Note: Thanks for all of the awesome ideas! I really feel like I should have started this earlier. I'm going to try to do one each day this week, which will be … next to impossible, but it's good to have goals, even when they're totally unrealistic.

Title: Santa Claus is Coming to Town

Background info: Set 3 or 4 years in the future

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"Can I hang up my stocking now?"

Brennan placed the carrot sticks she was preparing into the container and pulled another carrot out of the bag. "It's only 3:15, Christine. We'll hang your stocking once we get home from Auntie Angela and Uncle Jack's."

Christine put her hands on her hips, her serious expression looking out of place on her young face. "Maybe we should do it now so that we don't leave it to the last minute."

One of the strangest things about having a child, her mother thought, was hearing her own words reflected back to her. "Later, Christine."

Christine flopped dejectedly in front of the fireplace. "When are we going to Michael's house?"

"Soon."

Brennan watched as her daughter rolled onto her stomach, propped herself up on her elbows, and stared into the empty fireplace.

"Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"How does Santa fit down the chimney? It's really small and Santa's kind of fat."

Brennan froze momentarily, then chose her words carefully. "I understand that Santa is magic, Christine."

"Oh."

The child sat in contemplation for a moment, and Brennan took advantage of the time. She finished cleaning the vegetables and snapped the lid onto the container, placing it in the fridge.

"I thought magic wasn't real."

Before Brennan could formulate an appropriate response, the door opened and Booth stepped inside. Christine sprang from the floor and ran to him, leaping into his arms. "Daddy!"

Booth swung her in a circle, grinning as she squealed. When he'd had enough, he set her down, laughing at her protests. He took off his shoes and pulled a hanger out of the closet. As he hung up his coat, Christine said, "Daddy?"

He wrinkled his nose at her and she laughed. "Daddy, is magic real?"

Booth shot a concerned look at Brennan, who helpfully explained, "She asked how Santa got down the chimney, and when I said it was magic, she asked if magic was real."

Booth swung his daughter up in his arms. "Magic must be real, pumpkin, or Santa wouldn't be able to bring you presents."

Christine carefully examined his face, then shrugged. "I don't know why he doesn't just use the door."

Booth laughed. "I don't either."

"He's funny. Daddy? Can I hang up my stocking now?"

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Supper at the Hodgins' was a joyful meal, filled with good food, laughter, and precious friends. After the meal, they sang carols, the children belting them out at the top of their lungs. By the time they got home, it was later than usual, and Brennan rushed Christine through her bath. When she was snuggly dressed in her pajamas, she rushed down the stairs to hang her stocking by the fireplace.

When it was placed to her satisfaction, she carefully carried over a glass of milk and a plate with two cookies. The ritual complete, she reluctantly started up the stairs.

She was three steps from the top when the doorbell rang. By the time Brennan answered it, Christine was just out of sight.

Brennan squinted at the man in the Santa costume. "Dad? Is that you?"

"Quiet, honey", he whispered, then loudly boomed, "Ho Ho Ho!"

From the second floor came the pattering footsteps of a running child. She skidded to a stop at the top of the stairs, then carefully grabbed the railing and slowly walked down the stairs. Halfway down, she stopped. "Santa? Is that really you?"

Santa pulled a scroll from his pocket and made a big production of unrolling it enough to read a name. "Christine! Just the girl I've been looking for. I see that you've been good this year. Is that right?"

Christine nodded, awe-struck. Santa tucked the scroll away and set the bag he carried onto the floor. From the sack, he pulled three wrapped presents. With Christine and her parents following, he made his way to the stocking. He set the presents on the floor and put a handful of candy into the stocking, making sure a candy cane was sticking out the top.

When he was done, he made his way back to the door. He picked up his bag and said, "Merry Christmas!" He turned to leave, but stopped to accept Christine's hug.

"Thank you, Santa!"

He waved, and walked out into the night.

Booth took his daughter by the hand. "Come on, pumpkin. Bed time."

As they walked up the stairs, Brennan heard Christine say, "I knew he'd use the door."

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