"I'm sorry Parker won't be with you for Christmas, Booth. I know how much this day means to you – even if the birth of Christ technically wasn't until spring," Brennan said, sitting down beside him on the couch.
"Yeah, it's hard not seeing him until after the actual day. Stupid ski trip in Vermont . . . but at least I insisted we get Parker next year. We'll get to spend our first family Christmas together," Booth replied.
"I thought you said we were already a family? And you and Parker are a family of your own -?" she questioned, confused and slightly disappointed.
"No – hey, we are. You, me, Parker . . . this little squint inside you . . . we are a family. I just meant that our little girl would be born by then and able to truly celebrate the holiday with us," he explained, pulling her close to him.
"That is true – while fetuses have the ability to hear sounds through the womb at this point in the pregnancy, they are not able to visually experience the events outside of the womb," Brennan agreed. "However, studies have shown that infants are unable to remember any events that happen during that age."
Booth smirked.
"How did I know you'd do that?" he shook his head.
"Do what?" she wondered, innocently.
"Find a way to scientifically squash the anticipation and enjoyment of next Christmas," he answered.
"It wasn't my intention. I was simply implying that the holiday would more than likely be more memorable for us and Parker than it will be for our child," she defended. "I didn't intend to upset you."
"You didn't, Bones. It's okay. It's actually what I love about you – you bring me back down to reality," Booth said, kissing the top of her head and rubbing her belly. "Now – as much as I'd love to just stay here all day, we've got meals to make, cookies to eat, presents to open, and movies to watch!"
"By movies, you don't mean that 'National Monsoon's' movie, do you?" Brennan wrinkled her nose. "I highly doubt it's very festive, given the devastation those storms cause."
"It's Lampoon, and it's a classic, Bones! Every year, Pops and I would watch it. The first year, I laughed until I was literally blue in the face. You gotta see it!" Booth insisted.
Brennan laughed, dismissively.
"I highly doubt you were deprived of oxygen long enough for your face to turn blue," she said. "When is your grandfather coming?"
"I'm pickin' him up around 1PM. I thought we could open our own presents privately . . ." he playfully wiggled his eyebrows.
"I sincerely hope that doesn't mean my only gift is the offer of an engagement in the act of coitus? However, I suppose it wouldn't be a horrible present to receive as I have always found you quite desirable," she smiled and kissed his lips.
"Really?" he grinned like the cat who swallowed the canary and sat both of them up. "I guess I don't need any more convincing than that . . ."
"Wait – Booth, we need to prepare the pasta for our meal. I thought we could open our physical presents while the dough is setting," Brennan opposed.
"We'll still have plenty of time, Bones. Wait – whoa – pasta? What happened to the chicken?" he questioned.
"Given that I am a vegetarian, and in past years the holiday meals were based on meat, I decided I would make whole wheat pasta and marinara sauce from scratch, with chicken parmesan for you and your grandfather," she told him.
"So the bird's not in the oven?" Booth asked.
"No, I removed the muscular tissue from the bones in order to prepare it for our meal," she stated, innocently.
"Bones . . . the whole point of Christmas dinner is to see that beautiful whole bird on the dinner table filled with stuffing and all the other good stuff around it! We can have Italian anytime!" he groaned. "When you said 'prepare' at about six this morning I thought you were sticking it in the oven . . ."
"I-I'm sorry, Booth. I should have been more specific with you. But in my defense, you weren't very responsive at that point. I am sure if I had told you I was removing my clothes and wished for you to join me in the shower, you still would have proceeded to grunt and pull the comforter over your head," she replied.
"Hey – you say the word 'naked' and I'm always there! But seriously, Bones. Why didn't you talk to me about this before? We're a team, remember?" he reminded her.
"I-I wanted to surprise you. I thought we could start a new Christmas tradition. I am truly sorry, Booth. I didn't realize how much having a full bird with all the American trimmings surrounding it meant to you. Other cultures have different traditions at this time of year, so I assumed trying a new one would be amenable," she apologized. "If it really means that much to you, I will call around and see if I can locate a market that is still open on this day -"
"No – Bones, just relax. Nothing's open today but the movie theaters -" Booth began.
