The crime scene looked different since the Department of Homeland Security had gotten their hands on it. White plastic hallways and a circle of FBI vans obscuring the entrance completely.
Booth pulled up in almost exactly the same parking space as last time and a shiver ran down his spine. This was all just too weird. He and Bones had barely gotten out of the car when a tall blond woman in a dark suit and a frown approached them.
"Olivia Dunham, FBI. And you must be Seeley Booth." She shook his hand with a firm grip.
"Where can I get a Hazmat suit?" Trust Bones to forget all the social niceties.
Agent Dunham smiled a controlled smile. "There are suits in one of the vans. We can grab them on our way." She led them further into the warren of official vehicles to where two men were suiting up.
"This is Dr Walter Bishop and his son Peter, they're our experts in this kind of case."
"Ah! Olivia!" The older man came forward when he spotted them, frustrating the other man who seemed to be trying to do up his fathers suit. "And this must be one of the young men who disturbed the crime scene. They do teach you how to deal with evidence at the FBI academy, don't they?"
Booth swept back his jacket and hooked his thumbs into his belt. "You know what, that's just uncalled for. One of the squints trips over his own feat and now it's my fault?"
"Don't get worked up agent." The young man patted his fathers back. "Arguing with my father is like trying to hold back the ocean. He'll forget it in ten minutes anyway."
The rest of the group got dressed in silence while Walter wandered over to entrance and chatted at the Agent stationed there.
When they were all geared up they headed in to the lab together. Booth couldn't help but rest his right hand on the halt of his gun. This place just gave him the creeps.
Dr. Bishop walked over to the woman on the floor. "You know, me and Belly never looked that deeply into de-aging. It was probably because we were relatively young at the time. I always believed it was possible." He looked over at his son and laughed. "If I had it all to do over again, maybe it would have been higher up on the list. I do miss the shorter sexual refractory period. My, when I was an undergraduate-"
"You don't need to finish that sentence, Walter. And this can't be too much different from the creepy man-baby." Peter was examining the labels on the glass jars.
"Similar goals, but reversing aging is a lot more complicated. I'll need to take samples and get them back to my lab. If you could come with us, Agent Booth, I'll need to take blood samples and maybe some spinal fluid."
Bones whirled round. "You are not taking these remains! Booth, tell him!"
"Forget the remains, you are not coming anywhere near my spine!"
"Agent Dunham, I need to have access to my lab to be able to properly analyze these samples."
"Why don't you guys just work at the Jeffersonian?" Booth shrugged. "One lab is the same as another, right?"
"It makes sense, Walter," Peter said, "Their lab has the advantage of not being 400 miles away, if nothing else."
Walter shuffled and he fiddled with his see-through mask. "I guess that would work." He suddenly became excited. "Now, lets have a look at the crime scene investigator!"