Title: Of Vampires and Bones
Author: enchanted nightingale
Beta Reader: pussycatadamah
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Bones
Timeline: After the end of 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel' / After Season one of 'Bones'
Pairs: None yet
Summary: Buffy has joined the FBI as a break from finding and training new slayers. She becomes Booth's partner and works with Brennan and her team when the supernatural knocks on her door once again.
Chapter Summary: It is Buffy's first case and she has to take care of the minor vampire problem before her new colleagues get wind of it.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from the series 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' or 'Bones'
Booth sat in front of his superior, a frown on his face.
"But Brennan is my partner," he stressed.
"She's a Forensic Anthropologist, not a field agent, but your new partner is."
He handed him a file which Booth opened reluctantly. The agent gave a quick glance to the profile.
"Nice," he concluded.
"More than nice," his superior countered. "She is strong, fast, has excellent aim, a degree in psychology and wrote a paper on various torture devises and techniques."
Booth grimaced. "She seems so…"
"Girl next door, agent? Well, sweet Miss Summers has beaten to a pulp a gang leader, in front of his men and still walks around. They have not even tried to threaten her."
"That's odd," Booth commented.
"The girl is dangerous, that's why the two of you can make quite a pair on the field."
"She's barely twenty five!" Booth exclaimed as he paced up and down the lab in the Jeffersonian Institute.
"You already mentioned that," Brennan said without looking up from the bones she was examining.
Booth stopped pacing. "You have not heard a word I said, Bones."
"New partner, too young, female, annoying," Brennan recited. "And don't call me Bones!"
Booth rolled his eyes.
"You're missing the point Brennan," he began pacing again.
"I'm female, I may be past twenty five, but Zack is, and he is professional. I really don't understand why you make such a big deal out of it!" Brennan replied, still not bothering to look up from the skeleton remains before her. "There, blood on the inner side, looks like the victim died of internal bleeding."
"Bones, the guy died two centuries ago, he can wait some more," Booth finally snapped.
That remark actually made her look up. Booth saw her look and raised his hands in a 'no harm' gesture.
"Sorry, I was tired, irritated, I really don't know what got over me," Booth said hurriedly.
Brennan glared at him for several more minutes before going back to the body.
Angela, who had caught the last bit, approached them. She walked over to Booth with a wry smile.
"Do you have a death wish?" she asked him.
"I forgot, sorry," he defended.
"This definitely is Jonathon Brendan Smith," Brennan decided.
"Who is Jonathon Brendan Smith?" Booth asked.
"Some priest that was with a few nuns in the Amazon jungle, died by cannibals, the skeleton was preserved as a trophy and recently was rediscovered and sent to us," Angela replied.
Booth clapped his hands. "Great, case solved, can we get back to my problem?"
Brennan shook her head. "Wait until you meet her. Maybe you'll like her."
"New partner?" Angela was immediately interested.
"Some rookie," Booth snapped.
"Okay," Angela simply said and walked away.
"I have to go, I'm meeting 'wonder girl'," Booth said. "And you are coming with me."
"What? Why?" Brennan exclaimed.
"Do you have anything better to do?" Booth questioned.
"I have to authenticate a body that can possibly belong to an emperor from the Byzantium for the Metropolitan Museum."
"Well, tough, you're coming with me," Booth decided and pulled her along.
"She's late," Booth said again.
"It's only three minutes past the appointed time! Also it is expected from women to be at least five minutes late," Brennan said.
Booth gave her a look. "Am I to take that you have experience on that?"
"Well, Angela says so," Brennan replied.
Booth began pacing again.
"Say, Booth, is she short, blond and…vibrant?" Brennan asked.
"Why?" he demanded as he turned.
"She's young," Brennan agreed.
He saw what Brennan saw then. A petite, slim girl was walking towards them. She wore a cream colored suit that made her look sweet and younger. Her hair was caught in a high ponytail, a healthy tan on her face. That face looked shocked upon seeing them. Brennan thought she saw pain on it, but it was fleeting and quickly hidden behind a pleasant smile.
