A/N: A Valentine's Day gift for MoreBonesPlz. Booth and Brennan spend some part of the day in her office eating and talking.
The book mentionedin this story is part of an earlier story titled "The Gift." If you are interested in the full background, you will find it there.
"We're stuck," Booth announced, appearing in Brennan's office late in the afternoon. It was Valentine's Day, and the two of them had planned a quiet evening at home together. Christine was at Max's and Booth had been greatly looking forward to some quiet time with his wife.
"What do you mean, stuck?" Brennan asked, rubbing her eyes as she looked up at her husband. Most of the afternoon had been spent working on several reports and her newest article for publication. Currently, she had absolutely no idea of what was going on in the world outside her office.
"Didn't you notice when the rest of the lab left at noon?" An amused expression on his face, Booth came further into the office, carrying a large bag. He set that gratefully at his feet as he relaxed in the first available chair.
"Angela poked her head in," Brennan said, thinking back, "but I told her you were picking me up and I would wait until you arrived."
"Definitely a mistake," Booth announced. "Some freak snowstorm has hit the city. It's absolutely disgusting out there. Snow everywhere, accidents. The city is shut down and the roads are impassible. I barely made it here."
Her brow furrowed, Brennan looked toward the wall, imagining she could see the city outside of it. "The weatherman did not predict this. Are you sure we can't get home? We had a quiet evening planned to celebrate this ridiculous holiday."
To the outside world, neither changed their opinion on a day built around love, but both had softened their stance just a little since finally becoming a couple. Booth, a romantic at heart, could never let an opportunity pass to show how much he loved her. Brennan would never miss an opportunity to make Booth happy.
This year, he'd managed to secure an early copy of a documentary she had mentioned she'd like to see, with a little help from her publisher. It wasn't anything he was interested in, but he'd pretend to like it just for her, knowing he'd be rewarded afterwards.
Now, the documentary, and the wine he'd planned to enjoy with her this evening, were going to spending a quiet night at the house. Hopefully, they'd enjoy it together later.
"We can't get there, Bones. We are going to spend a very quiet night here. At least for a little while. The plows are out and the snow was letting up a little," he decided, trying to look on the positive side. "We might get to sleep in our own bed at least."
Brennan shrugged. "We've spent nights in worse places." She tilted her head toward the bag. "What have you got there?"
Booth slapped his hands together with a smile. "I know that Valentine's Day isn't your favorite," he began, reaching into the bag.
"I don't mind it so much," she said quickly. Twirling a pencil in her fingers, she looked directly at him. "It's better now."
Stopping in mid-motion, Booth sat back up and smiled at her. "I agree, Bones. I love spending Valentine's Day with you."
"Valentine's Day? Not every day?"
"Of course, every day, Bones. I just meant," he paused and looked more closely. "You're teasing me."
"Just a little," she admitted. "What's in the bag?"
"Well," he said, his voice a little softer as he leaned forward, "when I realized we hadn't had lunch together, I made a stop." Many of the restaurants had been booked on a day like today. But the restaurant he'd stopped at hadn't required reservations.
"Take out," Brennan said, her eyes staring appreciably at the bags in his hand. "The perfect romantic dinner."
"It is for us, Bones," Booth argued. "Our entire relationship was established over this kind of food."
Brennan rose from her chair to help him set up a place to eat. She motioned toward the table placed in front of the couch in her office. But Booth stopped her.
"Just wait a second, Bones. It's Valentine's Day after all. There's more in the bag."
"Then let me help," she said, coming to dig in. Beneath the food she found a red cloth and several small candles. "Where did you find all of this stuff?" she asked, opening the cloth.
"The cloth came from the break room and one of the secretaries had the candles on her desk. She let me borrow them until tomorrow."
Confident hands smoothed the cloth over the table before Booth placed the candles in the center. Brennan dimmed the lights in the office as he lit them. "It's not bad," she said, giving Booth an appreciative smile.
Despite the situation, he was forced to agree. This was them; quiet moments stolen from the hectic moments of the their lives.
"I ordered extra food so you didn't steal all the stuff you claim you don't like," Booth said, taking off his coat and sitting on the floor.
She sat opposite of him. "I don't steal any of your food," she argued, only to follow it by taking a container of food that was in front of him.
"See, right there. That box was in front of me and you stole it."
"Perhaps," she hedged, "but I think that was actually my food that you incorrectly placed on the table."
They ate in companionable silence, the quiet broken only by the sounds of security personnel moving across the floor and gentle laughter as they stole food from each other.
"I have something for you," Brennan said after most of the food was gone, getting up from the floor. "I planned to give it to you later, but now seems as good a time as any."
Booth tried to hide the pleased smile at getting a surprise gift, but failed miserably. He was eager to open the white envelope Brennan handed him.
Into his lap fell quite a few tickets and Booth glanced at them long enough to determine they were hockey tickets, before pulling a map and what appeared to be a schedule from the envelope.
"Your hockey team…the Flyers…" Brennan said slowly trying not to make a mistake as she explained, "are playing several games on the West Coast next month."
His smile growing bigger, Booth stared at the pile of tickets. "How many games, Bones?"
"Four," she said. "There are tickets to four games there. Enough for you and I and Christine. I know she's young and I think it's foolish as she probably won't remember the games, but I thought it could be a family vacation. We'll follow the team for all four games."
"Groupies," Booth said with a delighted laugh. "We'll be groupies."
