"Some Producer"

*Trigger warning*

Brennan and Chelsea had surely been through alot of tough things these past few cases. The point of the matter is they still had each other through thick and thin. They had managed to piss a lot of people off along the way. Creating enemies isn't something Cheslea had ever seen herself doing.

She was learning how to evolve, how to communicate better with people, not saying she didn't do it well, she use to be a teacher, talking to children takes a whole lot of patience, patience that some people just didn't have, nonetheless Chelsea and Booth's relationship was a constant state of enemies who put up with each other because they have too and not because they want too.

Not to mention Chelsea's life was a complete and utter shit show, she had crazy family drama, too crazy for her to tell anyone to let them know. That and being plagued with diabetes didn't help her case either, she had type one diabetes, which was serious, she found out about it when she was ten, life for her seemed difficult from that moment further, then her parents vanished five years later leaving her with her older sister, Melanie. They didn't have the best relationship and soon Melanie left Chelsea alone by herself after she turned seventeen. Of course things were never the same I mean sure, she tried to contact her family and of course things were different now. But she would always love them.

Maybe that's why she kept Brennan so close, her fear of losing the only person she truly cared about was nerve wracking. But if she were to ever lose her, well lets just say the world might actually feel her pain. And it wouldn't be a pretty sight.

Chelsea had just got done looking over fifteen hundred year old remains that Dr. Goodman brought in from the bottom of a shaft that a few miners were digging up on. She walks into her office to find Booth sitting in her desk chair with a very cheerful smile gracing his face. Her face immediately shifts to annoyance as she walks toward him.

"I need a receptionist. I can't just have anybody waltzing in here."

" Take a look at this." Holds up photos of a map.

Chelsea takes the photos from Booth. "A bunch of red circles?"

"Each circle shows were a body part was found." Booth beams cheerfully.

"What is this, an airport?" She squints looking at the photo a bit closer.

"Los Angeles International. Local pathologist says the remains are in pretty bad shape."

" So he punted it to the FBI."

"Airports, they fall under Federal jurisdiction. Excellent use of the word punt." He quirks a brow at her giving her a have hearted smile.

"I can't go to Los Angeles. I have an Iron Age warrior to authenticate. Bre Bre is doing a book tour for our book and won't be back for six months. Which means I am the only anthropologist in charge."

" Iron Age warrior, when was the Iron Age?" Booth jokes as Chelsea rolls her eyes.

"Fifteen hundred years ago."

"Fresh body bits are just a little more urgent."

" You do realize there are a lot more fresh bodies than there are perfect specimens from the Iron Age?" She quirks a brow at him as Booth straightens up in his seat.

"You know, when you say things like that it's just to bug me, right?"

The two partners find themselves in Goodman's office. He is seated at his desk and across from him Chelsea and Booth are arguing.

" Do we have to go through this every time?"

" Exactly."

"Booth can't just walk in and say" Chelsea smacks her hands together. " pack your bags we're going to LA."

" Oh, yeah, yeah, the whole Ice Age warrior thing."

Dr. Goodman and Chelsea. "Iron Age." Correct Booth.

" And that's not the only thing. Homeland Security has just asked Dr. Swan to identify three bodies found dead in...I'm not allowed to say. The point is Agent Booth, Dr. Swan is in great demand especially with Dr. Brennan being gone for six months. Several pressing cases and she's needed here at the museum. Why should I send her to California?"

"Sexy case in Hollywood. How much more good press could the Jeffersonian get?" Dr. Goodman folds his hands on his desk and leans forward. His interest has peaked.

"But, Dr. Goodman, you said the Iron Age warrior was of the highest priority."

" I can step in on that case. You pack your bags."

Chelsea just groaned she wanted nothing more than to strangle Booth with her bare hands.

🦋

The partners are sunny street lined with palm trees. Booth, wearing sunglasses and a content smile, is driving a black convertible mustang. Cheslea is riding shotgun and she is batting Booth.

"This car doesn't feel very FBI-y."

" Cherry. This is a nineteen sixty-six Mustang. It's a classic and what goes better than that with the FBI?"

"How come ot the rental agreement under model you made the guy write sedan?" Chelsea quirks a brow at him as he scoffs.

