It looks like the rest of this story will be unbeta'd, so apologies for any errors. And before anyone asks, yes I'm British, so if anything sounds slightly odd, it's probably British!

I'll be updating this regularly now, as I'm out of town next weekend and I want to get this finished before I go.

Booth was hungry. He'd been running from place to place all day without making much progress, and he was starting to feel frustrated. Still, at least he had Bones to keep him company over dinner. He held the door open for her as they entered the diner. The place was nearly empty, just a couple whispering to each other and holding hands under the table at one end, and what looked like a father and son at the other. Booth looked at the boy, who must have been around seven or eight, and wondered wistfully if he would make it home in time to take Parker out on the Sunday as planned. He said as much to Brennan.

"Well, it's Friday evening," she pointed out. "If we can figure out who's responsible and go and arrest him tomorrow, you might just make it in time, but to be honest, I think probability of such a fast success rate is slim."

"Thanks, Bones, you really make me feel better," Booth scowled, sitting at an empty table roughly in the middle of the room. From where he sat he could watch the boy tucking into fries and chatting to his father. He thought again about Rebecca, and what he could do. He could think of very little he hadn't already tried over the years. Rebecca knew his threats to take her to court were hollow; they both knew that he could not put Parker through the pain of his parents fighting over him. But was she too aware of this? Maybe he should fight a little harder, show Parker he was worth fighting for.

He was brought back to the present by a kick under the table. "Ow!" He looked up to see Bones grinning at him. She had sat down opposite, placing her laptop bag on the spare seat beside her, and was watching him with amusement.

"Want to order some food before you get lost in your thoughts?" she suggested.

Booth noticed that Sally the waitress was hovering beside him, and apologized. He ordered steak and fries, thinking of the meal the boy was tucking into so eagerly, while Brennan ordered a chicken and pasta dish. By unspoken agreement, they never discussed cases while waiting for food, so they talked about nothing in particular until their meals arrived. Brennan looked over at his plate. "Hey, nice fries." She reached over and helped herself.

"Hey, that's my food! Eat your own!" In vain, Booth tried to protect his food. In the end, he gave up and went for the offensive instead, taking a forkful of Brennan's pasta. She immediately scowled at him and withdrew to move her plate out of reach, and he laughed.

"See, Bones, if you give it, you've gotta be able to take it," he said smugly.

"Okay," she said, reaching for another couple of fries. But this time he was too fast.

Eventually they settled down to eat their own meals, still laughing. Booth was vaguely aware that the boy had finished eating and had started playing with a toy car on the table, driving it in and out of the plates. Tiring of the small space, he fetched a small bouncy ball out of his pocket and started rolling it, then throwing it gently and catching it. Suddenly he missed it, and the ball caught the edge of the table, bounced off at a strange angle, and bounced again on the floor. It rolled along, reaching just to Booth's feet.

The boy approached them timidly, and Booth smiled at him, trying to reassure him. "Here you go," he said, bending down and picking up the ball. He held it out to the boy, whose eyes were wide. Booth noticed that his jacket had swung open, revealing the gun he wore in a holster on his left hip.

The boy shook his head, looking scared, then ran back to his dad. "Dad, Dad, that man's got a gun!" he said, pointing over his shoulder back at Booth.

Booth exchanged glances with Brennan, who looked amused, then stood up and walked over to where the man was looking very nervous and was starting to gather up the few things remaining on the table ready for a hasty departure.

"It's all right, sir, I've got a badge to go with it," Booth reassured him, pulling his FBI badge off his belt to show it. "I'm an FBI officer." If anything, the father looked even more nervous. Booth held out the ball for the boy, who reluctantly took it, then looked at his dad.

His dad nodded, avoiding his eyes. "Come on, Mikey," he said curtly. "We've got to go."

"Dad, he's a real cop!" said Mikey, enthralled by the badge.

"Yes, now come on."

Dragging his heels, the small boy was pushed out of the diner in front of his father, who gave a last uneasy look over his shoulder as he left.

A little hurt, Booth went back to his seat. Brennan met his look with a smile of sympathy. "Looks like no-one wants to be around a cop tonight," she remarked.

Booth shook his head. "I'm starting to get a complex," he complained. "I'm the good guy. They shouldn't be scared of me."

"Maybe they've got a guilty conscience," Brennan suggested jokingly.

Booth shook his head. "Let's just eat, then head for the hotel," he said. "I want to go through everything again. I'm sure we're missing something."

"Maybe the others have found something," Brennan said. "If they haven't called by the time we've finished eating I'll give them a call, get a progress report."

Booth nodded glumly, and they finished their meal in silence, both deep in thought. Brennan had just taken her phone out of her pocket to phone the lab, when it started ringing. "That was good timing," she commented, answering it. She listened intently, asked a few questions, then hung up and looked at Booth. "We have an identity on the third body," she said. "And the second one too."

Hope you're still enjoying the story! You know how to let me know your thoughts, don't you?