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I don't own Bones.

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The roads plowed, the power grid back on, the city started to come back to life. Booth had driven Brennan home and they'd both spent the next day at home, waiting for the generator to be fixed at the Jeffersonian.

Two days later, the generator fixed and every one back at work, Brennan was surprised to see Agent Morris Harris enter the Lab followed by two agents wheeling a gurney between them. Not sure what was going on, she stood outside her office and waited to see what Harris was up to.

Booth, spying Harris when he stopped in his doorway, stood up and advanced across the room, "Hey, what's up?"

Glancing at the gurney, Harris frowned, "I need Cam to look over a body for me."

Not surprised, Booth pointed down the hallway, "Okay, take the body to the Autopsy room and I'll let Bones and Cam know they're needed."

Shaking his head, Harris held up his hand, "I need you and Temperance to stay away from the body. I just want Cam and if he's needed, Clark to look at the body."

Curious, Booth glanced at the body bag, "What do you mean? Who's in the bag?"

Watching Booth for his reaction, the agent informed him, "Jacob Brodsky."

Not reacting, Booth nodded his head, "Fine." Turning, he walked back to his desk and sat down ignoring the probing look being directed towards him by his friend.

Harris, not sure if he should be concerned by Booth's lack of reaction, turned, waved his men to go to the Autopsy room and then marched over to where Cam's office was. Entering the room, he stopped and cleared his throat, "Cam I have a job for you."

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Leaning against the open doorway, Lester watched Cam as she performed her autopsy, "So, I heard that you're doing the autopsy of Jacob Brodsky."

Studying the dead man's neck, Cam remarked, "It would appear so."

Curious, Lester folded his arms across his chest, "Was he murdered?"

Making an incision across the late Brodsky's neck, Cam carefully moved the flesh aside, "I had Vincent take a lot of pictures of the body before I started. I want to make sure that everything is done by the book on this one."

Unaffected by the slicing going on, Lester watched her closely as she studied the dead man's neck. "I think Harris is worried that Booth killed Brodsky."

Carefully moving the flesh aside, Cam studied the hyoid. "Yes, I know."

His face an unemotional mask, Lester remarked, "Booth can account for his time. No way he killed this man. Besides, the weather has been pretty damn cold the last couple of weeks and I don't see him stalking a paid assassin in the woods. He couldn't do it. Not in these temperatures."

Her hand moving a magnifier over the neck, Cam continued to study that portion of the body, "No, Booth's health is fairly good, but he can't handle very cold air. He can't breathe properly."

Watching Cam move the magnifier from the neck, she bit her lower lip and leaned against the table. "His neck is broken."

Moving away from the doorway, Lester moved a few feet into the room, "So . . . so what?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Cam pointed at the various bruises on the dead man's body and then lifted his hands, "He was in a fight before he died. He has defensive wounds on his body, so it was a pretty serious attack. He was wearing a coat and long johns so that would have protected his body from some bruising, but you can see bruises on his hands and his left thigh. He also has a large bruise on his lower back. Whoever he fought with used their feet. . . . Brodsky was in peak health, a large man, a former Ranger . . . . He didn't leave this life easily."

Cautiously, Lester ventured, "He was murdered?"

Placing her scalpel down on the tray next to the body, Cam sighed, "He died of a broken neck that he sustained from a fall."

Surprised, Lester frowned, "Are you sure he was in a fight? How do you know he didn't get all those bruises from the fall?"

Her gaze moving to the younger man, Cam smiled, "Because I'm one of the best coroner's on the east coast."

Not sure what Cam was going to do, Lester asked, "Maybe whoever he was fighting with threw him down the waterfall. How would you know?"

Leaning against the counter behind her, Cam studied Lester very intently, "Are you trying to get me to say he was murdered? The coroner that did the original autopsy declared it was a death by misadventure."

A laugh escaping him, Lester shook his head, "I'm not trying to get you to do anything. I'm just asking questions, that's all."

A smirk on her face, Cam sniffed, "I know exactly what you're doing and I think I know why." Holding up her gloved hand, Cam snapped, "Lester, please don't say anything else. Please go back to work and let me do my job."

