A/N Hello and welcome!
Here is my Secret Santa gift fic to /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ drum roll please /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ 1cosmicgirl!
This is the first year I've participated in the Secret Santa writing festivities and I don't mind telling you, I was nervous! Writing free-style from one's own mind, to meet one's own need is much different than writing a gift for someone who provided a prompt! But you know what? Once I challenged myself to grant cosmicgirl's wish list, the writing-frenzy was on!
So, Happy Christmas, 1cosmicgirl!
I was given three great prompts, and actually, I chose two and combined them…
The first prompt I chose was:
Please include: something from between the pilot & Aliens which supports their wedding vows
The second prompt I chose was:
Please include: A chase, a dance, and a kiss
In my Postscript A/N, I'll make sure to specify what vow I was going for, in case it's not blatantly obvious…
Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own Squat. I'd like to own Squat, but I don't…. I do own this little story line, and I hope you all enjoy it.
Booth sat at the bar nursing his top-shelf bourbon and making small talk with Hodgins while keeping a close eye on the wall clock above the corner stage that housed the band. The Grand Ballroom was decked out elegantly in ornamental golds and reds with natural sprigs of holly and some sort of conifer he couldn't identify specifically filling in for the holiday greens. As his trained eyes travelled the room, he nodded in silent thought, approving of the event coordinator's taste in decor for the annual Jeffersonian Institute's fundraising gala, this year dubbed "Winter Enrichment." He scanned the crowd, mentally cataloguing those present in one of two categories: known or unknown. His natural instinct was to observe and evaluate the evening's attendees as Inconsequential, Heavy-Hitter or To-Be-Determined, and the ones that most concerned him were the TBD's.
Distractedly listening to Hodgins' tale of a recent experiment gone awry, the agent tipped his glass at Arastoo as the intern joined them at the bar.
"Oh, man, Booth, you shoulda seen it," he grinned at Hodgins as the two men shook hands, "I thought for sure we were all going to end up quarantined."
"Yeah," Jack replied good-naturedly, "it might have been a repeat of our first Christmas as a team." Hodgins turned back to Arastoo. "The first year we were partnered with the FBI, there was a little incident on Christmas Eve-"
Booth interrupted his friend with a huff. "Little incident? Little? Jack, we were stuck in the lab for almost 48 hours and I missed my Christmas morning with Parker! I had to talk to my son through the sealed glass doors of the lab for crying out loud…" Dark brown eyes darted around the room, involuntarily sizing-up the the new arrivals before looking back to his friends. "I used to have to fight for every minute I had with Parks, and I was so angry with you guys for screwing up Christmas with my boy… And then, as if the timing wasn't bad enough," his face grew comically irritated, "we were given that damn injection of an antifungal drug… And you know what? I think that was the first time Bones made fun of my beliefs in religion and Christmas… and Santa… She said I was 'superstitious'..." His voice faded away as he recalled that first holiday with the Squint Squad - before any of them were what could be called 'friends'.
"Dude!" Hodgins interrupted, talking to Arastoo. "You should've seen Booth! He was stoned… Totally stoned… This guy does not handle medication very well… HA!" Hodgins laughed as he clinked glasses with his colleague.
"Hey, hey," Booth rebutted, "I wasn't that bad…"
"Oh, you certainly were" Jack rolled his eyes at the agent and prepared to launch into a jolly regale of the team's first Christmas Eve together, but was promptly interrupted.
"Whoa-ho-ho there Bug-boy," Booth reached across and gently pushed Jack's glass away from his mouth before the scientist could take another sip. "We're not revisiting that, now, are we?" He pinned the smaller man with a hard stare and although his mouth was curled into a smile, his eyes were purely menacing.
Hodgins paled at the expression on the much larger, imposing man before him. Regardless of the fact that the two were now friends, Booth still scared the hell out of the conspiracy-theorist on a regular basis. He took a drink quickly, nodding towards the entryway as he swallowed. "Gee, uh, I wonder what's keeping the girls… I would've expected them to be here by now…"
Happy with the shift in conversation, Booth smirked as he nodded to the bartender for a refill. "Yeah, well, you know women, they take friggin' forever to get...dolled up 'n...dressed… 'n gorgeous..." His jaw nearly dropped when he saw his girl coming through the door with Angela and Cam, greeting some big-wig donor as she moved gracefully through the room.
