Beta: SouthurnLady – Amazing women who I'm happy to call a friend.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my time, imagination and ability to entertain.
This is a huge chapter by my standards, but it wrote itself...what can I say, I hope you enjoy it.
Chapter 3 – Come on Bones, it's Christmas Eve!
Dawn was poking fingers into the darkness of the night, some things never change Booth usually woke up briefly in the predawn often just acknowledged the day before usually drifting back to sleep.
This time instead of just acknowledging the start of a new day, he noticed not only the faint tinges of light beginning to color the sky pink. But couldn't help notice Bones was still snuggled into his side exactly in the same position as they'd fallen asleep in. A quiet grin curled his lips as his eyes fluttered shut deciding to enjoy it a few minutes more. But then the bitter cold began to register, the cabin had turned into an ice box. He quietly extricated himself from Bones, she moaned slightly at having lost the heat his body provided. He carefully pulled the blankets up to her chin smothering a laugh as she settled into the spot he'd just vacated.
He quickly stepped behind the sofa and shed his sweats exchanging them quickly for his nearly frozen jeans, he draped his sweats on the back of the sofa. He made a mental note to set his watch alarm to add more wood to the fire during the night, breathing out he could see his breath in the dim light of dawn. Quickly grabbing a sweatshirt from his go bag he pulled it over his head and quickly moved to the hearth.
Moving the fire guard aside, he saw immediately saw the fire had burnt itself out hours ago. Glancing back he saw Bones hadn't stirred since he'd left her moments before, quietly he stacked the wood in the hearth, he lit it as he had the night before. The dry wood immediately began to burn, crackling loudly but the heat it threw off impacted him immediately as he stepped back from the warm glow.
Admiring the flames for a moment, he moved softly to the window and immediately saw signs of a significant storm. The sky was heavy with thick clouds as the sun on the horizon broke through with streaks of pink light. He didn't have to be a sailor to know they were in for a big storm.
He moved quietly to the kitchen and quickly put together a pot of coffee. Once done he lit the stove and set the pot on the burner, grateful the cabin had propane fueled stove. Once done as though on cue his stomach grumbled loudly, he murmured, "Easy boy, I'm making breakfast in a minute I'm just hoping it's not beets."
Booth rummaged the cabinets, the early morning rays of the sun helped him a bit. Finding only a few cans of corned beef hash, he shook his head; he knew Bones wouldn't touch it. He then decided to investigate the root cellar; as soon as he opened the door he immediately spotted a prize. A shelf to the right of the stairs held a can of Vermont maple syrup and next to that a clear sealed container of add water pancake mix. Looking skyward he murmured quietly, thank you God, we won't have to eat beets.
Bones awoke to the soft crackle of the fire and of Booth making noise in the kitchen. Instead of opening her eyes she snuggled further into the warm covers conscious of Booth's unique scent, a mixture of pine soap and something so uniquely his. She could hear Booth humming as he prepared god knows what for breakfast but the distinct smell of coffee filled the air and her nose twitched in recognition. Slowly she sat up and pushed her sleep tossed hair back from her face. Booth seeing the movement smiled, "Bones I thought I was going to have to wake you."
Bones slipped from the covers and stretched her sleepy limbs, Booth sipped his coffee while covertly watching the way Bones t-shirt rode up exposing if possible even more of her thighs. Deciding he needed to keep his partner at least modestly covered if he was going to make it through the next few days suggested, "Hey Bones, why don't you slip on the sweatpants I left on the back of the sofa, they'll keep you warm."
"Thanks Booth, it's quite warm by the fire but I bet it's chilly in the bathroom. I nearly froze to death last night when I changed," Bones said as she slipped Booth's sweatpants over her limbs tightening the draw string at the waist.
She smiled then said, "Speaking of which I'll be right back." Booth watched as she stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Booth turned toward the cabinet to pull a mug out for Bones, he poured her a cup, it was black but at least it was coffee. He turned back to the griddle he cleaned up earlier which was now piping hot and ready for the pancake batter he'd already prepared. Pouring it on the hot griddle it sizzled as it hit the pan, he turned down the flame not wanting them to scorch.
