"Male, approximately thirty years old…the remains are too badly burned to estimate a time of death from here. I'll need—"
"The remains sent back to the Jeffersonian." FBI agent Seeley Booth cut off his partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan, from finishing a sentence she said at virtually every crime scene. "You heard the doctor." He told a tech to his left. "To the Jeffersonian!"
"And soil samples." Brennan reminded him, though the techs were already gathering them. "Dr. Hodgins will need soil samples." She stood up and pulled off her latex gloves.
"Yeah, Bones, I know. So do the techs. They know the drill by now."
"I didn't ask for a drill." She pulled her hair from the elastic holding it up and shook it out a little, not noticing the way Booth watched every movement.
"Uh…no, Bones, it's a saying." Booth told her, shaking himself a little. "They know proper procedure for a crime scene. Especially one of ours."
"Booth, we have no possession over the crime scene. We work the crime scenes, but we don't make them, because you and I do not kill people."
"Bones." Booth sighed at her literality.
"And, as I've told you before, if I had committed a murder, there would be no crime scene to investigate." She smiled at him challengingly.
"And, as I've told you before, I would definitely be able to catch you if you murdered someone."
"No."
"Yes." His hand went to the small of her back as he guided her past some of the local police.
"You would have to find a body to even know there had been a murder." She pointed out.
"I'd find the body." He said stubbornly.
"You wouldn't know you needed to look for a body unless someone you care about went missing and you noticed their absence. I doubt I would kill someone you care about." She took a second to think about it. "I don't think anyone you would miss is on my list."
"You have a list?" He asked incredulously. "Bones, that's just creepy, alright? Don't say things like that out loud."
"I can think about it but not say it out loud? So should I take that to mean you also have a list, but you don't admit it?" She raised an eyebrow at him, and he rolled his eyes.
"Well, if I answered that question, wouldn't that be saying it out loud?"
"You just admitted you have a list."
"Can we please just go back to the Jeffersonian and ID the remains? Okay, Bones? We got a dead person on our hands. Let's do what we do best. Alright?" He sounded very noble.
"You're just mad I know you have a list."
But she could always knock that down.
"We had enough flesh left for a DNA sample, but just barely. We're checking with dental records as well to confirm." Camille Saroyan, an apron over her low-cut black dress, told Booth over the phone later that day.
"So who is he?"
"Michael Westland. Thirty-three years old. Naval officer."
Booth groaned. "Navy?" He asked. "Great."
"What?" Cam asked. "I know you have some Army-Navy rivalry thing, but—"
"No, no, it's not that. Now I gotta call the Navy cops." Booth sighed. "Don't tell Bones yet."
"Why would Dr. Brennan care if the Navy people are involved?"
"Because they have jurisdiction. And they're going to take the body."
"Oh." Cam chuckled. "Taking remains from Dr. Brennan before she's ready? Good luck. Have fun breaking that news to her."
"You know, Cam, I was thinking—you're her boss, you know, so maybe you—"
"Nice try, Seeley, but I'm not taking that bullet for you." With that, she hung up, still chuckling a little.
"Grab your gear!" NCIS agent Jethro Gibbs barked as he hung up his phone. His team scrambled into action, but they all paused when he didn't provide further information. He usually told them where they were going and what they were dealing with.
"Uh, Boss?" Tony DiNozzo, the senior field agent on the team—and didn't he just love to remind them of that fact—ventured. "Where are we going?"
Gibbs paused, grabbing his coffee cup before answering. "The Jeffersonian Institute."
"The museum?" Tim McGee asked, confused. He had grabbed his gun and his badge already, but he wasn't leaving without his expensive new jacket. He didn't trust that their lab whiz, Abby Sciuto, wouldn't use it for experiments. It had happened before.
"They have a forensics lab that liaisons with the FBI."
Tony stopped. "Sacks?" He asked apprehensively. Ziva David snorted. He was her partner, but there was no end to the pleasure she got in tormenting him.
"No, not Sacks. We're looking for an agent…" Gibbs squinted at what he'd written down, holding it at arm's length so he could see it. "Booth. Let's go."
He strode off to the elevator. Tony shot a glare at Ziva. "Do not snort at me, Probie."
Ziva ground her teeth in frustration at the nickname. She was a new officer, technically, because her position with Mossad had been terminated, and Tony would never let her forget it.
When they got to the Jeffersonian's forensics lab, they saw a man and a woman arguing just inside the doors. From the way everyone around them went about business as usual, it appeared this was a regular occurrence.
"Bones, we don't have jurisdiction." The man was saying. "I'm sorry, but the Navy guys are going to get here, they're going to do their thing, and we are going to fill out a few pages of paperwork and have a free weekend."
"They can't just take my remains!" The woman argued vehemently. "I'm not done."
"They're not your remains, Ms. Possessive." His hands went to his hips. "It's a murder investigation, okay? It doesn't matter who catches the bad guys as long as someone does."
"Booth, no one will if they take the remains from me! I haven't determined cause of death. How are they going to find the murder weapon if we don't know what it was?"
"I'm sure they're very good at their jobs, Bones. I know you're a genius and all, but you're not the only person on Earth who can solve murders!"
"I am when the remains consist almost solely of bones. That is my expertise! I am the best in my field!" They were glaring at each other at this point.
"Yeah, I know. And if I ever forgot, you'd sure tell me, wouldn't you?"
Gibbs cleared his throat and they both whirled around. None of the NCIS agents missed the way the man—Booth, apparently—subtly took a step in front of the woman, putting himself ever so slightly between her and the team. Apparently, she didn't miss it, either, because she rolled her eyes.
