![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Squeenie's Drabble Challenge #12
Zach Addy and wellies
::as requested by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pim2005::
They got the call about the body in the lake first thing that Tuesday morning, and Dr Brennan had called her team, telling Cam quite firmly that they were *her* people and she would notify them. Zach slid out of Hodgins’ car, and looked around, a little sleepily. Cam and Brennan were already down at the lakeside, their Jeffersonian overalls on, waders on up to their waists. Booth stood to one side, a heavy black overcoat protecting him from the worst of the rain, dress shoes already muddy. Swinging shut the car door, Zach watched with no little amusement as Jack struggled into his own waders, almost falling on his ass into the mud before sorting himself out. Suppressing a grin, he followed the older man towards the rest of the team, congratulating himself on having put his own waders on before leaving the house.
He was still congratulating himself as Booth’s gaze slid over him, only to halt, disbelievingly, at his feet.
“What the hell?” The others were already looking confused or, in Jack’s case, laughing his tiny fuzzy head off. Zach glared at his colleague with a look that had never, ever, in his entire life, succeeded in intimidating anyone, and then looked down.
Putting waders on before leaving the house would definitely have been a plan. Zach had been right in theory, at any rate. It didn’t work so well when you were half asleep, and put on your joke-Christmas-present-from-Aunt-Maudie: bright green wellington boots with giant frog eyes sticking up from the front.
Zach sighed.
This was going to take some living down.
::as requested by
pim2005::They got the call about the body in the lake first thing that Tuesday morning, and Dr Brennan had called her team, telling Cam quite firmly that they were *her* people and she would notify them. Zach slid out of Hodgins’ car, and looked around, a little sleepily. Cam and Brennan were already down at the lakeside, their Jeffersonian overalls on, waders on up to their waists. Booth stood to one side, a heavy black overcoat protecting him from the worst of the rain, dress shoes already muddy. Swinging shut the car door, Zach watched with no little amusement as Jack struggled into his own waders, almost falling on his ass into the mud before sorting himself out. Suppressing a grin, he followed the older man towards the rest of the team, congratulating himself on having put his own waders on before leaving the house.
He was still congratulating himself as Booth’s gaze slid over him, only to halt, disbelievingly, at his feet.
“What the hell?” The others were already looking confused or, in Jack’s case, laughing his tiny fuzzy head off. Zach glared at his colleague with a look that had never, ever, in his entire life, succeeded in intimidating anyone, and then looked down.
Putting waders on before leaving the house would definitely have been a plan. Zach had been right in theory, at any rate. It didn’t work so well when you were half asleep, and put on your joke-Christmas-present-from-Aunt-Maudie: bright green wellington boots with giant frog eyes sticking up from the front.
Zach sighed.
This was going to take some living down.