Bones: Enemy Mine
Title: Enemy Mine
Chapter: 3/?
Author: Insomnfreak
Rating: Teen
Disclaimer: My name is not Kathy or Hart so Bones is not mine.
Summary: Sometimes your past comes back to haunt you in ways you least expect it.
III:
Washington, D.C., The Jeffersonian Institute- Next Day
The Medico-legal Lab of the Jeffersonian was a place of great contrasts. The remains of Bronze Age hunters were stored alongside soldiers of both World Wars, early American colonists, fatalities of accidents and murder victims. Some had names while some had to settle for an alpha-numeric designator. There would be those that were claimed by loving families, while others would remain in Limbo or find a permanent place within the museum.
The building itself was a blueprint in dissimilarity. The original portion of the building, constructed in 1894, was constructed of red brick, wrought iron and heavy oak, giving the building an outward element of gravitas. The subsequent additions, two to be exact, were more modern. The first, built in the early seventies housed the offices and officers of bureaucracy that go with any government institution, while the last boasted a state of the art, almost futuristic, lab complete with shiny examining tables, glossy computerized machines and one highly intelligent and extremely beautiful Forensic Anthropologist.
“Bones!” Booth called out as he entered the lab.
There was a time when the Medico-Legal lab had been Sistine Chapel quiet, but that had been before Agent Seeley Booth.
“What ya got for me?” Booth asked swiping his security card to the platform before bounding up the steps.
“Hey, Booth,” Angela greeted with a smile. “Nice tie.”
Bones looked up from the body she had been examining. Booth smoothed down the tie in question, grinning as he did so. Outwardly the tie appeared rather staid. A dark, steel gray with what looked like a small, white crest near the bottom. On closer inspection Bones realized it was a cartoon character resembling an FBI agent in the center of a badge. As memory served her, it was a character named Elmer…something or another.
“Cam says dental records identify him as John Thomas Baker, 46, of Lynchburg, Virginia,” Bones informed him.
“This is what I got off the skull markers,” Angela added, handing over the sketchpad she had hugged to her chest.
Booth frowned slightly as he glanced over the artist’s rendering of their latest victim. The guy looked familiar in an ordinary guy kind of way, light brown hair with streaks of gray, brown eyes, square face. “A face and a name that’s something,” Booth said with a hint of a smile.
“Got a D.N.A. hit too,” Cam piped in as she entered the platform, folder in hand.
“D.N.A.?” Bones brows furrowed quizzically. “That is rather quick, even for you, Cam.”
Camille Saroyan’s brows rose, curious if that was Dr. Brennan’s version of a compliment. No, she thought, opening the file. It’s probably an actual fact. She probably has my average times filed away somewhere in that big brain of hers.
“Well, we can thank the Pentagon this time,” Cam said, casually handing the file to Booth.
“Really, why?” Bones asked as her curious nature took hold. Removing her gloves and discarding them in the bio-hazard container, Bones moved to stand next to her partner, leaning into him to get a better look at Cam’s information.”
“John Thomas Baker, Captain, U.S. Army Rangers,” Booth’s brows furrowed, his dark eyes looking back over Angela’s drawing, then the military i.d. picture in Cam’s file “Not bad Angela.”
Angela waggled her brows, a cocky smirk giving way to a wide grin. “I know.”
“Hey, Booth he was a Ranger like you,” Bones jabbed a finger at the file, causing Booth to pull it away.
“I know, Bones. I can read.”
“Did you know him?” Bones asked, ignoring her partner’s display of annoyance.
Angela chuckled, always enjoying what she lovingly called the Booth and Brennan Show. Even when Booth became exasperated with Brennan, he never became angry with her. The man was patient, almost to a fault, but only where his partner was concerned. Otherwise he was Mr. Alpha-Male, ready to charge in at a moment’s notice and always in charge.
“Sweetie, there’s probably like a thousand Army Rangers, right?” Angela looked to Hodgins and Cam for verification. Both just shrugged as they made faces that said they didn’t have a clue. “Booth couldn’t possibly know them all.”
“I think I know this guy.”
“What?” Angela looked at the FBI agent in disbelief, her mouth slightly ajar, while Bones took on an overtly smug look.
“I’m good,” Bones said, nudging her partner who turned his concentrated frown on her before returning his gaze to the file.
Angela twisted her lips, one hand going to her hip as she took on a challenging stance. “No way,” she told Booth. “You just said that for Brennan.”
Booth didn’t bother to look up from what he was reading.
“Now, why would he do that, Angela,” Bones countered, finding her friend’s argument completely irrational as her gaze bounced between Booth and Angela.
Angela’s eyes widened, her brows rose knowingly as her other hand came to rest on her hip. “Well, he can’t pull your pigtails now, can he?”
