The story that had me writing like a maniac for a while... Emily Deschanel mentioned in an interview she would love to shoot in Morocco. I can't make that happen since I own NOTHING, but I can give us a Fanfiction episode abut that.
Thanks to Kay for the beta!
Here's Looking at You, Kid
Prologue
Monday 11/9/08, Jeffersonian Institute, 7:30 a.m.
"Pack your bags, Bones, we have a new case," Booth announced as he stormed into his partner's office.
"Why do I need to pack my bags simply because we have a new case?" she asked, looking up from her computer.
"Because we are going on a trip to Morocco. So pack some skirts and your bikini and let's go," he grinned and for the first time, she noticed the travel bag he was carrying.
"You know, Booth, it would be highly inappropriate for me to walk around in a bikini in a Muslim country. In Saudi Arabia I would be thrown into prison for that," she informed him.
"Oh, come on! Trips to the desert, camel rides, the beach…Sounds like fun to me!" he insisted. He tapped her shoulder lightly with his fist as she walked past him to the couch where her bag lay.
"You obviously know nothing about Morocco," she said as she shook her head lightly and slung her bag over her shoulders.
"I saw Casablanca several times," he shrugged.
"So you've already been to Morocco?" she asked, her brow wrinkled in confusion.
"The movie, Bones, the movie. 'Here's looking at you, kid,'" he quoted in his best Humphrey Bogart voice, which was lost on Brennan.
"Don't call me kid. And that didn't even make sense," she told him. His shoulders slumped in defeat. She really had to watch more movies. "So come on, let's go then. I still have to pack,' she said as she ushered him out of her office.
American Airways Flight 7265 to Casablanca, 2:00 a.m. (EST)
"Are you awake so you can finally tell me what this is about? I hate not knowing what to expect," Brennan complained, pulling the sleeping mask off Booth's eyes.
"Jeez, Bones, let me sleep! We've been on this damn plane for ten hours and I don't think we will get much sleep once we land because it will be five in the morning," Booth grumbled. He tried to pull the mask back down, but Brennan grasped it and held it against his forehead.
"Tell me first. Then you can sleep," she insisted sternly.
He sighed and summed up what he knew. "Okay, okay. The American Embassy in Rabat decided to build a new office wing after last winter's mold infestation. They found a body when they started digging and since the body is on embassy property, the government wants you to examine it. The authorities in Morocco are pretty pissed because our people refused to hand over the body or let them in on the crime scene."
"Then what are you doing here?" she asked him.
"I am here to protect you and your equipment, which, as you know, belongs to the FBI." He smirked at her and pulled the mask back down over his eyes, but she yanked it back up a second later.
"Why didn't they ask me if I wanted to work this case? You just stormed into my office and told me we had a case, which is a lie. You don't have a case," she said, her forehead wrinkled.
"My job is to protect you. And if the body turns out to be that of a U.S. citizen, I will have a case," he insisted, sliding the mask back down again.
Brennan relaxed in her seat for a moment, but then something occurred to her and she ripped Booth's mask off one more time. "Technically, you don't have a case yet. You just wanted to go to Morocco," she pointed out, ignoring his unnerved expression.
"Bones, just let me sleep," he pleaded, pulling the mask back down one last time.
"I just thought I should point out the facts," she shrugged and finally leaned back in her seat to let him sleep.
Rabat, Morocco, American Embassy, 9:00 a.m. (EST)
"The remains are over here, Dr. Brennan. One of the workers' shovels hit something hard as they were digging. Since the ground here is basically sand, they were understandably surprised. They saw the skull and called security right away. After we talked to you this morning, we arranged everything so you could look at the whole body, but it's not pretty," the embassy official told her as he led Booth and Brennan through the building and out to the garden.
"She's used to not pretty. This house, though, is amazing," Booth replied admiringly, turning around to look at the old villa.
"Yes," he agreed. "It's an old French villa. They are all over town. You should see the new ones out in Hay Riad or Souissi, though. They are amazing!" He stopped in front of a huge hole in the middle of an extensive palm tree-framed garden. Brennan jumped into the pit.
"Whoa, Bones, careful! Don't want you to end up with a broken neck while I'm responsible for you. When we're through here, you can do whatever you want," Booth joked as he followed her. He had expected a skeleton but was now confronted with a body. There wasn't much tissue left, but nevertheless, it was not what he had expected. Brennan crouched down beside it to take a closer look. Without thinking, he poised his pen over a notepad, knowing that in a moment she would tell him what she was thinking.
"Female, between 35 and 40 years old, Caucasian, dead for approximately six months. She's had several cosmetic surgeries on her face," she said as she stood up and turned to face Booth. "Her neck is broken and her skull is fractured," she told him.
"Add to that the fact that she's buried in a garden at the American Embassy and you've got a homicide. Seems like I have a case after all," he replied, wiggling his eyebrows.
"I need the body and some of the soil around it shipped to the Jeffersonian. Are we staying here?" she asked, looking around.
"Yup, welcome to 1001 Nights, Dr. Brennan," Booth grinned as he rolled up his sleeves. He had work to do. They had a case.
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