(After The Spark in the Park)

A/N: a group of Bones fanfic writers were talking and we came up with a story challenge. This story is for the 'Boxer Rebellion Challenge'. It should consist of Booth in or out of his boxers. We decided that everyone should post their story by December 26 which is Boxing Day. Doesn't that sound wonderful? Anyway, this is my contribution.

Also, if you're a citizen of the United States you may not know what Boxing Day is. Boxing Day is a holiday celebrated on the day following Christmas Day, when servants and tradesmen would traditionally receive gifts known as a "Christmas box" from their masters, employers or customers in the United Kingdom and Commonwealth nations. (It doesn't really have anything to do with our story. We just thought Boxing Day was a cute tie in.)

I definitely don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

His day hadn't started out too bad. Christmas was coming and he was in a great mood or at least he was until reality started to rear its ugly head. When he'd awoke that morning, Brennan had reminded him that they were obligated to attend the Jeffersonian Christmas party that night. They probably wouldn't have time to leave work, come home, change clothes and return to the Jeffersonian, so Booth needed to put on the suit he planned to wear at the party. Max had Christine for the week and he was supposed to deliver her back home on Christmas Eve, so they didn't need to worry about her school schedule or getting a babysitter for the evening.

Grateful for the reminder, he'd worn his dark navy suit, a very pale blue shirt and a dark navy tie with tiny snowmen printed on it. Before donning the suit, he'd taken a quick shower and pulled on bright red boxers with little green Christmas trees printed on them. His socks matched his underwear and he thought he looked pretty cool. Stepping out of the bathroom, Booth spread his arms out wide and grinned. "So what do you think? Christmassy enough?"

Admiring his broad shoulders and narrow hips Brennan couldn't help but smile. "Yes you are definitely in the Christmas spirit. I hope you plan to wear a suit though. I'm quite certain the FBI dress code designates some kind of covering over your undergarments."

Amused, Booth laughed. "I think they do. Bones. I think they do." As he pulled his slacks on, he watched Brennan dress. "What time is the party?"

"Seven sharp." Brennan slipped on her dress and turned to face Booth. "I hope we don't have a case today. If we do, I think I will be a bit overdressed."

He admired the dark maroon dress she was wearing with the plunging neckline and the exposure of her delectable neck. It was definitely one of his favorite dresses. "You could always wear something else and change at work."

"I could, but I won't." Brennan turned and placed her white gold necklace with emerald pendant around her neck. It had been a gift from Booth when they were just friends and she considered it one of her favorite necklaces. "Angela, Cam and I have decided to dress festively for the entire day. Angela says we're going to make the boys salivate. I am assuming that she is talking about the male employees at the Jeffersonian who are not really children . . . I'm not sure how we're supposed to make them salivate and I didn't bother to ask. It actually sounds quite distasteful."

Not amused, Booth lost his smile as pulled on his shirt and buttoned it. "Angela is . . ." Knowing it was a lost cause, he shrugged his shoulders. "Never mind . . . I'm pretty sure everyone at the Lab will be professional." They sure as shit better be if they know what's good for them.

"Well of course they will." After she checked her hair and made sure it was swept up the way she wanted it to be, she turned and watched as Booth shrugged on his jacket. Moving over to where he was standing, she leaned over the chair, picked up his tie and handed it to him. Once he had it around his neck and under his shirt collar, she reached up and slowly tied it for him. "Will you be able to go to lunch with me today?"

Her hands weaving his tie into a knot, Booth almost forgot to breathe. He was always turned on when she touched his ties and it had a tendency to disrupt his thoughts. "Um . . . um, what?"

"Lunch." Finished, she ran the palm of her hand down the tie then stepped back and admired her work. "Will you be able to go to lunch with me?"

His naughty daydream shattered, Booth grinned. "Sure, unless something crops up. Let's go to the Founding Fathers for lunch. I think we're a little too classy for the Diner today."

