A/N: Okay, this one's a little different for me--I haven't done an all-encompassing Bones piece before this (they were all strictly one or two character set-ups) and I'm a little worried that my ideas didn't translate well from my head to my computer. But I could be wrong ;-)
Anyway, one quick note before you read. This is, in accordance with the CBP Challenge for this month, a holiday-party story, which should take place someplace fun and, well, party-like. But for some reason when I pictured it happening, all I saw was the lab no matter how hard I tried not to. So that's the way this is written, even though I can only imagine the consequences of having a party in a science lab (Hodgins...around chemicals and...alcohol? yikes!). It is also written within the context of the show, and so has mild spoilers through season 3. Everything else is--hopefully--self-explanitory.
Enjoy!
Camille Saroyan stood at the snack table helping herself to a glass of what the Jeffersonian was passing off as egg nog at the annual holiday party when she felt a presence beside her.
"Ah, Dr. Saroyan," the Jeffersonian's director smiled. "How are you this evening?"
Damn. Didn't even see him comin'. Cam returned his smile. "Dr. Goodman. I'm doing just fine. You?"
"Good, good," he replied smoothly. "Have you settled in to your new office yet?"
She nodded. "Pretty well, yeah."
"And the job? Have you settled into that as well?"
Cam smirked. "You mean Dr. Brennan?"
Dr. Goodman suppressed a frown. "Yes, I suppose I do."
"Well," she hedged, "let's just say there's been some give and take."
He chuckled a bit at that. "Knowing Dr. Brennan, you've probably done most of the giving. Not that you are by any means weak-willed…"
She nodded and was about to answer when a movement across the room caught her eye and her gaze was diverted to Seeley Booth, standing with his partner and grinning cheerfully. You have no idea.
"Come on, Bones," he cajoled, trying to coax an equally cheerful smile from Temperance Brennan. "That joke was hysterical."
"If by hysterical you mean trite and not at all funny, then yes Booth, it was hysterical," she told him, rolling her eyes.
"Trite?" he asked. "Not at all funny? Seriously? Where's your sense of humor!" Spotting Jack Hodgins hurrying toward the pair, he pounced on the unsuspecting Squint. "Hodgins! You gotta hear this joke…it's great! Okay, a priest, a rabbi, and a forensic anthropologist walked into a bar…"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah…look, I have something way more important than some tired old joke," Hodgins interrupted, looking from one to the other. "I'm on a mission, and I need your help."
"Our help?" Brennan asked. "What mission?"
He took a deep breath and puffed his chest out proudly, his eyes sparkling both with pure joy and stark terror. "I'm going to tell Angela I love her."
"Now?" Brennan wondered. "Here? At the Christmas party?"
Hodgins nodded, the expression on his face softening. "Yeah, here. I just…feel like I need to make some kind of big, grand gesture to make her really understand how I feel about her. Even after our amazing date, I don't think she fully comprehends how much she means to me, and the holidays are all about being with the ones you love, so I figured it's the perfect time. Booth, you know what that's like, right?" His eyes flickered back to the FBI agent. "You just know you're meant to be with someone, and you'll do everything in your power to make them see it." He paused, thinking over his choice of words before adding slowly, "In a non-stalker-y sort of way."
"Yeah," Booth conceded. "I do know what that's like." Then he heaved a melodramatic sigh. "Fine. But I'm not doing anything that involves Angela grabbing my ass again…"
Hodgins rubbed his hands together, oblivious of the last remark. "I need you to hang this mistletoe," he produced a sprig from his pocket and covertly passed it off to Brennan, "in Angela's office."
"That's all?" Brennan asked, noting Booth's relieved expression.
"That's all," Hodgins replied, the eager grin returning to his face.
With a quick glance at his partner, Booth decided. "We can do that."
"Thank you," the entomologist told them both genuinely. "And make sure she doesn't see you…"
He disappeared quickly with an air of Mission: Impossible about him that made Booth chuckle. "Hodgins sure is a strange one…" He stopped mid-thought, noting the odd look on Brennan's face. "Bones? You okay?"
