The saving-the-day late at night with things coming alive turned out very complicated every time I tried, BUT.
"I don't know what to do." Brennan's voice was hushed on the phone.
Angela bit her lip and pressed down harder on the gas pedal with her foot. Seriously, this sucked so much.
"I'll be there, sweetie," she said into the phone. Why Booth had had to go and break his leg last week was beyond her; this was NOT supposed to be Angela's job. She took stock of what she had with her again: gun, rope, handcuffs, shovel. Okay.
--
As it turned out, she ended up needing all that she'd brought with her, but not in the way she'd thought: she hit the murderer over the head with the shovel, rigged the rope to the handcuffs using a knot Jack had taught her in a very different context, fastened the handcuffs to a telephone pole and shot off the lock to the grate that was on top of the hole that Brennan had been forced into.
Brennan, of course, managed to climb up the rope when Angela lowered it to her, because even with a sprained ankle and a concussion, Brennan was the most coordinated person Angela knew. Something to do with thinking about her actions a lot, or whatever.
Just as expected, she also tried to pretend to Angela that she wasn't upset. Angela wondered if Booth fell for that when they were on these jobs, and pulled Brennan into a hug, holding on when she tried to squirm away.
Finally she relaxed into it, and Angela stroked her hair for a bit. "Hey, sweetie, you're okay," she said, and Brennan nodded.
"That was unpleasant," she said.
"No kidding," said Angela, and then they pulled the still-unconscious asshole into the car, putting the handcuffs on him and driving back.
no subject
"I don't know what to do." Brennan's voice was hushed on the phone.
Angela bit her lip and pressed down harder on the gas pedal with her foot. Seriously, this sucked so much.
"I'll be there, sweetie," she said into the phone. Why Booth had had to go and break his leg last week was beyond her; this was NOT supposed to be Angela's job. She took stock of what she had with her again: gun, rope, handcuffs, shovel. Okay.
--
As it turned out, she ended up needing all that she'd brought with her, but not in the way she'd thought: she hit the murderer over the head with the shovel, rigged the rope to the handcuffs using a knot Jack had taught her in a very different context, fastened the handcuffs to a telephone pole and shot off the lock to the grate that was on top of the hole that Brennan had been forced into.
Brennan, of course, managed to climb up the rope when Angela lowered it to her, because even with a sprained ankle and a concussion, Brennan was the most coordinated person Angela knew. Something to do with thinking about her actions a lot, or whatever.
Just as expected, she also tried to pretend to Angela that she wasn't upset. Angela wondered if Booth fell for that when they were on these jobs, and pulled Brennan into a hug, holding on when she tried to squirm away.
Finally she relaxed into it, and Angela stroked her hair for a bit. "Hey, sweetie, you're okay," she said, and Brennan nodded.
"That was unpleasant," she said.
"No kidding," said Angela, and then they pulled the still-unconscious asshole into the car, putting the handcuffs on him and driving back.