Big shock, I still don't own Bones or anything pertaining to; many congratulations on all the clever people who do!
Thanks heaps to all the lovely people who commented on my first chapter; makes me all warm and gooey inside! I've changed the name of the story and am going ahead with something like the original plan; so far it's actually almost on track! Huzzah!
Enigmaticat

It was early morning, and Dr. Brennan once again found herself sitting in her office, working. She hadn't slept all that well the night before, tossing and turning and waking up constantly throughout the night. Still, she was due to receive the remains of what she hoped was a genuine Inca mummy sometime during the morning; that was worth waking up for. In the meantime, she had a box of bones to deliver to storage. Rechecking her email and satisfying herself that she had nothing more urgent to do, she gulped the last of her coffee, tossed the empty cup in the rubbish bin, and strode out the door.

She was on her way back from storage when she heard a shout from behind her. "Hey Bones, we got a case." Booth jogged to catch up with her, and was about to start spitting out details when he noticed the look on her face. "I thought I told you to get some sleep last night! Looks like your six hours just didn't cut it, unless you've got some fancy bit of science to explain away the bags under your eyes…"

Temperance huffed in exasperation. "I said I need six solid hours of sleep. Not that I can think of a single reason for why I should be held accountable to you for ensuring I get my nightly sleep requirement, but for the record I went to bed unusually early and slept uncommonly badly. I couldn't stop thinking."

"Ooh, thinking about anything in particular? Or anyone?" Booth flashed a wicked grin.

Brennan's face was deadpan as she explained to him, "as a matter of fact, yes; I'm supposed to be authenticating what I hope to identify as the remains of an Inca mummy unearthed in a dig in Peru a few weeks ago."

"Well, that mummy is just going to have to wait a bit longer because we have a case. Some guys doing maintenance down in the sewer found something a lot nastier than a river of crap…"

"If you think that is an amusing way of telling me that you have found a body, then you are sorely mistaken Booth," Brennan said, raising her eyebrows in a show of disapproval.

"Nope, nothing funny about a dead person in a sewer."

"Then why are you smiling at me like that? You're telling me it's not funny, it doesn't seem funny, but you're looking at me like I'm missing the joke." Brennan was beginning to feel quite annoyed at the silly look on Booth's face.

Booth looked a bit sheepish when he confessed, "I dunno… just thought it was a kinda crappy way to die… get it? Crappy as in sewer?" On seeing that Bones was clearly unimpressed, Booth hurried to apologise. "Ok, bad pun, point is, I need you to come with me."

Brennan sighed her resignation as she went into her office, followed by Booth. Picking up her kit, she marched off to tell Zach where she was going.

---

Booth slammed his hands down hard on the steering wheel, muttering angrily at what was their fourth red traffic light in a row. Bones turned to look at him with a smirk. She used a calm, deliberate voice, speaking slowly and stringing her words out as she told him, "you do realise that hitting the steering wheel will have no effect on how soon this light changes… don't you?".

Booth took a deep breath before answering her, "yes Bones, I do realise that. No doubt you can tell me the anthropological reasoning behind hitting steering wheels, and no doubt it will have something to do with asserting my alpha male dominance, but can we please save it 'till we get out of all this damn traffic?".

Bones looked momentarily affronted by this response, before grinning slyly. "I must have forgotten that males also are less efficient at multi-tasking and are prone to being confrontational when they are feeling insecure." Booth opened his mouth to protest this apparent assumption of his insecurities but was drowned out by the sound of Debbie Harry's "French Kissing in the USA" blaring from his car speakers. Beside him, his partner sat demurely gazing out the window, looking anything but innocent. It was going to be a long drive…