Disclaimer: None of it is mine. Not the show. Not the characters. Not even the blue shoe.
A/N: (squees happily) Yay! I've finally written something new! It's not my best, but at least it's better than that whole lotta nothing that my muses have been giving me for the past several months. :-)
A/N 2: Cullen's Bullpen Challenge Entry for January 2008. The Challenge: The Great Escape - A member of the team, not Booth or Brennan, is trapped somewhere and has to use their skills to escape. ...If you're at all interested in joining the challenge, please feel free to e-mail or PM me. I'll send along the website details.
One Blue Shoe
Dr. Zack Addy sighed as he wearily made his way to his feet. The last month had been brutal as the team had examined one body after another. All of those bones spread out on the extra examination tables that had been brought into the lab. So many of them were small and so very frail looking in comparison to their adult companions. A shudder passed through his body, and Zack leaned his head against the wall to his left hoping the coolness would ease the ache in his head. Closing his eyes, he reminded himself that it was over. No new body bags would be delivered this day. No more tearful families would be told that their loved ones were gone forever. They had won, but not nearly soon enough. Not before the monster had taken far too many lives.
Both the FBI and the Jeffersonian had pulled out all of the stops to solve their most recent case. Extra lab attendants and forensics agents had worked non-stop shifts. The Medico-Legal Lab hadn't shut down. Even if it had, no one would have left the building. Not a single member of The Team could honestly say that they'd slept in their own beds more than one night out of three for over two weeks. And, Agent Booth had practically taken up residence in Dr. Brennan's office.
With another sigh, Zack heaved himself upright and took the step to the door, grateful to finally be going home. All he wanted was to take a very hot shower and sleep for days. But when he grasped the latch, it didn't move. He tried jiggling it, but it stayed in place. Eyes now wide open; he exchanged hands and tried with his right. He jiggled the latch some more. He banged on it with a closed fist. It wouldn't budge. It was then that he noticed the dried glue.
"No. No. No. No. No. Not again."
His breath hitched in his throat as he grasped the latch with both hands and tugged with all of the might in his slim frame. Nothing. Desperate to get out, he tried to pry his fingers into the gap between the door and the doorjamb, but the opening was too small. He couldn't get any purchase. Knowing that he was thoroughly stuck, Zack looked helplessly toward the ceiling. This always went badly. And, by now, you would have thought that he'd have learned his lesson. But, he'd just been so tired that he hadn't thought…
He hauled back and kicked the door in frustration. "It's not fair!"
It was then that he heard the smothered giggle, which was followed by a choked off snort of laughter. Inevitably, he felt the heat creep up his neck and spread over his face to his ears. He knew his choices. Up. Down. Or call for help. None of the options were appealing. Reaching up with slender fingers, he covered his face with both hands to smother a moan of true despair. He did notwant to call out for help. But, he'd be damned if he was going to try to crawl out and get stuck halfway like he did the last time. That left up. It figured. He'd never been a master of the jungle gym, so climbing wasn't really the best choice, either.
With a mumbled "damn it" he once again gave the lock a hard pull, ignoring the now not-so-hidden laughter from his colleagues.
"Oh, Zaaaaacky!" The singsong voice of Jack Hodgins echoed in the small interior of the room. "Did you get lost in there, Zacky?" Then came the sound of an exaggerated gasp. "Zacky! You're not stuck again, are you?"
Zack couldn't stop himself. "Shut up!"
Gales of laughter broke out on the other side of the door.
Enraged, Zack ripped off his lab coat. As much as wearing it gave him a certain sense of security, it didn't have the stretch that he'd need to get up and over the wall. He took the time to make sure that the tools in its pockets were secure before he slid it out under the door. He didn't want it to get left behind. Then, turning in a slow circle, he tried to devise the best plan to attempt an escape. Mentally calculating the angles which would provide the most leverage, he made his decisions.
Left foot there. Right foot there. Left hand there to steady myself. Then swing up with my right leg and use my right arm to pull myself up and over. Simple.
Yes. He had a plan.
Taking a calming breath, Zack carefully placed his right sneaker up on his improvised and slightly slippery stepping stone. He then rested his left hand against the cool metal wall before hoisting himself up to balance on that one foot, the other dangling in mid-air. Then, he carefully bent his knee up so that he could rest his left foot on top of his second stepping off point. Maneuvering his foot around, he made sure to get as much of his sneaker as he could on the small, but flat, surface. Once balanced, he paused. Closing his eyes, he imagined himself successfully swinging his right leg up as he pulled himself up and over the wall. With a deep breath, he swung into action – grabbing the top of the wall and pulling with all of his might while pushing off with his left foot and attempting to swing his right up and over the….
He screeched as his left foot slid out from underneath him and into the cold, blue water. Arms pin wheeling, he felt himself falling until finally was able to brace both arms against the walls of the stall to stop his descent. Breathing heavily, he took inventory of his precarious position and oh so carefully placed his right foot back onto solid ground and righting himself. Only then did he remove his dripping wet foot from the toilet…and discover that his once white sneaker was now a light shade of blue.
"Splish Splash I was taking a bath – " Hodgins' off-key voice broke out into breathless laughter as someone else apparently covered his mouth with his or her hand.
"Shut up, Hodgins! This isn't funny!" Zack turned toward the voices and stomped his foot…only to have the sodden shoe make a squelching splat instead of a satisfying thud.
Once again, the gathered crowd burst into a round of mixed laughter and shushing noises.
Mumbling to himself about how evil his so-called friends could be, Zack determinedly turned back to the toilet and once again hoisted himself up. Careful of his soaking shoe, he didn't stop to think as he jumped toward the wall and clung for dear life while scrabbling his right foot up and over the top. Once he had hooked his ankle on the edge, he carefully inched his way up, struggling to keep his handhold to avoid falling back in. Minutes later, Zack dropped down to the outside of the stall and turned to face the pranksters.
They applauded.
Too outraged to speak, Zack gathered what was left of his dignity, lifted his chin high and thump squished his way through the men's bathroom door and out of the lab.
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Ya know, I really don't know why I'm always so mean to Zack. I absolutely adore his character. But, gosh darn it, it's just so much fun to give him a hard time!
And, I while I realize that this isn't the best thing I've ever written, I would still really appreciate your reviews, criticisms or helpful suggestions. Hugs to all!