She wore a bright red dress - one that fit her in all the right places, hugging every curve like it had been custom made for her, which, Booth realized, might very well have been the case. The skirt went to the floor and the slit up the side reached mid-thigh. In the back of his mind, Booth had to remind himself that he was not allowed to be jealous of anyone admiring the long, pale leg that peeked through that part in the material every time she moved... Brennan had warned him the night before against his alpha-ways, making him promise not to beat up or threaten to shoot anyone who happened to admire her physique, and Booth had reluctantly made a vow to 'do his best.'
He let his eyes skim the tall length of her, licking his lips when his gaze settled on the dainty anklet that hung loose against her creamy leg. He smiled, remembering the night he gave her the present and the perfectly romantic evening they'd shared. He was pleased that she wore it for the dinner gala - it gave him a certain amount of pleasure that he was able to give her something that she liked enough to show off. His dark brown eyes travelled back up her body, appreciating the way the heels she wore gave her legs an amazing shape, lifted her ass just right, and formed that perfect little arch at the small of her back that he loved so much.
The ladies split up, like a well-rehearsed routine, greeting some of the wealthiest attendees, thanking them for their assumed continued financial support as the Foundation entered into a new year. The donors, being eighty-seven percent male, wouldn't be able to deny making donations when faced with the grateful smiles of Dr's Temperance Brennan and Camille Saroyan and one Mrs. Angela Montenegro-Hodgins. Individually, the women were charming, to say the least. But combine them, back to back in their greetings and well-wishes, and they were quite simply beguiling.
Yes, Booth thought, the Jeffersonian will meet their fundraising goal this year, and possibly even more.
Booth watched as Hodgins and Arastoo left their perches and made their respective ways over to their dates, each playing the dutiful role of appreciative scientist to the very same supporters that their ladies were crooning. Booth, however, remained right where he was, turning his attention immediately back to his partner and admiring the practiced precision with which she wove in and out of the crowd, never getting 'cornered' by any one person for an extended period of time. She was working her way towards his spot near the bar, he knew it. And while he entertained the idea of joining her in the whole elbow-rubbing-and-ass-kissing-routine of those patrons who made her work so much easier by providing the funding with which they purchased a large portion if their electronics, the Head of Major Crimes found himself frozen in place with a goofy grin plastered across his slightly chapped lips.
They had only been together for handful of months, and this was the first major event they'd attended as a 'couple', even though they arrived separately. As he sat watching her expertly work the crowd, his mind was transported back several years.
Eight years, to be exact.
In this very room.
It was, perhaps, the first time she hugged him, as opposed to the normal vice-versa action of him offering her a 'guy-hug' that, he later found out, wasn't fooling her at all, though she let him get away with it anyway. For years.
As she drew closer, little by little, Booth ordered a drink for her, instinctively knowing that she'd want a white wine while hob-knobbing. Once he had two fresh beverages, Booth pushed off the barstool, tossing a healthy tip onto the bar for the man who kept him and his friends well-oiled while waiting for their dates. As he neared, she turned elegantly from the conversation she was having, excusing herself with ease as the older man noticed Booth's arrival and nodded knowingly with a warm smile.
"You look beautiful, Bones," his voice was low and gravelly as he handed her the wineglass. "I was breathless when you walked in." He smiled when her cheeks grew pink, loving that he was able to cause the matter-of-fact, meticulous Dr. Temperance Brennan to blush. "Do you remember the last time we were here? In this ballroom?"
Brennan eyed her partner over the thin rim of her glass, taking in his arched eyebrow. "It was several years ago, if I remember correctly, Booth..." She smiled and accepted his outstretched hand as he guided her to the dance floor, placing her partially finished wineglass next to his empty tumbler on a vacant table as they passed. Booth wrapped his arm around her slender waist and pulled her close, breathing words against her ear as they swayed to music. "We only managed to get in one dance that night, Bones…"
"That was a horrible night… A horrible and wonderful night, Booth…" Brennan let her partner lead her in a slow, barely moving dance, as her mind wandered back to eight years prior, on a night very much like this one.
B/B/B/B
"Brennan?" She answered her phone as she tried to fix the last of her hairpins in place.