Hearing a door open behind him he turned to see a freshly washed Bones pick up her coffee and lean into the counter to watch him cook. Quirking a brow he smirked, "What? Hasn't a man prepared you breakfast before?"
Bones smiled and answered, "Yes I have Booth, but I have to say it's been a while." Sharing probably a little more than Booth needed but denying the truth didn't seem to have a point.
Booth smiled and said, "Well considering you made me dinner last night, I'd say it's only fair."
Then added, "Why don't you set the table," gesturing towards the griddle he added, "Pancakes will be ready in a few minutes."
Bones nodded as she reached into the cabinet to retrieve plates and silverware, her thoughts wandered as she thought, I'm stranded but I'm enjoying myself, so unlike me.
After taking care of their initial hunger with a stack of pancakes, Booth refilled their coffee mugs and updated her, "Bones, did you notice the sky this morning?"
"Only that it appears to be very overcast," she picked up her cup and wandered towards the windows.
Booth followed her, and stood just to the left of her within a hair's breath, Bones closed her eyes briefly responding to the heat of his body. Involuntarily she shivered, seeing this Booth rubbed his hands along her arms in an attempt to warm her not realizing that cold wasn't what Bones was feeling. Keeping his eyes focused on the sky he said, "When I got up the sky was pink. You know what they say Pink skies in the morning sailors take warning. Pink skies at night sailors delight."
Stepping away feeling a need to put a little distance between herself and Booth, she teased, "Booth you do know that it's the moisture in the air that makes the skies pink. Hence this is why we often have storms that follow pink skies."
Booth nodded, "Yeah I know Bones, but I find it interesting that a wives tale is actually a fairly accurate predictor of inclement weather." Booth added closing the subject, "Anyway I'd think we should stock up as we can, I'll bring in more wood and I think we should investigate the loft and the root cellar further. We've already found enough to keep us feed for a day or two maybe we can find a few other things to make things a little more comfortable."
Slowly she nodded seeing his point, "Booth maybe you can find some footwear in the loft, neither of us have warm footwear just our gum boots which keeps them dry but not warm."
Booth nodded and immediately returned to the kitchen area with Bones following behind. They made quick work of the morning breakfast dishes as they teased who would be responsible for lunch.
A bit later dressed, both had changed into jeans and sweaters, stashed in there go-bags. Bones stepped out of the bathroom having just finished cleaning up and said, "Booth what you see is it, you have now seen my entire wardrobe."
Booth laughed, "Well Bones, I have a sweatshirt I can spare but I'm getting to the end of the line myself."
"Well since we don't know how long it'll be. Why don't you give me your laundry and I'll wash it after we've investigated the cabin a bit, so we'll have something clean for the morning," Bones said.
"Nah, you don't have to do that Bones I can manage I just need the basics washed," Booth said.
"Well why don't we pile them together and who ever doesn't make lunch washes?" Bones bargained.
"Hmmm, not bad idea Bones," Booth said as he found a small wicker basket to gather their unmentionables. Bones snickered as she placed her lacy lingerie in the basket and watched Booth turn away and teased, "Booth I think you've seen women's underwear?"
"Something you have to learn about men Bones, if we see women's lingerie we imagine the owner wearing it," Booth smirked raising his hands in a sign of surrender, "Hey I didn't' make the rules, that's just how it works."
Bones remained silent as she took the basket from him and placed it inside the bathroom a smile curled her lips when she returned, "So other than this fascinating debate over my undergarments, what do you prefer root cellar or loft?"
A bit later they'd decided to split up, Booth went to the loft and Bones to the root cellar.
Booth climbed the stairs at the edge of the wall. The rough treads were covered with small braided rugs; seeing the worn spots, he wondered who had lived here, what this cabin had meant to the owners. When he reached the landing, the dust, if possible, was even thicker up here. The dim light of the overcast sky was filtering thru the wide window at the end of the loft, giving him enough light to look around without a flashlight which he'd given to Bones.