"Yeah," she replied quickly, brushing him off. "Let's just go hang this mistletoe."
He allowed her to stride purposefully toward Angela's office, lagging behind her, then pretending for the benefit of anyone watching to suddenly remember he needed to talk to her again.
When Booth appeared in the office doorway, he found his partner scanning the ceiling, the peculiar expression still on her face. He entered the room, moving toward her with an outstretched hand. "Hey," he called softly, squeezing her shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," she answered, brushing him off.
The hand slid from her shoulder down her arm and squeezed affectionately again. "Something is wrong," he insisted. "Come on, Bones, I know you. I can tell when something's on your mind. What is it?"
Her blue eyes met his brown ones and she sighed, dropping her gaze to the floor. "It's just…Hodgins is so excited and scared about this declaration of love he's going to make to Angela, and I hope things work out for them, but…" She paused and sighed again. "But no one's ever felt that way—that strongly—about me."
I do. Booth suddenly went cold all over at the startling thought and prayed that his face didn't give him away.
"I don't even know if love exists," Brennan continued, unaware of her partner's reaction. "In fact, I'm quite sure that it doesn't—not in the fairy-tale way everyone else seems to believe, anyway. But if it does, then that's what Angela and Hodgins have—or will have if his 'grand gesture' works. And I'm…I'm a little…well, jealous I suppose, because I've never had that."
"You will," he reassured her in a barely audible voice. Clearing his throat, he tried again, this time more firmly. "If that's what you want, Temperance, you'll have it."
"But how do you know?" she questioned.
He cracked a smile and tried to chuckle. "It's what I do, remember? I read people. That's my part of our job, and I'm good at it. So you have to trust that I know what I'm talking about."
That brought a small smile to her lips and a sparkle to her eyes. "I trust you."
"Good," he grinned, shaking off the remainder of the emotion that had gripped him so suddenly. "Then let's get this mistletoe hung up before Angela comes in her and catches us…"
Booth secured the bundle to the middle of the doorframe, balanced precariously on a chair while Brennan acted as lookout. The task completed, the pair snuck back to the party, hoping no one noticed their absence.
"Dr. Brennan!" a voice called when they were halfway down the hallway.
"Zack!" she squawked back, clasping a hand to her chest. "You scared me!"
"Sorry," he apologized, halting in his tracks. "I was just looking for you, and couldn't find you anywhere."
"Damn," Booth muttered under his breath. "Someone did notice we were gone."
Zack noticed that, too. "Did you say something Agent Booth?"
"No," Booth said aloud. "It was nothing. So what did you need?"
"Well, I was looking for Dr. Brennan to ask her to dance. I'm told that dancing with someone is a way to express closeness and affection for that person. We have a DJ here at the party, and I wanted to dance with Dr. Brennan to convey my own gratitude toward and appreciation of her." He turned his attention to his thesis advisor and smiled a charming little-boy smile. "I actually finished my doctorate, and I would have never been able to do it without you. A dance isn't much, but I know you're not really into celebrating this holiday, and I thought it would be a nice gesture in place of a commercial representation of my feelings."
"You mean a gift?" Booth mocked, eyebrows raised sarcastically.
Brennan's smile perked up at the offer. "Don't listen to him, Zack. It is a nice gesture. And I accept."
She took his offered arm and returned with him to the festivities, leaving Booth to wander back on his own, puzzling over the effect her words had on him in Angela's office.
The moment of pondering didn't last long, though, as Cam swooped in as soon as he reappeared in the crowd. "Dance with me," she grinned, taking his arm and leading him toward the makeshift dance floor.
"Dance with you?" he repeated, smiling and putting up little resistance.
She nodded her head and eyed him insistently. "Yes. Dance with me."
He laughed lightly and took her in his arms, subconsciously hoping it would keep him from dwelling any further on his partner. "Okay, you talked me into it." They moved deftly around the dance floor, concentrating on nothing but each other until Booth spied Hodgins leading Angela toward her office. He immediately began searching the crowd for Brennan, signaling her with his eyes that the moment had arrived.
