Spoilers: Hehe, I just made my dad and me mini-pizzas for lunch. SO good.

Disclaimer: It may seem like this is a crossover at first, but I assure you, it's not. Definitely not. And I think I may have just drunk my fifth coffee of the day. Oops.

Author's note: Seriously, I may as well just abandon 'Spoilers' and 'Disclaimer'. I just use them for extra Author's Notes. And hence my own amusement. Wow, this'll make my notes seriously epic…

Okay, so I was doing my English homework (character sketches joy) but I don't know where my English book is. Chances are my teacher has it. So I started using a pad that is attached to a folder. But the folder is like five years old, and I use it every day. So, of course, I had to glue it back together. So now I'm waiting for the glue to dry.

…It should take about as long as it takes me to write this…

Booth blew out an impatient breath as he flicked a pen into the air. "So. You gunna be done anytime soon?" he asked hopefully, raising his eyebrows. Rolling her eyes, Brennan turned to him with a sigh. He was looking at her like a child who wants another cookie.

"Why are you so impatient today?" she snapped.

"Why are you so grumpy today?" he countered, proud of his comeback. Brennan, however, was not.

"I'm not grumpy, Booth. You're just irritating me. You should know by now that I take my time when I work," she informed him, her fists moving to her hips as if she were preparing to get physical.

Booth held up his hands more out of hopelessness than surrender. "I know, I know. It's just… I really want to catch this guy, Bones," he admitted, his mood changing from playful and teasing to almost pathetic.

Brennan opened her mouth to chastise him, but stopped when she saw the vulnerability in his face. Instead, she closed her mouth and nodded slightly before turning back to the remains on the table.

Booth smiled a little and nodded at her back, almost proud.

Both went back to their silent tasks. Brennan glared at a very guilty looking Booth as a pen flew across the platform.

"Huh."

"'Huh'? What, 'huh'?"

"It appears…" She frowned slightly.

"What, Bones? Help me out, here…" Booth prodded, standing up straighter.

"It appears… as if…" Still frowning, she looked from the remains to Booth. "It appears that someone thrust a wooden stake through this little girl's heart," she said slowly. Booth's eyes widened.

"As in, Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, staked?" Booth asked, dumbfounded.

"I don't know what that means," she said automatically. "But I think the answer is yes."

They stared at each other, both lost in their own thoughts as the information sunk in.

"Either this guy's delusional, or just really twisted," Booth finally decided. Brennan frowned at him.

"What killer isn't twisted?"

"What makes you think there's another?" Brennan asked as the black van sped through the nearly-deserted streets.

"Anonymous tip," Booth said unhappily. Anonymous tips were rarely useful, and even if they were, it wasn't much good when your informant didn't have an identity. Half of them were crack-heads as it were.

"Do you know where it came from?" she asked absent-mindedly, flipping through the FBI report. Booth shot her a look.

"No, Bones. If we did it wouldn't be anonymous," he said slowly. She looked up and blinked a few times.

"Oh." There was silence for a few minutes. "Turn left," Brennan instructed without looking up from the manila folder in her lap. Booth glared at her as he turned, but didn't say anything.

"Yup. That'll be it," Booth sighed as they pulled into a makeshift parking lot cordoned off by crime scene tape. The blue-and-red lights from the cruisers weren't the subtlest of markers.

Brennan jumped out of the van before Booth had even stopped the engine. He rolled his eyes and followed her, taking out his badge in preparation. He was glad he had as he came upon Brennan and a uniformed officer.

"Ma'am, you can't go past the tape," he informed her unceremoniously, blocking her path with his arm. She glared at him and grabbed his arm. Booth began to run.

"Hey! Whoa, whoa, Bones." Brennan tightened her grip on the man's arm before letting it drop. He tried not to flinch but failed. Brennan regarded the officer with distaste as Booth flashed his badge, trying not to laugh; the officer was trying to rub his arm covertly. Booth introduced himself and Brennan.

"Go ahead, Agent Booth," he said icily. This was not a good night.

Booth grinned at him, pushing lightly on Brennan's back so she didn't stay behind to deck the officer. Once they were out of earshot, the officer twitched.

"Damn Squint," he hissed.

"Hey! You Seeley Booth?" someone called from the back of an SUV about ten feet away. Booth and Brennan turned to see a woman in an FBI jacket and a large, drooling German shepherd.

Booth pulled a face as Brennan almost ran to the dog and began petting it. She faced the trainer and spoke tersely. "Where's Tudy?"

Booth groaned and earned a glare from Brennan. The trainer ignored Booth's groan. "He's gone to Montreal for the week," the trainer replied, attempting friendliness. Brennan was still annoyed at the officer, though, and she was not finished venting.

"Why? What the hell's in Montreal?" she demanded. Booth took this as his cue, and stepped deliberately between a standing Brennan and the seated trainer.

