Note: I'm a little unsure about this one – I'm not sure I captured the main character properly.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! As always, I loved reading your thoughts.

J words:

Juvenile, jaded, jail, jinx, Japanese, joke, jest, Jell-o, jump, justice, jag, jock, jazz, jam, Jack, jeep, jug,

Title: Justice

Disclaimer: I don't own them

I shouldn't have answered the phone.

I'm a federal prosecutor, cherie. I put the bad guys in jail. I do not fly down to New Orleans to help an FBI agent defend his partner against murder charges.

Well, not until I answered that call.

My mistake was assuming that Booth was calling about the case that goes to trial on Monday. He wasn't, though. He was calling because his partner was being charged with murder.

Naturally, I assumed that something had gone wrong on a case and his partner had taken a shot that he shouldn't have taken.

Did you catch how many things are wrong with that sentence?

That's right. There was no case involved, the victim was stabbed and skinned, and, of course, the most interesting one – Seeley Booth's partner was definitely not a "he".

Nope, Booth's partner was a woman – a woman who writes best-selling novels, has been charged with assault, likes to hunt, is a registered sharpshooter, and is a world-renowned forensic anthropologist who apparently spends her vacations doing volunteer forensic anthropology.

I shouldn't have answered the phone. I did, though, so instead of spending the day preparing for the next trial, I rushed to pack my bags and head back to my hometown of New Orleans. I hadn't been back in a couple of years, but when I stepped off the plane, the air just felt like home. It would have been good to be there if I hadn't had to deal with a hard-headed know-it-all doctor of anthropology who kept helping the prosecution.

Apparently, she's all about truth and justice. She had a hard time remembering that helping the prosecution would make it easier for them to throw her in jail.

I pity the guards who'd have to deal with that one if she were incarcerated – especially if it were for something she didn't do.

Where was I?

Right.

If I hadn't answered the phone, Booth wouldn't have been able to sweet talk me into rushing to New Orleans to help his partner – you know, the one who had a history of violence, couldn't remember the last couple of days, looked like she'd been in a fight, and was charged with murder.

When I got there, Booth was hovering around his partner and she was trying to make my hair turn grey by giving the police incriminating information.

I put a stop to that – I may not be a defense lawyer, but I'm not stupid. I whisked Dr. Brennan out of the police station, Booth tagging along like Little Bo Peep's lost sheep. That's the first time I got to see them interact – and let me tell you, that was well worth the trip. You'd think someone had taken two ornery cats, stuck them in a sack together, swung it around until they got good and mad, and then put them in a hotel room with a federal prosecutor (who, by the way, was still regretting having answered the phone).

Booth was protective, Dr. Brennan was insisting she could take care of herself, and I was hoping we never had to go to trial. Under the bickering, though, was a deep trust and caring that I suspect was what kept them from killing each other.

I've known Seeley Booth for a long time, and believe me, this was not the way he normally acted with his partners.

Eventually, Dr. Brennan used that over-sized brain of hers and figured out who the real murderer was. That got her off the hook and let us all head back home.

The three of us were on the same flight. Booth took care of the seating arrangements. I'm pretty sure I even saw him flash his badge while he was talking to the staff at the counter. I know I saw him flash that smile of his. When the dust settled, Dr. Brennan was seated at the window. Booth even made sure that her broken arm would be next to the window. Booth was seated beside her. Somehow, I ended up three rows in front of them.

Now, it's hard to keep a watchful eye on someone from three rows ahead of them, but when I walked by on my way to the bathroom, I saw that his arm was around her and she was asleep, her head on his shoulder.

I don't know if they're in love or in lust or what have you. I do know they're not "just partners" – even if they haven't figured that out yet.

I spent the rest of the flight speculating about what exactly was going on between them – and thinking about my payment.

Don't misunderstand me, I'm sure if I placed a bill in front of Dr. Brennan, she'd pay without a moment's thought. That will pay for the legal work.

There's still the matter of the payment for the favor, though. I'm a lawyer, cherie, we don't do things for free. I did something for Booth, he needs to do something for me.

I can wait. I don't want to waste my favor on something trivial. For now, I'm content to let him owe me one.

You never know when having Special Agent Seeley Booth owe you a favor might come in handy.

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