kind of joke, it was coming from a higher being and tried to remember how he had displeased any diety as of late. It wasn't coming to him. Time travel and doppleangers and theives who could snatch entire landmarks without someone noticing.
To be perfectly honest, he'd always thought the Hollywood sign had been tacky.
Booth sunk down on a park bench and slumped over, wondering what the hell he was going to do now. He'd already tried calling everyone on his contact list on his cell, receiving weird static instead of an answer. E-mail got him nowhere, a call to the FBI office located in Los Angeles was of no help, and he was officially left with his gun, his badge, and about fifty dollars in his wallet. He was hesitant to see if his bank account still existed. He tugged his coat to cover the gun in the shoulder holster, feeling the reassuring press of the weapon through the t-shirt he wore.
"This is some cruel joke," he muttered, "and I'm going to wake up any minute."