"Alright." Brennan kissed him. "That's fine." Moving over to the dresser, she picked up her purse and checked her hair once more. "I hope no one spikes the punch this year. Doctor Adams was quite upset when he found out that the punch was alcoholic last year."

His eyes rolled as he filled his pants pockets with his chachkies and talismans. "It was Hodgins. You know he does that every year."

"Dr. Adams doesn't know that." Brennan moved over to the doorway. "He hasn't learned the staff's idiosyncrasies yet."

"Idiosyncrasies?" Booth shook his head. "Is that what you call childish behavior?"

"Yes, I do." Brennan knew that her husband didn't approve of rule breakage, but you only live once on this earth and Hodgins' idiosyncrasies were quite benign, at least most of the time.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

The morning had been quiet, so Booth was ready for lunch when Brennan called to say she would meet him at the Founding Fathers. Much to his aggravation, when Booth arrived at the bar/restaurant a handsome man probably in his late twenties was sitting at 'his' table talking to 'his' wife. The man seemed to be taking small liberties since he was leaning a little too close to Brennan and he had one of her hands covered with his hand. Once Booth was close enough, he stood over the stranger, flipped his coat aside and held his hand near his holstered gun. "This guy bothering you, Bones."

Her smile radiant, Brennan turned to face her husband. "Booth you made excellent time from the Hoover." She had just been about to extract her hand from the stranger's grasp when Booth had arrived. Moving her hand, she freed it and placed it on her partner's arm instead.

"Yeah, I did." Booth smiled at Brennan then lost his smile as he turned to face the interloper. "It probably helped that I didn't have to shoot anyone on the way over here."

Alarmed, the stranger took in Booth's gun and badge dangling from his belt, the menacing look and stance and realized that he was trying to pick up someone that could get him killed. "Hey, I was just talking. I'll go now."

"You do that sport." Booth waited for the man to leave and sat down on the vacated seat. "So busy morning?"

Not sure what had just transpired, Brennan had her suspicions. "I think he took your mentioning shooting someone as possibly a threat."

Since he didn't want a lecture on alpha males and his caveman tendencies, Booth held up his hands and denied it. "I was joking. You know that. I can't be held responsible if that guy doesn't have a sense of humor."

"It didn't seem like a joke." Brennan didn't always understand humor especially if it was meant to be subtle.

Booth shrugged his shoulders. "Well it was very funny. Let's order." After he grabbed the menu, he quickly scanned it and pointed to a new section on the menu. "Hey they have baked squash. I know you love that and so do I. I think I'll order it."

Since Brennan couldn't prove that Booth had done anything wrong, Brennan turned her attention to the menu. "That's an excellent idea. It's low in cholesterol and fat and a good source of vitamin E, Thiamin, Niacin, Vitamin B6, folate, calcium and magnesium." She placed her hand on his free hand. "Oh and it's an excellent source of fiber. You don't get enough fiber in your diet."

He thought her enthusiasm was cute, but he was a meat eater, fiber be damned. "Yeah, I'll order that and a grilled pork chop."

Nostrils flaring, Brennan shook her head. "You could go meatless for this meal."

Since he was trying to divert her attention from his previous behavior, Booth gave in and nodded his head. "Okay, no pork chop." Damn it.

Ooooooooooooooooo

Booth arrived at the Lab at 6:45 and hustled down the hall towards Brennan's office. Before he got there, Hodgins called out to him. "Hey man, I need your opinion about something."

Veering towards the entomologist, Booth arrived next to Hodgins' Ookie room and glanced at his watch. "Okay I got time, what's up?"

A sly look around to verify that they were alone, Hodgins quickly beckoned his friend into the room and closed the door after they were both inside. "Okay here's the thing. I'm going to spike the punch and I need you taste the vodka I made."

"You made?" Booth shook his head. "One I'm not a fan of vodka and two I'm not a guinea pig."