"Agent Booth, Doctor Brennan," the girl greeted.
"Are you Elizabeth Summers?" Booth asked.
"Yes, sir," she replied.
"Just call me Booth."
"You don't look a day older than seventeen," Brennan commented.
The blond agent faltered, but recovered fast and smiled. "Thank you. I am guessing this is a problem, my being so young I mean."
Neither of the older pair said anything.
"We have a case," Booth said finally. "It's at a dangerous neighborhood." He eyed the blond speculatively.
"So, Summers?" Brennan asked once they were back in the car. "Anything to do with Joyce Summers?"
The blond flinched. "My mother," she said reluctantly.
"Who is Joyce Summers?" Booth asked.
"She organized the art exhibition in New York about wooden sculptures of Amazonian tribes," Brennan replied.
"I remember that one," muttered the blonde with no enthusiasm.
"Not an art fan Summers?" Booth asked her.
"I just don't like wooden sculptures," she replied.
"But tribal art is so fascinating," Brennan argued.
"I found some of the statues gross," replied the blond and Booth chuckled.
"I like you," he told her.
Brennan looked sullen. "No one appreciates artifacts properly."
"I'm more into weapons, from any kind of period," replied the woman from the back seat.
"That's an odd preference," Brennan commented.
"Coming from a lady that picks bones for a living and knows how to kick ass professionally?" Buffy questioned.
Brennan was indignant and Booth laughed.
"Be careful, she's touchy about her bones," he warned.
"I was merely making an observation," the blond defended. "I actually admire your work doctor."
"Read the book?" Booth asked.
"I didn't know anything about a book."
Brennan cocked her head to the side. That prospect was not so bad after all, being known for her actual work and not her book. It was a novelty.
"Can I call you Elizabeth?" Brennan asked.
The blond made a face. "I never really liked that name. Most people just call me Buffy."
"Buffy?" Booth yelled from the front seat. "That's not a name."
"Sure it is. It actually makes an impression, people remember, comment…"
"Laugh," Booth added.
"I was three or so when I heard that in a movie," Buffy defended.
"What did your parents say?" Booth demanded.
She looked skeptical. "I think they were possibly drunk."
"See, now there's a logical explanation," Booth said. "Bones, you're all quiet."
"Why do you call her that?" Buffy asked.
"I've been asking him for months but he won't say," Brennan complained. "And don't think about joining him."
"Nah, I was thinking calling you 'Doc'," Buffy replied.
"Hm, I like it," Brennan said.
"Of course you do," Booth stated. "You get a kick out of telling people you're a doctor."
"No I don't!"
"Yes you do."
"You're going to make Buffy think I'm some kind of snob," Brennan complained.
"I can't have you two siding against me," Booth said. "Enough talk, we're here."
"This is not over," vowed Brennan.
They got out of the car and Brennan slipped her latex gloves on. She had one of the forensic team give one to Buffy.
"It may look bad," Booth warned.
They were shown to a ware house. Most of the FBI and police personnel had cleared the area, only the forensic team remained inside.
Behind some crates they found the body. It was only a skeleton, the flesh red and rotting. The body was in metal chains, hanging from the ceiling.
Booth made a face at the view. Brennan approached without a comment or reaction. Buffy just stared at the body, familiarity slipping into her mind.
"Victim looks female, about 20-25 years of age," Brennan estimated with a quick look. "From her clothes, I'd say private school but…"
"That's in fashion lately, the skirt I mean," Buffy called out. "Popular in colleges."
Booth and Brennan looked at her.
"I like to stay up to date with fashion issues," Buffy defended. "Also, the cute outfit must have cost a small fortune."
"I can't make out anything else. We need to go to the lab," Brennan decided as she stood and began to take a look around the space for more evidence or any other clues.
"Looks like there was a party last night," Booth observed as they took a look around.
