Disclaimer: I own nothing related to "Bones."

A/N: Apologies, but there won't be another chapter of Something So Right until next weekend. A family friend passed away this week, and I haven't really been in a writing mood. This has been written for almost two weeks, though, so I decided to put it up.

This is my response to the January Cullen's BullPen challenge. Enjoy, and please remember to review.

One Step Closer

He watched as she picked up flowery card after flowery card. "So, who's the card for, Bones?" he finally asked, tired of the store's Muzak.

"No one," she replied, avoiding his eyes and putting back yet another sub-par card.

"Uh huh," he said, picking out one at random and holding it up for her inspection.

"No," she murmured, studying it, "that one's not …" He nodded in understanding, replaced the card, and went back to his guessing game.

"Angela?"

"No."

"Ex-boyfriend?"

"What? No." She turned into the next aisle and he followed, dogging her heels, determined to get an answer. She could be stubborn, but so could he, and he knew how to play dirty.

"So, who is it?"

She picked up a card with a bumblebee on the front, read the joke inside, and rolled her eyes. "Let it go, Booth."

He sighed. "I could help you find a card if you told me who it was for. It'd get you back to the lab faster."

She gave him a dirty look and glanced back at the racks of cards. "I never would have left the lab if you hadn't dragged me out for lunch."

He waited.

"And it's for my favorite foster mother," she finally added, carefully not looking at him.

He studied her, thought a minute, and shrugged. "What does she like?" he asked, picking up a card and raising an eyebrow at the scantily clad woman on the front.

Bones glanced in his direction and gave him half a smile. "She likes gardening, flowers and vegetables and herbs. She's got a wicked sense of humor. And she loves Jeopardy, and corn beef hash, and babies."

"And forensic anthropologists?" he teased, because she was beginning to look a little freaked out.

She gave him a whole smile this time. "Yeah." She glanced around the store. "How are we supposed to find a card in here? It'll take hours to look at them all!"

He grinned at her. "You're looking at it scientifically, Bones. What you need to do is just kinda wander around until something catches your eye." He set off down the aisle, glancing left and right, and she followed, rolling her eyes.

He happened to spot a display of square cards, and there, in the middle, was the perfect card. He pulled it out (it was the last one – it was always the last one) and handed it to Bones.

The front was covered in glitter and said, "You're a human sparkler, you are." She read it and grinned. "Just like that, huh?"

He grinned back. "Just like that."


They were leaving the mall parking lot when he decided to push his luck. When it came to talking about her time in the foster system, Bones was extremely close-mouthed, but he was hoping to change that.

"So why was she your favorite foster mother?" He didn't look at her, but he could feel her body stiffen.

"Why do you want to know?" Obviously, the sharing mood she'd been in had disappeared. He was determined, though, to get some answers.

He gave her a look. "We're partners, Bones. We're supposed to tell each other things." He turned his attention back to the road. "I've told you a little about my past; it's time for you to reciprocate."

For the second time that day, he had her, and he knew it.

"I still have that shoe, you know," she said slowly, and it took a minute for the reference to click.

"The one where you wrote the names of all the foster homes you'd been in?"

She gave him a small smile. "That's the one. I had ten names written there in almost eighteen months."

He did some quick mental math. "That's about a month and a half in each home, right?"

She shrugged. "More time in some, less in others, but I was never anywhere for more than three months." She turned to look out the side window. "I was considered something of a problem child."

He hated hearing the pain in her voice, and without thinking he reached over and took her hand, squeezing gently. She squeezed back.

"And then my social worker ran out of patience and available homes, so they asked this couple if they would take me in. Thing was, Molly and Geoff were foster parents for babies, and only babies, because Molly had been a neonatal ICU nurse. They weren't used to teenagers; they usually got these little emergency babies – "

"What's an emergency baby?"

"Babies that need to be taken out of a home and put into foster care immediately, with little or no warning to the foster parents."

"Oh." Booth had never really thought about what happened to those kids, the ones whose parents were taken into police custody. He'd always assumed that they went to other family members, or into a temporary group home, or something like that. He mentioned this, and Bones shook her head.