"Don't worry. I will pay a store manager extra for their time. I want you to be happy, and I realize that I have made your already disappointed day even worse," Brennan observed.
"You didn't make it worse – any day with you makes me feel better, okay?" he assured her. "So. What do we need to do to make that pasta?"
"Are you sure, Booth?" Brennan asked, hesitantly.
"Positive," he said, planting a firm kiss on her lips. "Just like you said – we have a new life, and it's time to make new memories."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
While Booth left to pick up Hank from the assisted living facility, Brennan got to thinking she wanted to make up for her faux pas. So while the pasta water was heating up, she searched the pantry for cornbread mix and added celery, onions, and other seasonings once it was cooked. Meanwhile, she prepared some garlic mashed potatoes as another side dish and managed to set the table just as Booth and his grandfather walked in the door.
"Okay, Bones, Pops and I are ready for your Italian feast!" Booth exclaimed, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "What's all this?"
"I did some thinking and decided that it was possible for us to combine both old and new traditions. So I prepared two traditional side dishes for you and Hank," Brennan replied.
"Thank you, Temperance," Hank smiled. "I hope my grandson and his pathetic whining didn't cause you to do all this. You should be on the couch with your feet up, making sure my great-granddaughter gets all the care she needs. Seeley can cook for himself – I made sure I taught him that."
"Thank you, Hank, but Booth was quite helpful this morning. He helped me make the pasta and sauce and bread the chicken. You would be very proud of him," Brennan told him.
"Bones, this is incredible. You really shouldn't have done all this," Booth said, wrapping his arms around her from behind.
Brennan hugged his arms as he kissed her cheek.
"I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to make up for ruining your traditional meal," she said, turning to face him. "You deserve to preserve the customs you have practiced since childhood. I realize that now."
Booth stared at her in awe for a minute. God he loved this woman . . .
"I'd tell you that you're perfect for me, but I think it'd go to your head," he joked.
"Perfection is an impossibility, although I agree that we both come close to it when referring to our arrangement together," she smiled and put her arms around his neck.
He held her as close as was possible, considering her eight-month pregnant belly.
"I'm gonna go wash up. Let me know when you kids are done necking," Hank smiled.
Brennan and Booth pulled back, embarrassed. For a moment, they had forgotten anyone else was in the room with them.
"Just come back when you've washed your hands, alright, Pops? Bones and I . . . well we're done with all the mushy crap, for now," Booth assured his grandfather.
"No need to get embarrassed, shrimp. Hold onto these kinda moments while you can. It's the first years that are the best," Hank advised him before going to the bathroom.
Booth looked back at Brennan and they cracked a smile at each other.
"Perhaps we should take his advice. Your grandfather does have a lot of experience in this area," Brennan pondered.
"Yeah, good ol' Pops. He and Grams did have a good thing goin'," Booth admitted. "I kinda wished I'd have that with someone one day . . . and now I do."
"You still believe we'll be one of those couples, thirty, forty, or fifty years from now?" Brennan asked, nervously.
"I do. I know that scares you and there are all kinds of things that could happen in that time. But I think we're strong enough to make it through anything, Bones," Booth told her.
Brennan smiled lovingly at him.
"You're the only man who makes me want that to be true," she admitted, then cleared her throat. "I got your favorite pie for dessert."
"You're too good to me, Bones," Booth smiled.
"Wait 'til you see your Christmas presents," she teased.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
After Hank decided to take a nap, Booth and Brennan gathered by the tree to open their presents for each other. Booth grabbed one of the last boxes left and started shaking it.
"Is it a remote to that flat screen I want? Keys to a Porsche?" he joked.
"Open it up . . ." Brennan prompted.
Booth eagerly tore it open like a little boy.
"It's a baseball cap . . . thanks, Bones," he said, trying not to sound too disappointed.
"Look inside of it . . ." she coaxed.
