AN: This has been sitting around for a bit. In fact when I first went back to it, not really knowing *what* it was supposed to be, the only thing I'd written was the first sentence. So I added to it and this is the result. Takes place before the start of S9.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones. Nor do I own the lyrics to the song, Fire on the Mountain. Bones belongs to Fox and Hart Hanson and Co. While Fire on the Mountain belongs to Hanson.


Can we pick the pieces up
We're mending Babylon
Tryin' to right the wrong
Can we pick the pieces up

Live learn life love die dust gone

-Fire on the Mountain, Hanson

The bell jingled as the door of the diner opened, admitting a group of chattering workers from an office up the street. Their voices and laughter fading into the general din of noise that was the Royal Diner at lunch time.

Tucked into their usual table by the window, Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan sat in silence, neither looking at the other as they pretended to eat their lunches. Even the wait staff of the diner had noticed the thick tension that surrounded their favorite couple.

Few knew the truth, but all had opinions, which they whispered and debated between themselves in the kitchen between trips to tables for refills and orders.

Brennan stared out of the clear, clean glass of the window beside their table, watching the bustle of the people on the street, some with brightly colored shopping bags on their arms, others with briefcases.

A group of teenagers passed the window, dressed in the trendy fashions of youth, chatting noisily as they walked, exchanging the latest gossip and rumors.

Booth for his part was staring down at his plate, not really seeing the food there, though it was his favorite burger and fries. It seemed as of late that food was just something he ate to survive, not something he enjoyed.

However both partners were superstitiously watching the other from the corners of their vision, watching the way each pretended to be eating, to be engrossed in their meals. Whenever their eyes caught both would quickly turn away, going back to staring out the window or down at their plate.

When it seemed the tension would suffocate them, Brennan put her fork down, murmuring something about not really being hungry anymore and needing to get back to the lab, even though she'd not really touched the greenery spread around on her plate.

Booth tried to find a way to make her stay, to make her see that he was hurting too. The words would not come, sticking in his throat, choking him. Instead he just watched her gather her things, pushing her chair back with a loud scraping against the worn tiles and then she was gone with the next rush of customers coming through the doors of the diner.

Booth slumped back in his chair, anger and frustration warring for attention inside him. He wished he could just come clean to her, tell her the truth. But the truth was dangerous. The truth could lead to five innocent people losing their lives for no good reason. So instead he held his tongue, swallowed all the words and hoped and prayed that he would figure this all out soon.

Before he lost the most precious and important thing in his life.


So, thoughts? What did you think? Let me know in that lovely little box down there. You know you want to.