"C'mon. We're in California." Puts his arm around her shoulders. "Look at the palm trees."

"You know I'd like to drive sometimes." Chelsea shrugs Booth's arm off her shoulder.

" Look, our contact out here is Special Agent Trisha Finn."

" I'm an excellent driver."

"Okay, Rain Man."

Chelsea scoffs. "Yeah okay Magoo."

" I'm always gonna drive. You know that, right? Me behind the wheel; you over there on the grandma side."

"I'm not above telling Deputy Director Cullen what kind of car you rented." Booth just looks at Chelsea and before long Chelsea is driving and Booth is pouting in the passenger seat.

The two partners find themselves at a California desert airport. A plane is flying overhead and Chelsea and Booth are standing near the crime scene with agent Trisha Finn, a young blonde agent.

"Agent Finn, why was the body removed from the crime scene?"

"Call me Trisha, Dr. Swan. The body was removed because parts were visible to arriving flights." Trisha hands her a map of the crime scene. "Here's a map of the crime scene with a legend. Now there's a marked cone at the location of each body part and each photograph corresponds to a cone."

" This is not a dismemberment." Chelsea continues.

"Okay, are you sure Cherry? I mean this is Los Angeles. You know, they're showy."

"Is it possible that the body parts were ground up in a landing gear then dumped when the airplane landed?" Trisha asks as Chelsea continues to look at the file in her hands.

"The dispersal rate is wrong. It looks to me like the body was pulled apart by a pack of dogs."

"More likely Coyotes."

" Coyotes at the airport?" Chelsea furrows her brows.

"We got Coyotes everywhere."

" Did you know that?" Chelsea turns to Booth.

" No, I thought Coyotes were a cowboy thing." Booth pulls his sunglasses over his face.

" I'd like to see the remains now." She nods as they lead her to a white room with an examining table, where the remains are. Chelsea, Booth, and Agent Finn stand around it. Agent Finn looks slightly sick.

"I need all the dirt, silt, bits and pieces collected with the body parts sent back to the Jeffersonian immediately."

"You know what I like, when there's no flesh on the bones. Just a personal preference." Booth mutters as Chelsea ignores him.

She picks up an arm and studies it. " There's not much left anyway."

" Eww. Dr. Swan as a screenplay writer myself I'd be happy to help you in any way I can with regard to your movie."

"Excuse me?"

"Someone told me they're thinking of making you and Dr. Brennan's book into a movie." Chelsea just stays quiet still examining the remains.

"Say something Cherry."

"Well, all I know is I'm supposed to meet some big movie producer while I'm here, if I have time, which I probably won't. Does the pathologist need any further access to the remaining soft tissue?"

"Uh, no. He got everything out of it he could. So my own screenplay is about this FBI agent who finds herself on the trail of a former boyfriend..." Chelsea tears what is left of the skin from the skull."Oh, uh, God."

" It's okay if you have to leave." Booth reassures Trisha who walks away as quickly as she can. Her hand covers her mouth and she makes groaning noises.

Chelsea holds up the skull and studies it much closer then she studies the arm. " This is not good."

"Yeah thanks for that insight."

"No, I mean the architecture of the skull has been radically altered."

" You mean by rotting and being eaten by coyotes and having the face ripped off by you?"

"No, by surgery...lots of surgery. I'm not sure I'll be able to tell who this was."

A large screen is now placed in the center of the lab in California. The screen shows Angela's office at the Jeffersonian and Zack Addy can be seen on screen. Chelsea is speaking to Zack and studying the remains. It's the next day.

"Are you getting the feed Zack?"

Zack pops into view on the computer screen. " Yes, Dr. Swan. I'm looking at the x-rays you beamed to me."

" I'm going to have the bones cleaned, but there are still vestiges of flesh."

"Hodgins got the clothing remnants and silt this morning." Zack explains as Chelsea nods.

"Are you there, Ange?" Angela pulls Zack out of the way and sits down. Which causes Chelsea to chuckle a bit.

" Is it sunny sweetie? Tell me it's sunny."

" It's sunny. I sent you the entire skull."

"You want a reconstruction?"

Chelsea nods. "If you can."

