Disclaimer: Hahahahahahahahahahah,

No.

After their flights both sets of government agents were jet lagged, tired, and everyone had consumed questionably large amounts of asprin. Ziva, possibly a little more so than everyone else do to being trapped in a seat directly between Tony and McGee. Gibbs had kicked back and slept the whole time while Tony jabbered about movies and McGee used tech speak. Ziva had barely understood two words of either, and then they had begun to bicker.

Booth and Bones had spent nearly the entire flight debating weather or not their was a logical reason that convicted felons couldn't run for president if they had a logical plan and suitably high IQ. Guess who was on which side.

Booth and Bones had arrived a little while before the NCIS team and so arrived at the hotel earlier. "Do we each gt seperate rooms? I didn't think it was the sort of thing the government would pay for." Bones asked when booth returned and handed her a key card with a different room number from his.

Booth shook his head, "No, we're sharing with agents from NCIS. You are sharing with an Agent Ziva David and I'm with an Agent Anthony DiNozzo." Booth shuddered very breifly. "God I hope he doesn't snore. If he does I may end up shooting him and I have a feeling the marine core would really not appreciate that."

"No, they would not appreciate that. In fact the marine core would most likely become very angry with both you, and the FBI if you were to shoot an NCIS agent," Bones said. She felt happy that she had been able to contribute to Booth's thought process.

Booth thought about telling her that he had been kidding but decided it wasn't worth the time and simply rolled his eyes instead. "Yeah, so anyway, the agents from NCIS aren't here yet so I'm going to go utilize the shower in my room to try and take the edge off of this headache."

He started to leave when Bones called, "What a headache? Are you sure it's just a headache? You don't have another brain tumor or anything do you?"

He sighed, "No Bones. Just a headache. Trust me I know the difference." he stepped into the elevator.

Bones was a little worried so she followed him to the elevator, "Okay, well, if you begin to see the ghosts of dead freinds please inform me immediately so we can check you into the hospital."

Booth gave a wave to show he had heard and then the elevator dinged shut.

Bones stayed in the lobby for a while trying to map everything out. It was a fairly nice hotel. Marble, and polished wood. She had been there for about ten minutes when she heard the familiar sounds of bickering.

"The Italian Job was hands down the best movie of all time-" Said a tall man with a huge croaked grin and vaugely Italian features.

"So if we back route the digital serving matrix to-" Said a short man with a boyish face.

"ShutupShutupShutupShutupShut upShutupShutupShutup!" Said a slight woman with an Israeli accent.

"Charming world class theif Charlie Croaker goes up against his former freind turned traitor nemesis-"

"Trace the call back to it's origination point-"

"You two are both with in seconds of dying in a slow, painful manner."

"Everybody shut the hell up so I can get our room keys!" said an older man with grey hair and a marine haircut. He rubbed his forehead like he had a headache and muttered, "Jesus Christ I feel like a middle-school teacher."

He retrieved the room keys and handed them out to their respective owners. "McGee, your with me. DiNozzo your rooming with the FBI agent. Ziva your with the Forensic Anthropologist."

"Me." Bones interjected.

All three agents spun on the spot. Their hands all reached for their government issued fire arms. "Who are you?" Tony, McGee, Gibbs, and ZIva, all asked at once.

"I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan. I'm a forensic anthropologist at the Jeffersonian Institution. I'm the best in the world. It's very nice to meet you all." She stuck out her hand. Tony recpvered first and shook the out stretched hand, introducing himeselfe. The others followed suite until everyone was aquainted.

Only Gibbs held back. "Where's the agent you work with? Seeley Booth?"

"Right here." Booth's voice said from behind Gibbs. Everyone jumped about six feet and truned to look at him. His hair was still wet from the shower and he looked like his headache had at least been relieved if not cured completely.

McGee stuttered for a moment, "You- how did you-"

"Sneek up behind you guys and make you squeal like a little girl?" he asked cocking an eyebrow. "Sniper training. They teach you how to walk really, really, quietly." he turned to Bones. "You going to be okay here for a while?"

She nodded. "Where are you going?"

"Firing range. There's one about a ten minute drive from here."

"Okay have a good time."

"I plan on it. Remember to call me if anything happens."

She rolled her eyes. "I believe the commonly used phrase here is, Duh!"

"Good work Bones! You used accurate slang with no help from me." Booth said as he headed for the doors. "Later all!" he called backwards over his shoulder.

Gibbs left too muttering about finding coffee.

Tony, Ziva, and McGee were all in shock.

Tony reclaimed his voice and said. "I can't believe what just happened."

Ziva was confused. "What happened."

"Someone sneaked up on Gibbs without him realizing it right when Gibbs was in the middle of talking about them. That's never happened before in living Gibbs memory." Tony was working up to a point now. "I mean someone snuck up on Gibbs. Gibbs just got Gibbed!"

The three agents tried to processed this statement. It didn't go so well.

Booth stood at the fireing line and prepared to shoot. The fireing range was almost deserted, their were only two other people there who had been present when he arrived.

One of the people was a tall man wearing a pair of designer slacks, a suite jacket, nice shoes, and a neatly starched blue dress shirt. It didn't look like the typical outfit for a day at the firing range but weirder things had happened. He looked about six one, and he looked slight, but he stood with military posture and he held the gun like he knew how to use it. He was tanned and he spoke like a Miami native.

The other person was a tiny auburn haired woman who looked like the recoil from her gun could shatter every bone in her arm. But she still stood fireing off like a professional. The two of them talked almost like they were on a date, not practicing to be able to kill someone.

The last shots were fired and Booth watched the couple real in the targets and examine the results. He felt kind of curious about how their accuracy would prove. Neither one of them dressed like a practiced shooter.

The man proved to be more accurate. "One more time Michael! Please!"

"No Fi! Iv'e won two times out of three that was our tie breaker remember?"

"Best three out of five then." The woman retorted.

Michael sighed. "Not now Fi. Why don't you go get the food from the car? We can have a nice lunch."

Fiona huffed but went to retrieve the food.

Michael let out a long breath and rolled his neck to relieve the tension. Booth chuckled, "I know how you feel. I just got of a plane, and I was sitting with a scientist the whole way. What's your headache from."

"My girlfreind." Michael answered. "I love her, I'd killed for her, I'd die for her. I just wish she was a little less energetic sometimes."

"I know that feeling. My names Booth."

"Michael."

"Nice to meet you. Are you from around here? I need to find a good bar." In reality Booth just wanted to keep Michael talking if he could. he was curious about the amount of certanty this man had been able to put into his previous statement.

Michael's face closed down as he took in the other man's neat suite, government fire arm, and shiny shoes, his brain started screaming FED FED FED! "No I grew up here but no. I don't know a good bar. Sorry."

Just then Fiona entered. "Michael I brought the lunch."

Michael made his face brighten again, "Great Fi! Why don't we eat it on the beach?" he then began pulling her from the building.

"Michael!"

"Later." he hissed.

"Fine, but Michael Westen I swear to you if you don't answere every single one of my questions later their will be hell to pay!" were the last words Booth heard as the couple left the building.

Well now I have a name to check out at least. Booth thought. Michael Westen. It was worth checking out.

A/N: Well? What do you think? I kind of need to know here!