Author's note: I have no real excuse for wanting to write this, as it's not really my style. It must be the Christmas spirit or something. And yeah, I'm sure this concept's been written ad nauseum. I'll try to make it interesting.
Disclaimer: They're on my Christmas Wish List, so maybe in a few weeks….
She had finally found a reprieve. No current open F.B.I. investigations requiring the expertise of the Jeffersonian's resident forensic anthropologist and her team of "squints".
Brennan leaned forward eagerly to examine the remains of a 17th century male, approximately 67 inches tall, found buried in South America.
Suddenly, she heard "We Wish You A Merry Christmas" being whistled—slightly off-key—by someone behind her.
"Go away, Booth," she said without looking up.
He put on the appearance of feeling affronted, even though her back was still to him. "Is that any way to greet your friend and partner, who has just come to wish you good tidings and cheer?"
This time she turned around and stared him down critically. He resumed his whistling, glancing around the lab.
"What are you doing here, Booth?" she asked.
"Just here to see Cam."
"Her office is down the hall. Do you need me to show you the way?" she asked pointedly, her gloved fingertips literally twitching to get back to examining the skeleton that had waited far too long already.
"She's not in her office," he said. "So what have you got there?"
"Bones," she answered obviously.
Booth rolled his eyes and prodded, "Of…?"
"A South American male, aged 20 to 25 at the time of death, which was the 1600s."
Booth feigned interest. "Cause of death?"
"Unknown. Which is why, if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to my examination."
"Sure, go ahead," he said dismissively. He again resumed his tune.
"Could you please not whistle while I work?" she asked.
He grinned and started humming a few measures of "Whistle While You Work," before abandoning it because she would likely not get the joke.
"What happened to that little bit of Christmas spirit you had last year?" he asked.
"Bah, humbug," she muttered.
He rolled his eyes and sat down in the nearest chair.
She fell back into her zen mode of shutting out everything but the skeleton lying on the table before her.
Tap tap tap…tap tap tap…tap tap tap…
She glared up at Booth menacingly.
Tap-tap.
"Could you please not tap out 'Jingle Bells,' either?"
"Sorry," he said, not sounding very sincere, but putting his hands in his pockets nonetheless.
Suddenly, he spotted Cam and as quickly as he had appeared, he left. Brennan barely noticed.
Five minutes later, he was back. He sat down heavily and stared absently at Brennan, who was still studying the skeleton.
He began humming "Blue Christmas."
Brennan crinkled her forehead and looked up at Booth curiously. It took him a moment to realize she was staring, and he stopped humming and muttered a quick, "Sorry."
"What happened?" she asked.
Booth opened his mouth to tell her, then cringed at the thought and shook his head dismissively.
She stared insistently. Finally, his shoulders slumped and he told her.
"I have this thing this weekend, you know, for Christmas. Anyway, it's with a bunch of my family at my Nonna's house, and every time I get together with them, it's the same questions." He imitated various people. "'Seeley, why aren't you married?' 'When are you going to settle down with someone?' 'What kind of example are you leading for Parker?'" He took a breath. "Cam was gonna come with to offer, you know…moral support."
"Was?"
"Yeah. Was," he confirmed defeatedly.
"Oh," was her only reply. They sat in awkward silence for a few moments, Brennan looking as though she was ready to get back to the bones.
Booth could see her struggling to keep her attention on him, and he felt a small surge of gratitude. "You can go back to your bones now. Thanks for listening," he said.
She offered a small smile and turned eagerly back towards her work. He stood to leave, but paused as he went past her, considering something.
She looked up at him inquisitively and as he met her gaze he laughed and shook his head. He reached out a hand and gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze, saying, "Merry Christmas, Temperance."
She returned his smile and replied with a murmured, "Merry Christmas, Booth."
He continued towards the stairs leading out of the lab. He stopped once more on the threshold of the secured area, debating with himself. Before he could make a conscious decision, however, he turned around and asked, "So what are your plans for this weekend?"
She whipped her head around at the question and stared mutely at Booth. "W—I was…I mean…" Having lost the ability to string together a complete sentence, she pointed lamely at the bones of her 17th century South American.
"Well, I don't think he's going anywhere," Booth smirked.
"But I have time now," she argued. "This is what I do in my free time."
"Indulge me," Booth pleaded. "Just this once, spend Christmas like a normal person."
"What if Russ wants to get together or something?" she reasoned.
"You told me you spent time with him last weekend because he's going to California with some of his buddies for Christmas," Booth challenged.
Her shoulders slumped.
"Look, Bones, if you don't want to go, you don't have to," he said, feeling slightly guilty for trying to guilt her.
"No, I'll go," she said. "I mean, like you said, these remains aren't scheduled to be relocated."
"No, Bones, I said the guy's not going anywhere. It was a joke. What you just said? Total geek."
"Do you want me to accompany you or not?"
He held up his hands in surrender. "Absolutely."
"Okay, then," she replied, crossing her arms.
"Alright."
"Good."
"I'll call you," he said, moving once more to the exit.
She merely waved and turned back to the skeleton.
Booth whistled "Let It Snow" all the way out of the building.
To be continued...
But only if you want me to.