"O-kay, Bones. Time out," he said, holding up a hand. He waited for her to look a little less like she wished she had a gun. Or nun-chucks. "You know, he can sense when you're grumpy, Bones."

Brennan wanted the nun-chucks again. "He cannot 'sense' anything, Booth. He is a dog. And he is a she," she added. Booth almost laughed at the seriousness of her tone compared to the hilarity of her last statement.

"Oh, come on! It's a well known fact that dogs can sense our emotions," he said, shrugging. He regarded the dog in much the same way Brennan had the officer. "Even if they do drool a lot."

"Dogs do not sense emotions!" The dog looked at her, cocking its head and whimpering. "And I am not grumpy!" The dog's head went to the floor, but it remained regarding her pathetically. Brennan huffed. "Can we just begin?"

With that, she stormed off to gather her things. Booth turned to the trainer.

"Yes. I'm Seeley Booth," he answered finally. "And that-" he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, "- is my partner, Doctor Temperance Brennan."

The trainer smiled wryly. "Lucky you." Both couldn't decide whether to laugh or defend his partner. "I'm Gillian O'Toole." She offered her hand, and Booth shook it.

"So? We going to do this?" Booth asked, offering her a full Charm Smile. Gillian O'Toole almost blushed.

Brennan had been sitting on the ground for three hours, now. From the time the dog had barked, she had put everything but the task ahead of her into the back of her mind.

She didn't recall the sun rising. She didn't notice the dog lazing in the newfound sun, chewing a squeaking toy, or the small glances Gillian O'Toole kept sending in Booth's direction. Or the officer behind her, staring at her butt as she crouched with her trowel.

Booth, however, noticed.

"Hey, buddy, this is a crime scene, and she is a world-respected anthropologist. Have some respect, before I arrest you." Booth took a second glance at Brennan. "Or tell her you were sizing her up."

Booth flashed his eyebrows as a genuine flicker of panic lit the officer's eyes. Booth smiled kindly. "Now run along."

The officer fumed, then turned on his heel and stormed away. Booth chuckled to himself as he undid a button of his shirt against the heat.

He turned to Brennan, who was now staring at the newly uncovered remains, hands free of tools. He had to admit: he knew why the officer had been staring.

For the first time since she had begun, Brennan looked up, rolling her shoulders.

"Booth, could you come here for a minute?" she asked nonchalantly, her eyes back on the bones in front of her.

"Whatcha got for me, Bones?" Booth asked enthusiastically. Brennan didn't look up.

"Can you just pull my hair back for me? I can't see too well, and I can't pull it back with these gloves on." She held up her hands momentarily before returning them to the right femur as if to prove that she was, indeed, wearing gloves.

Booth's shoulders slumped a little, disappointed that she didn't have anything to tell him yet. But he did as he was told, and maneuvered himself awkwardly around her to grab her hair as she continued to move.

"Can you just be still for a minute?" he huffed. Brennan stopped her movement just long enough for Booth to grasp the hair that had fallen out of her ponytail. Her movement stopped for a little too long as his fingers brushed her neck. Booth noticed, and decided to speak over it.

"I've held women's hair back at crime scenes before, but never because they wanted to get closer to the dead guy," Booth pointed out amusedly as he pulled the band from her hair. Brennan laughed silently, oddly flattered. As he finished tying her hair and thanking God for his female cousins, he leaned forward so his chin rested on her shoulder. "One of a kind, Bones."

He pulled away, not missing Brennan's eye roll. He smirked to himself and shook his head in wonder.

After another ten minutes, Brennan stood up. All eyes turned to her, with the exception of the officer, whose eyes flicked to Booth's then to the ground at his feet.

"I can't tell you conclusively, but it looks like the same manner of death as the girl from upstate."

Booth closed his eyes and blew out a huge breath.

O'Toole pushed off from the tree she'd been leaning against for the better part of an hour. "And what's that?"

"A wooden stake was thrust through her heart," Brennan said, her mind already somewhere else. O'Toole's eyebrow shot up.

"As in, Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, stake through the heart?" She whistled through her teeth.

"Would everyone please stop saying that? It's not helping me or the investigation," Brennan scolded, annoyed at not understanding the same reference twice. O'Toole's hands went up, as the dog whined to Brennan again. Brennan, annoyed with the dog, turned to the nearest person who didn't make pop-references and hadn't nearly earned an ass-kicking.

"I'd like the remains removed and sent to the Jeffersonian A.S.A.P."

The boy she had spoken to nodded and moved off to find the rest of his team.

Brennan looked at Booth, whose expression mirrored her own.

"You think there are any more?" Booth asked finally. Brennan turned around to survey the expanse behind her. It was flat to the horizon.

Chapter story in the making?