Brennan watched as her partner's hands tightened around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. He glanced at her, his eyes pleading. She just bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

Behind them, Angela had her eyes closed as she hummed along to her iPod while Zack and Hodgins were bickering loudly.

"You're on my side of the line!"

"No, you're on mine, you idiot!"

"How can you call me an idiot? My IQ is far superior to yours."

"Whatever you say, idiot, now get off my side."

Booth slammed on the brakes, jerking everyone forwards and even extracting a small yelp from Brennan as she slammed her hands into the dashboard, the seatbelt cutting in to her shoulder. Booth's eyes offered her an apology as he turned to the back seat.

"That's enough! You two are worse than Parker! He's not even five, which shows just how small your mental ages are, no matter how genius level your IQs. Now, we're nearly at the entry gate so here's a suggestion for you and bear in mind that if you don't do what I tell you, I have numerous loaded guns in this car. We're going to travel the next couple of miles in total silence and when we get to Quantico, you're not going to show me up by acting like idiots. Yes Zack, I said idiots. Is that clear?"

The two men nodded mutely while Angela just smirked.

"Oh, I love it when you get all take-charge, Booth."

He had to force himself not to smile as he turned back round, avoiding Brennan's suppressed giggles. He sighed happily at the silence, about to restart the car.

"That idiot started it."

Booth just banged his head against the steering wheel.

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The car pulled up to the entry gates, the group handing over their identification to the severe looking guard. Angela flashed him her seductive smile, even winking, but she just got a blank stare in return.

Entering the complex, Brennan found herself staring in disbelief at the vast wooded grounds around them. The boys behind them had finally shut up, their noses practically pressed against the windows as Booth drove towards the main buildings.

He felt a distinct sense of both pride and nerves as they got closer, remembering the first day he ever spent at the complex and the beginning of his FBI training. He watched the new recruits jogging alongside the road and remembered that same sense of excitement, knowing that you were entering in to something special, something noble.

Pulling up in front of the main building, he instinctively looked up at the enormous inscription over the entrance and felt a surge of pride.

Fidelity. Integrity. Bravery.

A number of young recruits scuttled over to help with their luggage. Angela watched them with a grin, eyeing their blue shirts and khaki slacks.

"Just look at their cute little uniforms. It's like grown up boy scouts."

Brennan clambered out of the SUV behind her, taking in deep breaths of the damp air. She could have easily mistaken it for an upmarket, sprawling country retreat if it wasn't for the echoes of gunfire reverberating through the trees. Admiring the honey-coloured buildings, she began to understand why the place had earned the nickname 'The Quantico Hilton'.

A blonde woman in a smartly tailored black suit marched over to them, a professional smile immediately offered to the group. Reaching Booth, she grinned widely.

"Seeley. Always a pleasure to see you. Still drinking your three glasses of milk a day?"

"Still stealing men's boxers from the laundry?"

He flashed her his charm smile as he pulled her in to a brief but friendly embrace. She turned back to the others.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all. My name is Doctor Catherine Harwood but you can all just call me Katie. I'm a Profiler with the Investigative Support Unit, previously known as the Behavioural Science Unit."

Hodgins stepped forward, a suspicious look on his face. She offered up an indulgent smile as she reached her hand out towards him, bridging the gap.

"I'm guessing you're Doctor Jack Hodgins and you have a conspiracy theory about me and why I'm here."

His eyes narrowed as he glared at her.

"You know who we all are?"

"Of course I do. No one gets the VIP treatment at Quantico without in-depth security checks, just as I'm sure you all had to undergo questioning to work with high clearance cases at the Jefforsonian."

She grinned at him, leaning in close with a conspiratorial whisper.

"There's more than a few theories that I'm sure we can share while you're visiting us. I hear you have a fascinating take on the JFK assassination and its link with the death of Princess Diana."

He nodded happily as she turned to Bones.

"And you must be the infamous Doctor Brennan. It truly is a pleasure to meet you. I simply adored your book."

Brennan politely shook the woman's hand but couldn't shake her suspicions of her as easily as Jack did. She mentally chastised herself. Booth seemed friendly with the woman and he was the one with the instincts about people. That was good enough for her. For now.

"Thank you. Are you our liaison while we're here?"

She nodded curtly.

"Something like that. Your publishers got in touch with me when they learnt you were coming here. They wanted you to get a better perspective on the more psychological side of the things we do here."

Brennan's jaw tightened.

"I see."

She felt Booth's frown on her but did not look at him. Doctor Harwood did not miss it either and turned back to the group, waving a guiding hand in front of her.

"Shall we?"

She led the rag tag group up the steps and in to the main lobby. It was spacious and bathed with the late afternoon sunlight. Brennan watched as Angela's artistic eyes roamed every inch of the enormous space, drinking in the details hungrily. She smiled to herself. At least one of them seemed set to have a good time.

