Disclaimer: Bones and all its characters belong to Fox.
Though his wristwatch read that it was barely seven o'clock in the morning, Booth wasn't surprised to see the silver sports car parked in the Jeffersonian's employee parking garage. In fact, he had been counting on it being there. He had important information to share with Dr. Brennan. In his hands, he clutched the file of the most recent victim in their current case.
Well, perhaps 'recent' wasn't the best word to use. All five of the victims they discovered had been dead for at least twenty years. The first had been discovered when a construction group broke ground for a new apartment complex just outside of Washington D.C. When the body was identified as ex-gang member Rick Deckard, the case was bumped to the FBI. Since Booth was the one with the 'genius scientist partner' he was the one who had the pleasure of taking the case.
He frowned as he entered the Jeffersonian and began heading to Brennan's office. Booth hated involving Brennan in cases that involved organized crimes. The last gang they messed with, Mara Muerte, had put a hit out on her and Booth didn't really want to think about what happened in the mafia case with Kenton. He had done everything he could to keep Brennan uninvolved, but that proved impossible as more bodies kept being uncovered. They had been on the case for two weeks and Booth couldn't even be positive that this fifth body would be the last they uncovered.
As he reached the Medico-Legal lab, he pulled out his security card and swiped it with practiced ease. He was surprised to see that there were several people in Brennan's office. She stood off to the side as they fiddled around with the computer on her desk. Booth noted, somewhat apprehensively, that she seemed extremely annoyed. Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest and her foot was tapping impatiently.
Booth entered cautiously.
"What's up Bones?" he asked, motioning to the three maintenance man crowded around her desk.
She turned to him, her jaw clenched in irritation.
"My computer crashed," she said tersely.
"That's a bummer," Booth replied breezily. "Guess there's not much we can do. Let's go-"
Brennan's arms moved from her chest to her hips and she fixed him with an angry glare.
"Booth!" she said, her voice rising with aggravation. "This is serious. I can't access any of my files. Someone could have tampered with them."
Her eyes swung back to her computer. The screen was still blinking the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal lab logo. It didn't seem like the maintenance crew was making any progress. Booth took in his partner's appearance. She looked severe and intimidating despite her slim frame and pretty features. The three men working on her computer seemed to be terrified of her. But Booth could see that underneath her irritation, she was worried about what this could mean for their case.
"Hey," he said softly. "You have all your files backed up don't you?"
She nodded slowly, not moving her eyes away from her desk.
"That's not what I'm worried about," she told Booth, her voice low. "Even if all my files are still present on the computer, I have no way of knowing if someone has seen them. I'm afraid this could compromise our case."
"I don't think so Bones," he said reassuringly. "I'll get an FBI tech guy to take a look at your computer, see if anyone's been messing around with it. It'll be fine."
The tension in her shoulders subsided slightly but she stilled seemed wary. One of the maintenance men felt her eyes burning a hole in the back of his skull and dare to look up. He turned away quickly, dropping a screw driver in the process. Booth sighed and grabbed Brennan's arm.
"Come on, let's get out of here," he urged.
Brennan twisted out his grip and pursed her lips at him.
"Booth," she said seriously. "I need to be here when my computer's back up."
He placed his hand between her shoulder blades and pushed her gently to the door. She dug her heels in slightly, resisting him. Booth sighed.
"What you need to do Bones," he stated, "is come eat breakfast with me before you make one of these hard-working and dedicated employees cry."
Brennan opened her mouth to protest but shut it quickly as she looked over at the three men behind her desk. When her eyes settled on them, all three cowered and avoided eye contact. Guiltily, she allowed Booth to steer her from her office.
Across the table from Booth, Brennan glared gloomily into her cup of coffee. She had fought Booth's attempts to get her to order something more substantial, and to retaliate, Booth had ordered himself enough food to feed three people. He was now groaning obscenely as he devoured a pile of pancakes.
"Mmm Bones, you should try this." he insisted, mouth full of pancake.
She gave him a deeply disgusted look as he waved a forkful of butter-slavered, syrup-saturated pancake underneath her nose.
"I already told you Booth," she grumbled, pushing his hand away. "I'm not hungry."
Booth let his fork clatter to his plate. He allowed Brennan to stew in silence for a few moments before moving on to his bowl of fruit.
"Look at all this fruit!" he exclaimed. "I don't think I can eat all of it. It'd be a real shame if it went to waste, wouldn't it be? Don't you think so Bones?"
He gave her his charm smile. Brennan sighed and snatched the bowl away from him.
"If I eat the fruit, will you stop pestering me?" she snapped.
Booth looked up innocently.
"It's a possibility..." he replied.
She glared at him as she bit into some melon. He did his best not to let his face break out into a triumphant smile. If Brennan felt too much like Booth had won, her stubborn streak wouldn't allow her to continue eating. Booth quickly pulled out the new file to distract her. She perked up with interest.
"Another body?" she asked through a bite of banana.
Booth nodded as he handed it over.
"Farmer found it late last night," Booth explained. "It was in an abandoned field about a quarter mile away from where the first body was found."
Brennan opened the file and carefully flipped through the photos and papers.