His eyes immediately landed on a few much-needed winter supplies: a few shovels, a few pairs of snow boots. He bent to pick up a pair of the snow boots and noticed they were half a size larger than he normally wore. Next to them was a pair of ladies snow boots; not sure of Bones shoe size, he decided to take them down as well. He immediately placed them next to an area just at the top of the stairs thinking anything useful he'd place there to make taking them downstairs easier.
He continued to move through the space and also found a few winter parkas, hats, gloves, etc. He opened a trunk and his eyes immediately spotted a Northwestern Wildcats sweatshirt and knew exactly who'd appreciate it. Lifting it out the truck, all he could smell was the sweet smell of cedar; he immediately set it aside and found a few more sweatshirts they could use.
He added the sweatshirts to the other items he'd found. Looking around, he noticed a small truck placed on top of a stack of wooden crates, it was battered with age and use, but something about it had him move forward to investigate. As he drew closer, he smiled at the various pictures and travel stickers stuck to its surface, his fingers traced the aged picture of a young man standing next to his aircraft. He had a similar picture of his father in an old album he had tucked into the back of his closet. Tracing the picture, he pictured his father's face instead of this stranger; chasing that image away, Booth opened the treasure box. Moving layers of tissue paper aside, he spotted a journal with ornaments carefully wrapped in layers below it.
Bones had taken the flashlight Booth had provided her and was thrilled with the treasures she'd found. She stacked them neatly on a table near the stairs; the root cellar had perfectly preserved and protected a number of treasures.
Shelves of canned fruit and vegetables lined an entire wall. Using her flashlight she found string beans, carrots, peas, peaches, apples, applesauce, pears, sauce and even a canned ham. On another stack of shelves she found sealed containers of dried milk, flour, pasta, rice and even a can of shortening. She murmured softly to herself, "At least we won't starve."
Gathering her finds, she added them to her stash, realizing she needed something to carry everything back upstairs. She moved the flashlight from shelf to shelf looking for a container large enough to carry everything back up. Her flashlight picked up the glint of glass in the corner of the cellar; she realized the flash was coming from bottles of wine. Moving forward, she picked up one and realized it was red; picking up another the homemade label said cranberry. Thinking these would be great additions; she added them to her stash and realized she really needed to find something to carry everything back up.
Going back to the original task, she flashed the light high and saw several peach baskets hanging from the ceiling rafters. Looking around, she realized that although she was tall, she just wasn't tall enough. She then spotted an old chair propped up in the corner and moved it under the baskets. It dawned on her it would be difficult to hold the flashlight, stand on the chair and retrieve the basket. She decided to prop the flashlight on a nearby shelf pointing its beam towards the baskets. Carefully, she stood on the chair and though it shook, it seemed to hold her weight, so, she removed the first basket with ease and lowered it to the floor. The next basket was a bit further out, but she thought she could manage it. Stretching to the fullest extent of her reach, just as she'd managed to grasp the handle, the chair slipped sideways. The sickening snap of the chair leg, rang out like a gun shot in the quiet of the root cellar. She screamed as she slammed sideways into the shelving, and quietly she crumpled to the floor unconscious.
Opening the journal, the first entry Booth found was First Christmas 1967. Just as his eyes skimmed further, he heard a scream…without a thought or conscious effort, he set down the journal and tore down the stairs and ran to the root cellar door. Immediately, he spotted an unconscious Bones, flew down the remaining stairs pushing the broken chair out of way, and picked up her wrist feeling for a pulse. When he felt her steady beat, he released the breath he'd been holding since he'd first seen her unconscious body. Realizing he'd better assess the damage, he brushed the hair off her face and called out softly, "Bones, it's me, Booth. Talk to me Bones?"
He quickly moved his hands along her arms and legs and realized there were no broken bones. Looking back at her too pale face, he spotted a rapidly swelling bump on the side of her head. Deciding a cold damp floor wasn't a good place for an unconscious Bones, he scooped her in his arms, her head sliding softly onto his shoulder. For a moment, he treasured the feel of her in his arms, murmuring softly, "Bones, you have absolutely no idea, do you?" Pulling her closely to him, he kissed the top of her head and quickly carried her up the stairs.