" If I can? Have I ever failed you?" Angela smirks.

"This one's different. You'll see what I mean when you get it. Zack?"

Zack Appears on screen. "Here, Dr. Swan."

" I make this out to be a young woman."

"Early twenties from the look at the x-rays."

" Cause of death?"

" I see evidence of stabbing. One hit to the sternum, two to the costal cartilages."

" Estimated time of death?" Angela pushes her chair closer to the computer so she is visible next to Zack on screen.

"Degradation of the remains suggests the body was left out in the open between a week and ten days and the marks on the bones suggest carnivorous feeding beyond insects, birds, and rodents."

" Coyotes." Chelsea notes.

"They have coyotes?" Zack furrows his brows.

"Yes."

"That explains the dispersal of remains. A pack of coyotes finds the body, pulls it apart, and spreads out to eat in solitude."

"The teeth are veneered."

"The jaw has been broken and reset, same with the right leg. Have you seen any movie stars yet?"

Chelsea makes a face. "No, why?"

"Apparently, it's a contest when you go to LA in which the winner is the person who sees the most celebrities." Zack exits the screen and Angela takes his place in the center of the screen.

"You have a whole skull, right?"

"Yes."

"So why is this going to be so difficult?" Angela purses her lips eyes drawn solely on Chelsea.

" You'll see. Ange On the Iron Age project, Goodman does this thing; Hodgins isn't going to like it."

"What thing?" Angela sits up and her interest is now peaked.

" He theorizes in a way. It sounds like he's making stuff up. It's hard to explain but it's going to irritate Hodgins."

" Honey, you're in California. Forget the Iron Age. Say these words, 'Sky Bar'. Go there tonight; tell me everything." Zack swings the camera to him and puts his face up to it.

"Dr. Swan, one of these x-rays shows two dark clumps near the pelvis"

Chelsea puts on gloves to have a look. "Behind what's left of the spleen."

Booth enters. "I got a list of missing persons, women in their early twenties." He sees Chelsea rip something out of the body. "Oh boy do I really have to be here for this part?"

"Do you think she swallowed that?"

"Could be because she was a drug mule." Booth speaks up as Chelsea examines it further.

She holds what looks like a round gel pack in her hand. " It's an implant, breast implant."

" Those come with serial numbers." Booth notes as Chelsea nods.

"We should be able to identify our victim in a couple of hours."

🍒

Cheslea and Booth were at her hotel sitting on the rooftop where the pool is which was surrounded by alf naked women in bikinis Chelsea and Booth are standing against the rail at the far end of the roof. They are discussing the case, but Booth keeps coming back to how lavish a hotel Chelsea Gets to stay in.

"My hotel doesn't even have a pool."

"Well, you're welcome to use mine." Chelsea replies not even looking up from the file in her hands.

"Well, the breast implant lead went nowhere." Finn appears next to the pair.

" What about the serial numbers?" Chelsea asks, still not taking her eyes off the file.

" Uh, the implants were reported stolen six months ago. Our victim must have gotten them off the black market."

Chelsea snorts. "There's a black market in breast implants?"

"Yeah, we have the name of the doctor from whom the implants were stolen."

" Who uses a black market breast implant?" Chelsea furrows her brows towards Booth who is still pouting about her hotel under his aviators.

" Back alley plastic surgeons use them. They're not even real doctors."

"Are you going to write the screenplay?"

"What screenplay?" Chelsea asks.

" The one based on your's and Dr. Brennan's book."

" Well I guess maybe the producer I'm meeting will tell me." Chelsea replies simply. Truth be told she never wanted part in any of the books, Brennan read some of her writing and insisted they work together, she wanted to remain anonymous but her publisher had other plans for her.

"Okay guys; let's turn our attention back to the murder victim. I'd like to go pay a visit to Dr. Boobs."

"Of course you would." Chelsea sasses as Booth sends her a glare.

"Why? If implants were stolen from him, he wouldn't know anything."

" Because it's the only lead that we've got Finn and leads are great for screen plays or even, say, if you're actually working a real case." Finn gives him a pissy look and Booth whistles. As Cheslea shakes her head.

"Just sleep with her already." She mutters as Booth sends her another glare. "What? You seem tense."