"Bones, it's me." He was breathing heavy as he ran down the stairwell of his apartment building at full speed.
"Booth, where are you?" The Anthropologist glanced at the clock on her dresser, noticing that it was only thirty minutes before her partner was due to pick her up for the annual Jeffersonian Christmas Gala. She didn't want to go, but it was mandatory that she make an appearance, and Booth had thankfully accepted her offer for him to join her as her 'plus-one.'
"Listen, Bones," he said, as calm as possible as he launched himself into his FBI-standard-issue black SUV. "I'm uh, I'm gunna have to meet you there… I'm really sorry, I know it's bad form, or whatever, to offer to take a woman on a date then make her find her own transportation, but-"
"It's not a date, Booth. It's a function. You're my partner and I want you there." She interrupted, not entirely certain if she was working harder to convince him or herself that the evening she'd reluctantly admitted to anticipating wasn't a date at all.
Booth chuckled, seeing through her guise, but letting it slip under the circumstances. "Yeah, ok, sorry for the assumption…" He flipped the switch that activated his sirens and pulled out into traffic, doing an immediate u-turn and headed towards Georgetown. "Listen,"
"Booth? Why are your sirens on? What's going on? You didn't answer me, where are you?"
"I'm trying, Bones, gimme a chance, huh?" He checked his side mirrors and switched lanes to exit. Just before he spoke again, a crackling voice came through his law enforcement radio. "Shit, hang on, Bones," he dropped his phone into his cup holder momentarily and Brennan could hear his response to the radioed request. "This is Unit 8351 enroute, I'm approximately eleven miles out and closing."
"Thank you, 8351," came the reply. "Local PD is clearly marked, we have notified them of your location; three Feds enroute."
Booth dropped his radio and went back to his phone. "Hey, Bones," he tried to sound calm, even though he hated this part of his job. "I gotta go assist in a situation. A bank invasion just went down in Georgetown at that new 7to7 Branch. The perps took off after shooting one of the bystanders, and they're leading cops in a high speed chase heading West. I received an All-Law-Enforcement-Requested call since I'm on this side of town," he merged quickly into traffic and changed lanes to avoid slowing vehicles attempting to let him pass.
"Wait, Booth! Come get me! I'll go with you…"
"No, Bones, you got your thing to get to. I'll join you there as soon as I can."
"Booth!" She whined uncharacteristically. "I'm your Partner! You shouldn't be going to this thing without me."
"It's too dangerous, Bones. Yes, you're my Partner, I know. You're the best partner in the world," he assured her, "but I'm not bringing you into this. Besides, I'm already clear across town." He could see lights up ahead where officers were merging from other parts of town. There was a Metro PD cruiser, a DC-Georgetown deputy and another unmarked FBI SUV. "Bones, I gotta go…"
"Booth, I hate going to these things… I'd rather be with you on the chase!" She knew she was being unreasonable, and she told herself that she had to let him hang up, so he could concentrate.
"I know, Bones," his voice softened, reminding himself briefly of the time he consoled her in the pig farmer's barn when she was having an identity crisis shortly after she found out she was really Joy Keenan, not Temperance Brennan. "I'm sorry, I can't go with you right now, but I swear, I will be there as soon as I can." He felt his heart pumping with adrenaline as he caught up with the other vehicles donning their flashing lights and sirens, but at the same time, he hated cancelling out on what he was considering a 'date' with his partner.
"Put on your seatbelt, Booth." She felt a lump in her throat as her heart beat wildly, worrying about the safety of her partner. "Call me, I'll keep my phone with me."
"Go do your thing, Bones. Get those rich people to part with their money so you can make your sciency-magic to solve all these unknown cases, huh?" He was feeling distracted in the intense situation, but he didn't want his partner to know his concerns. "Be safe getting to the hotel. I'll bring you home tonight, so don't drive..:" he promised, making sure she knew he was still planning on attending, and not abandoning her.
"Ok," she sounded lost, even letting his 'magic' comment slip without recourse. "Be careful, Booth."
