The Computer and the Anthropologist
Brennan sat at her computer in the dark until she felt her leg go to sleep and her eyes began to grow droopy. She kept reading, until finally head on desk she wiped sleep from her eyes to see Sherlock, who had arrived back at The Jeffersonian in the early hours of the morning. She saw a dark silhouette in the doorway of her office and noticed the smirk on the detective's face before her body adjusted to the new feeling of awakedness. She jerked quickly upright and realised that Sherlock's gaze was fixed on the soft glow of her computer screen. She glanced at it, and realised that it was left on his blog page. She quickly closed the window and looked back at Sherlock.
"Have you ever been to a body farm?" Sherlock asked, like there was nothing weird about suddenly talking to a person he'd only been able to argue with before.
"For a case once, but I've always waited for an opportunity to go back."
"John took me once. But he didn't seem to enjoy it," Sherlock's brow furrowed slightly, "I've always wanted to go back." Sherlock said wistfully.
Brennan smiled back at him, "Would you like to go to one? There's one around here. We could go together."
Sherlock looked back at her, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
And as quietly as the detective had entered, he left. Back to the gurney and one of his only decomposing friends, who would have been studying her own decomposition if she weren't the one with maggots crawling through her empty brain.