The trio find themselves in a plastic surgeon's large waiting room. Booth and Finn are sitting in a couple of chairs reading magazines while Chelsea paces. She is ranting about plastic surgery.

"Every culture nurtures ideals of beauty toward which people strive. Fine, but in the future people will look back upon the surgical alterations..." Booth lowers his magazine and catches the eye of a patient sitting near them. She glares, annoyed and Booth looks up at Chelsea.

Chelsea sits. " of the nose or breasts or buttocks with the same horror that we regard binding of the feet or the use of bronze coils to extend the neck."

"Do you want to speak up because it's really hard to hear every word in this very very quiet waiting room?"

"It's barbaric. It's painful." She looks at the woman waiting. " It's wrong. This murder victim may never be identified because some glorified barber with a medical degree had the arrogance to think that he could do better then the millennium of evolution." Booth hides his face in the magazine.

"Do you know what producer you're meeting with, Dr. Swan?"

" No, my publisher didn't give me a name. I don't know what a producer does specifically."

"Nobody does, but it's really important."

"Dr. Kostov will see you now." The receptionist says as Booth and Chelsea stand up.

" You can remain here Agent Finn."

Finn seems disgruntled. " Yes sir."

In the plastic surgeon's office. Booth sets the breast implant from the dead girl down on the doctor's desk. Chelsea and the doctor are seated at the desk and Booth joins them.

"Do you recognize this Dr. Kostov?"

"That would be your high profile double lumen full 'C' saline."

"Yeah it's from a shipment of implants you reported stolen six months ago." Booth explains as Kostov seems shocked.

"I have a hard time believing you're returning one implant to me."

" I found it in the remains of a murdered girl." Chelsea simply says.

"Have many more of those stolen implants been recovered?"

"Yeah. Approximately three weeks ago there was a uh, faulty one that had to be removed by a surgeon out in the valley.:

"From whom?" Booth asks.

" A Heidi"

"I don't know what that means." Chelsea shrugs.

"LA speak for call girl."

"LAPD was investigating. They can tell you what agency the girl was working for." Kostov Looks at Chelsea. "You have the most beautiful bone structure."

" I can't take credit. It's genetic."

"How old are you?" He asks as Chelsea furrows her brows.

" Why do you want to know?"

"Well it's never too early to watch problem areas " He gets up and walks over to her. " the jaw, little pouches beneath the eyes. Do you mind?"

" You touch her; she'll break your arm. She thinks what you do is..."

" Barbaric." She glares at Kostov.

Booth laughs. "No, don't look at me. I like my face the way it is."

Chelsea is sitting in a red plastic covered bed back in her hotel's pool area. She is lying on her stomach with her laptop open and she is talking to Angela who is her lab working on the reconstruction.

"Sweetie, I'm having a hard time with this skull."

"Did you try filling in the surgical scoring."

" I can't be definitive. All the usual indicators have been modified. I reconstructed three facial variations. She had her cheekbone shaved, her chin changed, her jaw reconstructed." Angela Sends images of the girl to Chelsea's computer. " That's just what she did to her bones. We don't have a clue what she did to the soft tissue. Her nose, her brows, her cheeks."

" Just start with her basic architecture. We'll go from there."

" The basic architecture is what I can't find."

Chelsea sighs feeling her hands start to shake, she looks at her glucose monitor seeing it say 54 mg/dl and 70 mg/dL she quickly looks around for her bag sifting through it, " You're going to have to make a best estimate."

" Did you just tell me to guess?"

"No, I said make a best estimate based on your experience and expertise."

" Okay, well dress it up however you want, but it's still a guess. Look, my experience and my expertise don't extend to this. A facial reconstruction might not be helpful in this case."

" Angela, I told you it would be hard just...do what you can."

"Okay Chels, you're being a little edgy and tart with me and all I'm trying to do is tell you the truth. Is your glucose low" Angela says she nods when she sees Chelsea grabbing a granola bar

"It's just... What this young woman did to herself, it's as if she completely removed her own identity. Who hates herself so much that she not only changes her looks but her core architecture? If we don't know who she is, then how will we be able to catch the person who murdered her?" Chelsea snaps the bar open immediately eating it.

