Chapter 36. Newbies

"Agent Booth, so glad you are here." Coming through the wet mid-morning grass toward Booth is a lanky young man in a suit that he must have taken out of it's package this morning. It's so blue and so crisp.

"Who are you," asks Booth, extending his hand.

"Oh sorry, sir. I'm Officer Ronald Benton, I've been put in charge of this case. They've told me about your credentials and the work you do with an anthropologist up in D.C. I think we may need your help with this case. There's been a strange development." Officer Benton leads Booth through the grass and over to the site where he had presented Larrinaga with his award only an hour ago.

"Can you be a little more specific?"

"Well, we're almost there – I'll let you see for yourself."

Booth notices that in one short hour a lot has changed for this stretch of land. The Bulldozers wasted no time in digging a trench around the perimeter where the foundation for the new Stevens Morris Nguyen Center would be laid. Booth notices the yellow crime scene tape in the lower East corner encircling a spot where the bull dozer had come to a halt in its tracks.

"What seems to be the problem?" Booth shouts toward a brown haired head inside the hole cordoned off by the crime scene tape.

"Well, the bones are completely clean. No guts or skin," answers the person. Now able to see his face, Booth realizes this must be a student.

"Who are you?" Booth demands. "Get out of there! Do not TOUCH anything. Do not STEP anywhere. Do not BREATHE other than toward to sky. WE'll get someone to lift you out of that spot."

"Who authorized students to go near the remains?" asks Booth.

"Sir, I. Sir, I don't know. This is certainly not protocol. I will see that it never happens again, sir."

"If you're on the force long enough to see a second time, Benson," Booth spits out.

"It's Benton, sir."

"What?"

"Never mind, sir"

"So what should you be doing right now, Officer Nebton?" Booth puts him on the spot.

Other than pissing my drawers? Thinks Benton. "I should have officers covering the perimeter." He states humbly as if reading it straight out of the Officer's handbook.

"And?" prompts Booth.

" I should detain anyone who was here when the remains were discovered."

"And ….?"

"Maybe I should cover the remains with a tarp in case those clouds open up and rain down on us. And then …"

"Yeah, Officer Benton, what's next?" Booth is enjoying this intimidation act. It toughens them up for the real world, he thinks.

"And then I should be at the ready to carry out any orders you hand down to me. And I should wait for those instructions but not get in your way."

"Gold star, Officer Benton. Now get that KID out of there!"

"Bones, pick up. Pick up, Bones," says Booth into his cell as he high steps through the still wet grass toward the sidewalk and the building where Larrinaga has his office in the Science and Engineering building.

"Booth, I'm in the middle of something, but I have a minute. I assure you I will be at the airport to pick you up at … at …"

"Bones, simmer down. You WILL be at the airport, but not to pick me up. I'll pick you up. I've had the Jeffersonian book you on a 12:24 direct flight on United 3369 from Logan to PHL. You should be here by 1:20 PM. Pack a bag, we may be here for a couple days."

"We have a case?" she asks, a little too energetically. She hops off the examination table, tosses aside her little paper dress, and reaches for the clothing laid out on the chair just outside the changing curtain. "Is it my birthday? Haaaa ha, haaa. That was a joke, Booth. Because it really isn't my birthday, but … you know that a new set of remains is like a wonderful gift to me – because I love my work … but why do I have to fly somewhere?"

"Bones. Again, simmer down – we do have a case, but it's here in Philly. You're coming to Philly, Bones, pack a bag!"

"Oh excellent – you know I love their cream cheese …"

"Well, there's plenty of that here. Listen, Bones, they've got a couple of moron's protecting the site – if you can call it protecting. So the sooner we can get you here the better," Booth says into the phone, one hand on his hip, as he turns around to face the grassy area, now spotted with bright yellow bull dozers and encircled in a deep brown trench. He notices Benton or Benson, or whatever his name is – has instructed his minions to encircle the entire operation in yellow police tape. "It looks like the bones have been cleaned."

"Cleaned. Boiled?"

"I don't know – that's for you and the squints to figure out. There just isn't any viscera, clothing, jewelry, or anything else for that matter. For all I know, this could be a plastic skeleton stolen from a fifth grade biology class by some pissed-off kid. SO I need you down here, Bones."

"Booth – what about Parker? I still have Parker," she says, realizing the complication and perplexed about what a person does in a situation like this.

"You still have Parker? Bones, he's supposed to be at school today!" Booth blurts at just below shouting level.

"Alright, Booth. Don't get upset - !" she begins, realizing she wasn't completely accurate. "Parker IS in school. I got him there with six minutes to spare this morning and a stomach full of pancakes …"

"You made him pancakes, Bones …?" this touches Booth as he knows it is one of Parker's favorite foods.

