Bones Writing Exercises

Willgirl Posted 01/03/2008 15:30:00 (01/03/2008 09:30:00 PM)

Okay, I have this great book called 'The Write-Brain workbook' which gives you challenges and prompts. I was working on one and decided that it would be more fun if I could see everyone else's answers too. What makes it extra tricky is that it has to be Bones-related!

These are just short little drabbles and are good for getting the creative juices flowing! They can be one sentence, one paragraph, whatever you want!

Can't wait to see what everyone does. Here's the first one:

Metamorphosis

Finish the story. Start with: "Like a butterfly, she magically...."

Posted 01/03/2008 15:36:41 (01/03/2008 09:36:41 PM)


Like a butterfly, she magically flitted from person to person, leaving each of them smiling.

But then, Jack thought as he gazed at his new wife, that's why he loved her.

--Last edited by willgirl on 2008-03-01 21:37:09 --

Posted 01/03/2008 15:43:17 (01/03/2008 09:43:17 PM)


Ah, I get it! Hmmm, I will think on it...

Posted 01/03/2008 16:43:47 (01/03/2008 10:43:47 PM)


Like a butterfly, she magically emerged. He watched her beautiful eyes flutter and awaken, slowly revealing the most magnificent pools of blue flecked with gold and green. Mesmerized by this woman, Booth confirmed what he knew long ago: he would never want to leave the warmth of their cocoon again.

Posted 01/03/2008 16:54:52 (01/03/2008 10:54:52 PM)


Like a butterfly, she magically seemed to have an effect on things miles away. Brennan batted her wings, or her eyelashes, or whatever other part of her was bat-able, and Booth ended up on the receiving end of Hurricane Tessa.

Posted 01/03/2008 17:07:00 (01/03/2008 11:07:00 PM)


Like a butterfly, she magically opened her eyes. Booth gasped in relief, hugging her to his chest.

"Don't EVER do that to me again." He murmured.

"I don't plan on it." Brennan replied, wincing as she tried to sit up.

"Woah, easy Bones. You've got a bullet in your side."

"You are SO demanding." She pouted, laying back onto the grass.

"You love it." He said, charm smile intact.

Posted 02/03/2008 05:01:47 (02/03/2008 11:01:47 AM)


Like a butterfly, she magically distracted Booth from the gore... He understood that the very reality of death was somehow diminished with her at his side.

Posted 02/03/2008 06:18:49 (02/03/2008 12:18:49 AM)


These are all so good!

I forgot to ask in my post though, do you want a new one each day?

--Last edited by willgirl on 2008-03-02 12:22:08 --

Posted 02/03/2008 06:29:53 (02/03/2008 12:29:53 AM)


I like these! A new one a day would be cool.

Posted 02/03/2008 06:54:07 (02/03/2008 12:54:07 AM)


I think that that would be fun!

Posted 02/03/2008 08:59:32 (02/03/2008 02:59:32 PM)


Thanks for the prompt, Will. I used it to write this:

Like a butterfly, she magically appeared at his side, bathed in a soft, white glow that made Booth’s breath catch in his throat.

“I’ll never let go, Booth,” Brennan murmured, brushing gentle fingers across his cheek.

He sighed and reached out, intending to wrap his arms around her, but then he suddenly felt a sharp pain. “Oww!” he yelped, opening his eyes to find Brennan staring at him with a quizzical frown -- and no soft, white glow. He rubbed his forearm and tried not to whimper. “That hurt. Why’d you pinch me?” he complained, slowly sitting up on her office couch.

“I tried calling your name several times, but you were completely unresponsive.”

“So you pinched me?”

“I also considered dousing you with cold water,” she replied with a shrug.

“Gee, thanks, Bones.” Booth blinked slowly, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes.

“You’re quite welcome, Booth.”

“That was sarcasm.”