" Is that your way of apologizing?"

"Yes, Angela."

"I accept. I love your guts, Sweetie."

"Love you too Ang."

The next day at the LA FBI office. Chelsea and Booth are sitting across a small table from a classy looking businesswoman. She turns out to be a madame. Agent Finn is pacing. They are discussing the remains and the stolen breast implant.

"According to LAPD, a black market breast implant from the same shipment showed up in another girl from Aphrodite Escorts."

" Are you missing anyone?" Finn asks.

"We're not looking into your business, Miss Bardu. We're just trying to solve a murder."

"I haven't heard from Rachel in two weeks."

" Is that unusual?" Finn interjects as Booth shoots her a glare.

"I prefer to ask the questions my own way, Agent Finn. Thanks."

" Rachel booked out at a one-week rate. She knows to check in with me if the client wants to extend the contract. It's time to worry."

Chelsea Hands Bardu pictures the pictures Angela had sent her. " Do any of these women resemble Rachel? "

"If I had to pick one, this is the closest," she points to one of the pictures. " but not really."

" Hmmm, does Rachel have a last name?"

" Rachel wasn't even her real first name."

"Ah, she goes by Rachel Ashaunce." Finn speaks up from behind them,

"Rachel went to Vegas with a long time customer."

"I need his name..."Bardu looks like she's not going to answer. "Miss. Bardu it's always the same story, beautiful young woman...somebody wants to meet her, somebody can't have her, somebody dies."

" Dr. Anton Kostov, an assembly line nip tucker in town. If that's all?"

" Do you have a card, Miss. Bardu?" Booth asks with a sly smoke as Chelsea gags.

Bardu Hands Booth a card. " We provide a law enforcement discount."

Booth takes the card. " Ah." He nods, smirking at the card.

"Miss. Bardu, do you have any idea of what Rachel looked like before her plastic surgery?"

" Which time?" Bardu arches her brow with a smug lip purse. And with that she walks away.

🦋

In the California lab. Chelsea and Booth are looking at on-screen visuals of the skull. They are bouncing ideas off of each other.

"Kostov knew Rachel as a patient and she knew him as a client."

" Kostov wasn't the victim' only plastic surgeon. These are ten times magnifications of the victim's jawbone surgery. Kostov doesn't do work this sophisticated."

"Meaning she had more than one plastic surgeon."

Zack appears on the computer screen to the left. "Zack Addy. I live to serve."

Chelsea shakes her head with a slight smirk. "Zack this facial surgery...the edges of the bone are almost scalped as if the blade simultaneously cut and applied torsion."

"You need to know if this procedure is recognized and sanctioned by the American Medical Association."

" You think Kostov is performing illegal surgical procedures?" Booth asks.

" It won't help us discover the identity of our victim" Hodgins pushes Zack out of the way on the screen behind her. Zack shouts 'hey!' in the background.. "but it might help us catch her killer."

"That's the point, Cherry."

" What?"

" To catch the murder." Booth mutters as Chelsea rolls her eyes.

" I'm sending you a catalog of all the stuff they sent me. Soil samples, pollen, particulates, etcetera that were on the body parts. Nothing too surprising except for E glass fibers."

"Well she didn't pick that up in a field." Chelsea mutters.

" No, it's marine fiberglass. The victim was on a boat shortly before she died. Also, look at this..." A blown up fingernail pops up on the right screen." a fingernail probably her own. I sent it to the FBI crime lab so they can run DNA tests. That's Zirconium by the way not a diamond. So I'm guessing she wasn't your top-drawer high-class prostitute." Hodgins explains

"All the osteological perjovations are consistent with recent elective surgeries except the compound fractures in the right tibia and fibula which indicate traumatic compression and..." (Booth picks up a cell phone and taps it on the table.

" The victim had her leg crushed probably in a car accident around age thirteen." Booth flips the phone around in his hand. " Excuse me! That's my cell phone." Chelsea argues as Booth simply smirks and walks off.

"I analyzed the molars. Oxygen and strontium isotopes in enamel indicate early childhood in New England while the dentin suggests six to ten years in southern California."

