Disclaimer : I don't own Twilight. This story is slightly based on the TV drama series 'Bones', unfortunately, I don't own that either.


Chapter 1

This was absolutely useless. I had been staring at one file for the last 25 minutes and still had not found what I was looking for. Forensic anthropology was my passion. I wasn't a murder investigator, but here I was, looking at yet another dead body, trying to piece out what might have happened looking at several photos of the thoroughly decayed body.

The only good thing about the photos was that they didn't stink like the decomposing body would have. This file, No. 29884kjf4 was one of the files that formed the monumental 'dead bodies found' stack being housed by the FBI.

I was Dr. Isabella Swan, world-famous forensic anthropologist, working in the Jeffersonian, partner to Jacob Black, FBI's most decorated special Agent and author of the bestseller 'Bones'.

Throwing the file onto my coffee table, I yawned and stretched and heard a 'ping' that could only come from my Blackberry.

'1 new message'

Scrolling through my inbox I opened the message. It was from Alice.

'HEY GIRLEE! Breakfast tomorrow at *-our usual place. Be there or be square!'

Typical Alice. She was a bundle of energy and could be great fun at times and a great pain at others. At 2:30 in the morning, she was border lining on pain.

But, I still had to smile at her endless enthusiasm. Shaking my head, I turned off the solitary light and made my way to my bed, letting my dreams wash over me.

*

'Good morning Seattle. This is Tom Burks from Radio Wave City wishing all our listeners a very happy Saturday morning. It is 7:30 am and the-'

'THUD' I fell off of my bed.

7:30 AM! Holy mother of Christ, Alice was going to kill me if I came late! Gingerly rubbing my shin, I hurried to my bathroom to brush my teeth and take a quick shower. As the scalding hot water burned me, my thoughts turned to one of my best friends.

*

Mary Alice Brandon, preferred to be called Alice and would sock anyone in the nose if they didn't listen to her. Pixie-like, with spiky black hair and standing at exactly at 4'11, nobody would really think of her as a threat. Countless boys and men knew otherwise, having to first hand receive the wrath of the might pixie.

Alice was feisty, there was no other word for her. She also had an irresistible lower lip pout. It was like magic. All she had to do was bite her lower lip and look lost (which wasn't difficult since she always seemed lost amongst people who were considerably taller than her) and any person would cave in.

Alice loved shopping and playing 'Bella-Barbie'. She was an only child and her parents came from old money, so she got her first black credit card at the tender age of 14. After that, there was no stopping her. She loved to shop and design, and so made fashion her career.

Alice was the inventor and owner of the world famous 'PixAl' clothes line that produced everything from hair bands to shoelace. Her brand had been ranked as number 1 fashion line at the London and Paris Fashion Week for 5 consecutive years.

But despite all the fame, money and power, Alice was still…Alice. Not even the death of Christopher Bailey (her very good friend) would change that. Her greatest fear was probably that I would douse all her clothes and shoes with alcohol or kerosene and set them on fire (it was an idea that I had contemplated many times).

Alice had a keen sixth-sense. It was as if she could predict the future and she called herself a psychic. In the beginning, I just scoffed at her. Psychic? Pur-lease! But, after a series of events that shocked my mind, I had to concede with the fact that Alice was…gifted…in some sense of the word. I soon learned that it was sheer stupidity to try and bet against her.

So, Alice had everything that she wanted in life-money, clothes, power and her soul mate, Jasper Whitlock.

In our senior year, when we both got acceptance letter from Stanford, Yale, Dartmouth and Harvard, Alice's trusty sixth sense told her that I would be better off in Stanford and she would do good in Dartmouth. It was weird living without Alice but it paid off as the Jeffersonian chose Stanford that year to do campus interviews. If I had followed Alice to Dartmouth, I probably wouldn't have achieved the position that I was in today.

But Alice not only got recognition in Dartmouth for her fashion line , she got Jasper as well.

Alice had met Jasper Whitlock during her first semester at Dartmouth. It was love at first sight. Sweet-calm-tall Jasper was a complete opposite to energetic-crazy0short Alice. But, as they say, opposites attract. It was a big surprise when Alice called me up, an hour after entering the Dartmouth campus to squeal about Jasper's cool blue eyes and southern accent.

