8. "I'll always take care if her"

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Temperance pov

I'm dressed in pyjamas, only a large t-shirt and loose fitting sweatpants, and is just about to jump into bed when my doorbell rings. So i walk through my dark apartment, flipping the light switch to see where i'm going.

But the first thing i see as i look through the peephole is a cop. And as i open it, i'm met by a drunk Y/n standing behind him. And the colourful streaks in her hair almost makes me laugh. I can see that sister night went great, i wonder how Penelope's hair looks. All from pink to mint green and baby blue.

"I'm sorry to disturb you this late, are you Temperance Brennan?" He asks uncertain as Y/n looks sheepishly at me. Oh she's very drunk.

"Yes, is she okay?" I ask, gesturing to the woman behind him.

"Other than being very drunk, she's fine. Apparently she had a bad date." Oh, yes. The saturday i had feared have come today. "She refused to get a cab and the only thing she gave me was this address."

"Yes, she's my... my best friend. I can take care of her from here, thanks for bringing her home safely, Officer." I say with a smile and he nods, letting her stumble past him. Barefoot. But i don't even have to ask as he hands me a pair of high heels.

Y/n stumbles past me as i close the door behind her. "What happened tonight?"

I watch her slump down onto the couch, the dress almost sliding up her entire ass, as she drops her bag on the floor. My heart aches as I see the defeated look on her face.

"Pleassse," she begins, her words a tangled mess of slurs, "from the moment... I sat down, he wouldn't shtop talkin'... 'bout himself."

I move closer, gently resting my hand on her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her skin. I nod, urging her to continue.

"He made it... clear... he thinks being a lawyer makes him better... than everyone else," she continues, her voice heavy with frustration, "includin' me. He even said... must be tough for a woman... to keep up with the guys... in the FBI. Can you... believe it?"

A surge of protectiveness washes over me. How dare he make her feel like this? How could anyone not see how incredible she is?

"He was so... focused on showin' off... and talkin' 'bout power... and, uh, prestige. When I tried to... talk about findin' genuine connections... he dismissed it. Sayin' it's all 'bout the thrill... and havin' a good time."

I listen, my heart breaking a little more with each word. I want to tell her she deserves so much better, that she deserves someone who will cherish her, someone who can see her worth. But I stay silent, letting her pour out her heart.

"The whole time... kept hinting at... takin' things further... makin' assumptions 'bout what I wanted. By the end... I realised I had gotten... so drunk jus' to cope with... his presence."

She takes a deep, shaky breath, her eyelids fluttering with exhaustion. "He seemed shocked when I... turned him down. Like he couldn't... believe someone would say no to him. I walked out... feelin' so relieved... even if I was... drunk outta my mind."

I carefully start to take off her wristbands from her hand and set it aside, my touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. "I just need... someone who respects me... and understands... what I'm lookin' for... in a relationship, you know?"

I brush a strand of hair from her forehead, my heart swelling with unspoken emotions. "I know, I know. You deserve so much better."

Her eyes flutter closed, her breathing becoming slow and steady as sleep claims her. I gently shift her into a more comfortable position, draping a blanket over her. I watch her sleep, a tender smile playing on my lips.

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