"Hey, Miss. Bardu. Hi. Special Agent Booth. I've reconsidered your offer. I was wondering if I could have one of your ladies visit me today?"

Chelsea looks to Booth. "You're ordering a prostitute from my cell phone?"

Booth waves her off. " I was wondering if Rachel ever took part in any of those two on one specials."

" Hey the old two on one special, classic." Hodigns snorts out a laugh as everyone looks at him incredulously.

" What's a classic?" Zack asks.

"That's great. Just send me whoever she worked with the most."

"You're ordering a hooker to my hotel?" Chelsea grimaces.

"Did I hear you say hooker?" Zack quirks up.

"How come I never get to go on these out of town trips?"

Chelsea sends a look to Hodgins on the screen, "Okay I am hanging up now." she clicks the video off with the remote.

Booth covers his hand over the speaker. "Cause you have much looser daily allowances than I do."

"Well, have fun. I have to get up early tomorrow."

"Why?"

" I'm meeting a producer."

The meeting with the producer was uneventful and frankly only made Chelsea even more annoyed. She suggested to the publisher that Brennan stick with the meetings on their book tour and when it was her turn to go on the Book tour she would do the same. For now the trio were at the Santa Monica pier. It's crowded and there is a volleyball game going on. Chelsea, Booth, and Finn are watching the game and discussing their suspect, who happens to be playing in the game.

"There's a pretty good chance one of these leaping losers is our killer."

"You always think it's the boyfriend." Chelsea rolls her eyes.

"Well he loved her, he found out she was a prostitute. I'd say anyone who plays this stupid game is capable of murder"

"Well then you got this case sewed up." She pushes his arm. " Why don't you just go and arrest them all?"

Booth rolls his eyes. "Excuse me guys, ladies? Ladies, Gentlemen, excuse me?" They just ignore him. "Please?" Chelsea jumps into the middle of the game and catches the ball. She punts it down the beach and the players stare in confusion and annoyance. Booth holding up his badge. " Okay everyone who isn't Nick Harberson go get the ball."

" Go fetch." Chelsea mutters as Everyone leaves, but Nick, who is left standing in the center of the court looking very confused. They sit Nick down on a nearby Bench and discuss everything with him, he turns out to be very useless.

Sunny street in California. Chelsea and Booth are walking down the street with Dr. Kostov. He is in a rush, but they are keeping pace and asking questions.

"Isn't it against your ethical code to have sexual relations with a patient or do you guys even have an ethical code?"

"Sex with patients is frowned upon." Kostov replies bluntly.

"That's why he said the implants were stolen. There is no way to prove that he was the one who installed them"

" I did not know Rachel was dead when you last visited. I did not kill Rachel. I made her beautiful." He smiles at the thought.

"You mean you took what was unique and particular about her and destroyed it."

"You have a serious neurosis on this subject." Kostov smirks playfully as Chelsea, who looks like she is about to smack him.

"Do you have a boat?" Booth asks as Kostov tears his gaze from Chelsea.

" I do four boob jobs a day, twenty grand a pop. Of course I have a boat. That's all you get without a lawyer."

" So what do you do huh? Pay him with hair plugs?" Booth yells after Kostov who is walking off.

Back to yet another sunny street in California lined with Palm trees. Booth is once again driving the Mustang with Chelsea riding shotgun. They are discussing the case.

" Scenario number one, prostitute gets breast augmentation from plastic surgeon in return for sex. She threatens to tell on him."

Chelsea shrugs. "Plausible."

"Scenario number two, jealous boyfriend...well yada yada ...you know the rest. Which do you like?"

" Neither." Chelsea sighs.

" Because there's no real evidence."

"Unless you count volleyball. Sounds like you're getting ready to quit." Chelsea looks at Booth with a scowl.

"Quit? No. It's just the Deputy Director wants me to hand the case over to the LA field office. We're supposed to give Agent Finn what we've got and go home."

"What? Forget it. You don't even like Agent Finn. You think she's an idiot." Chelsea speaks up as Booth nods.

"Cherry, the whole case is a bust. It's a blank. I mean we don't have anything. We checked her apartment, nothing. There are no pictures, nothing. We don't know what she looked like. We don't know her name."