"You bet, Bones. Talk to you in a bit." He disconnected the call, not able to handle the guilt he felt for not bringing his partner along for this duty. But even if she didn't have an Event at which she was expected, he wouldn't have wanted her in the truck for this. High-speed chases were dangerous and unpredictable, as were out-of-control rookie criminals, which, from the sounds of the preliminary reports he was hearing over his scanner, these bank robbers were just that…
As if in auto-mode, Brennan continued to prepare for the evening. She had a job to do, even if she hated the task at hand. She made a call to Angela to see about car-pooling, but her friend was already on her way to the Gala. Brennan called down to her front desk and requested they procure a cab for her and once the arrangements were made, she gathered her things and made her way downstairs, rehearsing in her mind, the speech she was expected to deliver later that evening.
Brennan had been at the banquet for a little more than an hour and a half and still hadn't heard from her partner. Her calls to his cell were shunted to voicemail and her texts went unanswered. She became more and more anxious by the minute at not being able to reach Booth until finally she thought she was going to fall apart.
Her behavior, she realized, was unsubstantiated and uncharacteristic at best. But for 16 months, she and Booth had been partnered, attending every function and investigating every case together. The notion that he was out there, on the job without her, made her worry, even though she understood that this was an unusual situation and she would, essentially, be of no use to him in this matter. Regardless of the illogical rationale, she still believed she should be with him...just in case…
It was then, as she stood mentally arguing with herself about her independence and his ability to do his job without her, that a man approached and asked for a dance. Absently, she nodded, recognizing him only as a donor from years past, but not consciously able to recall his name. He seemed pleasant enough as they danced to the slow beat produced by the 8-piece band, making small talk about the evening's recognition ceremony during which she introduced her wonder-team, minus the FBI Liaison, Special Agent Seeley Booth.
"Was he part of the police chase I heard about on the news?" The man inquired politely. "I heard them say that several FBI Agents teamed up with local law enforcement during the chase. I sure hope he wasn't one of the injured Agents."
Davis, she thought as she felt her eyes drawn to the door, hoping to see a familiar face walk in. This man's name is James Davis. Wait, what? Injured agents? She snapped her eyes back to the man in front of her, stopping the dance immediately.
"What did you say?"
Startled at the abrupt end to their encounter, and taken aback by the cool eyes that were now piercing him, Mr. Davis tilted his head slightly. "I was asking about your partner, Agent Booth. I said I hope he wasn't one of the agents who was injured in the incident this evening…"
"Where did you hear about injured agents?" She grabbed the tuxedo lapels roughly, forgetting about any sort of grace or etiquette that was expected for the evening. "What did you hear?"
"When I was out in the lobby, I saw on the TV, a news report covering a high-speed chase tonight, between a pair of would-be bank robbers and a combination of local and federal officers. There was an accident and a shooting, leaving three officers injured and both robbers dead." He stared at the woman that he had admired from a distance and realized she had no idea where her partner was, and it was clear that she was worried for his safety. He deduced, accurately, that Booth was involved with the case covered on the news and that his absence for the evening was disconcerting to the Anthropologist, resulting in her constant, obsessive observation of the entryway doors.
"Will you excuse me, please?" She didn't wait for an answer, she just turned from the man and reached into her dress, pulling her phone from where she had nested it in her cleavage. Moving off to the side of the room, hoping to get someplace with less noise, Brennan scrolled to SpeedDial1: Booth, and waited for him to pick up. Much to her dismay, however, she was once again routed to voicemail.
"You've reached Special Agent Seeley Booth. Please leave me a message and I will get back to you as soon as possible. If this is an emergency, please dial 911."
"Booth, where are you, dammit!? I can't reach you…. I'm calling the hospitals…I'll start with the University..." She ended the call hastily and scrolled through her Contacts until she reached GWUH Emergency Room and she hit Send, impatiently waiting for the ER Receptionist to pick up.
"George Washington University Hospital, ER, how may I direct your call?"
"My name is Dr. Temperance Brennan and I need to know if…" She faltered, watching the double doors that connected the Ballroom with the Lobby fly open unceremoniously. As if in slow motion, Brennan watched him enter, scanning the room immediately and settling his searching gaze on her from across the distance. His face was flushed, indicating that he had rushed to get there from wherever he parked. His tuxedo jacket was unbuttoned until he met her eyes, and he subconsciously straightened his attire as a smile curled one corner of his lips.