Jasper was perhaps the most laidback person I had ever met. With a shy and quiet demeanor, he was completely into history, especially the Civil War. But what attracted most people towards him was a pleasant, soothing effect that always surrounded him. He could read anybody like an open book and this quality made him, one of F.B.I.'s most coveted psychologists.

*

Rushing into my black SUV, I made it to Starbucks at 8:15. Expecting to find a completely pissed off pixie, I was surprised to see her jumping up and down like one of those miniatures bobbles that acted like good paperweights.

"BELLA! YOO-HOO! OVER HERE!' she shouted unnecessarily causing all of the people in the shop to wince rather obviously. I was surprised that she hadn't been kicked out yet.

"ALICE- keep it down otherwise-" I stopped mid sentence, finally seeing what Alice had consumed. Coffee and treacle. Uh-oh.

"Alice, how much have you eaten?" I demanded with my hands on my hips.

"5 cups of coffee and 4 packets of treacle!" she said, as she proceeded to open another packet of treacle and gulp down rather a large sip pf coffee at the same time.

"Put the fudge down and repeat- 'Coffee and treacle is bad for me'."

But she didn't listen to a word I said. So I grabbed her handbag and the cup off coffee and held it threateningly above her range of height.

"Put it down Alice, or I'll spill piping hot coffee all over your new purse!" I threatened.

Alice glared at me and puffed "Fine!" She plopped into her seat and appeared to be angry with me. I just rolled my eyes. I had encountered her mood swings too many times in the past and knew that it would blow over after a few minutes. Alice couldn't resist being mad with anyone, especially her friends.

"Alice-"

"I know, I know, coffee and treacle is not good for me" she grumbled. I laughed and smiled.

"Any particular reason as to why you called me here?"

She shrugged. "Ask Rosie. She called me and I texted you."

I lifted my eyebrow. "At 2 in the morning?"

"It was that or me pounding at your door at 6:30 in the morning."

"So…Rosalie?" I asked again.

"Yeah- Rosalie."

*

Rosalie. Probably the most beautiful woman on the planet. She could such a frigid bitch sometimes but we knew that she loved us dearly. Alice and I first met at a car show that Jasper had dragged us along to. There had been a huge crowd around one particular exhibition so we went to see what all the fuss was about.

There, next to a car with its hood popped open was a stunning blonde in overalls with car grease smudged all over heffr face. No wonder all the men were crowded around her. She had been fixing the car when some pervert shouted-"Hey babe! Instead of fixing that old thing, why don't you fix and I fix my problem?" he said and the rest of the guys laughed out loud.

If there's something I can't stead, it's a pervert who has no respect for women.

I raised my voice. "If you got such a big problem, why don't you go to one of those bimbos?" gesturing to the women who unraveled the cars "They'd be glad enough to help you!"

The entire crowd snickered and the perv walked away, but not before Alice 'accidentally' spilled her ice-cream over the guy's shirt.

The blonde looked at us with a dumb found expression. As we got close to her, I read her nametag. It said 'Rosalie'.

"Thanks" she said, when she managed to regain her ability to speak.

"There's no need to thank us" Alice exclaimed. "I know we're all gonna be the best of friends."

At that moment, I realized that Jasper was no where to be found.

"Jazz?" I called out.

"Jazz?" Rosalie echoed in befuddlement.

"Jasper" Alice cleared. "He's my boyfriend."

Then, Jasper appeared with a very smug smile, flexing his fingers. Alice looked at him with a 'Where the hell were you?" expression.

"Not to worry darlin'. I had to take care of a rather unfinished business." He said with that adorable Texan twang and a twinkle in his eyes.

As we moved through the exhibition with Rosalie, she told us how she had graduated from the University of Washington with a degree in Automobile Engineering, but no man took her seriously because she looked like a model. Well, that was the biggest underestimation of the year. She didn't look like any old model; she looked like a Victoria's Secret model.

As we came to the end of the exhibition, we caught sight of the perv who had changed drastically since we had seen him before. Now, it looked like he had been put into a food processor. As soon as he caught sight of Jasper, he paled and scampered away.

All of us girls realized what Jasper had done for Rosalie, who couldn't thank us enough. We had been best friends since that incident. Rosalie had also been my roommate until she had bought her own flat, quite close to Jasper and Alice's and mine.