He then lowered her to the sofa and covered her with one of the quilts they'd used the night before. Just as he pulled the quilt up, Bones groaned and her hand immediately moved to the side of her head. She murmured, "Booth, what happened?"
Sighing with relief, he smiled at her confusion, "You knocked yourself out. How'd you manage that?"
Focusing on Booth's eyes so close to her own she said softly, "I only remember trying to reach for a peach basket and the chair leg snapped," sighing, she added, "I imagine I was thrown into the shelving."
Booth nodded, "Yeah, looks that way, Bones, looks like you're going to have a headache for awhile." He placed a gentle finger under her chin and lifted it so their eyes met, her eyes appeared to be clear, he asked, "Do you feel sick, are you dizzy?"
Bones thought for a moment before answering and said, "No, I feel fine but I wish I had some ice for this bump, swelling causes more pain than the actual blow."
Booth smiled, then said, "Now, that I can help with." He quickly reached for his go bag and pulled out his first aid kit; snapping the lid open he spotted the instant ice pack. He quickly handed it to Bones, "Ask and you shall receive."
Smiling her thanks she activated it and placed it against the bump on her head, wincing as the heated skin met the ice cold of the pack. Booth asked, "Do you want some aspirin?"
Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment; she opened them slowly and asked, "Do you have ibuprofen in your kit? It would reduce the swelling better."
After handing her two, he quickly moved to the sink and pumped a glass of cold water for her. He watched her take the IB's and the water. Once he was assured she was fine he asked, "Bones, why peach baskets?"
Bones smiled, "I found a feast, Booth. The root cellar had so many treasures. I was getting the peach baskets to make carrying everything upstairs easier."
"What did you find?" Booth asked.
"I found a canned ham, vegetables, rice, flour, pasta, sauce, even wine," Bones' voice grew excited as she talked about her finds.
"Great, at least I won't be eating beets for Christmas dinner, good job," Booth laughed.
He added, "How about I bring everything up and see what you found."
"Sounds good, did you find anything?" Bones asked.
Booth smiled, "As a matter of fact I did; how about I get everything into the kitchen and we can look over our finds, it almost feels like Christmas having all these surprise gifts."
Bones laughed, "I'm surprised you didn't classify it as a Christmas miracle?"
"Nah, just luck and we deserved a little, don't you think, we could be stuck here for a few more days. You relax and I'll get everything moved."
Bones nodded as her eyes fluttered shut, the IB's were starting to work and she was confident she didn't have a concussion so she should be fine if she just let the medicine and ice do their magic.
Booth moved quietly down into the root cellar. The flashlight was still propped up where Bones had left it. He had enough light to grab the basket and began to load them with their new found stash. He smiled, looking at the jars Bones had found; they had indeed been lucky to find such a well stocked cabin. He hated to think how they'd have fared out in the bitter cold last night. He quickly moved everything into the kitchen and placed the peach baskets on the counter.
He glanced at Bones, noticing her color was getting better. He moved quickly to climb the stairs of the loft and filled his arms with everything he found. Before leaving, he glanced back at the Christmas box and then inspiration hit him. He'd make Christmas for Bones. He smiled as he thought I'll make sure it's one to remember too.
His arms already heavily loaded, he quickly moved his finds onto the kitchen table and then returned to the loft. He picked up the box and then his eyes fell on a tree stand propped up against the back wall, picking it up he carried them both back down the stairs.
Bones opened her eyes just as he'd reached the bottom step, seeing the tree stand she asked confused, "Booth, why did you bring down a tree stand?"
He blushed as though caught with his hand in the cookie jar and stuttered, "Ah, I thought if you were up to it, we'd go find a tree…there seems to be quite a few blue spruces in the area."
"Booth, isn't that silly, we don't have anything to cut it with?" Bones questioned.
Booth smiled, "I spotted an ax on the porch yesterday, ah, come on, Bones, it'll be fun."
