All We Have Is Time

Summary: A difficult case to solve, a race against the clock and past back to haunt them, can it help Booth and Brennan, or will it only ruin their partnership completely? Only time will tell, and their time is short.

Disclaimer: I have many wonderful thoughts about what the show would be like if I owned the characters. Of course, they are only thoughts.

A/N: Darkness and angst ahoy! But you know me, I love my Booth and Brennan, so despite what you read, they'll get together. But there will be many obstacles before that happens. And probably guns. And you're probably going to hate me, but this fic will feature all our most favourite characters (AKA, David and Russ) plus a new one that you're going to kill me over. But don't worry; they shall be disposed of accordingly. This first chapter is kind of a prologue.

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Chapter One.

Winter was always fast in coming and slow in leaving. Wintry winds always remained and freezing rain was frequent. The last few weeks of January saw the lowest temperatures of the entire season, the ground every day coated in new snow, the stark white a blanket over the whole of DC.

Usually Brennan was an early riser, out of bed at six and out of the house by seven-thirty. But winter always delayed her normal routine, and she would allow herself to hide beneath her bedspread for a few minutes more, watching snow drift past the gap in her curtains as she worked up enough courage to drag herself out of bed and to her shower. The warm spray heated her all the way through, and she would reluctantly turn it off, dressing quickly and putting on slippers before padding into the kitchen to boil the kettle for coffee.

She'd watch out the window to the streets below and see people on their way to work, bundled in their coats, steaming coffee from the Starbucks down the road clasped in their numbing fingers as they made their way to work.

One particular morning saw her alarm clock fail to wake her. Always a sign the day was going to go wrong.

Her shower spat at her and eventually she gave up, deciding to wait until she got home from the lab to have a proper shower. She searched her cupboards after dressing; sure she had put the coffee granules in there somewhere until she remembered that she had run out the previous morning. She sighed and put some bread in the toaster, going into the bedroom and putting an extra top over the three she already had on while waiting for it to pop. It was uncharacteristically cold that morning, even in her apartment her breath misted slightly in front of her.

It was almost eight by the time she got out of the building and onto the snow-laden street, heading in the direction of coffee. Pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders, she started walking, thankful of the warmth of the coffee shop when she stepped inside it. She placed her order and checked her watch. She'd still be early to work, she always was, but the time she'd get there wasn't to her liking, she wanted an early start on the preliminary analysis of some new bones that had arrived late the previous night.

She thanked the young woman behind the counter as she grabbed her coffee, sipping it as she walked down the street, continuing on to the Jeffersonian as snow began to float to the ground all around her.

-

Angela thanked God for central heating as she arrived at work and walked in the doors of the lab, noting that Brennan's office was still dark, which meant the anthropologist hadn't turned up yet. For a second she worried, but then checked her watch and saw that she herself was earlier than usual, her faulty heater rousing her from sleep because of its lack of heat-making capabilities. She'd give Brennan ten more minutes before she would wonder where her friend had gotten herself.

Eight-fifteen saw the arrival of Brennan, switching on the light in her office and dropping her jacket on her couch. She sat at her desk and picked up the file that would soon contain information on the newest lot of bones she had received. Standing up again, she headed into the bones room and was greeted by a cheery Angela who asked her what had happened to make her almost half an hour later than she usually was.

"My alarm clock must have broken, I slept in. And I had to go to Starbucks since I ran out of coffee yesterday."

"You know Bren, there's this new thing everyone's talking about. It's called 'shopping' and I hear it can be real handy in no-coffee situations."

"Is that supposed to be a joke? Because people have shopped for goods for over-"

"Yes, Sweetie, it was a joke." Angela gave her friend a slightly exasperated smile before walking away to find a tissue. She was still getting over a winter cold and she was sniffing constantly, something that annoyed the hell out of her friend.

Zach and Hodgins arrived within fifteen minutes of Brennan, arguing and grumbling about the cold and how as soon as the snow graced the streets everyone seemed to forget how to drive.

A cursory examination of the bones revealed nothing remarkable, the person was male, almost eighty years old and had died of bone cancer. Why the bones had ended up without a coffin Brennan didn't know.

She didn't notice as Booth walked into the room and watched her from the doorway.

"Morning, Bones."

She jumped and looked at him, recognition changing her surprise into annoyance.

"Good morning, Booth. You know, you aren't in the army right now; you can actually make noise when you walk into a room. You startled me."

"Never my intention."

"Is there a reason why you're here? I'm assuming we have a case."

"Well as much as I'd like to say we don't, and this is purely a social call, I'd be lying if I did. We do indeed have a new case."

She waited for him to continue, but he only gestured for her to follow him.

She obliged, following him out the door and falling into stride beside him as they walked. She saw nothing on the lab table as they passed it and looked to Booth for an explanation.

"Take this off," he said, pulling at the collar of her lab coat as she stood in front of him.

She looked surprised, but undid the buttons of the coat and didn't protest as Booth pulled it from her shoulders, a shiver of warmth shooting up her spine as his hands brushed her back. He hung the coat on the railing of the stairs and put a hand on Brennan's shoulder to lead her out the door.

"Where exactly is this new case?" she asked, puzzled.

"You'll see."

He led her out the doors and around the back of the Jeffersonian. The ground was covered in snow; the only colour to be seen was the garish yellow of crime scene tape, right in the middle of the grounds.

"Welcome to your new case, right in your backyard."

"Booth, I don't have a backyard."

Booth sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes as they made their way across the hidden grass.

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A short chapter to kind of set the scene, I guess. I hope you like, I'm still sorting out the plot of it since it's a little hazy, but tell me what you think so far.