Her gaze fell on Booth. He was laughing heartily at something Doctor Harwood had just said, her hand laid casually on her forearm. Maybe Angela wouldn't be the only one.

She tore her eyes away as she swallowed hard, focusing instead on the rows of flags outside, flanking a large fountain. It all seemed so serene now she couldn't hear the distant noise of gunfire. Turning her gaze up through the sunny atrium, she examined the numerous quotations inscribed above their heads about fidelity, integrity and bravery. The FBI obviously did a good job picking and training their recruits because those were three words she would definitely use to describe her partner.

Doctor Harwood turned back to them, addressing the group as a whole.

"As you can see, this is the main lobby. There are numerous glass corridors that lead off from here to take you to each of our twenty-one buildings. They come together in a glass covered quad right in the middle of the complex so, if you do get lost, just head back there and there's plenty of signs to get you back on course."

The group nodded absently, still drinking in the surprising grandeur of the place. Doctor Harwood smiled as she threw an amused glance at Booth, giving them a moment to absorb it all, before she continued.

"Right now though, I'm going to give you a tour of Hogan's Alley."

She led them out of a side door where two oversized vehicles were waiting, looking suspiciously like golf carts. Booth practically skipped towards them, a childlike grin spread across his face.

"Sorry Katie, I'm driving."

He bounded over to the driver's side and she slid in beside him, Hodgins quickly placing himself on the bench-like seat behind to regale her with his theories. Brennan marched over to the second cart and slid in to the driver's seat, Angela claiming the passenger side. Zach jumped on behind them, still clutching a bulky case of expensive equipment he had fervently refused to hand over to the cadets.

The radio crackled on the dashboard and Katie's voice filled the cart.

"Are you sure you're ok driving that, Doctor Brennan? We have plenty of trainees who'd be happy to take you."

Brennan rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure I'll manage."

Booth's cart pulled away and Brennan followed, keeping close behind. Angela cleared her throat loudly and Temperance sighed.

"What?"

The artist shrugged innocently.

"It's nothing, sweetie. I'm just getting the feeling that you're not too keen on Booth's little Tour Guide Barbie."

Brennan said nothing, keeping her eyes focused on the route ahead as they crossed Hoover Road.

"Listen, just because she knows Booth doesn't mean that there's anything going on there."

"That's not what bothers me."

Angela beamed triumphantly.

"Ah hah! So there is something that bothers you about her!"

Brennan shot her a look but nodded slowly. If she couldn't tell her best friend, then who could she talk to?

"She's basically just a glorified psychologist. You know how much I hate psychology."

"Sure, sweetie. But I'm thinking this also has something to do with the fact that your publishers asked her to meet with you."

Brennan felt her jaw muscles tense as her hands clenched the steering wheel. Angela sighed heavily.

"I'll take that as a yes. Don't hold it against her, Bren, she's just doing what she was asked to do. And don't forget, she simply adored your book."

Brennan laughed at her friend's surprisingly accurate impression, pulling the cart to a rather sudden stop behind Booth's.

Clambering out, she was surprised to find what looked like a typical small American town laid out in front of them. Doctor Harwood grinned at the group.

"Welcome to Hogan's Alley."

She led them forward, reciting the usual tour speech as she walked.

"Built in 1986, this part of the complex was set up after two agents were killed in a Miami shoot-out. The purpose of our little town is to give our new agents as much practice as possible on the street. As you can see, we have our own bank, post office, motel, casino, movie theatre and court house."

Brennan stared around her in disbelief. She wandered towards the theatre, apparently showing a film called 'Manhattan Melodrama'. She wondered if that was a real movie or if it was some kind of FBI in-joke. She made a mental note to ask Booth later.

Her eyes strolled ahead of her and rested on The Dogwood Inn. At $48 a night, the motel seemed as authentic as the rest of the town. Katie appeared beside her with a smile.

"That motel actually houses the offices of our Chief of Practical Applications Unit. He basically acts as the Mayor of Hogan's Alley and regularly participates in training exercises with a load of actors who are told to be as unhelpful as possible. In fact, while showing Bureau officials around the premises, he was actually 'arrested' by some over-zealous recruits who thought he was still playing the bad guy. I wonder who they could have been…"

She grinned at Booth who flushed a little red and turned away, pretending to read a poster outside the Post Office. Hodgins laughed heartily.

"Good move, G-Man."

Booth shot him a dangerous look as he patted the holster on his hip.

"Still got a loaded gun over here, Hodgins."

His hands raised in surrender, the scientist wandered over to inspect the window of a small bakery. Still grinning, Katie resumed her speech.

"In actuality, these buildings are just facades. Inside are offices and fully functional classrooms. The two real exceptions are the court house and the casino."

She waved her hand in the direction of the two buildings.

"We actually have a retired judge who presides over our court, allowing our trainees to practice giving evidence and hopefully not get thrown out or commit perjury on their first attempt. Our casino houses black jack, roulette, poker, all the usual games to teach our agents the basics of gambling in case it's needed for undercover work."