"Hello? Hello? Dr. Brennan?" The voice on the other end tried to re-establish connection.
"Uhmmm. Never mind.…" She ended the call blindly and started to move towards him.
She looked radiant. He was instantly sorry that he had missed his chance to be the first to see her that evening. Her dress, blue and silver, made her eyes look impossibly bright, even from across the room. Her hair was swept up in a messy, but precise style that allowed little wisps to frame her face and tease her long, creamy neck. Booth wasn't certain he could breathe until his bodily instinct took over and he gasped deeply. She was moving towards him, fast-walking. Trotting. No, she was weaving in and out of tables and chairs as a full run, or at least as full a run as her shoes would allow in the close confines, and he trotted to the bottom of the stairs to greet her.
Without hesitation, without even a trace of a second thought, Brennan launched herself at Booth, crushing him in a full embrace as she threw her arms around his shoulders and pushed her forehead into the side of his neck. "I've been calling you, Booth," she whispered breathlessly, her voice quaking from nerves.
"Yeah, I thought you might've been," he spanned his hands across her back protectively as he inhaled deeply, taking in a lungful of her sweet scent. "My phone broke... It fell from my console and landed in the floor of the truck and I stepped it. I'm sorry, Bones. I got here as soon and I could." Without permission, he pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head, just above her ear. "I didn't mean to make you worry."
"I just heard that there were injuries and shootings and deaths and…" she fought for control… she was making a scene and Temperance Brennan didn't like making a scene. "And I couldn't find you, Booth…"
"How did you hear about that already?" He was surprised that the news travelled so quickly to this well-to-do function; he assumed that they would be all too busy congratulating each other on being kings and queens to be worried about current events. He didn't realize until just then that he had caused his partner a great deal of pain. "Forgive me, Bones. I didn't mean to make you worry so much…"
Brennan pulled back and looked up into her partner's handsome face, admiring his fine features. "You're not allowed to get hurt, Booth. And you're not allowed to go on any more high-speed-chases without me…"
Searching her face for any sign of mockery, he realized his partner was being completely honest in her reprimand and law-laying. "OK. I'll do my best, Bones."
She nodded, knowing that he couldn't make an absolute promise to avoid either of the rules she'd just imposed. But she was satisfied that he was willing to entertain her ideas and she loosened her hold on his neck.
For several moments, they got metaphorically lost in each other's eyes, letting gazes skip across features and settle on parted lips before regaining eye contact. "You must be starved," she finally whispered. "But you missed dinner service…" She moved her clear blues between his dark irises and quickly glanced down at the nearest table. Her hand darted out and grabbed a little silver treat, offering it to him from her open palm. "We can stop at the diner when we leave, if you'd like. I didn't eat much dinner either… I was worried about you."
He let his eyes fall to her hand, where long wiry fingers extended in his direction, offering him a pair of Hershey Kisses. Booth gingerly lifted one from her palm and left the other centered on her hand.
"Here, I'll have one Kiss, you take the other…Thanks, Bones..." He smiled softly as they each peeled back the wrappers slowly, never breaking eye contact. The friends enjoyed the sweet candy, neither ignorant to the underlying sexual tension that was threatening to boil to the surface or double-entendre represented by the tiny chocolate treat.
"Now, you owe me a dance, Agent Booth," she tilted her head with a smile. "I've been stuck dancing with men I don't care to dance with anymore. I want to dance with my partner…" She turned in an about-face fashion and stalked towards the dance floor, knowing full-well that he'd follow.
She was right. Of course. He would follow her anywhere and he was quick to trot up behind her, placing his hand on the small of her back and ushering her to the far corner of the dance floor.
"You missed my speech," she pointedly stated. "You would have liked it, it was very good..."
"Without a doubt, Bones," he grinned at her lack of humility. "I'm sure it was great." He held her firmly, but with the utmost respect as they swayed to the music, fighting his primal instincts to kiss her and pull her close.
"I can tell it to you later, if you want." She looked up at him expectantly.
His grin widened to a toothy charm-smile. "That'd be awesome, Bones. I'd love to hear it."
