A/N at end.

Brennan hums Jingle Bells to herself as she twists the fairy lights around the branches, making sure to keep the lights equidistant from each other so the tree is evenly covered. Satisfied with their placement, she picks out a length of red tinsel from the cardboard box on her desk and similarly loops it round the small Christmas tree she'd decided to buy this year. While she is still an Atheist and she is well aware Jesus wasn't even born on December 25th, since being in relationship with Booth and the birth of their two perfect children, she's found herself becoming quite fond of the (albeit ridiculous and over-the-top) holiday season. Thus, her office is getting decorated this year, obnoxious Christmas tree, snowflakes-in-the-window and all.

She smiles softly as she hangs the baubles from the ends of the branches, most of which were made by Christine at school. Her teacher had them paint star-, angel and tree-shaped decorations to take home but Christine had insisted on Brennan using them to show off to all the "super smart people and Auntie Angela" at work. Beside one of Christine's brightly coloured creations, Brennan hangs a blue sphere with the words "Baby's 1st Christmas" printed on it, a gift from her father the year before, along with an ice skate Booth must have snuck in the box and a snowman she finds particularly cute.

The tree now adorned with festive memorabilia, Brennan turns to the rest of her office. She hangs tinsel along the walls, replaces her standard year-round cushions to ones with Father Christmas and reindeer stitched onto them and sticks the paper snowflakes her daughter had cut out the night before onto her windows.

She's admiring her work when she feels a pair of familiar hands circle her waist and pull her towards an equally familiar body.

"Hi, Booth," she says, glancing at him over one shoulder.

"Hey, Bones," he replies affectionately with a kiss to her cheek. "Decorations look great."

She grins, pride seeping into her tone. "I know. Thank you."

"You missed something though."

She spins around fully at his words. She had been quite thorough when emptying the box; she's always thorough. Just as she is when she's examining a set of remains, cataloguing every injury or bone anomaly whether relevant to the current case or not, Temperance Brennan never misses anything. Her husband's assumption is not only erroneous, but also highly offensive. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you forgot the pièce de resistance," he responds in a lousy French accent. He lets her go for a second, retrieves a paper bag from outside her office door, and returns to stand in front of her.

"What is it?"

Booth smirks. "Guess."

"Booth, no-."

"You have to guess, Bones. They're the rules."

"There are no rules," she argues defiantly, craning her neck to see the contents of the bag, but her husband infuriatingly dodges it out of the way at the last second.

"Nice try," he teases. "No peaking until you at least try to work it out. C'mon. You're supposed to be a genius."

"I am a genius."

"I know. That's why you should be able to give it a guess."

She huffs in annoyance and crosses her arms over her breasts. "And if I don't?"

"No Santa Claus for you this year."

"Booth," she deadpans, rolling her eyes. "You know I don't believe in that fictitious overweight male with a white beard and red coat who can apparently deliver presents to all the children in the world in one night, the idea of which is quite simply absurd-."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Ok, that's more of a punishment for Christine and Hank. Um… I know. No guess, no more seeing me naked."

"We live together, Booth. I see you naked all the time."

"All right, fine. No more bath time for the next week."

Brennan falters and a jubilant expression spreads across Booth's face. She clears her throat. "I can go without sharing a bath tub for a week," she says unconvincingly.

"Two weeks," he challenges and can see the exact moment his wife resigns.

"Fine. Fine. You win. Is it a ridiculous headpiece like a Santa hat or reindeer antlers that you want me to wear around the lab?"

"Nope, but that's a great idea."

"Is it another Philadelphia Flyers decoration?"

"Another excellent idea, Dr. Brennan, but I'm afraid you're incorrect."

"Just tell me," she whines, becoming irritated.

A broad smile on his face, he pulls a sprig of green with a red bow tied at one end. He attaches it to the ceiling and then looks down at his wife, his dark eyes sparkling.

"Mistletoe," she murmurs, her cheeks pinking a little. "Do you remember…"

"Absolutely. I walked into your office for a perfectly innocent chat with my partner when you planted one on me and said it was like kissing your brother."

She crinkles her nose up in disgust, thinking about how bad that sounds now. Kissing Booth is definitely not like kissing her brother. Not that she would know what that felt like as she and Russ have never… she's never thought about… Anyway. "I was flustered," she tells him, rolling her eyes as he puffs up his chest with pride. "I remember you being pretty flustered too, Mr."

"Yeah, well, that kiss was hot. You were hot. Still are, in fact." He snakes his arms back around her middle and tugs her towards him so they're only inches apart.

"I assume you bought me Mistletoe for my office in order for us to recreate that kiss from all those years ago?"

"Ding ding ding! Bones wins!" He licks his lips in anticipation, his eyes darkening. "So, are you up for it?"

"Hmm. Let me think…"

Catching him by surprise just as she had done last time they were in this position, she presses her lips to his, her hands grasping at the lapels of his suit jacket. He kisses back fervently, tightening his hold on her waist. She slips her tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss. It goes on much longer than the time before, neither wanting it to end. Oblivious to the shocked audience of interns and lab techs outside her office, they finally break apart, both looking extremely turned on.

"Better than last time?" Brennan asks, looking up at him heatedly from beneath her lashes.

"Definitely. Want to get out of here?"

"We could do it here," she suggests coyly, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck. "I mean… I have window shades for a reason…"

In lieu of response, Booth tugs off his tie and hurries over to the window and closes the shades, darkening the previously well-lit room. Unbuttoning his pale blue dress shirt his wife loves on him, he stumbles over to her sofa and she straddles him, undressing herself just as eagerly.

"Merry Christmas to me," he declares gaily, before pressing a scorching kiss to her lips and losing himself in the feeling of his wonderful wife's hands everywhere.

A/N: This story was very spur of the moment and since I've been having a really frustrating bout of writer's block for the last two months I just wanted to upload it real quick before I could pick a million holes in the writing and delete it all. Forgive me if there are a few typos/things I've missed in the edit, but I'm rusty.

As well as the horrible, horrible, horrible writer's block, I've also started my first semester at University, which is both exciting and terrifying. I'm really enjoying my course so far and I get on better with my flatmates than I could have ever imagined – it feels like we've been friends for years rather than 10 weeks. Unfortunately, I've been super busy and I've gone from having writing time every single today to it being almost non-existent. With Christmas and then January exams rapidly approaching, I'm not so sure I'm going to find writing time again anytime soon. I do plan to finish my current WIPs, I just don't know when right now. Hopefully you can bare with me and this little Christmas-y one-shot will be enough for now.

Please leave a review if you liked this story. Thank you :)