I need to add an extra disclaimer here: I don't own the characters, and am gaining nothing from this except the experience of writing (and hopefully some reviews!). Also, this is set in a real place, and the buildings (and the public transport service!) exist. However, all the characters that are not the property of Kathy Reichs and/or Fox Studios are original and invented by me, and are in no way related to any real person, living or dead.

Lefevre led them at a brisk pace along the road, until they met the main street through the town. There, under the shadow of the massive castle, they found rails set into the roadway next to a church. "Our tram system," he explained with a smile. He placed a card in the machine that stood by the tram stop, pressed a few buttons, and then handed them a card ticket each. "Tram tickets. You stamp them on each tram or bus, and you can go anywhere in town," he explained. "I am pleased to supply you with cards to use during your stay in my town, courtesy of the coroner's department."

Booth took his card and looked it over. "Twisto," he said in amusement.

Lefevre nodded. "It is our public transport. It is the pride of our town. Far easier than using a car," he said, indicating as a tram rounded the corner and approached the stop.

They got onto the tram, fed the tickets in the machine as Lefevre showed them, then settled down in the comfortable seats. A female voice announced "Prochain station Quatrans," as the tram moved smoothly forwards. A few stops later the voice was announcing "prochain station CHU," and Lefevre rose to his feet, cradling the box with the skull in one arm as he balanced himself with a handle. He stepped off as the doors slid open, and the three of them stood on the platform as the tram moved off again.

Opposite the station was a large parking lot. But instead, Lefevre led them out of the station, and towards a large imposing building. Booth recognised it as a hospital; there was no mistaking that smell of antiseptic that came from the large revolving doors. A nurse in a white uniform walked past them as they entered the large lobby. "This is the Centre Hospitale Universitaire," he announced proudly. "It is a teaching hospital. The coroner's office and mortuary are based here."

Corridors and elevators followed in bewildering sequence, until Lefevre was using a security card to unlock a room Booth recognized immediately from his association with the Jeffersonian team as a mortuary. Brennan, of course, walked forward as if she owned the place. Lefevre indicated a table where a set of bones was laid out, missing only the skull. He carefully removed the skull from its box and laid it in its place on the table. Brennan moved around, picking up bones and examining them carefully, then replacing them and choosing another to examine.

"Ah - can I get a coffee anywhere?" Booth asked, feeling superfluous.

Lefevre raised his head from its hunched position long enough to give directions to the nearest coffee machine, then turned his attention back to Brennan and the bones. Booth shrugged and left the two of them alone, her auburn hair almost touching his silver hair as they bent over the table and a folder full of photos.

Booth gave them an hour, then went back to the mortuary and lab. Brennan was seated before a microscope, carefully selecting a slide from a collection to her left, holding up to the light and squinting at it, then sliding it carefully under the retainers and adjusting the focus as she peered through the eyepiece. As he watched, she reached across and picked up a pen, and scribbled something on a pad of paper to her right hand, then replaced the slide with a different one, adjusted that, then examined it closely again and made more notes. She impatiently pushed her hair back behind her ears in the gesture he loved, then glanced up, suddenly noticing him.

He smiled at her, slipping into the seat beside her. "Find anything?"

She indicated the pile of photos on the desk next to the microscope. "Take a look at those," she invited.

Booth picked them up and flicked through them. They showed a body, almost reduced to skeletal remains, situated on what looked to be a bare wooden floor. He studied the different angles, and then looked at her. "What's the verdict?" he asked, half jokingly.

Brennan pushed her bottom lip out slightly, looking deep in thought. "She died from a head injury," she said firmly. "That's all I can say for certain so far. The injury doesn't seem consistent with a blunt instrument, it's more consistent with heavy contact with the floor. The question is whether the force of the blow can be accounted for by falling, or whether extra force was required to inflict the damage. I'm just studying the bone formation, to see if there is any weakness that might account for the level of injury."

"So we're not going for that meal out yet?" Booth tried not to sound jealous. He knew exactly what Brennan was like. The idea that he could expect her to leave a case to go and enjoy herself was unlikely, and yet he couldn't help feeling a little put out that she was so eager to work on what should have been their weekend together, away from it all.

"Sorry." She shot him that smile that he never could resist. "I just want to run a couple more tests, take some more measurements. I won't be long, I promise."

He sighed. "I suppose it can't wait until tomorrow?"

Brennan considered this as she ran her hands through her hair, then tied it back in a ponytail. "I want to courier the bones to the Jeffersonian," she said. "There are more tests they can run. But I want to get as much as I can from them before they go. I'll be finished in an hour."

Beaten, Booth looked through the photos again. He found some shots of the exterior of a building. Lefevre came over and leaned on the desk, pointing at the photos. "It is an apartment building," he explained. "Five floors. The body was found on the fourth floor, near to the stairs. The building itself is on the Rue Louis Robillard, not far from the other end of the tram line we just rode on. There is a shopping area nearby, and it is a busy road, with lots of traffic both in vehicles and on foot, but the building was boarded up and as far as we could see no-one had gained access to it, although the local garcons - the boys - broke into a similar building across the road and were using it as a drug den. The whole area is part of a renovation program. All the buildings apart from this one have been demolished during the previous six weeks, and this one was being checked prior to demolition when the body was discovered. It was declared a crime scene at least until the point where I could rule on cause of death, but unless I can come up with some reason to delay it, the building will be knocked down on Monday morning. The president of the quartier is anxious that all building work go ahead as soon as possible. He is eager to have the quartier improved very soon."

"Have the police run a missing persons check?" Booth asked, drawn in to the case in spite of himself.

"Yes, bien sur, mais nothing was found. There are no missing persons from the time and area that fit the description. And if we widen the area, of course there are many, and no way to tie them to the body. That is why I asked for the assistance of your Dr. Brennan. If we cannot solve the mystery of this girl's death, at least we may be able to identify her and let her family know what happened to her."

It was late into the night before Brennan finally pushed her chair away from the desk and sighed deeply. "That's it, there's nothing more I can do," she declared.

Booth, who had been engrossed in trying to coax his small knowledge of French to give up the information contained in the case folder, looked up. "Dinner?" he asked hopefully.

She smiled over at him. "Just got to arrange a courier," she said. "I'll send this to the others; they should be able to run more tests. I want Hodgins to check on bone structure, see if we can get a location for the victim, and Angela can run some scenarios, check whether it's more likely to have been accident or force." She looked wistful, and Booth jumped in quickly before she could suggest going back early to help them out.

"I'll have a word with Lefevre, see if he can sort out a courier for us," he said, moving towards the other office, where the coroner was busy with some paperwork.

The courier was soon arranged, and Booth came back into the lab to find Brennan standing up and easing her shoulders. "Actually, Booth, I'm really tired," she said quietly. "Do you mind if we leave the dinner until tomorrow night, just grab a quick bite and then sleep?"

Disappointed, Booth nodded. "I guess," he said. She did look tired. Or was she just trying to avoid him? Maybe she had changed her mind about their relationship.

Booth dismissed his fears as paranoia brought on by extreme tiredness, jet lag and the after effects of his shoulder wound, but still he found it difficult to walk out of the hospital and on to the tram with Brennan without contrasting the afternoon and evening with his expectations of the event. Even by the time they both settled in bed, Brennan having spent rather a long time in the bathroom, he could not decide whether everything had gone wrong in their relationship before it had even got anywhere.

Feel free to tell me about what works and what doesn't work - consider yourselves my teachers, and help me to learn how to write stories that capture your attention and imagination.