“I know.” A smirk curved Brennan’s lips, and Booth mentally braced himself for whatever she’d say next. “You were mumbling something about never letting go.” The smirk widened. “That must have been an interesting dream.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He was never watching Titanic again.

Posted 02/03/2008 09:19:33 (02/03/2008 03:19:33 PM)

Will said it was ok for me to post a prompt, so here goes. From [Only admins are allowed to see this link] we have this:

Write a short scene in which one character reduces another to uncontrollable sobs without touching him or speaking.

If you think that's too tough, weird, or whatever, let me know. There are tons of other prompts out there.

Have fun!

Posted 02/03/2008 09:53:37 (02/03/2008 03:53:37 PM)


Like a butterfly, she magically flew from place to place with Booth, helping lost remains find their way back home again, giving families their loved ones back after years and years of waiting. She knew what it was like to be all alone and waiting. Her work gave her the opportunity to find out what happened to her parents and partnership with Booth helped her pull through. They were there for each other day and night. And that was what their partnership was all about.

Posted 02/03/2008 11:10:12 (02/03/2008 05:10:12 PM)

It's short, but I'm really sleepy...

Tears trickling down her cheeks, she buried her face in the armrest of the couch, her legs tucked underneath her and her body trembling with every hiccuping breath that escaped her lips. Her flushed cheek rested coolly against the leather of the sofa and she could feel the tears gathering along the crease where her face met the upholstery as she blinked hard, willing her breathing back under control.

A hand tapped her on the shoulder as a gentle prompt and she pushed herself back up to a sitting position, brushing away the evidence of the glistening tracks down her face while giving her friend a nod of acceptance, ready to deal again with what lay before her.

Taking one final deep breath, she crossed her legs, looking up at the man standing on the beige lounge carpet in front of her and managing a tight smile, still wracked by the occasional after-shudder.

He met her gaze, frustrated dark eyes locking with ones which were equally dark but had now been reddened by tears, and the pleading expression on his face only made her vision become blurry again as she fought to remain silent.

The fight was short-lived.

As he started to limp in circles round the middle of the room, alternately between flapping his arms and making clapping sounds by his mouth, she gave up.

Letting herself collapse back on the couch, her hands covering her face as her shoulders shook once again with uncontrollable laughter, she couldn't stop her halting breaths coming out as sobs as she surrendered to hysteria. Unable to look at the man in front of her and only spurred on by the guffaws and chuckles from beside her, Angela closed her eyes, praying that it would be over soon, not least because Death by Laughing was becoming a serious possibility.

Her prayers were answered by an unlikely source when Zach piped up uncertainly, his usual measured tone also affected by tremors of amusement as he guessed, "Lame duck?"

The riotous burst of laughter from the opposing team informed them that Cam, Hodgins or Brennan had indeed been cruel enough to give the unfortunate FBI agent the task of miming "lame duck" to his team members. Wiping her eyes, Angela looked up to see Booth glowering at their opponents, arms folded across his chest and cheeks bright red with embarrassment, and felt a small stab of pity for laughing quite so hard at him.

However, he then turned his gaze on her, accusingly reminding her that he'd had to repeat the impression of a lame duck at least four times because she'd been laughing too hard to form any coherent thoughts.

Unfortunately, instead of instilling a sense of contrition, this memory only brought back images of the usually composed agent making a valiant attempt at waddling with a limp, and Angela dissolved into giggles again, burying her face in her knees this time while Booth slunk back to his seat, sending a murderous glare at the artist responsible for starting the game of Charades.

Posted 02/03/2008 12:08:58 (02/03/2008 06:08:58 PM)


Bertie! That was bloody brilliant! (channeling the brits here)

Here's my response to Lerdo's prompt (it's up to you to decide if he's alive or not) :


"It's not possible. It can't be possible. Seeley Booth wouldn't leave Temperance Brennan. He wouldn't do that to her. He can't be dead."