Satisfied with his answer, Brennan blushed ever-so-slightly and drifted closer, relishing the feeling of her partner's firm body against hers, the gentle tickle of his breath against her neck as he sighed and tightened one arm around her. Wishing she could kiss him, but knowing that was out of the question, Brennan did the only thing she could do that would satisfy her need to be close to Booth. She paused their dance while she kicked off her shoes, then proceeded to lower her head to his shoulder, pressing her forehead against the side of his neck as she inhaled deeply. His masculine scent was spicy, and warm, and Boothy. She could feel the pressure of his pulse point throbbing against her cool face and she let out a shaky breath, thankful to whatever force was in the Universe that brought him back to her safely, regardless of however irrational it sounded, even to herself, to view the Universe in that manner.
And they danced.
B/B/B/B
Booth looked down into her pale eyes and grinned, flexing his fingers possessively against the thin material of her holiday dress as it hugged her hip. "You looked stunning that night, Bones… I was so jealous at the idea that other people had seen you before I had the opportunity to…"
Momentarily lost in her own memory of that particular Holiday Ball, Brennan toyed with the short hairs at the back of his neck. "I was so afraid the worst had happened…when I heard about the injuries and casualties, and I couldn't reach you by phone... but then I saw you finally come through those doors," she glanced over in the general direction, reliving the relief she felt eight years prior. "I couldn't help but run to you…"
"I wanted to kiss you so bad… It took all my energy, Bones, every last ounce of focus, not to swoop in and seize your perfect lips… I wanted to pull all those things outta your hair and let it fall down to your shoulders…." He could have gone on and on about all the times he'd wanted her over the years, not to mention all the naughty things he fantasized about doing to her. Now that they were together, though, he didn't have to tell her about it, he could just...
"You know," she grinned coyly and refocused on his dark chocolates. "Nothing's stopping you now…"
"Mmm…" Booth growled, husky and low, approving her keen observation. "A locomotive couldn't stop me now…" He craned his head as she arched her neck upwards until they met in the middle, slowing their dance to a near stand-still in the middle of the dance floor. Despite the other couples moving around them, Booth and Brennan felt themselves drift into a solitary place where only they dwelled, and only they mattered. As was often the case, the world around them ceased to exist.
And so, amidst memories of their first Christmas, quarantined to a lab when the Anthropologist mocked the FBI Agent for his superstitious beliefs in mythological beings and Santa Claus, and long-suppressed memories of high-speed-chases ending in a sweet dance beneath the cheesy mirrored ball hanging from the ceiling, the couple kissed, showing everyone present that they had finally found each other in the way they were meant to be nine years earlier at a time with neither was ready nor prepared for the adventures that laid ahead. The 'just-partners' had come full circle, protecting and defending, bickering and supporting, chasing one another away and then pulling closer together before finally accepting each other for who they were, and for what they would become, and for where they were meant to be. For after everything they'd been through, it was blatantly obvious that Dr. Temperance Brennan and Special Agent Seeley Booth were destined to be together, and finally, they were.
Postscript A/N
So, what did you think?
Do you know which vow I was honing in on? In Brennan's letter to Booth, she made mention that Booth is 'superstitious and believes in ghosts, angels and quite possibly, Santa Claus.' In the episode "Man in the Fallout Shelter", Booth is the focus of Brennan's misdirected hostility towards the Christmas holiday, and she badgers him about his Superstitious beliefs and misconceptions.
Outside of TV-show-canon, I also incorporated the little portion of Brennan's vow about viewing the Universe differently, when I incorporated her inner thoughts of thanking the Universe for bringing Booth back to her safely. And then I played with Booth's vow with regards to them chasing each other in my wrap-up paragraph.
As for the second prompt, a chase, a dance and a kiss…. well, I think those are pretty obvious. Though, I played with the kiss portion a little extra because he barely kisses her when she hugs him, and then she gives him the Hershey Kisses… until finally, they KISS! About time, right!? LOL
Please leave a review and let me know your thoughts! I'd love to hear from you!
Regardless of what holiday you celebrate, or if you simply celebrate the Winter Solstice, I wish you all the best for a happy and healthy season.
Thank you, everyone, for embracing me in this community and for supporting all of the writers in this fandom with your kind words of reassurance and encouragement. It takes a lot of energy to write and post fics and it means the world to us to know that someone out there is enjoying the fruits of our labor.
With peace and love, my friends,
~jazzy