Annoyed, Hodgins held up the beaker and frowned at the Agent. "Hey, you know I'm careful when I distill alcohol. You liked the Scotch I made for your birthday last year. I just need you to take a sip and make sure it tastes okay."

Reluctantly, Booth held out his hand which made Hodgins grin. Pouring some of the clear liquid in to a glass, he handed it to Booth. "I know you don't like it when I spike the punch, but remember last year? Dr. Adams threw the Christmas party with no alcohol at all. My punch was the only alcohol there."

Reminded of that rather boring party, Booth shrugged his shoulders and drank until the glass was empty.

Alarmed, Hodgins held up his hand. "Booth for God's sake that's 90 proof."

"Pfft." Booth handed the empty glass back to Hodgins. "I have a bottle of Glenfarclas Single Malt Scotch as home that's 120 proof."

Taking the empty glass from Booth, Hodgins shook his head. "Yeah, but I bet you don't drink a water glass full at one shot."

A quick glance at his watch and Booth knew he needed to meet Brennan in her office. "It's vodka. My Nana drank Vodka for God's sake. Listen, don't spike the punch this year. Bones told me at lunch that Dr. Adams plans to have someone guard the punch bowl this year. Unless you're willing to risk your job, I'd say you better leave that stuff here."

After Booth left the room, Hodgins stared at the beaker and started to search for something less obvious to carry the vodka in. If there was anything that Hodgins thrived on, it was a challenge and spiking the punch this year seemed to be a challenge he couldn't resist. Since he had several beakers of homemade vodka he thought he might use most of it. Might as well not let it go to waste.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

Once they were at the party, Booth found out that wine was being served as well as punch and soft drinks. After he retrieved a glass of wine for both him and his wife, he found a table and sat down. Brennan had to circulate the room since there were regents and patrons there and Dr. Adams expected his star anthropologist to mingle. Brennan didn't mind mingling as a rule, but she wasn't thrilled with the fact that some of the regents and patrons thought it was fine to touch her without permission.

Booth wasn't thrilled about it either. He knew his wife could take care of herself, but it chapped his hide that men thought it was okay to paw his wife. The slimy bastards.

After he'd drunk two glasses of wine, Cam sat down next to him and placed her hand on his arm. "Easy Big Guy. You're drinking that wine pretty fast. You really should pace yourself."

"It's just wine." Booth was watching one of the regents place his hand on Brennan's lower back. He was pleased to see Brennan step away a little forcing the man to drop his hand, but still it galled him to see someone he knew was an adulterer trying to mark his wife. "If it wasn't for the fact that Chris O'Brien is seventy one years old and I'd probably hurt the bastard, I'd pop that guy."

"Booth, you know Dr. Brennan can take care of herself." Cam took his third glass of wine from his hand and handed him her glass of punch. "You don't need any more wine."

Normally he'd resent someone telling him what to do, but in this case, Cam was probably right. He was filled with a sense of outrage and he knew it was because he considered Brennan his property. If his wife knew how he felt, she'd probably raise hell with him, but she was his wife and Booth could barely tolerate someone ogling her. When guys touched her it filled him with a rage that he knew was dangerous for both him and her. "Yeah, thanks." Booth drank the glass of punch and placed the glass down on the table. "They know she's married, but they still think it's okay to flirt with her . . . to touch her." His gaze on Brennan, Booth watched as she reached out, touched the old man on the arm and then walk away towards another patron. "Well at least Steve Akins is in love with his wife. Bones likes him and so do I."

"Steve is a nice guy." Cam sipped the wine and smiled. "Dr. Brennan is more patient than I am. Ken Winters tried to place his hand on my ass and I had to remind him that he was definitely going to lose some fingers if he didn't stop."

Booth looked around the room and spied Ken Winters talking to Dr. Adams. "Want me to talk to him?"

Amused, Cam swallowed her wine. "No, Dr. Adams noticed Ken taking liberties and intervened. I think he's lecturing Ken about it right now."

Glowering at the stock trader, Booth muttered. "Dam rich piece of shit."

