Title: Take It, Don't Ask
Pairing: Booth & Brennan
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: I'll give you a roll of barbwire, a vine for this modern epoch.
The medical examiner stared at the skeleton, for who knew how long, then turned his glare to Booth. "I'm not psychic, you know."
"I know you're not psychic," Booth replied.
"I gave you the sex, the ethnicity, the height and probable weight, and the cause of death." The ME folded his arms. "What else do you want?"
"The ID." Booth slapped the file against his left hand. "I need an ID."
"She had an unremarkable broken leg when she was young, and she had an unremarkable dental profile," the ME said. "If you want more, you can't get it from me."
"So, what?" Booth asked. "Are you actually recommending a psychic?"
The ME glanced at the skeleton again. "A forensic anthropologist," he said.
"I don't know what that means," Booth replied.
The forensic anthropologist was pretty. He wasn't supposed to notice that, so he slid the file across the table and raised his eyebrows. "They told me you're some kind of psychic."
"I'm a scientist, Agent Booth." Dr. Brennan flipped the file open and fanned the photos out. "Your victim was female. Young. She never bore a child." She spun the photo around. "Hispanic. Delicate features. She broke her leg when she was young."
"Yeah," Booth interrupted, "our ME already told us that--"
"Maybe five or six." She leaned closer to one photo, squinting. "The fracture indicates it was from falling from a short distance, eight or ten feet. She was probably climbing a tree."
"The fracture indicates--" Booth stepped forward. "What?"
Dr. Brennan slid one photo towards him. "She was left-handed, and she probably lifted weights on a regular basis."
"That's what you get from three photos?" Booth asked.
"I need to see the remains if you want more detail," she said. "I can confirm the victim was stabbed repeatedly, probably with a hunting knife. How soon can you have the remains sent over?"
"I can get it done this morning," Booth said. He shuffled the photos back into the file.
"It would expedite matters if you came to the Jeffersonian in the future," Dr. Brennan told him as she stood. "You can call my assistant to make an appointment."
Booth stared at the ceiling and counted to ten, so he didn't manage to watch her walk out of the room.
The next day, Booth had to drive back to the crime scene to meet Agent Simmons, so Dr. Brennan called him an update.
"It would be better," she told him, "if I could examine the crime scene myself."
"Are you an FBI analyst?" Booth asked.
"Technically, I'm analyzing something for the FBI--"
"Are you a medical examiner?" Booth interrupted
"Then you can't examine the crime scene," he said.
"Because I said so," Booth clipped out.
"You enjoy asserting your alpha male status over other professionals, don't you?"
"No, I'm trying to explain--" Booth paused. "What did you call me?"
"It's a behavior typical of law enforcement agents," she said. "They tried to warn me, but--"
"Look," Booth said, "if I find anything that might be important, I'll let you know."
"I faxed the victim's ID to your office," she said.
"What?" Booth stopped surveying the scene. He clenched his fists, then breathed deeply. "You probably should have told me that first."
"There might be more information pertinent to the--"
"Look," he said. "I appreciate your help. I'll call you if anything new pops up."
"I think it would be a good idea if I could go out--"
"No," Booth said. "Thanks, Bones. Talk to you later."
"What did you call me?"
He hung up. He took a breath, then punched the air. "We've got an ID," he announced, and while Agent Simmons called headquarters, Booth went back to work.
A/N: Title and summary adapted from Tran Da Tu's Love Tokens.