DISCLAIMER: I asked Santa for my own Special Agent. Guess I wasn't enough of a good girl....
SUMMARY: Spoilers to 1x09. The Man In The Shelter and S4 finale. The End In The Beginning (kinda). "Their first Christmas together could be summed up in one word: awkward."
WORDCOUNT: ~3150
THANK YOU: To Ares and Kairos, for the readthrough and the beta. *hugs*
FEEDBACK: Oh, please.
x-posted at 12_daysofficmas.
Written for oberskaya at Christmas Drabbling
ECHOES
by Leni
Booth was intent on reaching the highest rails of the Jeffersonian when he noticed his partner. Bones. Bones. Strange, weird, attractive Bones. She was sitting at the examination table, bent over the pieces of their latest case. Booth had to admit; he'd grown fond of her. Didn't hurt that the woman was pretty. Really pretty. Even if she frowned too much and didn't use two-syllable words.
But tonight he was wearing an elf's hat. Elves help Santa. Therefore Santa should help elves, too - it must be somewhere in the Christmas Eve manual.
And Booth would need all the help in the world if he was really intending to interrupt Dr. Temperance Brennan when she was trying to extract decades-old information out of a bone.
He almost pitied the poor bone.
Maybe he should save the bone. Booth knew what it was like to be dissected under Bones' inquisitive glare. Arousing, yes, but also definitely uncomfortable.
Yep, Special Agent Seeley Booth had a mission. He had to save the bone from this anthropologist's intent attention. If he had to shift that focus onto himself, so be it.
His job wasn't without sacrifices, after all.
And Bones was really pretty.
Shaking his head only made the shiny colored lights flare up. But this time they shaped a path down to the examination table. Hmmm…. Booth bound down the stairs, snatching at the sparkles. Bones, Bones, Bones, a part of his mind chanted. Gotta save the pretty bone.
He jumped up behind her, trying to catch one big spark to show it to her. It escaped him, and Bones didn't even react.
He jumped again, purposely landing with a heavier thud. Grinned, when she noticed him - but she wouldn't stop looking into the microscope.
Stubborn Bones. Always so stubborn.
Booth was twice that stubborn. Really. He just liked Bones' little smiles when he let her win. But not tonight. Because tonight was Christmas Eve day, both eve and a day, it was a Christmas miracle!
She barely looked up. "Still enjoying your medication, I see."
Oh yes. His medication. It was good medication. Talking to Bones was better, even if she would rather look at a little tiny bone.... He would have pouted; Parker always pouted when he wanted to catch his attention, and it always worked.
Bones never understood kids, though.
Booth didn't want to waste a good pout.
So he niggled, and pressed, and said all those things he'd been contemplating for the last weeks as everyone at the lab prepared for their Christmas holidays - except Bones.
"You don't seem too upset about missing Christmas."
Except she kind of did, once he mentioned it. But she didn't get mad, just a little sad somewhere around the corner of her eyes, and that made Booth feel even worse.
He would have apologized, somehow. Maybe he would have caught one of those shiny sparks for her. But Bones, stubborn Bones, had her eyebrows raised in that arch that edged between indulgence and exasperation, and she started rattling off the kind of information the average Grinch held as gospel.
Booth didn't mention that. He didn't feel like explaining that the Grinch was a Christmas killer.
Except he kind of called her that - a Christmas killer.
For a second, Bones stopped being amused, or indulgent, or even exasperated. She looked so cold and distant; wherever she had gone, it was a really messed up version of Christmas Day.
"It's the truth," she shot back a second later.
And because Booth had no idea what to apologize for (and those flying sparkles were too fast. Bones would probably stick his peace offering under her microscope, anyway), he did the next thing.
He tried his most charming smile, and didn't run away when Bones just stared back.
Oh well, Booth consoled himself. It wasn't as if Christmas could get any worse.
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Four years later, when Booth woke up and accepted it had all been a dream, he laughed as he realized that some things weren't meant to be changed.
He would always put his foot in his mouth.
She would always try to put some distance between them.
Their first Christmas together would always be summed up in one word: awkward.
xxx
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Seeley hadn't set foot in the police precinct since he and Cam broke up. They'd said they'd stay friends, and Seeley thought they did pretty well when talking about each other to common friends; but Cam's poker face needed work. Seeley had seen what she wouldn't say, and he didn't want to hurt her any more.