Buffy's face darkened as she looked around the warehouse as well. She set off towards the other end of the ware house, relying on her senses.
Booth saw her walk away from the crime scene and frowned. She hadn't cracked after five minutes, had she?
"Summers!" he yelled.
Brennan turned at the sound of his voice, as did several other people. She noticed that Buffy had walked a small distance away from them and kept going despite Booth's call. The new agent stopped suddenly after a while.
"Doc! There's a second present for you here!" Buffy called out.
From another spot, one of the forensic team called out.
"There's another body here as well!"
Back at the Jeffersonian, Brennan's team stared at the three bodies. They were all in similar condition, all victims female.
"How are we going to examine all three of them?" Zack asked.
"I need ID's," Booth said as he walked up the stairs to the secured location, after using his card. Buffy was right behind him.
"Who's the blond?" Hodgins asked.
"Buffy Summers, my new partner. Hodgins is the guy with the beard, Angela the nice lady and Zack," Booth said in a rush, missing the pout Zack had on his face when the agent did not elaborate on him. "Now about the bodies."
"I gave Angela the information Buffy gave me about the clothes of the first victim and it turns out she is Cathy Emmerson. She's been missing for a week. The victim Buffy found is Luisa Cameron, missing for ten days and the third woman, Marie Dubris, disappeared two days ago," Brennan started. "Also, the last two were found with not an ounce of blood within them. No visible marks on the bones, nothing."
Booth frowned. "And Emmerson?"
Brennan paused. "She had been tortured, brutally, but that was not what killed her."
"I'm going to call their families," Booth decided. "Bones?"
"I have my hands full here," she indicated the bodies.
"Summers, come on," he said and left.
Angela watched the two agents leave.
"Cute," she said to her friend. "Despite the weird name."
"Don't start. I like her."
"I'm just making conversation. You know, as a way to pass the time."
"Angela, the girl is fine," Brennan said. "She has stomach. She did not even flinch at the sight of the bodies."
"Great, another one. Why am I the only sane person here?" Angela said aloud.
"We are sorry for your loss," Booth repeated.
"I get it, geez!" Buffy exclaimed.
"Just to be safe; I hate surprises," he said as he opened the door to his office.
A couple were already there, waiting for them. Booth gave Buffy one last warning look.
"Mr. and Mrs. Emmerson," Booth began, gaining their complete attention.
Several hours later Booth watched the third victim's parents walk out of his office.
"It's the same story over and over again." He shook his head.
"Serial killer?" Buffy suggested.
"I hope not," he muttered. "I'm going back to the lab, check on Brennan. Coming?"
"I have to contact the girls' friends, see what they know."
Booth nodded and stood. "Good luck with that."
Once Buffy was on her own she took out her cell phone.
"Summers here, is Lloyd there? Well get him. I'm coming over and he'd better have answers."
She closed the phone and left Booth's office. After a quick stop by her apartment to change into a pair of jeans she headed back to the area the victims were found set on getting some answers.
She had only recently arrived in Washington DC and had yet to properly unpack. Her house was a mess, but she liked it that way. Her clothes and shoes were the only things she had placed in her closet. She had brought her furniture from Europe but they were still in the basement.
'Oh, well, maybe on this weekend,' she thought confidently. She had postponed it for quite some time.
She had decided to move back to the States after losing five potentials in Berlin. She could no longer stand seeing them getting killed. The new slayers were too many and too careless. She and Faith, maybe a couple of the remaining SITs were the only ones with fighting experience or at least basic skill. She felt nauseous just thinking of sending the girls to patrol, to their likely death. Sure, they were centered in London, but once a batch was ready, the girls were sent all over the world, along with their new watchers.
She pondered over that for a while. They had rebuilt the Council, younger people were everywhere. The older watchers that had survived were appointed to training and running the library, nothing more. Giles did not trust them, nor did she, and she was second in command. They had built a sizable army of girls. The Council's wealth had helped quite a lot. All of them were on payroll, something Giles had decided and no one had refuted. The families were all aware of what went on with their girls, as she had demanded. It was compulsory for the girls to finish high school and they had nights off. The shocking thing was that Giles had suggested it.