"Season tickets to the Phillies!" Booth exclaimed.
"I thought you could take Parker . . . or even Hank to some," she explained.
Booth held back tears, thinking of his father.
"Thank you, Bones - really. This is the best present I've ever gotten," he smiled, poignantly.
"I'm glad you like it," she smiled and gently touched his face. "I do have one more that you can physically open."
Booth crinkled his brow in confusion, but soon forgot it as he unwrapped the remote to the flat panel 103 inch 3D LED TV that he had been wanting.
"You're serious, right?" he asked, shocked that Brennan would actually be the one to purchase a new TV – much less one that was that large.
"It will be delivered tomorrow. However, I was hoping we could wait to set it up until we found and moved into a new home," she said.
Booth pouted a little.
Brennan could no longer fight the smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.
"It was a joke, Booth. We haven't even agreed on a new dwelling yet and houses take at least six weeks to close on. Do you find me to have ever been that cruel to you?" she asked.
"Oh. No – no, Bones. You're amazing . . . even though you really spoiled me. I know the stand mixer, laptop, and watch weren't that much -" he said, lowering his head in shame.
"Booth, this is not a competition. I do not base your love for me on frivolous objects. Please do not feel the obligation to indulge me with expensive gifts. I already have all of the luxuries I could possibly want," Brennan assured him. "Except for a horse, perhaps . . ."
"I'll get you anything you want, baby," he vowed, gratefully kissing her lips.
They both got caught up in the moment until there was a knock at their door.
"It's 8PM on Christmas. Who would be here this late?" Booth wondered.
"I think it's your last gift . . ." Brennan guessed, going to open the door.
Booth followed, his only guess being it was Hodgins and Angela, even though they had just exchanged gifts the night before. He never would have imagined he'd see who really was at their door.
"Parker! Rebecca? I thought you weren't coming back until late tomorrow night?" Booth asked.
"Temperance convinced me that Parker should be able to spend some time with you on Christmas. Given what you've been going through lately, I agreed she had a good point," Rebecca explained. "I'll be back for him on Wednesday. Merry Christmas, Seeley."
"Merry Christmas . . ." Booth barely managed to form the words as Rebecca kissed their son and left. He looked at Brennan.
"What?" she innocently asked.
"You know what. But I'll deal with you later . . ." he grinned, boyishly. "Okay, bub. Let's go open the presents Bones and I got you and then we'll make some hot chocolate and watch 'Christmas Vacation' with Pops."
"Can I have those little marshmallows in mine?" Parker asked.
"Of course you can, Parker. I'll go make us some and you and your dad can get started with the presents," Brennan told him.
"Cool!" he exclaimed, diving toward the presents under the tree.
"No opening them until we get back in there!" Booth warned him.
"Aww . . . Dad . . .!" Parker protested. "But Bren said -"
"Five minutes, okay Parks?" he bargained.
"Okay . . ." Parker pouted.
Booth followed Brennan into the kitchen.
"You didn't have to do this, Bones," he told her.
"I know. I wanted to, though . . . You haven't really been yourself since . . ." she trailed off.
"Since my dad died. Yeah . . . I'm sorry about that," he apologized.
"It's perfectly natural, Booth. Individuals grieve in their own way and in their own time. The Egyptians -" she began before Booth cut her off with a kiss.
"I told Parker five minutes, Bones," he teased, and got out three mugs from the cabinet.
Brennan playfully smacked his ass with the K-cup box, then started to make the first cup.
Booth pulled her back toward him, grinning like he hadn't in a long time.
"You're happy . . . you're really happy . . ." she smiled.
"Yeah, Bones, I'm really happy. Thank you . . . for everything," he told her. "I just hope you'll be thanking me,tomorrow, when Max and Russ show up?"
"They're coming? But I thought Russ had a meeting and Dad was going to help Amy watch the girls?" she said, surprised.
"Merry Christmas, Bones," Booth smiled.
"Merry Christmas, Booth," she grinned and brought his lips to hers once more.