This is "The Man In The Fallout Shelter", told in poetry format, with the missing scene that we wanted so much. Super major fluffy. Like snow :P


T'was the Christmas day night and you would not believe,

That some had been quarantined since Christmas Eve.

Alone for Christmas, they had only each other.

No family traditions. Oh what a bother.

Throughout the museum the disease pores spread,

Could have infected every head.

They had to do something while they wait.

"It's Christmas," they thought. "Let's decorate!"

Cried Goodman: "Presents!" Cried Angela: "A tree!"

And so they made Christmas how it should be.

Soon they were free, the disease disappeared

In time for the best night of their years.

But one did not leave; she chose to stay,

Because Temperance Brennan hates Christmas Day.

The painful memories were too much to face,

Down her cheeks the tears did chase.

She sat and peeled and ripped and tore

The wrapping off the presents her parents had bought.

The gifts for a fourteen year old girl, she saw.

She looked down at them and cried some more.

Her parents missing; both presumed dead.

A thought she couldn't remove from her head.

Angela had a father, Booth had a son,

But when it came to family, Brennan had none.

Zack had the biggest family of all,

While Brennan's was extremely small.

She cried in loss and loneliness that day

Not knowing that someone who cared looked her way.

Seeley Booth watched from the door

Knowing exactly what the tears were for.

He wrapped her in a comforting embrace,

Then looked into her pale face.

Their eyes locked; the chemistry was there

As he pulled back a lock of her hair.

He leant down to her ear, she put up no fight:

"Come to my house and stay the night."

She obliged, of course, and as she pulled on her coat

With happiness did Booth's heart float,

For they love each other and we know it's true.

The only ones that don't see? Those two.

At Booth's home, against his chest she wept.

She cried a lot, but soon she slept.

Laying on his sofa, wrapped in his arms,

Brennan knew she would come to no harm.

The memory forgotten for a year, less a day.

Booth's tenderness had chased it away.

Gently, he lifted her and cradled her head.

Gently, he placed her down, on his bed.

Covered her with a blanket, kept her snug,

Resisted the urge to kiss and to hug

And to lay down beside her, as he so wished

Instead, just her cheek, with one finger, he touched.

With all his self-control he wrenched himself away,

Knowing he'd see her when night became day.

And he said in a whisper, as he switched out the light:

"Merry Christmas Temperance. I love you. Goodnight."