'I don't want over a hundred girls sneaking out under my nose,' he had said to defend his decision but she had seen his smile at the girls' excitement.
She had moved to London after Rome, Paris and many other cities. She managed to stay for six months only when she became restless. It was Giles, again, that suggested she lived her own life.
Willow was happy in the school, using her knowledge to help the young slayers. She was the resident witch and had formed a Coven, teaching some of the watchers simple protective spells and potions she knew they might need.
Dawn wanted to become a watcher so she stayed at the school. She had decided that while looking at colleges in England. Giles, ever the father figure had decided she would attend Oxford and study to be a watcher on the side. Dawn had surprisingly not argued. Her sister had grown a lot.
Then there was Faith. Faith was the same. She fought beside the girls and trained. She was currently in China where there had been reports of at least three girls. Wood was with her, the two of them having got engaged in India during a mission. Buffy had been present and held the memory fondly. Faith had demanded that Wood would ask permission from Buffy since the senior slayer was practically family for her and Giles was a continent and some seas away.
Xander was in some spa in France, his eye had been bothering him again and she smiled as she remembered how he refused Willow giving him a magical eye. The witch had taken the idea from the Harry Potter books but Xander held his own.
'I like the pirate look, it's a chick magnet,' he had claimed only to be mocked by Dawn that the only chicks that would follow him would have actual feathers and lay eggs.
That was when she decided to return to her home country, but nowhere near Sunnydale or LA. She wanted new memories, a new life. She had considered joining the police but quickly balked at the idea. Willow had suggested the FBI as an alternative, so Buffy had dared to take the tests, go through the training and everything. It had surprised her she had managed to pass, especially since her record was not exactly clean, but her scores were excellent, especially the physicals.
She was a slayer nearly ten years now and she still got stronger. Faith had often teased her about it. Giles had been excited actually. She was the only vampire slayer to reach the ripe age of twenty five, despite having died twice, and there was no previous record. It was a new territory for him. She had keener senses now and her strength had improved as well. Most vampires and demons avoided crossing her path. Those who did were unfortunate to say the least. Nowadays she did not have the mood to play with them, just 'swish and kill', as Giles had told her years ago.
She was pulled out of her thoughts when the bar came into view. She got out of her sports car, a silver sports BMW. Xander had escorted her for the buy and Dawn and Faith had laughed for days when they saw her drive. She had improved, if she could say so herself, but still had a long way to go from being a safe driver.
She shrugged it off and locked the car. She dismissed the looks she got from a few lesser demons that left the bar; they scurried away from her in seconds. She entered the place confidently. Lloyd was Willie's second cousin or something and the man knew not to mess with her. Dear old Willie had warned his cousin and the man had been well trained.
"Lloyd!" she called out as she approached the counter.
The man, a tall guy with long brown hair caught in a low ponytail, with yellow specs hanging from his nose, dressed in dark jeans and a bright orangey shirt and a leather vest. His eyes brightened when the blond entered, though many patrons inched towards the exits upon seeing her.
"Slayer!" he yelled louder than it was needed.
"Chill, I'm just here for a drink," she said.
The owner and the patrons visibly relaxed while the blond slipped into a seat. Lloyd was on his feet to serve her.
"How's Willie?" Buffy asked.
"Last I heard he was dating a Deyatona demon-lady," Lloyd said with a shrug.
"Well, he does need a woman in his life. He waited long enough," Buffy commented.
Lloyd nodded and handed her a glass of vodka. Buffy shot it down easily, earning an admiring look from Lloyd.
"So, Lloyd, any news about the latest killings?" she said in a pleasant voice.
The man groaned.
"Oh, come on! Would you like for me to hit you and pretend to torture you for info?" She paused to consider that scenario. "That actually worked with me and Willie."
