|Scene Title||Scooby Doo Forensics|
|Synopsis||Jethro takes his teams out for training. He brings Brennan along to look at a cold scene. Brennan gets a little stressed by MLE forensic procedure.|
|Date||<date of IC effect>|
Working for Morgan Security has Jethro doing things he hasn't done in a while. However, instead of being angry about it, he's pleasantly surprised at how much he's enjoying it. He stands out in cold, wet weather, looking around an area for possible places to stick security men. It's a practice run for when the Noble family goes traveling. He's getting used to his men, and they're getting used to him.
Brennan is not best pleased about being out in this kind of weather. It's far too damp and far too cold in some hellish combination her poor North American body isn't bred for. Huddling into her coat and scarf, she walks up from behind Jethro to stand at his side, handing over one foam cup of steaming coffee before sipping at her own. "I still don't understand why I'm here," she begins. Her odd greetings take some getting used to. "If this is a training exercise for the security detail, it's too far outside my expertise for me to be of any use."
"Killin' two birds with one stone, Brennan," Jethro comments to the woman beside him. "You want a warming charm?" He reaches out to take the coffee, taking a long drink. "Cold case around here, wanted to see what you thought." He explains a little more about the case and gestures over to a darker corner. "Last time we knew where the bastard was, he was in that corner."
"Yes, thank you." Awkward as she is, Brennan is quite careful to observe the basic rules of politeness - at least insofar as she can grasp them. And she'll never turn down some extra warmth when it's this damp out. Another drink of her coffee and she's headed off in the direction indicated, stepping carefully down the rocky hillside toward the low overhang indicated. "How cold is cold?" Apparently she assumes that he's following her. "Are the remains still present?" Because that could make a difference.
Jethro flicks his wand, warming her easily with the warming charm. "Coupla months, MLE says. Came to MorSec because the guy killed was from the US. Since I'm former MBI, and still on the books as bein' a liason, they figured I'd find out more than a new agent." He gazes into the dark corner. "Not sure. Don't think so, but the guy writin' up the report wasn't clear." He steps toward the dark corner, expecting her to follow, or at least be interested in what he finds.
The hand not gripping her coffee flies out to the side to stop Jethro from getting too far into the dark. "Wait." She hands him her cup and moves in closer, pulling a small flashlight from her pocket and clicking the button to see if it's far enough from magical interference to work. It isn't. "I need to read what's left and your magical signature's too overpowering." Which would be why she stopped him, but she needs some light. "Can you do one of those 'throw a ball of light somewhere so it sticks' charms?" Because that would give her the light she needs without clogging her sense with all his sand.
Jethro grabs her cup, bemused. He steps back, finding somewhere to set their coffees down. He flicks his wand and sends the ball of light toward her, shining down where it would be most useful. "Usedta have ta hold a flashlight for my dad when he was workin' in the store." He knows exactly where to put the light. When the light is anchored for a bit, he reaches down to get his coffee again, taking another drink. "Far enough back?" Or is his sand still bothering her senses?
"Yes, you're an adequate distance away." Brennan, deadpan. Her sense of humor needs some work. Or possibly a defib. "There are remains here, Gardener." She snaps on a pair of gloves from her pocket and brushes a layer of fine gravel away. "A mandible and three-quarters of her pelvic girdle. Victim was female, early pubescence. No more than twenty years old." Lifting the jaw, she sniffs the air around the bone. "A moon-child." Something about that makes her trail off, expression darkening. She's silent for a long moment, simply staring at the bone fragments on the ground in front of her.
"A girl?" Jethro is surprised, and barely holds himself from stepping forward to examine the bones himself. He pats his pocket where, yes, he does still have gloves. "Moon child?" He does step forward at that. "Were, or somethin' different?" He wants to get familiar with Brennan's terminology. Every little piece of information is important.
He startles Brennan - enough to make her jump a little before answering. "Not a lycanthrope. Their packs refuse to turn children. Too dangerous. Uncontrolled. Even pups are raised by the pack until they reach their majority, at which point they can choose. Become a part of the pack or set off on their own." It's only the mentally ill sons of bitches like Fenrir that go after children. "No, this … " She breathes in deep again, sifting something. "Her core, Gardener. Like Snape's ocean or Siobhan's sun." She glances back at him over her shoulder. "Or your sand." Leaning forward, she presses one gloved hand against the side of the boulder that shades this small space from the wind. "Moon magic hasn't been a part of this island since the Romans drove out the Druidic healers. Sun magic like Siobhan's could filter down through generations of European nobility, but the moon is almost strictly Druidic or Scandinavian in origin." She looks down from the boulder to the bones, running fingertips over the pitted surface of the jaw. "She would have been a great healer." It's always harder when it's kids.
His sand? Jethro frowns for a long moment. He always thought his magic was like dirt, thick and black. If she's feeling sand, then maybe something happened… A wry snort escapes as he considers the thought. Of course things happened. He gazes down at the bones, pulling the gloves out of his pocket. Sliding them on, he squats, running a finger through the dirt in the area. He doesn't actually touch the bones, but the dirt near it. "If my history teacher wasn't full of it, they used t' burn kids sometimes as sacrifices to the magic. Wonder if your moon-girl was one of those." He has no way of knowing whether the bones were burned or killed in other ways. "You wanna take these somewhere to study 'em?" If she's anything like the lab rats he knows, that will be a definite affirmative.
"If she had been burned, there would be evidence of charring, Agent Gardener. Here and here especially." She points to the edges of the mandible where the soft tissue covering would have been thinnest. "There's none." Standing, she backs up to walk around the other side of the outcropping, making a full loop. By the time she's next to him again, her expression is one of frustration. "It's so hard to read when it's this cold." And no, she doesn't mean the weather. "The remains of the American are where?" Because she wants to get a good look at those. "There's no way to tell for certain with these few specimens, but I don't believe this girl came from the era of human sacrifice." Much more recent than that. "But I also don't want to move these until I know more. Can you spare a team to keep this area under surveillance?"
Jethro takes in all of her information, and nods, glad to have her giving him the information. "Yeah." He signals to one of the team leaders, and that team stops the training exercise and moves to stand in position, ramrod-straight, looking straight ahead. Jethro rolls his eyes at the pseudo-military bearing of one of them, then returns his attention to Brennan. "Not sure exact spot. Somewhere within this alley here, they said." Not every Auror is as careful or specific as the MBI wishes. "Kinda glad I'm workin' with people who get the importance of …" He trails off, knowing the woman will understand what he means. "Wonder if it was up just a bit."
"They left human remains just … lying out in the open with no surveillance or even an accurate retrieval location?" Brennan is just short of actually twitching. "Who trained these people, Scooby Doo?" Grabbing her coffee, she takes a long drink and scans the horizon. "Gardener, I need those remains if I'm going to be able to tell you anything about what happened here." And doesn't that seem a little … personal. "Whatever happened, that girl and your American were mixed up in it. Have your agents sweep the area. Anything that gets picked up needs to go to the MSEC mobile labs."
Scooby Doo? Jethro laughs, a short, sharp bark of laughter that surprises even him. "Think you might be right. Got their license from a Cracker Jack box," he grins. He calls over another team, and between the five of them — he helps too — they begin gathering up all the bits of things. Remains, cloth, pieces of something that might have been a wand, all of it gathered up by gloved fingers and placed into containers to take back to the labs. The personal comment is taken in stride. He does want to know what happened. It's part of why he did so well as an MBI agent for so long. He enjoyed it. The puzzle of discovery energizes him.
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