A/N: Goldy sent me an email awhile back about the Secrets of the women's bathrooms. I thought it was too funny. So the other day the idea popped in my mind to write a fiction using the email. Hope you like it!
Title: (The Secrets Of The) Women's Restrooms
Summary: Brennan has an eventful trip to the restroom.
Rating: K
Disclaimer: I don't own BONES (which sucks). I do own the plot line. © WolfMyjic 2006
"Would you hurry up," Dr. Temperance Brennan whined as her partner, Special Agent Seeley Booth stopped yet again to look at a display. Brennan tapped the toe of her uncomfortable silver high heel shoe on the floor, the sound echoing through the half emptied store.
"What's your hurry, Bones?" Booth asked taking three long strides to close the distances.
"I told you, I have to use the restroom," she said, turning to head toward the sign that pointed the way.
"Why didn't you go before we got on the road?" Brennan threw a glare over her shoulder.
"I didn't have to go before we left my apartment," she snapped. "But maybe if you hadn't been scratching to go, I would have had time to realize that I had to go!"
"Itch, Bones. I was itching to go, not scratching."
"Whatever," Brennan said with a roll of the eyes. "Thank goodness." Brennan hurried and pushed the door marked Women's open and then stopped in her tracks. Brennan swallowed an aggravated growl when she saw a line of women. A few of the last women turned and offered her a small smile as she fell into place behind them. Slowly, they all shuffled closer to the four stalls that held toilets. Brennan made it to the front of the line, and watched the feet under all the doors, waiting for someone to come out.
A door opened and Brennan dashed for it, nearly knocking down the woman coming out. Brennan slammed the door shut and let out a curse when she noticed the latch was broken. A quick look around told her that the hook on the door was gone, leaving Brennan nowhere to hang her purse. Wouldn't have a stupid purse if I wasn't dressed up, she thought. And I wouldn't be dressed up if I hadn't agreed to go to this stupid black tie ball with Booth. Damn him, it's his fault. With a heavy sigh, Brennan draped the strap of her purse over her head. She gave a small chuckled as the thought that her mom would freak if she put it on the floor. An odd thought to have. Brennan reached up toward the seat cover dispenser, I bet invented by someone's Mom, no doubt, and cursed again when she found it empty. "Oh, forget it," she cursed under her breath. Brennan pulled up the hem of her dress, pushed down her panties and assumed 'The Stance'. Her thigh muscles began to shake at the strain. Her thoughts quickly turned from her mother to the fact that she would love to sit. And I would sit, she thought. If I had taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it. So she held 'The Stance'. Brennan rolled her eyes upward and wished for a moment that she was religious she that she could pray for strength.
To get her mind off of her trembling thighs, she reached for toilet paper only to discover that the paper dispenser was also empty. Brennan's mind turned back to her mother and her voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have known there was no toilet paper."
"This is getting better and better," Brennan said out loud. Suddenly she remembered the tissue that she had used early that day. She quickly searched her purse and found the small tissue and tried to crumple it the puffiest way she could thank of, but it was still smaller than her thumbnail. As she was studying the much too tiny tissue, someone pushed open the stall door and it hit the purse around Brennan's neck, pushing into her chest and she toppled backward against the tank of the toilet. "Occupied!" Brennan snapped, as she reached for the door, dropping her precious crumpled tissue into a puddle on the floor and then she lost her footing and slide directly onto the toilet seat. "Ew," she said as her bare bottom contacted the wet seat.
Brennan bolted up off the seat already knowing that she had come into contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat, all because she had been too busy to cover the seat, not that there was any paper to begin with. By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet was so confused that it flushed, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose. Brennan gave a loud sigh. Her bottom and shoes where soaked, and her tissue was soggy. Finally, she found a gum wrapper in the zipper pocket of her purse, tried her best to wipe, and then slunk out inconspicuously to the sinks.
Brennan kept her eyes down cast as she tried to figure out how to use the faucets with automatic sensors. After a few minutes, she gave up and wiped her hands with spit and a dry paper towel. She started past the line of women still waiting. No longer could she return the polite smiles. The woman at the end of the line kindly pointed out a piece of toilet paper was trailing from Brennan's shoe. Where was that when I needed it, she thought. Brennan yanked the paper from her shoe, plucked it in the woman's hand and told her as warmly as she could, "Here, you just might need this."
Brennan pushed the restroom door open and spotted Booth, who had long since entered, used and left the men's restroom, standing close by. Slightly annoyed by the wait, he asked, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"
"Don't start with me," Brennan warned as she pulled her purse over her head and then walked passed her partner. Booth followed wondering, but not asking, Why are her shoes wet?
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restroom (rest? you've got to be kidding!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long.
It also answers their other commonly asked question about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!