"Angie. . ." Jack Hodgins said, trying to comfort his girlfriend. "These things happen. It was a messy case, and the suspect-"

"DON'T tell me about how the suspect had a gun! We all KNOW the suspect had a gun! Why else would Bren be cowering in her office, lost to the world? She's lost, Jack. Lost."

"I know, Ange. I just don't know what we can do to help her."

"There's only one person who could ever really cheer her up." Just then, the doors to the lab flew open and a man ran through them. He jogged up to the platform after scanning his card. Angela and Hodgins stared at him.

"You're dead." Angela said.

"I need to see Bones, Ange." He said urgently.

"You're dead." She repeated.

"Dammit, Ange! Where is she? I'm obviously not dead."

"She's in her office." He immediately started off the platform. "Booth-" She called him back. "Be careful with her. She thinks your gone." Nodding, he continued down the steps to her office.

He walked slowly to her office, his footsteps silent. His shadow crept into the dimly lit room as he stood in the doorway.

She was curled on her couch, staring off in the distance. She looked up to see who was disturbing her wallowing.

He stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets and a sheepish look on his face that clearly said 'Do you forgive me?'. Her gaze locked with his and she couldn't help it - she burst into sobs. She cried and cried, sobbing and sniffling, barely registering when the couch dipped next to her. After she had her sobbing under control, she looked over at the man sitting next to her. He was looking back at her with a curious expression on his face.

Two identical, shy smiles broke out. Even death couldn't tear them apart.

Posted 02/03/2008 12:58:40 (02/03/2008 06:58:40 PM)


He smiled.

She lost it.

The glass between them far too thick, the air sterile and cold. He wanted to tell her so many things, but knew that she wouldn't hear. Couldn't.

Her mouth moved, words slipped past those frustrating lips. But the sound of filtered air, the beep of the heart monitor next to him... He couldn't hear her.

So he smiled. Tried to tell her with his facial expressions that it would be ok.

She wasn't buying it.

Pressed her hands against the glass, willed it away. Wished she could sit next to him, hold his hand or just... God, she didn't know what she wanted. Only that she couldn't stand here and not do anything. But wait.

It seemed they'd waited forever as it was.

She brushed at her swollen eyes, wiping the tears from her red cheeks. Sniffled, and bit her bottom lip to control it's quiver.

He looked so pathetically helpless, like she felt. When they'd called her, told her they'd found him she'd been able to contain it. Rushed to the hospital without thought. She'd stood there for what seemed like hours before he even woke up, watching and waiting for an ok to enter.

Even when they told her she couldn't go in, that she could only stand at the window and wait. Even then she'd kept her emotions in check. Her tears locked firmly behind closed eyes. The checklist of restraint carefully maintained.

But when he looked at her... when he smiled like nothing was wrong. Like she hadn't spent days looking, and worrying, and hoping to hell that he was alright. Like she hadn't forgotten to eat, or that the nights had been lost in pleasant slumber. When he smiled as if he wasn't in pain, as if he was just stopping by to say hello, the floodgates opened and she thought for a moment that maybe the water would never recede.

The confusion, the relief, the regret, and pain, and anger... it all became too much for her to handle. She hadn't wanted to do this in front of him, in front of anyone really. She'd wanted to go home and let it all out in a hot shower where no one would have to know just how upset it had made her. And now she was standing in front of him trying to collect herself as his face grew serious. That look of concern taking over his broken features.

So she closed her eyes, and took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

And then... she smiled.

Posted 02/03/2008 13:30:53 (02/03/2008 07:30:53 PM)


He was older now, nearly sixteen. He hadn’t cried yet. He was, as his dad said, very strong. His mother was hysterical as soon as she found out; they had grown closer in the past few years and now he was gone.

It seemed weird to him that his dad was dead. Last week, they were at the diner, joking and laughing and then he was gone.

Everyone was there. A ton of FBI agents, government officials, every single one of the squints. He saw Angela press her face into Hodgins’ jacket, her body shaking.