Ten months, and he hadn't come back here. Until the pest he had as a younger brother had teased and poked and threatened to tell everybody about how Margie Hoyt's mother had run twelve-year-old Seeley out of the Hoyt property, broom in hand and curlers still on her head, and thus ended Seeley's first great love.
Little brothers were such a pain in the ass.
So Seeley had agreed to go to the Christmas party at his brother's insistence, swearing revenge even as he tied the stupid knot of his stupid tie. He hated dressing up, especially when he didn't even have a date to impress.
Jarod had waved him over as soon as he stepped into the room. "Classy, Seeley," he laughed as he cocked an eyebrow at the signature belt his brother was wearing. "I guess I'll pass on filling my fellow men in on our wonderful childhood."
Seeley smiled tightly and landed a light punch on his brother's shoulder. Sometimes he envied Jarod's selective memory. "Point me to the open bar, brat." As Jarod's little smirk appeared, the older brother threw a second, and harder, punch. "I'll skin you for this."
"Lighten up, brother." Something that passed as a serious expression overshadowed Jarod's playfulness. "Rebecca wasn't the last woman on Earth. I still don't understand why you two got back together at all."
Because the sex was amazing. Which was not something Seeley would tell Jarod, brother or not. "Maybe she's the only woman I've dated that you didn't try to charm away," he said, half wishing it was a joke.
"Hey, hey, hey." Jarod raised his arms, and if he noticed Seeley's frown at the bottle in his right hand, he didn't let on. "Just testing them for you, man. If anything, you owe me. All the ones I bagged don't make up for the thrashing Saroyan put me through." His hazel eyes twinkled with mischievousness. "That one really liked you. Explain to me again why you 'chose different paths'." The inverted commas and the tilt in his smile suggested that Jarod had never believed that Seeley and Cam's break up had been a mutual decision.
It had been. If by mutual, one meant that one morning Cam had been waiting next to his coffee maker, and point blank asked if Seeley saw their relationship at least a couple years down the line. Trying to delay his answer hadn't been his smartest move; in his defense, Seeley was never very sharp so early in the day without his dose of caffeine.
Cam hadn't stormed out. She had walked away, and as he heard the front door click closed, Seeley had wished that he could find in himself the desire to run after her.
"Here comes the brooding," Jarod sing-songed. "You need this more than I do." He pressed the beer bottle in Seeley's hand, then chuckled at this brother's look. "No worries, big bro. There's more where that came from. I was teasing about the open bar." With that, he waved Seeley away. "Now go. Mingle. For God's sake, find yourself a woman. I've heard New Year is depressing without company."
Seeley watched his brother walk away, straight into the embrace of a pretty blonde. He wondered if he should ask about Jarod's new girlfriend at their next meeting, then laughed at himself. The woman would probably have been replaced by a brunette by next week - Lord knew his brother tired quickly of blondes and redheads. Well, more quickly anyway.
He took a swig from his bottle as he caught the eye of an old friend. There had been times when Seeley had scurried away from the man, enduring Cam's teasing that a ex Ranger would be frightened from a middle-aged Brit. Of course, Cam had never been pinned down by that pensive gaze that seemed to look into one's darkest corners and then spooked when the man offered tea. The cliché alone had sent Seeley running for the hills.
Tonight he had no choice. Were he to spend another five minutes on his own, Jarod would take pity of him and steer a line of women in Seeley's direction - just the thing he didn't need on Christmas Eve. "Gordon Gordon," he greeted the older man as he cut through the room to reach the precinct's psychologist. In order to avoid his little brother's version of holiday spirit, Seeley was willing to forget all the times he'd been cornered and analyzed within an inch of his sanity. "Leaving the actual partying to the younger people, eh?"
Dr. Wyatt smiled, with that hint of self-mockery that Seeley had never been able to copy. He'd finally given up, acknowledging that his character was too different, too self-assured, to take on such an attitude, no matter how useful it'd be to disconcert other people.
"Mr. Booth. It's been a long time." The two men shook hands. "Your brother mentioned you'd be leaving us soon."