*

Just then, Rosalie came sauntering into the café, drawing all the eyes of the men.

"Bitches" she greeted us.

"Hey, Rosalie," we chimed together.

"So," said Alice, she was not one to be patient. "Why have you called us here?

"What? I can't meet my best friends in the whole wide world for coffee?" she said with an innocent expression.

"Drop the act, Rosie! It ain't fooling us" She glared at me.

"Remember my brother Edward?" she asked, slowly stirring the dacaf latte that Alice had ordered for her.

Edward was Rosalie's elusive twin brother that we had never met before. Apparently, he was some hot shot neurosurgeon in New York, who was so busy that he had no time to visit his sister. I was surprised that Rosalie was talking about him. Although Rosalie had a tough demeanor, once she got attached to someone, she became fiercely protective towards them. Edward's no show act in Rosalie's life had taken quite a toll on her, more than she cared to admit. Her self confidence had taken quite a dip when Edward kept on canceling his visits to her. She came to think that he was embarrassed of her. It had hit her badly, Rosalie used to think the sun shone out of Edward. But Edward had sorely disappointed her, and now, Edward and their childhood was not a topic that Rosalie entertained.

Rosalie and Edward had been adopted at the age of 8 by Esme and Carlisle Cullen, who lived in the small town of Forks, coincidently, the same town, where my father was Chief of Police.

"He's coming to Seattle with his friend, Emmett and Tanya" she spit out the last word.

"Tanya?" I asked.

"Girlfriend-major bitch" said Rosalie. "She controls every aspect of his life and is the main reason that Edward hasn't come home for the last few years. Edward met Tanya in New York after he went there to see the NYU campus. She's a model that persuaded Edward to attend NYU even though he had gotten a full scholarship to U of W. But, like a little puppy, Edward listened to her and follows her everywhere. It's pathetic." she said with disgust.

At that moment, a middle-aged couple came up to our table and addressed Alice and me. The woman said "Are you Dr. Isabella Swan, author of 'Bones' and Mary Alice Brandon of the PixAl clothes line?" she asked with gleaming eyes..

Alice bounced in her seat. "Yes! How can we help you?"

"Can I have your autographs?"

Smiling slightly, I took the notebook out of the woman's hand and passed it to Alice who did the same.

By this time, the man was staring at Rosalie who was quietly sipping her coffee, oblivious to the man's stares.

"You're Rosalie Hale Cullen! The owner of the garage chain 'West End'" he exclaimed in wonder.

Rosalie just nodded in confirmation. He snatched the book that Alice and I had signed in and pushed o towards Rosalie.

"Can I have your autograph?"

She didn't bother replying but took the book and signed her name with a flourish. The man looked at the signature like a hungry bulldog who had just been given a juicy bone.

The woman was silently fuming at Rosalie for putting her husband in such a awestricken state and dragged him out of the little coffee shop.

Alice and I looked towards Rosalie, wanting her to continue the 'story'.

"Why are they coming to Alice?" I asked.

"Apparently Tanya's modeling agency wants her to do a shoot in Seattle so Edward has to come here to 'support' Tanya" she made little finger quotes "and he is finally going to visit the family."

"And his friend - Emmett?"

"He's thinking of starting a chain of clubs on the west coast and thinks that starting the first one in Los Angeles or Las Vegas is too much of a cliché."

"Where are they staying?" asked Alice innocently. I knew that she was itching to start interior decorating and saw this as a very good opportunity to try it out.

"Well, Tanya's modeling contract is for about 3 months, but Edward said that there is a possibility that they would move here permanently….So, he's looking for an apartment for them to stay in."

I looked a t Rosalie curiously. She lived in a very spacious penthouse that could easily house at least 10 people. It was weird that Rosalie wasn't offering her own place for Tanya and Edward to stay in.

"Um, you didn't offer your place for them to stay in?" asked Alice. Obviously, she also thought that this arrangement was odd.

"After all that Edward has done, or not done, I hardly think of him as my brother. Moreover, I don't need scum like Tanya in my life. I'll meet her for the sake of meeting her and then she won't exist to me" Rosalie said in a very final sort of tone. I could see that she had closed the topic for further discussion.

We chatted a bit more about Rosalie's garage, Alice's clothes line and my cases and then set off in our separate ways.