"So I heard," Lloyd replied sullenly.
Buffy leaned closer expectantly.
"There's a new player in town," Lloyd admitted. "Some vampire named Gerard, barely a century old. He wants to become Angelus' successor." He gave her a pointed look.
The blond Slayer snorted.
"Where can I find him?" Buffy asked.
"He likes rap music, so you might find him at 'Stitch'."
"Thanks Lloyd!" Buffy smiled brightly and left a bill by her glass. "We'll be in touch."
Lloyd watched her leave and was able to breathe regularly once the blond was out of his place. The demons seemed to calm as well and that was all that mattered to him.
"What do you mean nothing?" Booth demanded.
Hodgins sighed and glared the FBI Agent. "Nothing. No insects, no micro-organisms or bacteria, nothing."
Brennan was frowning as well. "We are at a dead end." She sounded frustrated. "The victims have been obviously tortured using sharp, wooden objects and knives."
Booth and Angela flinched.
"His name is Gerard," Buffy said from the stairs.
The rest of them turned to stare at the blond. Booth went to get her.
"You found the killer?" Zack demanded. "How? None of the data points to the weapon or a connection with the victims."
"I asked around," Buffy replied cryptically.
"Gerard what?" Booth demanded.
"No last name. He hangs out at club 'Stitch," Buffy continued. "He arrived in the city last month. He left a trail of bodies in France, same method every time. He snatches girls, preferably brunettes, starves them, tortures them using wooden stakes and a butcher's knife."
Booth and Brennan stared at the blond quizzically
"How did you learn all that?" Booth was suspicious.
"I asked the wrong crowd," Buffy replied.
Brennan was shocked. Her crew did not fare any better.
"I thought you would speak to the friends of the girls," Booth asked Buffy.
She gave him a hard look. "Gerard is in the country illegally and he is not afraid of cops. He thinks death is beyond him and that he's simply an artist."
"The guy is insane," Hodgins deduced.
"You don't say?" Angela snapped.
"We are going to that club tonight, but we still need the murder weapon if he is going to trial," Booth told Buffy.
The blond smirked. "The warehouse next to the one we found the bodies."
Booth swore. He and Brennan set off.
"You're coming Summers!" Booth yelled.
They got to Booth's car and the male agent drove out of the parking lot at top speed.
"You better be right, Summers," Booth told her.
"Funny, I always pray I'm wrong," Buffy mumbled.
The two in the front heard her but did not comment.
They reached the warehouse an hour later. Booth got out of his car, gun in hand.
"Aren't you going to take out your gun?" Brennan asked.
"I don't really like those things," Buffy offered as she followed Booth.
She could not sense any vampires in the immediate area, which meant that Gerard and his friends had moved. She just hoped they had left enough behind for Booth to be satisfied. She did not really expect Booth to arrest him. That would be ridiculous. She would do the dirty job, without witnesses, again.
"No one," Booth declared. His voice echoed in the empty warehouse.
Brennan walked around the empty space, examining the dirty floor. Buffy stood to the side, watching the doctor poke something with a pen she pulled out of her pocket. A sad look crossed the Slayer's face.
"Booth, I found the weapon," Brennan announced.
Booth looked up and saw a wooden stake, covered in dried blood.
Buffy squeezed her body through the thick mass of dancers feeling conscious of the presence of vampires in the club and the general area. It was an awareness she had first noticed in Europe and was glad for it. Not that she did not feel them before, just that now she had a keener sense for finding them.
For the night she had chosen to forego a traditional FBI suit and was dressed in a short, red satin dress, a neon-like sign for vampires. She knew for a fact that they would take the bait. They always did. So she mingled with the crowd, danced a bit and waited.
On the first storey, Booth scowled at Buffy's dancing figure. Brennan shoved her elbow into his side.
"Stop glaring at her. She is just doing her job."
"No Bones, she's just a kid, playing with a psychotic killer."
