Hey! I know I'm still writing the other storie, "Believe it or not, she's my favourite addiction", but I couldn't get this out of my head. I hope you like it. I promise I'll keep updating the other one.
Fox ownes Bones, not me.
The Crime in the Painting
Chapter 1-let's focus, shall we?
My name is Kathy Reichs. I'm five-five, feisty, and forty-plus. Multidegreed. Overworked. Underpaid.
Dying.
I'm a forensic anthropologist. I know death. It stalks me. This is my story…
-Chop, chop Bones! We've got a case!
The forensic anthropologist and Best-selling author, Temperance Brennan smiled as she heard her partner's voice in the room. She smiled even more when she saw the special agent's charming smile. They looked at each other for a while, and then she broke the silence.
-Just a minute, I'll just save this.
-Yeah, sure- Booth said- Here, I brought you coffee.
-Thank you.
-Hey, I know that stunned look on your face, you're writing another book! Am I on it?
-No!
-What, you're not putting Ryan on this one?
-Booth, you're not Ryan!!
-Off course I am, who else could it be? I mean it's obvious that I'm the sexy FBI agent.
-Booth, you know my books are all fiction, so you're not Ryan.
-Oh come on Bones, when are you going to admit, I was your inspiration to create Ryan? Let me see.
-Booth, no!
But it was too late. Booth was already reading amazed, until Bones covered the screen with her hands.
-That's useless Bones, I've already read everything! And by the way, you're not dying!
-Booth, for the record, my books are fiction, so it's not me, it's Kathy. And scientifically speaking, it makes sense that she's dying. Every day that passes by she gets older, closer to death.
- You know, your scientific explanation sounded so much like Bella Swan.
-Who's Bella Swan?
-Just forget it Bones, let's go, or we're going to be late.
As they walked out of her office, Booth grabbed her coat and put it on her.
-Where are we going anyway?
-To the crime scene.
Bones stopped walking and rolled her eyes.
- I meant the place. And how do you know it's a crime scene, if you haven't seen the victim yet? Only if the victim was shot, which we don't know yet, because we haven't even see it!
-Hey sweetie!
-What is it Ange?
-Okay, good morning to you too sweetie.-Angela said- Did you woke up with the left food today?
-I don't know.-Brennan said confused- I usually don't look at my feet when I wake up.
Angela sighed.
-Right. What's wrong with you today?
-Booth read my manuscript
-Oh, come on Bones! It was just the first paragraph
-You are writing another book? –Angela smiled- Do I still want to have sex with Booth?
-Can we just focus on the case? Where are we going?
-I already told you Bones, we're going to the crime scene.
-You know, that's the reason you're not Ryan.
-So you're admitting I inspired you to create Ryan, but there are some reasons that make you think otherwise. But I could be Ryan
Angela smiled again. The smile she has when she discovers something about her best friend's relationships.
-No! I'm just telling you the truth, he's much smarter than you, and you're not a sexy FBI agent!
-Ouch that hurt! Take it easy Bones, geez…. But I know one day you are going to have to admit it's me.
-No I won't
-You two look so hot when you're fighting .
- Whatever you say Bones-Booth said ignoring Angela- But everything happens eventually
-I don't know what that means
-You'll have to find it out for yourself
Brennan rolled her eyes again.
-Let's focus, shall we?
8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8
It was a cold winter day of December. The streets where full of snow on Washington DC. The kids were playing outside with snowballs, making snowmen or ice-skating. None of them wondered what was about to happen on Wind Chime Lane.
Harry, Taylor, Karen and Joe were riding home after a big party. Harry was the designated driver, while the other three where still sort of drunk. Harry never drank, his dad was a drunk, and that was enough alcohol for him.
Taylor and Joe were making out on the backseat, both of them completely drunk. Karen was supposed to be the co-pilot, but instead of helping Harry, she was kneeling on the front seat with her seat belt off.
-Yahooooo!!!!
- Karen, seat down and put your seat belt on
-Oh come on Harry, who are you, my father?
-Karen, please, if the police sees us….
-So Harry, what do you think about Joe and me?- Taylor said
-About you two being together?
-Yeah
Harry looked at them on the mirror, and stopped focusing on the driving
-Well you're kind of….
-HARRY WATCH OUT!!!
Harry focused again there was a tree in front of them. He tried to stop, but it was already too late.
8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8*8=8
-Booth if you knew it was a recent car accident with no dead victims, why did you bring me here?
The partners had arrived to what Booth had called the "Crime Scene". But it didn't look like a crime scene at all. It was a car crash. They were surrounded by Police officers, firemen, and a couple of ambulances though. The sound of the kids having fun on the snow had been replaced by the sound of sirens.
-Bones, I didn't bring you here because of the car crash. Well actually, yes it was because of the car crash, but that's not the main reason of you being here. I think you might want to take a look at this.
Booth pointed down to the floor between the tree and the car. There it was: in the middle of the snow, laid a half broken skeleton. Bones looked at Booth and then, made an effort to kneel by the skeleton (the space between the tree and the car was really small)
-Male, Caucasian, aged between 18-25 years old. He was already dead before the car crash. The broken ribs indicate…
She stopped when she realized the victim had a gun on his hand.
-Booth, take a look at this.
-A gun? Was this a suicide?
-I don't know. I have to analyze these bones very well. It might be suicide, but I'm not sure, maybe he fell down from this tree, that explains the broken ribs, but the gun…I can't find any gunshot
-Okay, this is weird. Probably someone pulled down the guy from the tree and put the gun to make it look like a suicide, but he forgot that his victim wasn't shot. Or, the victim was going to suicide, but fell…
-Booth…
-What?
-There's something beneath him.
Beneath the skeleton, there was something that looked like a rectangular wooden structure covered with a cotton canvas. It was a painting, a ruined painting.
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