Rainbows of light sparkled among the spiky green branches of the fat little spruce tree settled into the cleared space in the corner of the living room area of Booth's apartment. Fresh pine scented the air, while the soft strands of Dean Martin singing Silver Bells played in the background. Scattered about on the floor beneath the tree were cardboard boxes in various stages of emptiness, each item taken out, unwrapped and carefully inspected before being handed off to be hung with care on the tree.
For Booth and Brennan it was their first Christmas together, as more than just friends and partners. And Booth was determined to make it as memorable as possible. Including getting a tree.
They'd argued back and forth about a real tree versus a fake one. Or having one at all. Christmas for Brennan was still touchy even with the good memories of more recent Christmases spent with Booth and the rest of the squint squad over the years. This year though, Booth had wanted it all to be perfect for their first official Christmas together as a couple.
So a tree had been bought and the decorations taken out. Of course as soon as she'd seen the boxes stacked neatly in a closet in Booth's hallway she'd raised a sardonic eyebrow at him and asked exactly how many trees he planned to decorate. Booth had just smiled and told her that it was part of the magic of Christmas to fit as many ornaments on the tree as possible. Brennan had simply raised the other eyebrow and said nothing, instead helping him move the boxes to the living room.
There another round of bickering ensued about who would unpack the boxes and who would put the ornaments on the tree. Booth had argued that he didn't want her to sit on the floor because of the baby. That of course earned him an angry glare that dared him to finish the rest of his thought. Booth, wisely, had stopped before he could earn himself a place sleeping on the couch that night. Or worse, making Brennan leave to go back to her own apartment for the night.
Finally they had agreed to Booth unpacking the boxes and Brennan decorating the tree and set to work. Slowly the tree began to fill with ornaments of various shapes and sizes and colors. Occasionally a particular ornament would reveal itself and Booth would explain its significance and how he'd come to have it. Brennan had enjoyed these stories of the different places he'd been while in the military or traveled to for both work and pleasure. Each story adding to the history of each piece and to the man who owned them.
Reaching into the box in front of him, Booth picked up a neatly wrapped ornament. Teasing the tissue paper from around it with gentle fingers, he lifted the ornament from it's nest of wrappings and held it up. A smile twitched at his lips as he took in the messy scrawl of 'Dad' painted across the green orb he held. It had been a present from Parker when he was six. He'd been so proud to be able to write the simple three letter word all by himself. And when he's presented the bauble to Booth that Christmas he'd worn the proudest smile. It had melted Booth's heart.
When several minutes had ticked by without the sound of Booth's voice explaining another uncovered treasure or the rustling of paper and other various sounds of rummaging, Brennan peeked over her shoulder, wondering what had prompted the pause in Booth's search for every shiny bauble he owned to decorate a tree with.
The sight that greeted her made a smile come to her face as she took in the way Booth stared at the green sphere he had in front of him. She caught sight of what looked like 'Dad' written in messy, childish scrawl across the smooth rounded belly of the ornament and knew instantly what had captured her partner's attention about the treasure.
"Booth? Booth? Are you going stare at that ornament all night?" Brennan's voice broke through the haze of memories Booth had gotten lost in. Blinking slowly, he smiled as he held the ornament out to her.
"I was just remembering when Parker gave me that. He was about six or so, and he'd just learned how to spell and write. Easy things like his name and 'Mom' and 'Dad'. Anyway, his class that year made ornaments at Christmas and he made that one for me. He was so proud of himself for being able to write 'Dad' by himself."
Her own smile widening in response to his, Brennan took the small ornament from Booth's hand, turning to place it on a free branch of the almost completely decorated tree. Finding a space, she carefully hung the green bulb on a slim branch turning it so that the 'Dad' written so clearly across it could be visible.
She studied the ornament for a few minutes, her smile slipping a bit as she thought of her own past Christmases as a child. She remembered the handmade childish ornaments that she and Russ had made as kids, each one carefully hung on their Christmas tree each year by her mother. The collection of assorted crafty decorations growing with each passing year until they both reached an age that making homemade ornaments was considered beyond them.
She wondered what happened to those pieces, so carefully packed away in the attic in their old house. Unconsciously, Brennan smoothed a hand over her swollen, eight months pregnant belly and not for the first time wondered if her daughter would bring home such treasures one day.
From his position still seated on the floor, Booth watched the play of emotions and thoughts that washed across Brennan's features. He watched the way her eyes lit from within at a remembered memory only to watch them dim as the happy memories transitioned into something else entirely.
He knew what she was thinking about, and silently cursed Max for leaving his daughter with so many scars. Even if the old con man had returned to her life since. When she smoothed her hand across her swollen belly, Booth pushed himself to his feet and carefully picked his way through the boxes still scattered all over the floor to her side.
"Hey," he said quietly, slipping his arms around her from behind, letting his hands settle over the place where their child grew. "What's wrong?"
Shifting and fidgeting until she was fitted comfortably against him, Brennan stared at the tree not really seeing it. Booth watched her as she seemingly got lost in her thoughts, trying to find the right words to convey her feelings. Silence stretched on for several minutes until she released a held breath and finally spoke.