Ooooooooooooooooo

As the evening progressed, Brennan found it odd that some of the party goers were so tired that they placed their heads on tables and fell asleep. She also had to talk to three regents who had seemed to have lost their inhibitions. Tired of the nonsense, she moved over to where Booth was sitting and sat down beside him.

"Bones, hiya Bones." Happy and content, Booth moved his glass of punch towards his wife. "How about some punch? It's delish . . . delicious. I've had a bunch. Can't seem to stop drinking it."

Suspicious of Booth's exuberance, Brennan turned on her chair so she could face him. "No thank you. I don't care for punch. It's too sweet . . . Are you drunk?"

Outraged, Booth pulled his glass back so that it rested against his chest. "Drunk? No way. I had two glasses of wine, but that was two hours ago. That's the only alcohol I've had all day. Well that and a glass of vodka in Hodgins' work room."

"Vodka?" Her senses on alert, Brennan took the glass filled with punch from Booth, sipped it and placed the glass on the table. "Just how many glasses of punch have you had?"

Booth shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, I lost count . . . ten maybe."

"Ten!" Brennan was now upset. "Booth we need to go home. I'm pretty sure Hodgins spiked the punch again."

"Nah uh." The Agent picked up the glass of punch and drank it down. Once that was done he smacked his lips. "I told him Dr. Adams had someone guarding the punch bowl. It's not spiked. I'd know."

Gathering her purse and coat from the table top, Brennan stood up. "Let's go home, Booth. I'm tired."

Slowly and carefully, Booth stood up and realized that his equilibrium was slightly off. Puzzled, he stood still and once he was sure he could walk, he grinned at Brennan. "Okay, Babe let's go."

Very annoyed that he had called her Babe, she now knew for certain that he was drunk. Booth always called her terms of endearment when he was drunk. "Don't call me Babe, Booth . . . Come on. I'll drive."

"No you won't." Booth followed her across the room out of the doorway and into the hallway. "I drove here and I'll drive us home."

Careful to choose her words wisely, Brennan continued down the hallway. "Your driver's license is expired. You can't drive and not break the law."

"Wait are you sure?" Booth felt for his wallet and pulled it from his jacket pocket. "Let me check it."

Brennan took the wallet from his shaking hand, pulled out the driver's license, flashed it at him, placed it back in his wallet then placed the wallet in her purse. "As you can see I am correct."

"Damn, I got to get that renewed." Booth didn't question her and continued down the hallway toward the elevators. "Thanks Bones. Can't break the law. No sir. I am the law. Got to get that renewed. You drive Bones."

"Of course Booth." At the elevator, Brennan pushed the P button for the parking garage. "When we get home, we should drink a lot of water before retiring to flush our systems."

"Okey dokee." Booth leaned against the elevator. "Babe you look so beautiful . . . you should have drunk some of that punch. It was so good . . . You know I saw Ken Winters place his hand on your ass. He did that to Cam too. The only reason he's still conscious is because you pushed him away . . . he had no right feeling your ass. That's my job."

"I don't like punch, Booth and yes, only you get to touch my posterior." Grateful that she hadn't drunk any of the punch, she planned to make several scathing comments towards Hodgins when she talked to him next. Several very scathing comments.

"Course, you can touch my ass anytime you want to." Booth laughed. "But not at crime scenes. Nope not at crime scenes. Got to be professional, Babe. All the time got to be professional."

Ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Once they were home and in their bedroom, Booth sat down on the bed. "I don't feel good, Bones. I . . . maybe I should have eaten something with all that punch I drank. Damn that shit was good. Got to get the recipe."

Worried about how drunk he really was, Brennan pushed her worry aside and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Stand up and I'll help you undress."

"I can do it." Slowly he stood up and felt slightly woozy. "Course if you want to undress me that's okay too."

After she removed his jacket, she reached out and removed his tie causing him to stare at her with a little lust in his eyes. "Babe, the way you remove my tie . . . damn you're so hot."