Hodgins coughed, turning to the monitor behind him to hide the grin that had erupted on to his face, causing Booth’s dark gaze to come up in warning for both the artist and the entomologist. As always, Cam just shook her head, her arms coming across her midsection as she waited for her “lab children” to settle down.
Cam was an intelligent woman and she had learned two things early on after coming to the Jeffersonian. There were the obvious things, better facility, better equipment and better resources; Brennan and her “Squint Squad” being one of those resources. But within these work upgrades, as Cam liked to call them, there were those little job descriptions that were left out when she was hired.
Like the fact that she would become the designated “lab mother” of a group of geniuses with borderline neurosi concerning educated guessing. Cam quickly surmised she would need to be smart about which battles she chose to fight otherwise she’d be banging her head against a brick wall all day and have nothing but a splitting headache to show for her efforts.
“I’m not wearing pigtails,” Bones clarified, a confused frown on her face as she looked to Booth for an answer. I’m obviously missing something, here.
Booth just gave a little shake of his head at Bones’ curious look before deciding a change in subject was his best recourse. “It says here, that Baker was assigned to the 313th Military Intelligence Battalion out of Bragg.”
“You were stationed out of Bragg,” Cam piped in.
Booth nodded while Bones contemplated how Cam had known that bit of information about her partner.
“Baker enlisted out of college, was assigned to the three-thirteen’s Bravo Company for the first year and then there is a fifteen year gap with nothing but promotions and commendations before he was assigned to Fort Benning as an instructor.” Booth closed the file, a knowing look narrowing his eyes and causing the hint of a grin to play at one corner of his lips. “His last three years were at Bragg.”
“You know something,” Cam said and Bones had to agree, she had seen that look on Booth’s face countless times.
Booth’s smile grew. “I know something,” he said, pointing the file at Cam before turning to leave the platform, hastily ushering Bones along with him. “Come on, Bones, got a case to solve.”
“But, I…” Bones looked back to the skeletal remains of their victim. “Tell Mr. Nigel-Murray to reexamine the entry wound and to look for any grooves or cantilever markings THAT WE CAN USE TOIDENTIFYTHEWEAPON!”
Bones had been forced to shout the last of her instructions as Booth ushered her quickly through the mechanical glass doors of the lab. Cam, Angela and Hodgins exchanged amused glances before returning back to their individual tasks. It was definitely just another day at the Booth and Brennan Show.
Chapter: 3/?
Author: Insomnfreak
Rating: Teen
Disclaimer: My name is not Kathy or Hart so Bones is not mine.
Summary: Sometimes your past comes back to haunt you in ways you least expect it.
III:
Washington, D.C., The Jeffersonian Institute- Next Day
The Medico-legal Lab of the Jeffersonian was a place of great contrasts. The remains of Bronze Age hunters were stored alongside soldiers of both World Wars, early American colonists, fatalities of accidents and murder victims. Some had names while some had to settle for an alpha-numeric designator. There would be those that were claimed by loving families, while others would remain in Limbo or find a permanent place within the museum.
The building itself was a blueprint in dissimilarity. The original portion of the building, constructed in 1894, was constructed of red brick, wrought iron and heavy oak, giving the building an outward element of gravitas. The subsequent additions, two to be exact, were more modern. The first, built in the early seventies housed the offices and officers of bureaucracy that go with any government institution, while the last boasted a state of the art, almost futuristic, lab complete with shiny examining tables, glossy computerized machines and one highly intelligent and extremely beautiful Forensic Anthropologist.
“Bones!” Booth called out as he entered the lab.
There was a time when the Medico-Legal lab had been Sistine Chapel quiet, but that had been before Agent Seeley Booth.
“What ya got for me?” Booth asked swiping his security card to the platform before bounding up the steps.
“Hey, Booth,” Angela greeted with a smile. “Nice tie.”
Bones looked up from the body she had been examining. Booth smoothed down the tie in question, grinning as he did so. Outwardly the tie appeared rather staid. A dark, steel gray with what looked like a small, white crest near the bottom. On closer inspection Bones realized it was a cartoon character resembling an FBI agent in the center of a badge. As memory served her, it was a character named Elmer…something or another.
“Cam says dental records identify him as John Thomas Baker, 46, of Lynchburg, Virginia,” Bones informed him.
“This is what I got off the skull markers,” Angela added, handing over the sketchpad she had hugged to her chest.
Booth frowned slightly as he glanced over the artist’s rendering of their latest victim. The guy looked familiar in an ordinary guy kind of way, light brown hair with streaks of gray, brown eyes, square face. “A face and a name that’s something,” Booth said with a hint of a smile.
“Got a D.N.A. hit too,” Cam piped in as she entered the platform, folder in hand.
