Disclaimer: Bones and all its characters belong to Fox, I think. The lovely Miss Chase belongs to Joss Whedon. So. Not mine.
FFA pairing: Temperance Brennan and Cordelia Chase
“Seriously though, you should look into that hair rinse. It could really do something for that flat look you’re sporting right now. Not that I’m not totally supportive of other people’s style choices, but that’s just ugly. I’m only taking on the duty of the beautiful people to educate the less fortunate. No need to thank me, or anything.”
Brennan sighed. She had not been having a good day. Absolutely no one in Sunnydale seemed to notice anything that happened, ever. It should have been easy to identify this corpse. Surely, in a town this size, people would notice when their neighbors stopped going to work. She’d talked to six people so far, and not one had had any useful information about missing people. Well, actually, that was a bit inaccurate. They had had excessive amounts of information. Apparently, the citizens of Sunnydale dropped like flies.
That phrase had been Booth’s, spoken after an alarming day of interviews with the locals. Brennan had frowned, but couldn’t really argue. So now she was at the local high school, in hopes of finding friends of the deceased. Examinations of the corpse had shown her to have been 16-20 years old, and female, so she was scoping out the teenagers while Booth had drawn the slightly better option of investigating at the college.
“Hey, are you even listening to me? Some people can’t even dream of being noticed by me. Boys have begged me to even consider talking to them, you know. Hello, science lady!”
“No, I’m not listening,” Brennan snapped. “Do you know anything about the missing girl, Miss…?”
“Chase. Cordelia Chase.” The insufferable girl flipped her hair over her shoulder, and glared at Brennan, as though waiting for recognition. When she failed to receive the groveling she obviously expected, she gestured with her handbag to a table in the corner of the cafeteria. “You could ask Buffy, though. She’s always involved in the weird stuff. She purposely drags me into her stupid little vendettas, I swear. The girl lives to ruin my life. And my outfits.”
Brennan looked into the indicated corner, and spotted a tiny blond girl, chatting with a redhead. Neither of them looked particularly likely to be involved in murders on the level Brennan was investigating or in murders at all, but she was willing to talk to anyone to get her away from Chase. She turned back to the girl to “thank her for her cooperation,” the way Booth had told her to, but she had already flounced away. Brennan sighed once more, this time in relief, and turned to her next, probably fruitless, interview.