Middleman/Bones: Dialogue fic
Title: The Man in the Eisenhower Jacket
Rating: PG-13 for gore
Word Count: 384
Summary: The eponymous Middleman and Hodgins from Bones for corellianjedi. Probably has a little more plot than it should have, but The Middleman IS the most crossover-able show in universe.
Hodgins was reluctantly impressed when the man crouched down right next to him and the corpse, didn’t stand on the edge of the smell like an idiot. “Doctor Hodgins? I’m Agent Seth Brundle with the Medicocriminal Entomology Department of the FBI. Would you be so kind as to tell me what you’ve found so far?”
Hodgins blinked, a none too friendly comment on federal weight-throwing ready on his tongue, but something about this Agent Brundle made him pause. He couldn’t quite figure it out, so he filled the air with new case jargon, “Well, I can tell you this woman’s been out here for a while. Judging by the Calliphora vicina maggots I’ve found, maybe up to fifteen days.”
Brundle’s gaze changed abruptly, from bland interest to sharp, alarmed focus. “Fifteen days? My fair lady!”
Hodgins frowned, too curious to bother with the odd euphemism, “What? Is that a problem? I mean, more of a problem than usual?”
Brundle glanced at him distractedly, “Only if you’re a law-abiding citizen of this great nation, Doctor Hodgins.” He stood, and Hodgins followed, then suddenly found himself feeling even shorter than usual. The man was a damn giant, with posture a yardstick would envy. He was peering around the foliage like- well, like there was something to see besides foliage.
“Is there something I should know about going on here?” Hodgins inquired, frown deepening.
Brundle sighed through his nose, “Trust me, you’ll know when you should know. And by then, you’ll know.”
Hodgins glanced around, wondering if maybe he was dreaming. Brundle hadn’t actually said what he thought he’d said... had he? “Oh-kay... Should I bother taking any soil samples? Or just hole up in my bunker til this blows over?”
Brundle turned to Hodgins and placed a steady hand on his shoulder, steady eyes meeting his... steadily, “While I can’t in good conscience make promises, I will do my best to keep that from happening.”
“... Who are you?”
“No one. Just the middleman.” Brundle shot Hodgins a crooked, all-American Boy Scout, headstrong and cocksure grin, then strode out into the woods.
Hodgins stood there, utterly bewildered. Not as able as he should’ve been to convince himself that what had happened had actually happened. He almost jumped out of his skin when Brennan called his name.
Rating: PG-13 for gore
Word Count: 384
Summary: The eponymous Middleman and Hodgins from Bones for corellianjedi. Probably has a little more plot than it should have, but The Middleman IS the most crossover-able show in universe.
Hodgins was reluctantly impressed when the man crouched down right next to him and the corpse, didn’t stand on the edge of the smell like an idiot. “Doctor Hodgins? I’m Agent Seth Brundle with the Medicocriminal Entomology Department of the FBI. Would you be so kind as to tell me what you’ve found so far?”
Hodgins blinked, a none too friendly comment on federal weight-throwing ready on his tongue, but something about this Agent Brundle made him pause. He couldn’t quite figure it out, so he filled the air with new case jargon, “Well, I can tell you this woman’s been out here for a while. Judging by the Calliphora vicina maggots I’ve found, maybe up to fifteen days.”
Brundle’s gaze changed abruptly, from bland interest to sharp, alarmed focus. “Fifteen days? My fair lady!”
Hodgins frowned, too curious to bother with the odd euphemism, “What? Is that a problem? I mean, more of a problem than usual?”
Brundle glanced at him distractedly, “Only if you’re a law-abiding citizen of this great nation, Doctor Hodgins.” He stood, and Hodgins followed, then suddenly found himself feeling even shorter than usual. The man was a damn giant, with posture a yardstick would envy. He was peering around the foliage like- well, like there was something to see besides foliage.
“Is there something I should know about going on here?” Hodgins inquired, frown deepening.
Brundle sighed through his nose, “Trust me, you’ll know when you should know. And by then, you’ll know.”
Hodgins glanced around, wondering if maybe he was dreaming. Brundle hadn’t actually said what he thought he’d said... had he? “Oh-kay... Should I bother taking any soil samples? Or just hole up in my bunker til this blows over?”
Brundle turned to Hodgins and placed a steady hand on his shoulder, steady eyes meeting his... steadily, “While I can’t in good conscience make promises, I will do my best to keep that from happening.”
“... Who are you?”
“No one. Just the middleman.” Brundle shot Hodgins a crooked, all-American Boy Scout, headstrong and cocksure grin, then strode out into the woods.
Hodgins stood there, utterly bewildered. Not as able as he should’ve been to convince himself that what had happened had actually happened. He almost jumped out of his skin when Brennan called his name.