Seeley nodded. For years, he'd been drifting through life. The FBI had looked tempting at the time, but after he got accepted into the program, Seeley had taken a hard look at himself and wondered if he could stomach any more violence. The same had happened when Jarod suggested he joined the force. He'd tried many other avenues; he'd even paged through some Psychology volumes after the first few times the good doc had read him like an open book. Seeley hadn't been fond of the technique; in fact, there might have been a threat of physical damage against Dr. Wyatt - an ill-advised action, since it had led to even closer scrutiny. But, truth be told, Seeley had been impressed; reading other people seemed such a useful tool - until Cam discovered the books at his bedside and, despite her pleasure in that he had seemed to have found his path, she pointed out that he already had a natural knack seasoned cops would kill for.
That had been the end of his interest in psychology.
Sadly, no other career had stepped forward to catch his interest. But now he had another focus. It had been Jarod who'd given him the idea, a couple weeks ago. "Seeley, buddy," his brother had sighed as he tapped the empty glass against the bar for a refill, "If I had the kind of time you've got, wild horses wouldn't keep me in D.C."
It had been decades since Seeley Booth had taken his little brother's advice, and the last time had ended with both teenagers taking antibiotics for almost a month. But this time there was no gloriously shaped Mina Lackey in the mix, so Seeley thought that there was no risk in taking a long trip.
Not India, as Jarod had suggested. Europe was a better fit, with London as the perfect starting point - Seeley had always been curious about the whole driving-to-the-left business, and after checking the car rentals online, there was an actual James Bond car with his name on it. Besides, it was a country full of Gordon Gordons that he could actually poke fun at without fearing that his every sentence was analyzed to its last comma. Perfect! "I'm thinking of staying abroad for a couple months, see what the world's got to offer."
Dr. Wyatt nodded. "Wise choice. May I suggest you add The Alps to your itinerary? Such a splendid sight; a man can't help but be touched by its calm beauty. If peace of mind is what you seek, Mr. Booth, rest assured that you'll find it there."
Peace of mind had not been in his plans. At least, not until now. Seeley shrugged one shoulder and lifted his almost empty beer to his lips to avoid telling the man not to make a study of him. The last time, he'd spent a month without cartoon-socks, and he'd missed them. It was Gordon's job, Seeley rationalized; Dr. Wyatt couldn't help it more than Seeley could have stopped running after that purse-snatcher last week. "I'll take that into consideration, Doc," he said in a light tone, "Maybe if there's space for extra warm clothes."
"If you take the right company, you won't need the extra weight," a feminine voice laughed, behind him. The brunette who had joined them was beautiful; she looked distracted as she balanced two glasses of whisky, so Seeley let his gaze roam over her. "My eyes are up here, bucko," she chastised with a laugh. Then she offered one of the glasses to Gordon and looped her free arm through his. "Friend of yours, sweetie?"
In the whole time they'd crossed paths, Seeley had never imagined that the older man could look so… smug. He chanced another appraising glance at the grinning woman - wow. Gordon had plenty reason to smile like the cat who snatched the canary and then was smart enough to present it as dinner for his lady love. With those tilted eyes, Dr. Wyatt's date would make a magnificent puss.
"Angela, this is Seeley Booth." Gordon waved between them. "Mr. Booth, Angela Montenegro."
Angela's eyebrow rose high, and her nose crinkled in barely disguised disgust. "Booth?"
Seeley held back a groan. He would kill Jarod. "Jarod was adopted. Really. I can show you the paperwork."
The woman gave him a long look, and Seeley had the sensation that her intuition was even sharper than Gordon's. Damn. If they made psychologists like her, maybe he should have stuck it out through the profession. "All right, Seeley Booth," Angela said, a playful tone in her voice, "I'd have never pegged a Booth with that bright red belt buckle - I'll give you a second chance."
Dr. Wyatt coughed, but his twinkling eyes betrayed his amusement.
Seeley bit down the complaint that he'd never had a first chance at all. "Much appreciated," he said. "You're new here?"
Angela laughed. "Oh no." She waved a hand around the room. "Office hours make my skin crawl. Actually, it's my first time here. It's not so bad, though the colors are all wrong if you were trying to impose some respect in the visitors - never mind the delinquents; I bet they feel more comfy here than on the streets."