As patiently as possible, Brennan pulled his shirt from the waist of his pants, unbuttoned and removed it. "Yes, I know you think so although I'm not sure why removing a tie is sexy . . . Stand still Booth and stop calling me Babe."

"Well it's just sexy that's all." Booth felt her tug on his belt and pull it from the belt loops. "Course removing my belt is too." After she unzipped his pants she moved her hands so that his slacks fell to the floor. "Damn Babe . . . I mean Bones, this is so damn freaking hot."

Starting to feel aroused with Booth's reactions to her undressing him, Brennan smiled and placed her hands on his boxers. Slipping her hands under the waistband, she rested her hands on his bare hips. "Just how drunk are you?"

"I'm not drunk." Booth's nostrils flair. "I only drank two glasses of wine and that shit Hodgins passed off as Vodka." Annoyed he removed her hands so they were no longer touching him. As he held her wrists he glared at her. "I only drank punch. Are you calling me a liar?"

"The punch you drank was spiked." Brennan sighed. "You are very drunk, Booth."

His lips pursed, Booth stepped away from his wife. "I am not drunk and don't touch my boxers or . . . my stuff. You wouldn't drink my punch and now you say I'm drunk when I'm not. Me and my Christmas boxers and socks are going to sleep on the couch."

Exacerbated, Brennan exhaled deeply. "Booth, I'm sorry. Of course you aren't drunk. I'm just teasing you."

Pausing at the door, Booth turned back and smiled. "Oh, sorry . . . I don't always get squint humor." Moving back across the room, he stood next to her and captured her hands with his hands. "I thought you were serious and . . . Babe you look so damn hot in that dress." Booth moved her hands back on his hips and his smile turned into a toothy grin. "If you want to remove my boxers it's okay. . . I wouldn't mind at all."

Relieved that Booth had stayed, Brennan moved her hands back under the waistband of his boxers and cupped his gluteus maximus. "Thank you, Booth. Perhaps you should lie down while I undress." His legs were trembling and she wasn't sure why he was still conscious let alone standing.

"Aren't you going to remove my boxers?" Booth was so tired, but she had started something that needed to be finished. "You know you want to."

Moving her hands, she pushed his boxers down and let them fall, to pool around his ankles. "Now lie down, while I undress." Before you fall down.

After he lay down on the bed, Booth wiggled his toes in his socks. "Like my socks? They match my boxers."

As she removed her dress, Brennan smiled at her husband. "Yes, they are very festive." Turning back towards the dresser she removed her necklace. After it was safely in the jewelry box she turned to face Booth and realized he was asleep. His chest was moving up down in a gentle cadence and his face was calm and boyish looking. Moving over to the bed, she pulled the blanket from the foot of the bed and covered him. Gathering his clothes, she hung up his suit and tie in the closet, took his shirt and boxers and carried them into the bathroom where she placed them in the clothes hamper.

Returning back into the bedroom, she stood and stared at her sleeping husband. "I've always loved your festive underwear Booth. I remember the first time I saw your Christmas boxers when we had to have shots placed in our hips when we were exposed to coccidioidomycosis . . . valley fever. I didn't say anything of course since were just partners, but I thought they were very nice and now when I see your Christmas boxers I can tell you just how nice they look on you. They look very nice Booth as do you."

Frustrated, Brennan shook her head and retrieved a pair of pajamas from the dresser. "This is not how I thought we'd be spending our evening. Hodgins will have a stern talking to when I see him. He needs to apologize to you since this was not your fault. Accidentally getting my husband drunk is unacceptable and so damn frustrating." Once more staring at her husband, Brennan sighed, walked over to the bed, lifted his blanket, stared at his attributes momentarily and placed the blanket back down. "In or out of boxers, you are very beautiful Booth. You are beautiful and you most definitely belong to me."

Oooooooooooooooooooooo

I know it was a little longer than most of my short stories. I hope you liked my story. Let me know what you think of it. Thank you.