"It takes time to find a legal guardian. Older kids do often go into a group home, but there are always too many children and not enough adults for babies. So they have emergency foster homes that are prepared to take these babies in and keep them until more permanent arrangements can be made."

He nodded in understanding. "Okay. So … Molly and Geoff were used to getting all these babies, and they were suddenly asked to take a teenager?"

"Exactly. And they agreed to do it, because … I guess they felt sorry for me, or they needed a challenge … but they agreed, and set up a room for me, and I moved in a few days later.

"And I don't think I was what they were expecting. Because I never deliberately caused trouble at any other foster home. I was just myself – quiet and always studying and not really making friends with anyone there."

She tried to pull her hand away, but Booth kept hold, knowing that no connection was her way of trying to protect herself. She didn't need to protect herself from him.

"And Molly and Geoff were surprised, but they never pushed me into talking about my day or my feelings or anything. As long as I did well in school and helped out around the house, they left me alone." Off Booth's look, she added, "they didn't ignore me or anything. They just knew that I needed my space, that I preferred to not discuss my day and my friends or anything like that. They were the best thing for me, after having my parents back, of course."

"So what changed? You wouldn't be buying Molly a birthday card just because she let you be you. I do that, and you didn't get me anything for my birthday."

He'd meant that last comment to be a joke, but Bones gave him a hurt look. "I was in New Orleans, Booth. I got you something when we got back, didn't I?"

He hastened to reassure her. "Yes, you did, and I still love it." She'd bought him an old, broken down, '65 Mustang, and when he'd tried to complain about how much it must have cost her, she'd just shrugged and muttered something about her earrings and being nice.

The car was almost fixed up enough to drive. When it was finished and he had plates on it, he planned to take her away for a day and let her drive.

"Anyway," she said, bringing him back, "it was a birthday present from Molly that made her someone I liked."

"But you hate getting presents for your birthday. Angela told me!"

She snorted. "I hate presents when they're from Ange and they're male strippers. And I don't like having people make a big deal out of my birthday, but I wouldn't complain too much if someone bought me chocolate." She grinned at him, and he grinned back.

Maybe the car would be ready by her birthday.

"So what did Molly get you?"

"A new Honors Chemistry book."

And he could see why that would make her happy, but seriously? A new science book?

He must have looked confused, because Bones grinned at him.

"It wouldn't have been such a big deal, but the state would only pay for new books at the beginning of the school year. And I'd, um, dropped my chemistry book in the mud, so it was hard to read, and I'd been checking various chemistry books out from the library so I could study and get my homework done."

"Okay, so I can see why you'd want a new book, but what's the big deal? They ask you what you want for your birthday, you tell them, you get it."

"But they didn't ask me. I never mentioned my birthday and neither did they. And I never said anything about my chemistry book. Molly just … noticed and bought me a new one. And while I appreciated the book, I appreciated the thought even more."

She turned her head and looked at him. "Do you know what it's like to receive a cheap, thoughtless gift from someone who gives it because they feel they have to, not because they want to? It cheapens your whole birthday. That's why the book made Molly my favorite; the only one I ever liked, really."

Bones looked away again. "Well, it was the main reason, anyway. There were things that happened after my birthday that strengthened our bond, but from that point on I felt as though Molly understood me." She paused. "I still don't know why she gave it to me, though."

He pulled up outside the Jeffersonian. "Maybe she thought you were worth it."

She tried to pull her hand away, preparing to gather her things and not meet his eyes, but he kept hold until she finally looked at him.

"Because you are worth it, Bones, and so much more."

Her blue eyes went big, and he knew she was about to pull away and leap out of the SUV, purse and card be damned, but she surprised him by keeping their hands clasped and tugging him close.

"Thank you, Booth," she whispered, and kissed him.

His mind was still reeling from the wonderful sensation of her soft lips on his when she gathered her things and left the car, turning back to give him a wave and the sexiest grin he had ever seen.

As he started the car, he made two resolutions. One: get the damn Mustang finished by her birthday. And Two: find a copy of that chemistry book.