Chelsea sighs. " It's like she lived on the world instead of in it. Cullen is calling you back because he thinks I'm at a dead end. You have to tell him he's wrong." Booth pulls the car over and parks. He looks at Chelsea.

"Is he wrong?"

" We know we're looking for someone who grew up in New England and moved here about eight years ago. Her leg was crushed in a car accident when she was thirteen. She was on a boat shortly before she was murdered. We know some of her names and some of her faces."

" That's all your stuff, okay. Usually by now we know more about my stuff."

"We have separate stuff?" Chelsea furrows her brows.

"Yeah, by now I usually have a feeling for the person. What they wanted. How they felt. What was going on in their lives? With this girl, nothing."

" She thought she was ugly. She did everything she could to make herself beautiful and all she did was make herself more invisible." Chelsea explains.

" Everybody in this city thinks they're ugly, huh, and nobody is. I'm starting to get why you hate anonymous death so much."

"We were born unique. Our experiences mold and change us. We become someone. All of us and to have that taken away by murder, to be erased from existence against our will, it's just..."

" Evil?" Booth quipps as Chelsea thinks for a moment.

"Unacceptable. These bones you bring me, I give them a face. I say their names out loud. I return them to their loved ones and you arrest the bad guy. I like that."

" So do I."

" I feel like we should be arresting these doctors because whether they killed her or not they...they still erased her."

"Well, maybe I could hold off calling for a day." Booth tries to reason with Chelsea who feels her head already pounding.

"It's not good enough." Booth starts the car again.

"You're welcome." He pulls away from the curb and drives away. Chelsea''s cell phone rings and she pulls it out to answer it.

"Chelsea."

"The murder weapon is a larger version of the surgical implement used on the victim's jaw."

"You compared the bones to the marks left on her jaw? That's brilliant Zack"

" It was Hodgins. Well Hodgins quoting you so it was us. Go team. But according to the National Plastic Surgery Association, there's only one surgeon who does this procedure."

"Tell me he's in LA."

" He's in LA." She hangs up the phone.

"Dr. Henry Atlas, Rodeo Drive, Beverly Hills. Go." Booth hits the gas.

🦋

Dr. Atlas's office He is seated at his desk and Chelsea is across from him. Booth stands over him as they question him. Booth notices a picture of a sailboat on the wall.

"My innovations, yes. There is an adage in my business, you can't alter the bone. I've proven it incorrect even to my patients."

" How many have you done?" Chelsea asks.

" Perhaps half a dozen and if you get a warrant I will release the names of my patients otherwise..."

" Do you use special operating instruments?" she continues.

"Yes, I designed them myself specifically for the procedure."

"Have you patented them or shared the design with anyone?" Chelsea was grilling him practically which was stunning the hell out of Booth.

" Not yet."

"Nah, He's waiting until he has enough success stories to cash in." Booth speaks up.

" Well he's going to be sure of one success story."

"That's right. We got here Sandra Cane, Rachel Ashaunce. Candace Hayden. Do these ring a bell?" Booth tosses the photos that Angela made onto the table.

Atlas doesn't even look them over before rolling his eyes. "As I have indicated."

"A search warrant here." Booth hands him the warrant. " to collect your surgical instruments."

"You'll...you will shut me down. You will cost me a fortune."

" The only ones we require Dr. Atlas are the ones you designed yourself." Chelsea nods towards him slightly as he sighs moving to get the tools.

"She told me her name was Susan Sheppard." Atlas pulls a case out of a draw and opens it on his desk. Inside are the tools he made.

Chelsea looks at them. " Brilliant."

The next comes and Chelsea is in the California lab. She is testing medical instruments as possible murder weapon by stabbing them in clay and comparing the marks to the marks on Rachel's bones. Eventually she finds it. She calls Booth to tell him that she found the murder weapon and they decide to bring in Dr. Atlas they gather in a conference room at the LA FBI headquarters. A long table is placed in the center of it. Booth and Chelsea are sitting at the table across from Dr. Atlas and his lawyer.

"We have the murder weapon. We have trace evidence from your boat." Chelsea slides the photos towards Dr. Atlas.