"I read her file, Booth, she's good. It says she has been used for decoy too many times, knows self defense…"
"This is real life, not a movie," Booth snapped.
"That guy is…cute," Brennan said suddenly.
Booth looked at her sharply at the off-hand comment.
"Cute?" he repeated.
"From the cheeks I'd say definitely European," Brennan continued. "He could be our suspect."
Booth seemed to rethink the situation. "You think a suspect to three murders is cute?" he tried for none challenging.
"Definitely," Brennan replied as she went to follow Buffy as the blond was now on the move, pulling the man outside.
"Bones!" Booth yelled after her.
Buffy offered a fake smile to Gerard as he led her away from potential witnesses.
"So, what is your name cutie?" he asked.
Buffy batted her eyelashes while what she wanted was to smack herself on the head, repeatedly.
'Where the hell are you Booth? Great, an alley! Why are vampires so cliché all the time? I really miss Europe…'
Booth and Brennan made it to the alley in time to see Buffy being led away by their suspect.
"Do I get a gun?" Brennan asked her.
Booth gave her an incredulous look. She lifted her hands in a gesture of surrender.
"Don't give me that look. The guy is a serial killer."
"I trust you can take care of yourself," he told her as he picked up his pace. "FBI! You are surrounded!"
Gerard turned back to stare at Booth. He snorted once he saw the gun.
"Lady, get away from him!" Booth told Buffy.
The Slayer felt Gerard tighten his grip on her arm. It was a good thing that she was supernaturally strong.
"Don't think so, officer. Moi et Mademoiselle here are going to take a nice, long walk."
Buffy rolled her eyes. With strength that surprised her captor, she yanked her hand away and punched Gerard. The vampire was thrown against the wall and snarled at them in vamp face.
Buffy cursed inwardly. 'That idiot! Can't he keep his fangs to himself?'
Booth opened fire, not stopping to think on why the guy was like that. The bullets found their target, the head, and Gerard fell to the ground. Buffy managed to breathe easier. She knew that the vampire would not recover for a few more hours. He would be pronounced dead and the case would be closed.
"Nice shot," she told Booth.
The agent placed his gun in the holster and approached her.
Buffy shrugged. "Never better."
"That was pretty good. You are strong," Brennan commented.
Buffy opted to just smile politely.
"Why is his face like that?" Brennan went closer to get a better look.
"PCP," Buffy nodded sagely.
No one disputed her. After all she had spent years on the Hell mouth and Sunnydale was the capital of denial.
Buffy walked casually in Booth's office. She gave a short tap on the door. He and Brennan looked up from their heated conversation, or argument as her hearing had informed her earlier.
"Good morning everyone!"
"Yeah," Booth muttered.
Brennan gave Buffy a welcoming smile. "Good morning." Then she turned to Booth. "Wasn't that polite?"
Buffy stifled a giggle that would probably be inappropriate.
"The body was stolen," Booth said.
Buffy faked confusion. "Body?"
"Gerard," Brennan explained.
"Yeah." Booth squeezed his exercise ball tightly.
"That's bad, right?" Buffy looked thoughtful.
"The case is closed," Brennan replied. She looked troubled. "There were only ashes found in the room and bullets from Booth's gun, the same ones he fired at Gerard earlier."
"It just doesn't make sense," Booth threw the ball.
Buffy watched it bounce off the wall and caught it in mid air.
"Nothing ever does," she told him as she threw the ball back at him.
Lloyd groaned when Buffy entered his bar.
"I'm off duty!" she announced to him and the demonic clientele.
Lloyd motioned her to the bar.
"Vodka?" he asked her.
"Nah, make it a triple espresso."
"Long night ahead of you?"
"I must pay a visit at some friends at the local cemeteries."
Lloyd snorted and went to get her coffee.
"It's on the house," he told her as he set it down.
Buffy gave him a questioning look.
"Consider this as my welcome to you. We finally have a Slayer in our town." Then he left to serve a chaos demon.
Buffy smiled and took a sip.
End of chapter one