"Booth, I hardly think I'm in any danger. If security let them in, they must be safe."
"That is not true." He shot back, not backing down. "Security in this place could really use an upgrade. I mean, all you need is a little badge to swipe and you have full access to any body on these slabs."
"We're the Navy guys." Gibbs cut in. "Here to do our thing."
If anything, Booth tensed further, though his hand stopped inching toward his gun.
"Bit touchy, aren't you?" Tony quipped. "Are you always this jumpy? Maybe you should switch to decaf."
"I am very famous." The woman said with a shrug. "Death threats are not uncommon, though Booth is a bit overzealous in his protectiveness. He has what psychologists would call white-knight syndrome, though I hate psychology. He is a strong alpha male. He needs to assert his dominance and protect those around him at all times."
The NCIS team just stared at her, but Booth, obviously used to this, scoffed a little.
"You're my partner." He said, gesturing between the two of them. "Of course I'm going to protect you." Before she could say anything else (and she was certainly going to—her mouth was opening as he turned away from her), Booth stretched a hand toward Gibbs.
"Agent Booth." He said, though they'd already caught that. "Are you Agent Gibbs?"
Gibbs nodded and shook his hand. "DiNozzo. McGee. David." He jerked his head at each of his team in turn.
"This is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan." Booth said, nodding toward the woman who still had her hands on her hips. Tony made an approving noise, leering slightly. He made the mistake of doing that while shaking hands with Booth and suddenly found his hand was being absolutely crushed by the FBI agent, a clear back-off-buddy look on his face. Tony refused to wince.
Ziva, of course, elbowed him as soon as Booth let go, and then he did wince, because she always struck true with those elbows. Jeez. No one could take a joke these days.
"You're here to take the remains?" Brennan asked accusingly.
"It's a naval officer." Gibbs said. "Naval investigation." He pointed to the NCIS emblem on Tony's hat.
"Bones." Brennan said, pointing to the forensics platform behind her. "Anthropologist." She pointed to herself. Tony chuckled. She was feisty.
"We appreciate your help in identifying the victim." Ziva said. "But we are more than capable of handling the investigation."
"I haven't found the cause of death yet." She wasn't even pleading; she was stubbornly refusing to yield.
"Could we share jurisdiction here?" Booth stepped in smoothly. "You'll be in charge, of course, but maybe Bones here could keep the, uh, well, the bones."
McGee frowned. "Why would we share jurisdiction? It's pretty clearly NCIS jurisdiction."
Gibbs said nothing, but examined the two people in front of him. Booth felt like it was some kind of test and tried not to blink. Brennan stared back at him defiantly. She wasn't afraid of some Navy investigator.
"Is your medical examiner equipped to analyze bone markings?" She asked doubtfully.
"Our medical examiner is equipped to handle anything." Gibbs said quietly.
"Certainly not as well or as fast as I could."
"Bones." Booth put a hand on her elbow and dropped his voice. "Why don't you leave the talking to me, huh? I'm working on it. It's their jurisdiction, but maybe if you ask nicely they'll let you keep playing with the bones."
"I don't play with bones, Booth. I—"
"Bones, it's a joke. Please just let me handle this, okay?"
She pursed her lips. "Fine." She muttered. "You are better at conflict-resolution and interpersonal communication."
"Thank you." He beamed at her and Tony felt like laughing out loud. One of these partnerships, huh?
"Okay, look." Booth turned back to them, private moment with his partner over. "It's your jurisdiction. I get that. But Bones here is the best in the country—"
"World." She broke in. "I am the best in the world."
Booth sighed a little, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "She's the best in the world. She would give you her full cooperation. And she'll work side by side with your ME. You could really use our help on this."
"Why both of you?" Gibbs asked.
"What?"
"I can see we need her. But we're investigators. Why do we need you?"
Booth was so taken aback he couldn't say anything. Brennan frowned. "I don't work without Booth." She said.
"So if I said you could only work on the bones without him…?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow at her. A muscle in Booth's jaw was clenching tightly, and Brennan was glaring.
"I would wish you luck finding the murderer with your medical examiner's limited expertise and whatever knowledge he could rustle up, most likely from Google."
Something passed over Booth's face, just for a second—gratitude? Relief? Happiness? It was there and gone so fast Gibbs didn't get a good look.
"Bones, you can work the case without me." Booth said softly.
"Of course I can." She answered just as quietly. "But you're my partner. I work with you."
They just stood there looking at each other, and Ziva felt like an intruder on a private moment. There was a lot in that look, and she actually looked away. She knew what it felt like to be in one of those looks. She didn't need to look at them to know everything that was being said between them.
"We'll take you. Both of you." Gibbs interrupted their moment. "But I'm in charge of this investigation. You listen to me. You follow my orders. That clear?"
"It's clear." Booth said, though he clearly wasn't very happy about it. Gibbs could tell he was used to being in charge. "Bones, is that clear with you?"
She bit her lip. "I…will do what Booth thinks is best. If that includes doing what you ask, fine. But where your orders contradict Booth's, I'm going to go with Booth."
That look passed Booth's face again, and this time, Tony saw it. Oh, yeah. Definitely one of those partnerships.
Gibbs fought a smile. "I can respect that."
"You can?" McGee asked. "Even if she doesn't do what you want?"
"Rule number one, McGee." Gibbs said, leaving Booth and Brennan bewildered.
"Never put suspects together?"
"The other rule number one." Tony supplied. "Never screw over your partner."
"I like that rule." Booth murmured to Brennan.
"Wait 'til they hear number twelve." Tony whispered to Ziva with a laugh.
Gibbs extended his hand to Booth. "Welcome aboard."