A/N: Ah, the joy of breaking in a new fandom! This may become a series. It does include a bit of talking about RENT, but you don't have to know RENT to read it.

Read and enjoy. I can't think of a clever way to get you to review.

DISCLAIMER: You know what I'm going to say. Really? Fine. I don't own.

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December 18, 11:00 PM, EST

"So?"

They're walking away from the theater, into the dark streets of drug dealers and squatters. You can hardly see the stars from all the smoke blocking the way. It's cold, and she huddles against him a bit for warmth. To any passerby, they're another couple who have just enjoyed the show. To themselves, they're so much more.

"Anthropologically speaking, it was interesting to observe Jonathon Larson's way of life. Although it's improbable that all those people could automatically know the lyrics and tunes to those songs."

He sighs. "No, Bones. Not anthropologically. From the heart."

"I can't speak from my heart. There's no connection from the-"

A look. "Emotionally, then."

Silence.

"Bones?"

"I identified with the character of Roger." It comes abruptly.

"What?"

"He believes everyone has left him, nothing's left. Save his work and his friends, he feels alone. He's sheltered from the world, only interested in his music. And one night, someone shows up. They'll see each other a lot. And they're attracted to each other, and they know it, but he resists. They both resist a bit. But once they give in…" She looked up at him. Her eyes sparkled. He is confused, but he smiles back.

"..She makes him feel whole again. Persuades him to come out of his burrow."

"Hole, Bones. He came out of his hole."

"Booth! I'm making a connection!"

"Sorry."

"He nearly loses her. She was dead, he thought."

That was payback, and he knows it.

"But, she's alive. And although they know they could die anytime, they hold on. Embrace what they have. Live the moment as their last, I believe."

"Yeah, Bones. That's what they do." He grins. They walk along in a comfortable silence.

"I identify with Mimi." He says, shattering it. She looks at him, her brow furrowed. Now it is she who is confused.

"Booth, when were you a protitu-"

"Bones!" Exasperation. "Minus the stripper thing! She's had a lot of lovers, and she finds this other guy...figures him a challenge. She's up to it."

"But as time goes on, she realizes that he's more than that. And she's falling for him. He's a little cold and distant, and she's a little hurt, but doesn't let it get to her. When she nearly dies, she fights back to be with him, but stays for a few moments to say goodbyes to her friend. And, like you said, they live the moment as their last."

They are famous for knowing what the other means. It's no different this time.

There is no confusion, no worries, and no denial. It's not two years ago, not the vivid memory of a forced office mistletoe kiss. He simply tightens his hold around her waist, and she smiles, knowing that it's his alpha male tendencies again. For once, she doesn't mind.

In the middle of the dirty, empty street, he feels something cold on his head. He looks up, and stops to stick out his tongue.

"What?" she asks, as she stops as well, and looks up to find one of the white drops floating onto her nose.

"Snow!" he says, grinning. She laughs, amused at his happiness at such as simple thing like frozen water. He grabs her hands and they twirl together, swirling like the snowflakes that come faster and faster upon their heads. She stops, and he pouts, but she smiles and steps closer, her grin slowly widening.

"Kiss me, it's beginning to snow." she sings.

How can he refuse?