Cam mutely witnessed the exchange and sighed internally. There's something going on between them tonight, she thought. But that isn't that unusual is it? There's always something going on between them. Even when he's with me, he isn't all with me.
Her musings were interrupted by Booth's voice in her ear. "Camille? Hello…"
"Yes, Seeley, I'm here," she replied with a diminutive smile.
"Everything okay?"
She nodded. "Everything's fine. My mind just wandered off for a minute, I guess."
"Good," he smirked. "I was starting to think it was me."
If you only knew, her mind whispered. Aloud, she merely laughed. "Don't flatter yourself."
She studied his face as the music began to fade out, noting that his attention was still focused in part on Brennan. And that's the way it's always going to be, she realized. The song ended and Cam brushed a hand over Booth's shoulder, knowing what she had to do.
"Merry Christmas, Seeley," she told him gently. It was a symbolic gesture, her way of stepping aside and taking herself out of the running, one he would never know she made. I hope you make her as happy as she already makes you.
Inside Angela's office, things were much more overt.
"What are we doing here?" Angela asked, confusion written on her face.
Hodgins smiled. "I figured we'd want some privacy for this."
Her puzzlement grew. "For what?"
He took a deep breath. "For when I tell you I love you."
"Jack, we've been over this," she frowned. "I can't…I told you…"
"…you didn't want to ruin our friendship," he finished for her, "and I respect that, I do. I just think you should have all the information before you make your final decision." Taking her hands in his, he looked into her dark eyes and spoke the words in his heart. "I love you, Angela, more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone. I'd give up everything just for the chance to be with you." He took a step closer to her, running his thumbs over the smooth skin of her hands. "Even my conspiracy-theorist ways," he continued with a tentative grin. "Area 51, the Kennedy assassination, the CIA partnering with what's left of the KGB, the hormones in green M&M's…I'd give 'em all up if it meant we could be together."
Tears began to form in her eyes as she began to comprehend the magnitude of his feelings. "Jack…"
"No, wait," he insisted. "If I don't get this all out, I'll burst…"
A tear broke loose and slipped down her cheek, her lips twisting into a smile as she nodded silently.
"There is a chance that things won't work out, you're right about that. There's also a chance that this could be the best thing that ever happened to us." He paused, stepping closer still to her, releasing her hands to slide his own around her waist. "But," he said in a low voice, "we'll never know which one we'll get unless we give it a try."
A second tear followed its mate and Angela brushed it away, laying her hand on his cheek. "You seem so certain about this."
He leaned his forehead against hers and pulled her against him. "I've never been more certain of anything else in my life."
Her arms went around his neck. "Certain that we should give 'us' a chance?"
"To quote Mariah Carey, 'all I want for Christmas is you'," he grinned.
More tears fell as Angela laughed out loud. "Mariah Carey?"
"My taste in music is wide and varied," Hodgins explained solemnly.
She cupped his face, becoming serious again and allowing her fingers to comb though his hair. "We'd have to take things very slowly," she cautioned.
His eyes went wide. "Was that a 'yes'?"
"We'd have to take things very slowly," she repeated, pronouncing each syllable carefully.
He nodded. "We'll go as slowly as you need to," he promised. "As long as we're going."
There was a heavy pause before Angela broke the silence again. "You'd really give up all your conspiracy theories for me?"
His grin returned. "Every single one."
He's serious! He's really willing to walk the straight-and-narrow…for me. "Well, I can't let that happen," she told him, hoping she was making the right choice. Her twinkling eyes closed and her lips parted, met adoringly by his.
He broke away after a quick moment and glanced around the room, seizing on an object and maneuvering the pair toward it without ever letting go of her. "Mistletoe," he explained when they were standing in the doorway underneath it. "I thought it would be nice if we got to have our Christmas kiss under some mistletoe."
"A very sweet gesture," she agreed warmly, leaning in again.