"Well, okay, if you really want to go to all that trouble, I'd love to get out before we get snowed in, the sky doesn't look promising," she answered.
Booth placed the Christmas box down and put the stand on top of it, he said, "I found this box of ornaments in the loft, thought we could use them."
Bones looked at the box and noted its worn surface covered in decoupage, "Looks like a lot of history, I wonder if the family that owns this cabin came here often?"
Booth smiled, "Well I found a journal in the box, I was starting to read it when you screamed."
"I screamed?" Bones asked surprised.
"Hey, don't feel bad I'm glad you did, who knows how long you'd be down there if you hadn't?" Booth replied.
Bones played with the loose knots that held the crazy quilt together, embarrassed she said, "I'm slightly embarrassed to have made you panic like that. Thank you for rescuing me."
Booth had been putting more wood on the fire and asked, "Bones, look at me?"
Once her eyes met his, he said, "You know I am suppose to protect you, it's my job."
Bones shook her head exasperated, "I can protect myself Booth!"
This was an age old argument for them, Booth smiled, glad she was up to bickering with him, "I know, Bones, really no one I trust more to cover my back. But, it doesn't change the fact that part of my duties to the Jeffersonian is to protect you."
Bones pouted, "It's silly, if you'd only give me that gun license this wouldn't be an issue."
Rather than answer Booth decided to change the subject, "Do do you want to see what I found in the attic?"
"Yes, I believe I would," Bones threw off the quilt and stood, she wobbled for a moment but quickly steadied herself.
Booth having seen the wobble reached for her, placing an arm around her waist and said, "Bones, you alright?"
Bones looked up, his face was so close she could nearly feel the stubble that had grown overnight, "Yes, of course, Booth, I just should have gotten up more slowly."
Releasing her he said, "Well, if you feel dizzy don't keep it a secret."
"I promise I won't, let's see what you found," Bones said her voice rose with excitement, she, like Booth was truly beginning to enjoy this out of life experience that had been sprung on them.
Bones moved to the table and began to look through Booth's treasures; she smiled when she lifted the Wildcat sweatshirt, "Ah… someone graduated from Northwestern."
"Thought you'd appreciate that," Booth said with a laugh.
"I found us some boots, a few down jackets, gloves and hats, not bad, huh?" Booth asked, waiting to be praised like a small boy.
Bones smiled, "Yes you did very well Booth. Looking at this, I think we can manage to get that tree you're so looking forward to chopping down." She shook her head and teased, "I just think you want to act like Paul Bunyan and chop down your own tree." She paused then smiled brightly and added, "I can't believe we're stranded and having such a normal Christmas, feels abnormal somehow, I never have normal Christmases."
"Well at least it'll be memorable," Booth replied, as he slipped one of his newfound sweatshirts over his head. He then asked, "Do you feel like taking a walk, are you up to it?"
"I'm fine Booth and the cold will feel good; the cabin is getting a bit warm and we should probably stock up on firewood, I'm convinced we'll have snow tonight," Bones said trying to reassure him.
"Well, it'll be a white Christmas, Bones, just like it should be," Booth said, as he helped her into one of the down coats he'd found.
Taking her shoes off, she slipped into the smaller pair of boots, and her eyes lit up as she remarked, "What are the odds you'd find a coat and boots that would fit me?"
"Well, considering I don't gamble anymore that's not a fair question, but I'd say they were pretty long," Booth said, as he slipped his own boots on…equally surprised that they weren't swimming on his feet.
Once bundled up, they stepped out onto the porch as the cold slapped at their faces, but, fortunately, the wind they were sure to get later with the storm hadn't started, making it bearable.
The snow crunched under their feet as they made their way down a path towards the water in the distance using it as a compass point.
The forest was quiet, Bones broke the silence and said, "You know, Booth, animals know of approaching storms, it's believed they pick up on barometric pressure changes."
"Yeah I figured it had to be something like that," Booth said, then changing the subject he asked, "Are you upset your trip will be delayed?"