Brennan's eyes were drawn to Booth who was staring at the building wistfully, and couldn't help but wonder if that was where his problems started.

Katie made something of a show of looking at her watch.

"Anyway, we need to head back up to the main complex if we're hoping to find anything left for dinner."

The crowd moved back towards their golf buggies and dutifully drove back the way they had come. Re-entering the lobby, Katie led them down one of the numerous glass corridors, the group close behind her. She was still obviously in tour guide mode as she pointed down a corridor on her right.

"Down there was where the Investigative Support Unit, or ISU, used to be housed. Sixty feet below our indoor firing range, the offices were in what used to be a fallout shelter for the Director and his Chief of Staff. To get there, you had to press L-L, or 'Low-Low' as we called it, in the elevator. Hell, we were deeper than the dead down there. Since 1998 though, we've moved up in the world. Literally."

She smirked at Booth who was matching her step for step, knowing exactly where she was going.

"Now we get windows."

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The conversation over lunch was largely informative, detailing the schedule for their weekend at Quantico. Brennan didn't realise that she was being less than civil to their host until Booth basically glared at her over their meal.

After a few minutes of eating in silence, Zach asked Katie about the ISU.

"Well, it was developed in 1972 after its founders, Howard Teten and Patrick Mulaney, put together a course for FBI agents on abnormal psychology. They then learned from psychiatrist James Brussel how he used behavioural clues from crime scenes and letters to solve the difficult case of a long-running serial bomber in New York. So right from the start, the unit was grounded in the principles of psychology."

Brennan couldn't help but interrupt.

"You mean, the supposed science of profiling is based purely on probabilities, on guess work."

Booth cleared his throat loudly as the mood at the table turned ice cold. He leaned over to Katie, his words a manner of apology for his partner.

"Bones doesn't like hunches. Give her cold, hard facts any day of the week."

Doctor Harwood nodded curtly, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Have you ever read any Sherlock Holmes stories, Doctor Brennan?"

She blinked rapidly, confused by the sudden change of direction in the conversation.

"Well, yes I have, though I don't see how - "

Doctor Harwood cut her off.

"How about Edgar Allen Poe's C. Auguste Dupin? Or even Dostoysevky's Inspector Porfiry? They are all essentially early fictional profilers. This fiction, especially in pieces like 'Silence of the Lambs' has created something of a media backlash against our profession, making us appear amateurish like the Keystone Kops."

"I don't know what that means."

Katie cocked her head to one side, obviously unsure if the anthropologist was making fun of her. With a sigh, she continued.

"Personality dictates behaviour so what an offender shows at a crime scene is what he or she will show in other facets of their life. Predators have an abundance of choices to make - who to target, how to strike, what weapon to use, where to leave the body, how they might wish to position it after the fact. They can choose to take a life or spare it. Their decisions are essentially a behavioural fingerprint."

Brennan laid down her cutlery, her voice hard.

"But it is still essentially guesswork. The fact that the majority of past serial killers have been white males means that you automatically assume any more of them will be white males too. There is a distinct margin of error that I find unacceptable."

The group's heads snapped back and forth between the two women as if they watching a tennis match.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Doctor Brennan, but I should point out that profiling is not even the primary investigative tool and simply serves to prioritise the analysis of evidence in the course of an investigation."

"Psychology is simply a soft science. Profiling is the reason why it took the authorities so long to catch the sniper killers around Washington and Maryland a few years ago. They weren't white serial killers and you had assumed they were."

"Doctor Brennan, you are a forensic anthropologist who assists the FBI in numerous cases. Because of that and your personal history, I'm going to assume that you are in your chosen profession because you are trying to find the truth, trying to find answers for the victims and give their families some peace. I became a profiler because I'm good at what I do and I knew I could help catch the bad guys, hopefully before anyone else has to end up on your table as a pile of bones."

She rose from her chair, her cheeks flushed.

"You're not the only one looking for answers, Doctor Brennan. If you don't respect my profession, fine. I can understand that. But at least respect me, my colleagues and what it is we're trying to achieve. We want the truth, same as you."

Katie brushed down her suit as she straightened up, giving the group a curt nod goodbye.

"There are a number of arrangements that need to be made before your lecture tomorrow, Doctor Brennan, so if you'll excuse me."

She marched away, leaving Booth looking torn as to whether or not he should go after her. After a few moments, he turned his gaze back on to his partner.

"Nice going, Bones. Why not alienate every single person in the FBI while you're here?"

He rose from his chair, jogging after Katie's retreating back. Brennan tried to avoid Angela's exasperated stare as she threw down her fork, arms folded across her chest.

"I hate psychology."

A/N: Don't worry, there's plenty of angst and dead bodies in the next chapter so please stick with it. And don't forget, I need you to review or I have no reason to live and do you really want that on your conscience…?