Brennan watched from across the large room as her two subordinates wrapped each other blissfully in their arms, smiling and frowning at them all at the same time in an odd combination. I guess Hodgin's "grand gesture" worked. And Zack got his dance with me, so I don't need to be at this party any longer.
An hour later found her curled up on the couch in her living room, wrapped in a heavy blanket, sipping hot chocolate and watching feathery snowflakes drift past her window, determined not to give in to the loneliness that threatened to overwhelm her.
…my life is perfectly fulfilling the way it is…
Until a loud knock sounded from her door. "Who's there?" she called, stalking across the room and looking through the peephole.
"It's me," a male voice answered.
Brennan unlocked the door and pulled it open in surprise. "Booth? What are you doing here?"
He stamped snow from his shoes and stepped into the apartment. "Can't a guy come visit a friend now and then?"
She shut the door tightly behind him and re-wrapped her blanket around her. "What is it that you want?"
"What I want," he grinned, "is for Mario Lemieux to come out of retirement again and help the Penguins win the Stanley Cup. But since that'll never happen, I thought I'd do a little giving instead."
She took the folded piece of paper he offered her and opened it. "What's this?"
"Parker wrote his letter to Santa Clause a few weeks ago, and insisted that I write one with him," Booth told her with a sheepish look. "This is mine."
She moved back into the living room and settled down on the couch, reading the letter aloud.
"Dear Santa,
"I'm not sure you can help me this year with the items on my Christmas list. There are only two things that I really want, and neither of them can be bought in any store.
"One of the two things that I want is time with my son, Parker. He's growing up so fast, and I feel like I never get to see him enough. He is the best part of me, and I love him more than anything else on earth.
"The only other thing I want this year is something I didn't even know I wanted until just recently. See, there's this anthropologist I work with—she's my partner, in fact—who's beautiful and smart, warm and kind (despite what other people might think), and—although neither of us would ever admit it to the other—she compliments my personality perfectly. John Wayne impressions are absolutely terrible, but in spite of that I'd really like a kiss from her this Christmas. I'll even supply the mistletoe.
"Sincerely,
"Seeley Booth"
Brennan stopped reading and looked blankly at her partner, seated beside her. "You want me to kiss you?"
"Yes, I do," he replied, feeling the color creeping into his face.
"You wrote this tonight, didn't you?" she accused half-heartedly. "After I told you how no one had ever made a grand gesture to me."
He shook his head and slid closer to her. "Nope. I wrote that three weeks ago with my son at my kitchen table."
"You know there's no such thing as Santa—"
"Bones, it's a gesture, okay?" he cut her off. "It's not big or…grand, but it's sincere."
She was silent for a few moments contemplating his words. Then, "Do you have it?"
"Have what?"
"Mistletoe. You said in the letter that you'd supply the mistletoe. I merely want to see if you're prepared to live up to your promise."
He reached into his coat pocket with a smirk. "Yes, I have mistletoe," he said, holding the small branch up for her to see. "Hodgins let me borrow the sprig we hung in Angela's office."
She examined the plant carefully. When she was certain it was what he claimed, she leaned forward to place the letter on the coffee table and inched closer to her partner, but stopped there. When she remained immobile after a few minutes more, he cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Bones?"
His eyes met hers and he could tell she was still thinking when she answered. "Aren't I supposed to kiss you under the mistletoe? That is the tradition, right?"
"Since when do you care about traditions?" he asked.
She smiled gently. "I know you care about traditions. I guess this is my gesture to you."
Booth returned her smile, dutifully raising the sprig of green above their heads with a wink. Foliage in place, Brennan reached for him, her hand coming to rest on his knee as her lips found his cheek in a tender kiss.
"Merry Christmas, Booth," she said softly.
He felt a warm wave wash over him, noting that she paused for just an instant longer than necessary before drawing away.
"Merry Christmas, Bones."
I know! I'm sorry BB shippers! It's cute, but not enough, right? If you're looking for some serious BB fluff (with a healthy dose of angst for good measure), check out my other story You and Me. That should satisfy your craving :-P