“D.N.A.?” Bones brows furrowed quizzically. “That is rather quick, even for you, Cam.”
Camille Saroyan’s brows rose, curious if that was Dr. Brennan’s version of a compliment. No, she thought, opening the file. It’s probably an actual fact. She probably has my average times filed away somewhere in that big brain of hers.
“Well, we can thank the Pentagon this time,” Cam said, casually handing the file to Booth.
“Really, why?” Bones asked as her curious nature took hold. Removing her gloves and discarding them in the bio-hazard container, Bones moved to stand next to her partner, leaning into him to get a better look at Cam’s information.”
“John Thomas Baker, Captain, U.S. Army Rangers,” Booth’s brows furrowed, his dark eyes looking back over Angela’s drawing, then the military i.d. picture in Cam’s file “Not bad Angela.”
Angela waggled her brows, a cocky smirk giving way to a wide grin. “I know.”
“Hey, Booth he was a Ranger like you,” Bones jabbed a finger at the file, causing Booth to pull it away.
“I know, Bones. I can read.”
“Did you know him?” Bones asked, ignoring her partner’s display of annoyance.
Angela chuckled, always enjoying what she lovingly called the Booth and Brennan Show. Even when Booth became exasperated with Brennan, he never became angry with her. The man was patient, almost to a fault, but only where his partner was concerned. Otherwise he was Mr. Alpha-Male, ready to charge in at a moment’s notice and always in charge.
“Sweetie, there’s probably like a thousand Army Rangers, right?” Angela looked to Hodgins and Cam for verification. Both just shrugged as they made faces that said they didn’t have a clue. “Booth couldn’t possibly know them all.”
“I think I know this guy.”
“What?” Angela looked at the FBI agent in disbelief, her mouth slightly ajar, while Bones took on an overtly smug look.
“I’m good,” Bones said, nudging her partner who turned his concentrated frown on her before returning his gaze to the file.
Angela twisted her lips, one hand going to her hip as she took on a challenging stance. “No way,” she told Booth. “You just said that for Brennan.”
Booth didn’t bother to look up from what he was reading.
“Now, why would he do that, Angela,” Bones countered, finding her friend’s argument completely irrational as her gaze bounced between Booth and Angela.
Angela’s eyes widened, her brows rose knowingly as her other hand came to rest on her hip. “Well, he can’t pull your pigtails now, can he?”
Hodgins coughed, turning to the monitor behind him to hide the grin that had erupted on to his face, causing Booth’s dark gaze to come up in warning for both the artist and the entomologist. As always, Cam just shook her head, her arms coming across her midsection as she waited for her “lab children” to settle down.
Cam was an intelligent woman and she had learned two things early on after coming to the Jeffersonian. There were the obvious things, better facility, better equipment and better resources; Brennan and her “Squint Squad” being one of those resources. But within these work upgrades, as Cam liked to call them, there were those little job descriptions that were left out when she was hired.
Like the fact that she would become the designated “lab mother” of a group of geniuses with borderline neurosi concerning educated guessing. Cam quickly surmised she would need to be smart about which battles she chose to fight otherwise she’d be banging her head against a brick wall all day and have nothing but a splitting headache to show for her efforts.
“I’m not wearing pigtails,” Bones clarified, a confused frown on her face as she looked to Booth for an answer. I’m obviously missing something, here.
Booth just gave a little shake of his head at Bones’ curious look before deciding a change in subject was his best recourse. “It says here, that Baker was assigned to the 313th Military Intelligence Battalion out of Bragg.”
“You were stationed out of Bragg,” Cam piped in.
Booth nodded while Bones contemplated how Cam had known that bit of information about her partner.
“Baker enlisted out of college, was assigned to the three-thirteen’s Bravo Company for the first year and then there is a fifteen year gap with nothing but promotions and commendations before he was assigned to Fort Benning as an instructor.” Booth closed the file, a knowing look narrowing his eyes and causing the hint of a grin to play at one corner of his lips. “His last three years were at Bragg.”
“You know something,” Cam said and Bones had to agree, she had seen that look on Booth’s face countless times.
Booth’s smile grew. “I know something,” he said, pointing the file at Cam before turning to leave the platform, hastily ushering Bones along with him. “Come on, Bones, got a case to solve.”
“But, I…” Bones looked back to the skeletal remains of their victim. “Tell Mr. Nigel-Murray to reexamine the entry wound and to look for any grooves or cantilever markings THAT WE CAN USE TOIDENTIFYTHEWEAPON!”
Bones had been forced to shout the last of her instructions as Booth ushered her quickly through the mechanical glass doors of the lab. Cam, Angela and Hodgins exchanged amused glances before returning back to their individual tasks. It was definitely just another day at the Booth and Brennan Show.