Who: Booth and [Open] What: Getting home late Where: A block away from the library When: Just after nightfall Rating: TBD
Booth was not an idiot. Even without the creatures lurking the night, he knew not to go walking alone out at night in the city. There were plenty of shadows looking for money, now blood or a human snack, and the less reason given to tempt them, the better.
Unfortunately, part of getting back to the hotel relied on his management of time and he had failed in that aspect. One of the books he had purchased to study what he was thrown into had been littered with Latin, and while Booth's Catholic upbringing had taught him a few words here and there, not to mention those he picked up on his own, he was certainly at a loss.
So it was the library's foreign language section. He'd avoided the librarian and found a table in the back, books and a notepad piled up in front of him. Then the next thing he knew, checking his watch, it was evening, far after when he'd planned to get back. Booth swore, disturbing two nearby patrons who proceeded to 'shush' him, but he paid them no mind as he shoved the books into the backpack.
Even the gun in its shoulder holster under his jacket and the stake (even if it did save his life, he felt like an idiot just carrying it) in reach failed to bring any kind of comfort now that he knew what was out there. Booth's stride lengthened as he headed back towards the hotel.
Crossing by an alley, he heard a sound deep within, like someone had kicked a bottle across the ground. Booth unbuttoned his coat, giving him easier access to the gun and started walking again, backwards as if waiting for something to exit.
When nothing came, Booth turned again...and just about slammed into someone.