"Well, yes, we'll go as a group," Brennan said. "That's the way I planned it."
Laughing a little harder, Booth shook his head. "Groupies are people who usually follow a band. It doesn't totally fit here, since it's a hockey team, but the idea is the same."
Hopping to his feet, Booth pulled her into his arms. "This is a great gift, Bones. I can't believe, four games, West Coast," he said, tripping over his words in his excitement. Hugging her tight, he looked over her shoulder, not really seeing, just enjoying having her in his arms.
Until something on the book shelf caught his eye. He pulled back and brushed quickly past her, not quite believing what he saw.
Brennan, a little shocked that he hadn't kissed her, watched him cross the room toward the shelf. Confused until he pulled the book free, she swallowed hard when he brought it back to her.
"You still have this?" he asked, holding it in front of him.
"It was a gift," she explained. "I have never thrown away anything you have given me."
In his hands, he held a book. A coffee table book of injuries illustrated with x-rays. He'd given to her the Christmas he was with Hannah. It had been a painful time for her, and for him as well, now that he looked back on it.
Booth flipped the book over to look in the back. The extra images he'd included were still there, securely attached. It was clear, however, that she'd looked at them many times.
Taking the book from him, Brennan flipped to those images. "Hodgins leg after the Gravedigger case," she said, running her fingers down the image of the damaged bone. "Cam's lungs," she continued, flipping each picture reverently. "Angela's hand, your shoulders." Closing the book suddenly, she hugged it to her chest. "I always wondered how you got Angela to agree, given the situation at the time."
"I begged," he admitted. "She didn't do it for me, anyway, she did it for you." Reaching forward, he ran his fingers down her hand. "I shouldn't have pulled that book out today, Bones. I'm sorry."
Not speaking, Brennan moved to put the book back, only to pause when a folded slip of paper fell at her feet.
Bending over, Booth picked it up and held it out to her. He could see, without even unfolding it, that the paper had been damp at some point. It had dried in that crinkly way paper often did after it was wet, and Booth didn't have to ask why it had been wet to begin with.
He'd written that note. So few words, telling her that they all owed her. Their lives, their jobs, they owed her everything. It had seemed so little at the time. Apparently it had meant more than he'd imagined.
On the day he'd given the book to her, she'd had a ticket to Arizona, if he remembered right. She'd left and hadn't spent Christmas with any of them.
He had no intention of spending another without her.
Taking the paper from him with a small smile, she turned from him and then quickly turned back. "I wasn't going to come back," she admitted, starting at him in that direct way she had. "I had an interview and I wasn't coming back. I hadn't told anyone, not even Angela."
His heart dropped into his feet, despite the fact she was standing right in front of him. He swallowed thickly before speaking. "What brought you back."
Her eyes closing, Booth watched her shoulders shake slightly as she drew a deep breath. It was both a second, and an eternity, before she opened her eyes again. "You did," she said plainly. "It's always been you."
His breath was as shaky as hers. "But…how…Hannah," he muttered, cringing at the name left his lips. "Everything had changed so much. We had changed so much. Why would you come back for me?"
Sighing, she turned again to put the book back on the shelf. "In that note," she said, turning back in time to see him wiping hastily at his cheeks. A little unsettled herself, she pretended not to see. "You told me that without my being in your lives, none of you would be here. Did you really believe that?"
"God, yes," he answered without hesitation. "I would have gambled my life and career away without you. Angela would have long moved on to other things, Hodgins would have died in that car." He still believed, would always believe, she was the glue that held them together. Without her, they all would have drifted away a long time ago.
"I found your logic faulty at the time. One could conceivably argue that if I hadn't been there, none of those things would have happened to begin with. But you are right about one thing, we had changed. And I had already lost you for two weeks and then for eight months. No matter how much my heart was being crushed, I decided walking away from you forever was worse."
Coming forward, Brennan took both his hands in hers. She stared at the sight, his large hands encompassing her much smaller ones, and marveled at the miracle that was them. "So I came back. Because I told Angela a long time ago that nothing happens only once, that she would get another chance. I believed it for her and she got her second chance with Hodgins. I couldn't believe any less for myself."
His head came forward until his forehead bumped against hers. She waited, then tilted her head to kiss him. Instead of passion, as was so often the case, it was filled with nothing but acceptance and love.
"I don't know how I got so lucky, Bones. Whether it's fate or luck or this ex-gambler was finally dealt a winning hand, I finally won the jackpot."
She pulled back. "I'm not something you can win, Booth," she corrected.
"I won your heart," he argued.
Opening her mouth to disagree, she kissed him again instead. It was Valentine's Day, after all. "Maybe," she suggested, after breaking the kiss that was quickly turning passionate, "we could continue this argument at home?"
"Roads should be cleared by now," he reasoned.
Quickly cleaning her office, Booth and Brennan left arm in arm. She allowed Booth to open the door to exit the Jeffersonian for her, and stepped out into dying sunlight.
The pavement dry, not a snowflake in sight, Brennan turned back to look at Booth. "I thought you said it was snowing."
"I wanted some time with you. Our time, in a place that's like our second home. I've watched you solve crimes, take care of the people that matter to you, here. I fell in love with you, here. It just seemed like a place to spend some time on this day neither of us believe in." He flashed a charm smile, hoping she wasn't too upset.
"You don't need the charm smile, I'm not mad. And you're right, I don't believe in Valentine's Day. But I do believe in us."