Everyone but her.

He kept looking around, thinking she was coming, but she didn’t. He found himself getting angry. She was his partner, she should have been here. And they were in love. Theirs was an unconventional relationship that at the age of fifteen he didn’t understand.

How could love someone and live apart? They never moved in together, never married, but more often than not when he woke up in the mornings, she was there, smiling and teasing his dad about something.

The funeral ended and they were on their way back Hodgins’ for the wake. He heard Angela tearfully ask where Brennan was. Hodgins’ had replied that she would come in her own time.

After arguing with his mom, she finally let him go and he went to every place he could think of. Wong Foo’s, the diner, the Jeffersonian. She wasn’t anywhere. He decided to walk through the park on his way home, the park where he and his dad had played so many times.

As he walked by the carousel, he saw a figure sitting on the park bench. It was her.

He hid behind the closest tree and watched as she rocked back and forth, tears pouring down her face. Her hands gripped the sides of the bench as she tried to catch her breath. Her despair was overwhelming, it choked him like a vice and he lowered himself to the ground, feeling the tears well up in his eyes and suffocate his throat.

And then, for the first time since his father died, Parker Christopher Booth cried.

Posted 03/03/2008 00:52:58 (03/03/2008 06:52:58 AM)


Aaaah! Will, how could you do that to me!

These are brilliant peops x

Posted 03/03/2008 01:02:51 (03/03/2008 07:02:51 AM)


OK, so I know I'm a day late on the butterfly thang, but this wrote itself nonetheless...

Like a butterfly, she magically emerged from her cocoon, transformed from her dowdy former self in to something dazzling and vibrant; a beautiful creature in every sense.

And he’d like to take the credit, but really the potential had been within her all along.

Posted 03/03/2008 03:29:30 (03/03/2008 09:29:30 AM)


This last challenge is just begging for Character Death... gah! I can't read the ones already written until I attempt to write my own.
Love all the butterfly ones!! Bertie, your "butterfly effect" take is so interesting... I love how your mind seems to work... not always taking the obvious road... I would love to develop that!

Posted 03/03/2008 03:51:01 (03/03/2008 09:51:01 AM)

Alright, I thought we needed a fun one for today since yesterday's was depressing. And if you haven't done yesterday's yet, feel free. I hope these exercises are getting people's creative juices flowing. I know mine are!

My Condiments To The Chef!
Ketchup Pickle
Mustard Relish
Soy Sauce Hot Peppers
Mayonnaise

Use all of these words in a piece that starts:

His Taste in Women was...

Posted 03/03/2008 04:58:52 (03/03/2008 10:58:52 AM)

spacekid77 wrote : Bertie, your "butterfly effect" take is so interesting... I love how your mind seems to work... not always taking the obvious road... I would love to develop that!

I'll second that Bertie, loved yours. I LOL'd x

And for todays... (I'm hungry now)!!

His taste in women was previously so obvious. Safe. Like ketchup, mayonnaise. She was hot peppers, relish, English mustard. Something fiery. Different and new.

She stole the pickle from his burger and put too much soy sauce on her fried rice, but he loved her all the same.

Posted 03/03/2008 05:58:54 (03/03/2008 11:58:54 AM)


His taste in women was always questioned by Angela. He knew that she queried his interests, trying to point out how well he and Bones went together.

Which was silly, right? I mean, she was BONES. She was... Well, OK. She was pretty hot. He looked up at her, across the burger bar in the cafe. She was smearing mayonnaise on her bun absentmindedly, focused more on him than on her lunch.

He flashed her his most charming smile and offered her the mustard. She had seemed a bit startled to be caught looking at him rather than at the tubs of ketchup and relish, but she recovered quickly. As she accepted the container from him, their fingers brushed and Booth felt a jolt through his very core.

"Thanks," she murmured, adding a dollop to the top of her burger. She flashed him a brief smile and then picked up her tray and headed for a table.