"I brought him to IHOP. THEY made him pancakes. I have to return to school around noon to bring him a sack lunch," she says, going through her mental list of Parker responsibilities for the day. "Then, I'll be picking him up after school at 2:55 and keeping him here at the Jeffersonian with me – though without exposing him to anything that might give him nightmares - until Rebecca and her boyfriend are released from the hospital around 5:30," Bones explains a bit apologetically.

"Well," Booth begins, turning around in a half circle and running his free hand through his hair, then thrusting it into his pocket to jangle the change pooled there. "Well, I got a body here and a bunch of amateur cops swarming around, ready to dive into the trench and muck up the whole crime scene."

"Booth, what do you want me to do? I'm not abandoning Parker. His last two days have been disjointed, his diet compromised, his sleeping pattern disrupted … both of his parents are else where doing other things and he's stuck with someone who is not even a family member …"

"Bones, you're not just someone he's STUCK with. You are the closest thing he has to family outside Rebecca and me. But you're right … "

"Booth, I can take care of Parker until Rebecca gets here, then catch the red-eye out there. Or something that departs after six."

"But what about the crime scene? I don't know how long I can hold the scene without local authorities trampling all over it. And you always say time is crucial …"

"The bones are clean?"

"They appear to be."

"Okay – you be my eyes and nose and we'll get enough information to satisfy the buzzards without compromising the scene."

"It's eyes and ears, Bones, eyes and ears …"

"Not in this case, Booth. Trust me," corrects Bones, imagining the disgusted face Booth is most likely making at the prospect of the unsavory task before him. "And don't make that face, Booth. It makes you look constipated."

"How do you know what face I'm making?" he answers, pulling the phone away from his phone and looking at it – as if there might be a camera hidden there transmitting his expression through the air waves.

"Look Booth, I'm in the doctor's office …. I'll be out of here in about fifteen. Suit up and get ready to do a little squint work. I'll call you within twenty. If it looks like I absolutely have to get there ASAP, we'll deal with it then. Talk to you in twenty."

"But where am I gonna get a suit? I'm not going down into that mud hole in Armani."

"No more excuses, Booth. What are you, a little girl?" asks Bones, enjoying the rare opportunity to feminize her alpha male partner. "Every ambulance is stocked with two protective full body suits – get one from them. See you in twenty – well, not SEE you, HEAR you," she finishes.

"I know what you meant. In twenty," Booth pushes the button, snaps it shut.

"Hey, Berstein, where's the ambulance?"

Benton, standing right outside the crime scene tape, hands on hips, chest puffed up – Man in Charge posture, swings around and runs toward Booth. "Sir?"

"Where's the ambulance parked?"

"Ambulance, sir?"

"Yes, the truck that brings all the medical toys and the two EMTs?"

"Well, sir. We're pretty sure this victim is dead, sir. I didn't think …"

"Obviously, Berstein. Ambulances do more than revive people – they are mobile tool boxes. Get one here within five and meet me down there, " he says pointing to the area inside the police tape where the gaping hole has punctured the green.

"I'm on it!" Benton begins walking back to the sceen.

"Bernton!" shouts Booth. Benton turns around to face him.

"IN FIVE!" Benton nods, turns, and runs to his squad car.

"Dr. Brennan, according to your blood work, your hormone levels are exactly where they should be. You have no markers for cancerous growths, your cervical swab is clear. Your height and weight are within the range we like to see for a healthy female in mid thirties."

"What about these – hot flashes, heart palpitations …?"

"If you feel it's necessary, we can hook you up to an EKG and do a stress test … But, Dr. Brennan, you are far from the onset of menopause. In fact, if you were interested in becoming pregnant, now would be the optimum time."

"NO – I don't have time for a stress test this morning. We just got a case. But there IS something going on here."

"I'm going to write a prescription for Lorazepam, it will help ease your panic attacks .."

"I don't think I'm having panic attacks. I'm a very well-rounded, happy and controlled person … these can't be panic attacks – it must be something else. And I am not taking Lorazepam …"

"Dr. Brennan, I understand your position. But you are a healthier than usual mid-thirties woman with a high-stress job and little emotional support outside your work. It would be quite normal …"

She can tell that Brennan isn't buying any of this, so she stops and just looks at her with a pitiful expression on her face.

"Thanks for the shrink referral, but I already have one of those," she says.

"And what does your shrink say about these … symptoms … you are experiencing?"

"What?" Brennan says. "I haven't told him about them."

"Might not be a bad idea, considering … "

"I am NOT crazy …. Thank you for your time this morning."

"As always, you are welcome. Call me if anything changes or if you change your mind about the Lorazepam."

"Fine – can you get that prescription filled while I'm getting dressed?" she asks, thinking – great – a sedative. Do I need Valium?

"Certainly, Dr. Brennan. And again, thank you for the work you did to help identify my sister's kid."

"It was no problem," Brennan replies, placing her hand on the doctor's forearm and giving her a compassionate smile. "I hope the family is working toward a place of healing?"

"Trying. I'll get that prescription for you." She smiles at Brennan with a look of appreciation and something else ... pity?