the occipital is connected to the cervical [J'ONN]

[dr. temperance "bones" brennan]

It was really only a matter of time before the scientist found her way to the labs.

She pulled her navy Jeffersonian coat slightly tighter around her body, almost haughtily. The facilities here were far too open for Brennan's tastes. Anyone could waltz right through the door and contaminate the evidence. It was blasphemous.

At least her lab had a sterile platform, even if visitors that made it past security could enter the medico-legal lab itself.

...Correction. At the Jeffersonian. She didn't own the place, no matter what Booth or Cam thought. Here, there didn't even seem to be regular security patrols. Things were inconsistent in addition to inefficient. If the idea weren't completely absurd, Brennan would hypothesize whomever their captors were, had been unprepared for the amount of people to be imprisoned.

Brennan was also suspicious of the amount of state-of-the-art equipment going to waste in this facility. So far she'd seen nothing to suggest the reasons she was trapped here. Her first assumption was that it somehow involved her work as a forensic anthropologist - nothing else made sense. There were plenty of other authors in the world.

That, and authors didn't tend to piss off many dangerous people in quite the same way as one who solved long-cold crimes. It hadn't occurred to her to think of past criminals who had escaped or had accomplices outside prison to carryout revenge schemes.

It wouldn't work, of course. Brennan could take care of herself, and had proven it time and time again. She was just waiting for the opportunity to be face-to-face with her current captors. She'd fight her way out of this place if she had to.

[director j'onn j'onzz]

"The lab is sterilized at all times."

As he had a habit of doing, the Martian popped up seemingly out of nowhere. Even without using his power of invisibility, it was amazing how the 6'3" male could move around so silently. Of course, even more amazing was the circumstances under which he learned to be so covert. When one was facing an entire invasion fleet of genocidal aliens by themselves, the person in question learned how to move without attracting attention.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to disturb you. Your surface thoughts are extraordinarily strong for a human being, though, and I couldn't help but overhear them." The tall alien-in-human-guise pulled out what appeared to be a red, egg-shaped crystal, held in some sort of a grip platform. The crystal was moved over the doorway and a force field was temporarily revealed along its path, as if the crystal were an eraser moving along a chalkboard. "The force field sterilizes every object that enters the laboratory. Bacteria, dirt, and debris are disintegrated at the molecular level. I could feel it the first time that I entered."

The crystal was placed back inside of the detective's long overcoat, after which he removed his fedora from atop his head, revealing his slicked brown hair. "Director J'onn J'onzz of Erimos Security." A hand was extended to the scientist, while a smile tugged on the Martian's lips.

[dr. temperance "bones" brennan]

Though she was visibly startled for a moment, Brennan hid her surprise to the best of her ability. Her brow furrowed in confusion at the rebuttal to her thoughts. She wasn't known for thinking aloud, after all, although she concluded it could be possible she had voiced her disdain at the lack of obvious effort made by way of sanitation.

"The facilities here hardly seem equipped well enough to support efficient examination of evidence. Not to mention the lack of security checkpoints or restriction of access to the lab only increase the probability and likelihood of contamination." She gestured at the still open door, eyebrows slightly raised.

Her head tilted to one side, her continuing tirade cut off by the red orb suddenly hovering across the room. It was an anomalous occurrence, to be certain, but it didn't raise any red flags in her mind just yet. Brennan paid it little heed to what else he had said, something troubling only in its impossibility. "Rationally speaking, my thoughts would be stronger than that of the average person considering that I am highly intelligent, although there would be no way of actually quantifying that information."

Brennan raised her voice slightly, as if she were speaking with an imbecile. "Thoughts cannot be overheard, as they do not exist as sound waves. Thoughts can be speculated at and interpreted with some degree of accuracy based on body language and knowledge of the subject. However, one cannot truly know what another is thinking without asking and receiving an answer."