Booth hurriedly threw some pickles onto his sandwich, added some hot peppers for masculinity (or at least a conversation piece) and then splashed a bit of soy sauce on as well. It seemed an odd thing to add to a hamburger, but it was there so someone must have thought it tasted good.

Burger complete, Booth ambled over to the table where Bones was waiting, a patient smile on her lovely face.

Posted 03/03/2008 06:32:53 (03/03/2008 12:32:53 AM)

His taste in women was not as obvious as everyone seemed to think. He didn't relish the thought of a high-maintenance, blonde bombshell, it just sorta happened. He was much more comfortable with someone a little more laid-back, someone he could just sit and talk to, share a meal with, maybe an occasional movie. Someone like the woman sitting across from him… who happened to be talking.

“Sorry, Bones. I wasn’t paying attention… What did you say?”

“I said that this vegetable fried rice is just not very good. Too much soy sauce. I should have just stuck with my usual salad.”

“You’re welcome to half my burger - lettuce, tomato, ketchup, mustard, mayo, extra pickles?!?! C’mon it’s Free-gan!!” he smiled at her.

Her acceptance almost surprised him right out of his Hot Pepper boxer shorts, and when she moaned as she took her first bite of meat since he could remember, said shorts seemed to fit just a little bit tighter.

Posted 03/03/2008 07:32:36 (03/03/2008 01:32:36 PM)

Thanks space and TT! Although I do think there may be something wrong with me if the first things I think of when I hear 'butterfly' are a crappy Ashton Kutcher movie and the kids' book 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar' (which sadly I couldn't work into a story... *pouts*)

And as if you needed further proof of my rather special mental status, here's my one for today. (Tricky prompt, Will!)

The Power of Advertising

His taste in women may have been as changeable as the tides, but Seeley Booth knew what he liked when it came to his stir-fry.

Slumped on his couch in front of a game, he balanced a small chunk of beef on his chopsticks before shoveling it into his mouth and catching a stray noodle with his tongue, savoring the familiar flavor on his tastebuds.

He was a decent cook, but while others were inventive and risk-taking, he belonged firmly to the "If it ain't broke, don't fix it" school of cookery. Or more specifically the "If it tastes like a small noodly slice of heaven, don't go messing with God's work" philosophy. As far as Booth was concerned, beef, noodles, pepper, spring onions and soy sauce were practically the keys to the Pearly Gates, and he didn't envision St Peter changing the locks anytime soon.

Propping his feet on the table in front of him, he took another mouthful, wrinkling his nose in annoyance as the game cut to yet another set of commercials. He glanced briefly round for the remote, but soon decided that the hunt was more effort than it was worth.

This conclusion was quickly shown to be erroneous, however, when a deeply disturbing hamburger-puppet filled the screen, its sesame-seed eyes winking at him as it launched into song, its words matching the tune of "Hey Big Spender".

"The minute it's placed on the bun,
You can see it is a sauce of distinction,
A real fab ketchup!
With hot peppers, and mayonnaise,
The taste sensation goes on for days!"

Booth watched in horrified fascination as mustard-colored puppety legs dropped from underneath the singing burger and it began to high kick its way down a set of stairs, making come-hither eyes at a large bottle of ketchup.

"But let me just add to the fun!
It's awesome with relish or pickle too!
So buy 'Ma's Ketchup',
And see what it can do for you!"

Ending with a flourish, the camera panned round to focus on the ketchup as an announcer added, with more dignity than one would expect from someone who acted as the follow-up to a dancing hamburger, "'Ma's Ketchup': Because it's what your food wants!"

With that piece of wisdom, the commercial ended and Booth sat in stunned silence, trying to absorb the fact that he'd just watched what was essentially a mating ritual between burger and condiment.

The advertising agency had done their work well though, and against his better judgement, he couldn't stop his eyes from wandering down to his stir-fry, and his treacherous brain briefly contemplated, What if...