"We have testimony from your staff that you argued with a woman you knew as Susan Sheppard shortly before she died."

" So what you need now is a confession."

Booth sits back in his chair. "You're patient list is what is known as a uh, A-list right? Oscar winners, supermodels, super-agents, moguls...so how is it that a call girl makes the grade?"

" You can answer that Henry." His lawyer nods for him to do so.

"I did Susan's procedure pro bono."

" Why?" Chelsea furrows her brows.

"Because she volunteered."

Chelsea scoffs, shaking her head at the thought. " She was a guinea pig."

"How did you meet her?" Booth asks, Atlas doesn't answer. "Aw, come on. I mean Susan didn't just walk into your office, did she?"

" Oh, just tell them Henry."

" Through another call girl. One I used regularly. Sometimes these girls from the high-class establishments start to have expectations beyond the professional."

Booth practically scoffs. "What? She thought you were going to marry her?"

"Something along those lines, yes. So I made a change, I started requesting Susan."

" Did you trade plastic surgery for sexual favors?" Chelsea asks

"Obfuscate Henry." His lawyer says as he rolls his eyes.

"We did each other favors, and went fine for a few months."

" Until Susan wanted you to marry her too." Booth had a smirk on his face not believing that anyone wanted to marry the doctor.

" No, in my opinion, Susan was becoming addicted to plastic surgery. I refused to do any more procedures. That's what my staff saw us arguing about."

"What was Susan like?" Booth asks as Atlas sighs.

"She was the girl next-door, simple, healthy. The girl before Susan was the opposite, very flashy. She had diamonds in her incisors...diamonds in her fingernails."

"Cherry, didn't Hodgins find a fingernail?"

Chelsea nods. " Yes, with a fake diamond in it."

" Susan was the girl next-door type." Atlas continues.

"It wasn't her fingernail." Chelsea has a stunned look on her face.

"Jealously, like I said." Booth nods To Atlas. " So what was the name of the escort before Susan?" Atlas says nothing. "The flashy one? The one that thought you were going to marry her?"

"Tell the man what he needs to know Henry." Henry's lawyer says as He sighs again.

Back at the rooftop pool at Chelsea's hotel. Chelsea is watching from afar as Booth sits and waits for Leslie. Leslie arrives and they grasp hands before sitting. Booth holds Leslie's hand and leans in to whisper in her ear. She smiles as he leans back. He turns her hand over and looks at her fingernails. Very gently Booth pulls one of the nails off. It is a fake and underneath is ravaged skin as if the nail had been pulled off. Leslie loses her smile and Booth gestures to FBI agents waiting in the wings. Finn and another Agent handcuff Leslie. Before they take her away she leans in and whispers something to Booth. He smiles sadly and nods his head. Chelsea stands there with her hand on a railing near the edge of the roof. Booth walks up to her.

"She thought Atlas was going to take her out of that life."

"He wanted the girl next door. You were right, jealousy." Chelsea simply says.

"Well it's an old story. Bet your fifteen hundred year old friend back home heard a version. Leslie thought Rachel was stealing her man so she killed her."

"What did she ask you?" Chelsea's eyes had this glimmer about them that easily trapped anyone who dared to look into them.

" What?"

"She asked you something after she was arrested. What was it?"

" She asked me," Booth pauses. " if I thought she was beautiful. I got one more thing." He pulls some papers out of his back pocket. " I had the Bureau search for adolescent girls that were injured in car crashes in the upper northeast ten to twelve years ago." Booth hands Chelsea the paper and it's a newspaper. There is an article titled "Local Woman Killed In Car Crash, Daughter Survives."

" Daughter's right leg was crushed."

Chelsea reads the article. "Allison. Her name was Allison Holmes."

" Her father and her brother are still alive somewhere in Bangor, Maine. We will return the remains."

" Thanks Booth." she smiles for once, a genuine smile since they had landed.

" Well, Cherry, you do your thing. I do mine."

Chelsea looks at a picture of her in the paper. Booth was too busy looking at chelsea.

" Look at her."

" Yeah, pretty little thing." Booth wasn't even looking at the picture, not daring to take his eyes off the sight in front of him

Word count: 6457

Bones 1x10: The Woman at the Airport