This is a parody I wrote for the challenge over on Live Journal. Hopefully you'll find it a bit humorous...I'm definitely out of my element here, but I hope you enjoy it anyway...

Okay, seriously…I really didn't think I could write a parody, but the beginning just came to me, and I just kept writing. And then I wasn't sure if it was any good, but puppet gave me a thumbs up, and I got an expert opinion from one of the best parody writers anywhere, so…here goes.

Thanks to kasper and puppet for their inspiration….love you both to pieces!

Special Agent Seeley Booth walked into the lab, a folder tucked under his arm. "Bones, we have a case."

Dr. Temperance Brennan looked up from the bones she was examining and sighed. "Booth, can't you think of some other way to announce that? You always say the same thing."

Booth shook his head. "How many ways are there to say 'we have a case'?"

"Fine. Just give me the file." She grabbed it out of his hand. "So, what have we got?"

"A pile of bones, of course. What else?" He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her to her office. "You know the drill. Grab your jacket."

Bones turned to Booth, a puzzled expression on her face. "What do power tools have to do with the case?"

He shook his head. "It's an expression, Bones. Let's just go."

After grabbing her jacket, they made their way to the FBI standard issue black SUV. Once in the car, Bones buckled her seatbelt, then turned to Booth. "You know, you really should buckle up. It's the law, and besides, you're not setting a good example for the young, impressionable minds of the people who watch this show."

Booth started the SUV. "Well, Bones, I look much cooler this way. And besides, then no one would be able to read my standard black logo t-shirt."

He pulled out into traffic. Silence hung in the air for a few minutes, before she turned to him. "We need to talk."

He glanced at her, pretending to keep his eyes on the road. "About what, Bones?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, but when we're in the car, we have to have a conversation."

"Who says?"

"The writers, that's who. Apparently they think we have our most meaningful conversations in the car."

Booth sighed. "Fine, what should we talk about?"

She thought for a moment. "Your religious beliefs? My lack of social skills? How much we want to have sex with each other?"

He turned to look at her, not even attempting to watch where he was going. Amazingly, the car never wavered. "We never talk about that, it's just implied!"

"Oops, sorry." She giggled. "I forgot about that for a minute while looking at your sexy chest in that tight t-shirt."

He flashed her a charm smile. (sorry, bertie, I hope that doesn't break the patent pending laws). "Sorry about that, Bones," he said, looking anything but sorry.

They reached the crime scene and Booth pulled over, stopping the SUV. They got out, and Brennan followed him down the path, paying close attention to the sight of his firm ass encased in the tight denim. She really wished the writers would just get on with it, and get them together, because she couldn't wait much longer to tumble into bed with him and explore that hot, sexy body for herself.

There were police and FBI agents milling about the scene. Booth shooed them away. "Give my forensic anthropologist some room!"

Brennan just shook her head, then knelt down beside what was left of the body. "Hmmm…"

Booth pulled out the little notebook he always carried, no matter where he was or what he wore. Brennan briefly wondered where he kept the damn thing…it didn't look like there was any room at all in his jeans for anything except…well, except his 'package'… Don't go there, Brennan, or we'll be here all night

"Well, Bones? Who's the victim, what did he or she die from, and who's the killer?"

She looked up at him incredulously. "What do you think I am, psychic? We need to get the bones back to the lab. I mean, we do have an hour…"

"Bones, the fans don't care about the case! They're just waiting for the end of the episode, so we can get to 'the moment'. The rest is just filler."

"Really? Well, in that case…" She turned back to the bones. "The victim is female, Caucasian, 18-24 years old, and the cause of death seems to be a gunshot wound to the back of the head. Looks like she's been dead about 10-14 days."

Booth turned to the agent standing next to him. "Any missing person reports that fit that description?"

"Just one, sir." The agent looked at the file that miraculously appeared in his hand. "Tana Jones, 19, reported missing by her abusive ex-boyfriend two weeks ago."

"Great. Give me his address…we'll have this wrapped up in 20 minutes."

They sat in a booth at the Royal Diner, pointedly ignoring the food in front of them. Brennan sighed. "I was really hungry for Chinese…what ever happened to Wong Foos?"

"I don't know, Bones…they never tell us anything."

"I heard the place burnt down, so they just decided to give us a new place, and not bother to explain anything to the viewers."

He shook his head. "No, I heard that it was too dark, and the producers didn't feel it had the right atmosphere…"

Brennan shrugged. "Well, whatever it was, this place sucks. I never get what I want, even though I order the same thing every time. I miss Sid…he always knew what I wanted." She sighed. "Damn writers," she mumbled under her breath.

"So…"

"So…"

"I knew it was the abusive boyfriend."

"No offense, Bones, but that was too easy. Everyone had that figured out."

"Yes, but…well…" her eyes grew slightly moist as she looked at him. "Apparently, I had an abusive boyfriend, too…long ago, just out of high school. So I know what that poor girl went through…" Her voice trailed off. "Well, except for the whole, him shooting me in the back of the head and leaving me in a ditch thing…" She shrugged. "I just kicked his ass."

"Wow!" Booth looked suitably impressed.

"Well, I am very knowledgeable in martial arts, and I can definitely defend myself." She looked thoughtful for a minute. "Well, except for when the writers decide they need you to rescue me."

He nodded. "Yeah, the fans like that…" He stared off into space, thinking of the time when he saved her from Kenton…and what could've happened if everyone and their brother hadn't been in that damn warehouse…

"Booth?"

"Huh, what?" He snapped back to reality. "Did you say something?"

She sighed. "I said, this is the part where you're supposed to say something sweet, and we share a look. Oh, and you have to make sure and use my real name…it's more meaningful that way."

"Oh, right." He reached across the table and put his hand over hers. He looked deep into her eyes. "I'm really sorry you had to go through that, Temperance. If I had been there…"

"I know, Booth. You would've saved me."

"I'll always be there to save you, Temperance. I promise…"

Cue the sappy music….