"When Russ and I were children, we used to make homemade decorations every Christmas. Either at home or school. Mostly out of uncooked pasta. We'd glue it to paper plates to make a wreath or fashion it into an ornament of some kind for the tree. Other times we'd use old wooden clothespins to make reindeer and glue those plastic eyes on them and use pipe cleaners for the antlers. We made different things every year until we finally grew out of doing such things. Every year though, until they left, my mother used to place all those handmade decorations on our tree. She used to say they were her favorites."
Pausing in her tale, Brennan swallowed against the sudden thickness of her voice. The memories of those times spent with her brother making their childish creations made the thought of having lost those things and so much more after their parents left more difficult and emotional than she thought it would.
Silently Booth slipped his hand into one of hers and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze of silent support. His touch soothed some of the rough edges of her recalled pain and finally after a few minutes she was able to go on.
"I don't know what ever happened to all those things." she told him, her fingers squeezing his thick ones in return. "After Russ left and I went into the foster system, the house was sold. And as far as I know those things were still packed away in the attic. Whoever bought the house probably threw them out. And well, I know it's silly but I wish I still had those things because I want our daughter to have them. To see the things we made as children and perhaps one day she'll add her own. Do you think she'll make things for us Booth? Do you think she'll want to make things for us? Like Russ and I did for my parents?"
There was a moments silence as Booth processed all she'd shared with him. Finally, slipping his arms from around her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her to face him, pulling her back against him as much as her pregnant belly would allow. Tucking her head against his chest and wrapping his arms around her again, Booth rested his chin on top of her head while running his hand up and down her back in slow circles.
When he spoke it wasn't what she was expecting.
"Jared and I, we never were into making crafts of any kind, even when we lived at home. I mean we did the normal 'art' when we were really young like preschool and kindergarten art but never anything else," he began. Brennan felt the rumble of his voice against her cheek where it rested on his chest and smiled. She had to agree with his words, remembering their ill-fated 'double date' with Sweets and his fish loving girlfriend at the time not long after they had first met him.
"So we never really had any homemade decorations in the house. I mean we had ornaments, but they weren't, you know, heirlooms or anything. My mom, well she kept a lot of her good ornaments packed away, you see, cause of, you know, my dad. Christmas sometimes, ah, wasn't always a happy time in my house. There were a few times when we didn't even celebrate it. At least not at the house. Pops though, he always made sure we had Christmas with him and my grandmother. Especially after he took Jared and I in."
Brennan hugged Booth tighter as he spoke, the pain of those times when Christmas was anything but the special, happy time it was supposed to be echoing deeply within her.
"I remember some of the old, antique ornaments that Pops had. He said he got some of them while he was overseas during his days in the army. Others had belonged to his parents. There was always a story to go with each one. I remember him telling the stories every year at Christmas as we decorated the tree, telling them as if they were brand new and we'd never heard them before. I never got tired of hearing them. Somehow, even though they weren't new, he made them feel that way every time he told them."
"Hank tells a great many stories. I too enjoy hearing them," Brennan said, burrowing closer into Booth's warmth. Licking her lips nervously, Brennan considered all Booth had revealed to her and decided to share one last piece of her lost time in state care.
"It was the first Christmas after my parents left and the first one while I was in foster care. The family I was staying with was one of the better ones. They tried so hard to include me in their family, in all the things that made Christmas for them. But, I .. I was still so angry and I refused to help them decorate the house or the tree or anything. I just stayed in my room with my books, studying. I had promised myself that I would never celebrate Christmas again. All it did was remind me of what I didn't have. What I had lost. Not long after that the family returned me to the group home where I'd been living before going to stay with them. That was the last time anyone tried to include me in their Christmases while I was still in the system. No one else ever bothered. And later when people offered I always declined, going to some far off dig to escape it. Then I met you, Booth. You and Angela and you both made Christmas mean something to me again."
"Oh, Bones," Booth whispered, his voice rough like sandpaper. Lifting her head from it's place on Booth's shoulder, she was surprised to see wet tracks running down his cheeks. Reaching out she swiped her thumb across his cheekbone, wiping the moisture away. Their eyes caught and locked. Assurances and support and love were exchanged in the space of a heartbeat all without words. Pulling her close again, Booth held her close to him, losing himself in the feel of her warm weight resting against him. They stood together, lost in thoughts of Christmases past, both good and bad before Booth spoke again, this time answering her original questions.
"I have no doubt Bones, that our little girl is going to make us things. Both Christmas ornaments and lots of other great things. She's going to be brilliant like her dad and beautiful like her mom."
Leaning back from his embrace, Brennan gave Booth a gentle smile before leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips. The kiss lasted for several minutes before they parted, foreheads leaning against each other.
"New life, new memories. Remember?" Booth questioned quietly, repeating what he'd told her a few months before. "We can have whatever life we want."
Dashing the sudden rush of tears to her eyes, Brennan nodded her agreement. "Yes."
Silence settled around them as Booth drew her back against his chest, swaying to the music that continued to play in the background, this time the strands of Bing Crosby's White Christmas drifted around them as they danced in place together. Their lives no longer separate but now a single life shared.
AN: Yes! She's back! After a very long absence my Muse has returned. Hopefully she's going to stick around for a while. This little Christmas story is what she brought me on her return. So please tell me what you think in that lovely little box right down there. Reviews feed the Muse after all. And very special THANK YOU to DGScheider for dealing with my panic and anxiety over this little story. Plus her awesome skills as a beta. If you haven't checked out her stories you really should. They are wonderful and amazing. :)