Shrugging his shoulders, Lester responded, "Sure Doc. Whatever you say."

Her eyes following him out of the room, Cam shook her head and resumed the autopsy.

Ooooooooooooooooo

The autopsy complete, Cam forwarded the information to the Hoover and waited for a reaction. It didn't take long.

Arriving at the Lab, Harris marched over to Cam's office and barged into her room, "You're telling me he died from a fall?"

Closing the file she'd been working on, Cam turned her chair to face the FBI Agent, "Yes."

"But the bruises on his body. . . He was in a fight before he died." Glaring at the coroner, Harris insisted, "He was in a fight that's what the other coroner said."

"Yes he was, but the majority of the bruises on his body were probably sustained in the fall. The fall that broke his neck."

Irritated, Harris moved over to the chair near her desk and sat down, "He was attacked. Whoever attacked him fought with him, got the upper hand somehow and threw Brodsky over the waterfall where the man died of a broken neck . . . manslaughter or second degree murder."

Her disdain evident, Cam shrugged her shoulders, "I gave you my findings, Morris. He died of a fall. He was in a fight, but there is no evidence to prove it wasn't done before the fall. He could have got into a fight with someone, hiked out to the waterfall and filled with remorse for murdering people, threw himself off over the cliff to the waterfall below."

Snorting, Harris disagreed, "Or he died while fighting someone at the waterfall and was thrown over the cliff."

Her lips thin with disapproval, Cam shook her head, "It could be either case, Morris. If you don't like my findings, have someone else do an autopsy. You have two coroners who have declared it a death by misadventure, but by all means bring in another coroner. If you ever go to trial the defense lawyer will have a field day pointing out that you kept having Brodsky's body looked over until you got the results you wanted."

Outraged, Harris stood up, "Damn it Cam." Stalking over to the doorway, he grabbed the door and pulled it shut. Turning to face her, he growled, "Who do you suspect? Do you suspect Booth did this?"

Calmly, Cam retorted, "How can I think anyone did this when Brodsky died from a fall?"

"If Brodsky was in a fight, wouldn't his assailant be bruised too?" Curious, Harris waited to hear what Cam said.

Thinking it over, she nodded her head, "Brodsky was a big man. Whoever he fought with probably has at least a few bruises on his body. It's logical to think so. Still . . . that only would prove that someone fought with Brodsky, not that they murdered him."

His anger growing, Harris shook his head, "Thanks for your help Dr. Saroyan."

Amused at Harris's scathing retort, Cam smiled, "You're welcome Special Agent Harris."

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Entering Booth's office, Harris closed the door behind him, "I can get a warrant, but I hope I don't need it."

Surprised, Booth stood up, "What for?"

His hands on his hips, Harris ordered, "Take off your jacket, shirt and pants."

Curious, Booth asked his friend, "What the hell for?"

Angry that he was being forced to check on Booth, Harris growled, "Brodsky was in a fight shortly before he died. His assailant had to have taken some hits from Brodsky before he died."

"So you're looking for someone with bruises?" Deciding that he'd cooperate, Booth removed his jacket and placed it on his desk. Next he removed his tie and placed it on his jacket. Checking to make sure no one was standing in front of the glass wall on the left side of the door, Booth removed his shirt, t-shirt and pants and placed them on the desk. Moving to the side of his desk, he held his arms up, slowly turned where he was standing and then stopped when he was facing Harris again. "See anything you like?"

A blush tinting his cheeks, Harris declared, "Okay smartass, you can put your clothes back on." Watching Booth put his pants and t-shirt back on and then his shirt and tie, the Agent marveled, "You're pretty cool, you know. You didn't bat an eyelash, you just stripped."

Shrugging his jacket back on, Booth confessed, "I know you think I killed Brodsky. I'm not stupid." Sitting back down, Booth folded his hands on his desk, "I didn't kill him. I don't know who did and I'm not going to worry about it. I don't work for the FBI anymore . . . Now, if you don't mind I have work to do Agent Harris."

Feeling like shit, Harris held out his hand, "Booth . . ."

"Leave now, Agent Harris," Turning to face his PC, Booth added, "Close the door on your way out."

Once Harris left, Booth leaned back against his chair and sighed.

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