"The FBI team put that together this morning for me," he told her. "They've had surveillance on the crime scene all night, but I told them not to touch anything until we got there."
She was now examining a photo of the skeleton. It was barely discernible through the long grass. Booth watched as her eyes narrowed and her head tilted in a familiar way.
"Think it's one of our gang members?" he asked.
Brennan closed the file and shrugged noncommittally.
"Could be," she said. "But I won't be able to tell until I can examine the body."
Booth smiled as she finished up the fruit bowl. He placed a couple of bills on the table.
"Let's go then."
Brennan was kneeling next to the skeleton, gently folding down the surrounding grass to get a clear view of it. Her glove encased hands delicately picked a few bladed off the skull. Booth bent down beside her.
"What do you got for me Bones?" he asked, rubbing his hands together.
"Definitely male," she stated, her eyes now roaming over the skull."Bullet wound to the temporal bone is consistent with the other four victims, but I won't be able to confirm that until we're back at the lab."
"Any idea how long this one's been dead?" Booth inquired.
Brennan frowned slightly as she considered the remains.
"Probably about twenty years..." she said slowly.
"So it's probably one of our guys?" Booth said, peering over her shoulder.
Brennan shook her head absently.
"Booth, you know I don't like to jump to..." her voice trailed off as she leaned to look at something on the other side of the body.
"Got something Bones?" Booth asked eagerly.
She stood up and gingerly stepped over the remains. Her fingers delicately touched the tips of the waist-high grass directly to the body's left.
"Look Booth," she said, motioning for him to come closer. "These blades of grass are bent in the opposite direction of all the others."
Booth moved around the body to her side. She was right. There was a path of grass that was bent sharply as though someone had trampled through and then tried to rearrange it so that no one could tell. Booth cursed himself for not noticing- what was the use of having training as a Ranger when he missed such crucial details?As always, he had been watching Brennan.
"Good eye Bones," he conceded gruffly.
She acknowledged his praise with a short nod. Her eyes were still focused on the bent blades of grass. Gently, she parted the long blades. Below in the ground, a shoe print was visible. Booth eyes narrowed.
"Could belong to the farmer," he suggested dubiously. "Or somebody in the surveillance crew."
"I don't think so Booth..." Brennan said, looking up at him. "In the crime scene photos, the only disturbance in the grass was the path we approached from. This would have to have been made after the photos were taken."
"Scoot over Bones," Booth said, lightly grabbing her arm. "Let me take a look."
Careful to avoid stepping on the remains, the two switched places. Booth knelt by the footprint. It was fairly large- Booth would judge it to be about a size thirteen. But it was the print that interested him so much; it was what was next to the print that grabbed his attention.
"Take a look at this Bones..." he said.
She knelt slightly behind him, her head looking over his shoulder and her breath puffing in his ear. Booth desperately tried to ignore her proximity. He pointed to the grass.
"See that flattened region right there Bones?" he asked, his voice hushed.
Brennan nodded, a crease appearing in her forehead.
"It looks like..." she began in a whisper.
"Something heavy was dragged through the grass," he finished for her, unsure why exactly they were both whispering.
Brennan placed her hand on his knee so she could lean over him to get a closer look. Her eyes narrowed like a hawk's, and she removed her hand so she could grab Booth's arm.
"Look!" she hissed quietly. "There's blood..."
Most seemed to have been absorbed into the ground, but there was obviously dried blood on the surface of the flattened grass. Brennan didn't let go of his arm.
"I thought you said there was supposed to be someone keeping watch over the crime scene..." she voiced quietly. "Nobody was here when we arrived."
"They had a local policeman keeping watch." Booth told her lowly. "I just figured he got sick of waiting and left his shift early..."
They both sat close together and stared at the trail of blood that followed the flattened path. A body had been dragged that way. A fresh body. Booth could feel the thump of his pulse in his neck. He look over to Brennan. Her eyes were wide.
"Come on," he said, breaking the silence.
He gently pried her fingers off his arm, cupping his hand behind her elbow to help her to her feet. Slowly, he pulled out his gun. With Brennan trailing right behind him, he followed the path of bent grass. When his shoes bumped something, he stopped abruptly and Brennan collided into his back.
"Sorry Booth," she whispered, peering around him. "What did you find?"
"Body," Booth replied tensely.
He whipped out his cellphone as Brennan dropped to her knees by the body. The man appeared to be in his forties. He was wearing a police uniform and there was a bullet hole that went straight from temple to temple. Though it seemed to be unnecessary, Brennan pressed two fingers to his wrist, checking for a pulse.
"Dead," she told Booth softly. "Rigor mortis is just beginning to set in so I'd say only for about three hours."
Booth nodded to her, his ear pressed to his cellphone.
"This is Booth," he barked into the receiver. "We need units down to the crime scene off Chapel Road- we have another body on our hands."
The agent on the other side gave an affirmation and as Booth snapped his cell shut, Brennan inhaled sharply.
"What is it Bones?" Booth asked quickly, dropping to her side.
Slowly and wordlessly, she turned to him. Her eyes were unreadable. In her gloved hands she held a piece of paper. Booth looked it over, a sinking feeling in his stomach.
The note read, "First warning."