Bones glanced at Booth as she said quietly, "No, I find I'm enjoying this."
Booth smiled, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder pulling her closer and said, "I'm glad Bones, I think this has the makings of a memorable Christmas, don't you agree?"
"You do know it's only a holiday to sell merchandise right, Booth?" Bones said seriously.
"Bones, you aren't going to drag me into an argument on religion, you know how I feel about that and nothing you say will change it," Booth said firmly.
Bones looked at his face and she thought, no I don't believe I could.
Then changing tact's she asked, "What makes you so sure you're right?"
Seeing she was curious but also serious he answered, "Bones, when you're a sniper the only thing you're certain of is your gun, your training and your God. If God had decided to end my time, I'd have died in the field or gone crazy long ago after the weight of what I had done had crippled me. Neither happened and I credit God for keeping me safe and sane."
"But, Booth, you have no proof. How can you be so sure?" Bones asked again unconvinced.
"I was at a crossroads seven years ago, and I think God decided that you'd make the difference and brought you into my life," Booth said quietly looking away almost cringing from what he knew would be her argument.
"Booth, if anything, that was a coincidence or, in the vernacular which you'd appreciate," she smirked, "fate." Bones stopped walking having half turned toward Booth. This question had puzzled her for as long as she could remember.
"Fate to me is an extension of God's influence…just like God gave me instincts for seeing the truth or even shooting straight, these are his gifts to me and how I use them justifies His having bestowed them on me," Booth said.
"But, it's an old wives tale, religion was developed to focus the masses. To have them follow one authority in society, be good or you'll be punished, similar to the Santa clause myth," Bones said, her voice firm with her convictions.
Booth picked up her hand and then looked into her face and asked, "Do you trust me, Bones?"
Bones nodded, "Implicitly."
Booth smiled, "Wouldn't you call that a form of faith?"
Bones nodded slowly, "Yes, I believe I would, I've always had faith that you'd save me."
"Well I place my faith in God that I'll always be there to keep you safe," Booth explained.
"So you're telling me that your faith in me and your faith in your God is the same?" Bones asked curious.
Booth nodded then said, "Bones, let's put it this way, when you were a little girl did you trust that the sun would come up every day?"
Bones nodded and said, "Yes, and when I grew older I could explain it scientifically."
"Yes, but when you were a child, did you just have faith it would appear?" Booth asked.
Bones nodded once again.
"That's a metaphor for faith, you just know there is a God and he'll protect me and those I love," Booth said.
"But what about all the bad things that happen, why wouldn't your God protect the innocents?" Bones asked, struggling with Booth's faith once again.
"Just as there's good in the world, there's evil as well," Booth paused and looked closely at her face. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, her eyes sparkled with curiosity. He gently raised a hand to brush her hair back.
"Faith isn't dependant on outcome. Those with faith understand its part of God's master plan. That by living through triumphs as well as pain we become better for it," Booth said.
"I'm sorry Booth I know you have your faith, but I can't subscribe to what if's and unsubstantiated half truths," Bones said, exasperated with his nonsensical stance on the subject.
"Bones, that's fine, but regardless of how many times you may question me on this subject you won't shake my faith," Booth said firmly.
She smiled and said softly, "I know, I think that's why I like discussing it with you, maybe one day you'll convince me," she laughed and added, "but I wouldn't count on it."
Booth laughed as he guided her toward a perfect blue spruce and said, "So, Bones, what do you think?"
Bones walked slowly around the seven foot tree and checked it for imperfections and nodded, "I do believe you have found the perfect specimen."
Booth laughed and he prepared to cut it down and said, "Did you doubt me, Bones?"
She laughed and said, "Never."
Just as they made their way back to cabin a light snow began to fall, the silence and the falling snow a perfect compliment. Neither felt compelled to fill the silence, which for Booth was remarkable. Quietly they walked, each had a hand on a lower bough and was dragging their Christmas tree behind them. Anyone watching would have smiled at the ideal scene, as though realizing how they must look, Booth asked, "I feel like I've stepped out of a Currier and Ives painting, don't you?"
