This story was just an idea rattling around in my head, wanting to come out. So, here you go. (F.Y.I, it's from my point of view) sorry it's kind of short
DISCLAIMER: No, I do not own Bones, Fox, or any of its characters. I just borrow them.
Introduction
After having to do a career day report on Anthropology, I decided this occupation was intriguing. My mom signed me up for a "Junior Forensics Class", which somehow lead to this. Jake was another kid in the class and had been referred to the Jeffersonian. So now, everyday at 4:00pm, I find myself here.
I was glad to hear my expertise was needed and quite useful. The way Angela sees it, young people such as Jake and I, see the world in a different way—from a different point of view.
Now, I've come to like it here. The squints are great and we get in on all the gossip. The job is also satisfying. I like that feeling.
4:36 pm, September 12
The Platform
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I noticed all of the squints lounging around, doing nothing particular. Angela had a sketch book resting in her lap with a pencil in her hand. Hodgins was glaring though a microscope while Zack fiddled with the computer. There were no bones on the table and Dr. Brennan nowhere insight.
Jake scanned his card and I followed not needing to scan mine. No one turned around to greet us. Were they asleep?
"Hey." Well, someone had to speak up.
Then all eyes turned on us.
"Hi sweetie." Ange was one of the nicest people I knew.
"I take it we don't have a case." When Jake spoke Zack and Hodgins both responded "no" in unison.
"Where's Doctor Brennan?"
"Nevada." Hodgins.
I just rolled my eyes.
"I agree. Brennan's out fighting crime and we're stuck here. That whole arrangement—it sucks." Angela must have seen my eye roll.
With that I headed off to my makeshift desk and got a start on homework. This is going to be one of the longest hours of my life. Jake did the same.
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Down in Nevada . . .
Booth and Brennan hopped off the ski lift bundled up in their parkas and snow boots.
They trudged through the snow covering their faces with scarves to protect their faces from blistering winds. Wham. A body appeared before their eyes.
Agent Greene immediately spoke up. "A local skier he lost a glove in the snow, bent down to pick it up and felt something hard underneath. The rest of the story you can probably guess."
"Female. Approximately age 20 to 27," She almost had to yell.
"Time of death, about 6 to 12 months ago."
"Wouldn't a body that – fresh - freeze out here?" Booth asked.
"Actually, yes."
Please review!!! I need ideas to keep going.