She crossed her arms at the explanation of the force field, skepticism clear on her face. "Even if it were true that such a 'force field' could exist, by eliminating bacteria and particulates, evidence that could lead to crime scenes is also being destroyed. There is a balance that needs to be reached between eliminating contaminants and eliminating potential crucial evidence."

The hairs on her arms rose slightly at thinking this man - a simple security guard - had been able to detect something the scientist had not. Brennan prided herself on her skills of observation and didn't like being told she had missed something major.

At first she eyed the hand extended toward her as if it were something foreign and distasteful, but then Brennan relented and returned the handshake if not the smile. "Doctor Temperance Brennan, forensic anthropologist with the Jeffersonian Institute."

[director j'onn j'onzz]

As the doctor ranted on about various scientific "facts" and evidence, J'onn couldn't help the smirk that pulled on the right corner of his lip. Obviously the universe that Dr. Brennan hailed from didn't have its own supernatural phenomenon, almost like Earth had been in J'onn's universe before the arrival of Superman. While the anthropologist continued on in her various contradictions to his words, the Martian allowed his hands to settle in the pockets of his slacks, giving him a humble appearance despite his imposing figure.

"But you like being called 'Bones' instead, don't you?" His gaze pierced directly through Temperance's eyes, reaching right into her very soul. "You would never admit to it out loud, but you get a pang of affection when you hear Agent Booth refer to you by it." Without waiting to see her reaction, J'onn turned to examine the doorway once again, this time peering at the wall immediately next to it. "And no, it wouldn't. Selective tracking systems are constantly being updated. It's as if the city knows what's essential and what isn't...almost like it's sentient."

The director of security glanced over his shoulder for a moment before continuing. "I was a Manhunter of Mars for 903 years. I was an intergalactic bounty hunter based out of Krypton for 42 years. On Earth I achieved the rank of police inspector before the Vietnam War was a gleam in the eyes of Ho Chi Minh. Believe me, Dr. Brennan, when I flatly say that I am more than a simple security guard." As always, his gravely voice remained even and calm, not once changing in pitch to reflect any potential hostility. "Do not confuse policing an entire city with guarding a mall, doctor."

[dr. temperance "bones" brennan]

Brennan could do little more than blink in stunned disbelief at hearing Booth's absurd nickname for her coming from this stranger. "Anthropologically speaking..." she countered, grasping at her words. Her brain was too preoccupied with trying to determine how he could possibly have known what Booth called her.

The teeny tiny part of her that was open to the explanation he had already offered whispered he really could see into her thoughts, but the larger, louder, and more rational side of her disagreed. She theorized he could have seen something on the press, or been around the courtroom during one of the trials she and Booth had been called in to testify.

She cleared her throat in an attempt to mask her moment of hesitation. "Anthropologically speaking, nicknames are a way to show acceptance of another person into a social hierarchy. It would not be irrational to assume one would possess fond emotions toward a given moniker."

She returned his gaze steadily; Brennan never backed down from a perceived challenge. J'onn was testing her somehow, something she could only vaguely pick up on. Not for the first time, Brennan wished she had a better understanding of people and emotions. She knew it meant something that his tone changed little - if at all - in inflection.

She shook her head and had to suppress an impulse to laugh aloud at his assertion that the city could be sentient. "Objects themselves hold no degree of sentience," Brennan argued. "Unless you are referring to a continually maintained computerized system of analysis, in which case I can understand the use of metaphor." She frowned. Detecting usage of figurative language in speech was one thing Brennan accepted she would continually be behind at.

Her frown deepened at J'onn's diatribe stating he was some kind of Martian in an effort to convince her he was "more than a simple security guard." Once again, he showed an unnerving ability to discern her thoughts without Brennan voicing them. She concluded he must be extremely adept at decoding subtle facial expressions. "You seem to possess higher than average intelligence, and yet you express genuine beliefs in scientific fiction. The notion that life exists beyond our atmosphere is plausible, I admit, but this fixation on visitation by beings of higher intelligence and technology does not stand against the facts."