Seeley cocked his eyebrow.
Gordon nodded, shifting his position so he could put his arm around Angela's shoulders. "We've discussed that the original design may not match its current purpose," he agreed. "But I've pointed out that such a positive instinctual response to the environment might help the investigations."
Angela shrugged, clearly not interested, and tapped Gordon's arm in wordless indulgence. "Anyway, once I heard about the party, I had to bring Gordon along. Not that I don't love your place, sweetie," - she smiled at her date - "but we can postpone the romantic dinner for tomorrow. Don't you think, Mr. Booth?"
"Seeley," he corrected, forcing his lips into a neutral smile. This was the most beautiful, interesting woman he'd met since Rebecca, but Seeley Booth had boundaries. Having watched many romantic interests be swayed by his brother's easy manners, Seeley wasn't about to repeat Jarod's actions. Therefore, no matter how attractive Miss Montenegro was, he would not flirt with Gordon Gordon's date. No matter how annoying the man could be.
"Hm." Angela was clearly not sure about calling another man by his first name when her date was right there. She turned to Gordon, and grinned at his easy expression. Even Seeley could see that Dr. Wyatt didn't care what his date called him; the psychiatrist was better acquainted with Seeley's self-imposed boundaries than Seeley himself. "Booth, then." At the men's puzzled look, she went on to explain. "Old boyfriend named Seeley - what are the chances, huh? It ended…." Her wince was almost imperceptible. "…rather messily."
He'd only met her for ten minutes, but Seeley could bet that his namesake hadn't been the only broken heart left in Angela Montenegro's wake. "That works. This means I can call you…?"
"Angela!"
The young woman disentangled herself expertly from Gordon's embrace. "Sweetie!" She beamed at someone behind Seeley. "You made it!"
Seeley turned around, and found himself almost nose-to-nose with a frowning woman. "Hello," he whispered. Her features weren't as graceful as Angela's, but there was something about that adorably upturned nose that had Seeley staring at her much longer than it was polite.
"Ehem," Gordon coughed, breaking Seeley's thrall.
The newcomer never noticed. Without checking her stride, she walked up to Angela with an annoyed huff. "You said you'd wait for me at the entrance. I don't understand why you would invite me here if you would rather be alone with your current romantic interest." She spared a quick nod to Gordon. "Good night, Dr. Wyatt."
Seeley blinked.
Angela's eyes widened as she covered her mouth with her free hand. "Oh my God, Bren. I'm so sorry! It completely slipped my mind."
"I'm afraid it was my fault, Miss Brennan." With an aggravated, and an apologetic female in their midst, it fell back to Gordon to make the introductions. "Let me present Mr. Seeley Booth, an old acquaintance. Mr. Booth, this is Temperance Brennan, Angela's…." The doctor floundered at that, throwing a quizzical glance at his partner.
"Bren's my newest boss, and the one who's employed me the longest, too." Angela grinned, even as she waved one of the waiters over. The man hurried over, and the four of them picked fresh drinks. "She was about to spend Christmas figuring out The Lab's taxes. Couldn't leave her to that, could I?"
"You work at The Lab?" Seeley wasn't going out much these days, but he remembered Rebecca mentioning the place a few days before their final break up. At the time, he'd thought that it was a shame that such a hotspot would be wasted in yet another dance-and-drink joint. Wonderful things could be done in such a central area, if you tapped into the interests of the customers. "The way business is going, you must be looking for a new job already, huh?" Behind him, Seeley heard Gordon make a warning sound that, in man-to-man speech, meant that he was heading straight to the gallows. "Um. Or maybe not. Because loyalty to the workplace is laudable…."
Seeley knew the sting of hopelessness in the frosty look Miss Brennan was directing at him. "I own The Lab," she said, throwing her shoulders back as if she was ready for a fight.
Yikes. Gordon and Angela took a surreptitious step back, making clear that Seeley was on his own to clean up this mess. The thing was, Seeley was not used to making a fool out of himself in front of pretty ladies. "Um…." He tried his most charming smile. "I'm sorry?"
The woman's cold stare stated that, if that was an attempt at an apology, she was unimpressed.
Oh well, Seeley consoled himself. It could only go uphill from here.
The End
04/01/10