"A very good analogy, I agree," Bones said with a laugh. Just then they climbed the wide steps of the porch together and Booth stood the tree up shaking the snow from its limbs. Standing there with new fallen snow on Booth and the tree, Bones couldn't resist, "Well, I'd say you look like a post card. But nothing will surpass the night you and Parker brought the tree to the prison."
"Hey, that was Parker's idea?" Booth laughed, slightly embarrassed at having done something so sentimental.
Bones stepped up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, Booth surprised, asked, "What was that for?"
"Do I have to have a reason, Booth?" Bones teased.
"Ah, yeah," Booth asked his eyes locked with her own.
Stepping closer, she managed to hug him though the thickness of their combined outerwear, she murmured, "Because of who you are and what you do for me. Like this tree."
Booth stepped away, feeling as though something had changed, and he needed time to process it. Deciding the conversation had gone as far as it could for the moment he said, "Bones, let's get this tree inside, I need to get some firewood for the cabin."
"Bones, is it straight?" Booth asked for what seemed the umpteenth time.
"Yes, I believe it is, you can now tighten the base," Bones said satisfied.
Stepping back she admired the beautiful blue-tinged tree, it was a shame they'd chopped it down, but she felt confident they'd honor it more in death than it would have been in life. They'd placed the tree on the far side of room well away from the hearth, both realizing having a dead tree and a fire were dangerous combinations this far from civilization. As Booth finished, she moved to the treasure box which Booth had placed earlier on the worn and battered coffee table. Her eyes took in the image of a young man next to what she thought could be a fighter jet, then to a very pregnant young women, a wedding photograph and even several children. The decoupage was worn and chipped in places, but the love and memories still intact.
Booth had come to stand just behind her and looked down at what she was admiring. He noticed her fingers tracing the cherub face of a beautiful little girl, and he thought back to her desire to have a child. He decided to break the mood, maybe they'd manage this conversation later as they decorated the tree or sat back and admired it while drinking the bottle of wine Bones had found.
"Bones, how about I make a few runs for firewood and you can start lunch?" Booth asked, hoping she'd let him handle the heavy stuff.
Bones raised a questing brow, "I'm not sure it's your desire for my cooking that prompts this suggestion, or you don't want me to do any physical labor after my fall? But, I accept I'll make lunch, I find I'm famished from our trek in the woods." She said this as she began to feel the warmth seep back into her extremities, and she moved to remove her coat but Booth stopped her.
"Leave that on, I might as well get 4 or 5 loads in without having to ask you to constantly open and close the door; the fire's already died down so I'll just rebuild it as soon as I'm done," Booth said.
"Seems a waste, Booth, but I agree the cabin is nearly as cold inside as it is outside," Bones said as she moved to the cabinet to retrieve several pans to prepare lunch. As Booth left to retrieve the wood, Bones looked into her peach baskets and retrieved the sauce and pasta. Then her eyes fell of a few treasures Booth must have found, she saw canned mushrooms, and even a few dried peppers. Smiling, she added them to the sauce confident the additions would perk it up. When she'd opened the jar, she realized it was completely lacking as a sauce, obviously, it was canned tomato puree and not spaghetti sauce, but, fortunately, with these additions and help from the spices in the cabinet all would be well.
Bones put the pot of water on to boil as the sauce was simmering quietly. As she watched, she silently wished for a loaf of Italian bread. She moved towards the root cellar door, and Booth, having seen her movement, said with a warning, "Be careful, one knock on the head is enough for anyone."
Bones turned back annoyed, "Booth I think I can manage, stop being a mother duck."
Booth turned his head and coughed quickly to cover up a laugh, then said, "Mother hen, Bones, Mother hen."
Bones had already returned her attention to the root cellar and absently replied, "Oh, yes, that sounds right."
Bones went to explore the root cellar hoping for a few more treasures. Booth, in the interim, continued to bring load after load of wood into the cabin stacking it high against the wall just beside the hearth. On his last few trips, the snow had begun to fall in earnest. As Booth walked, he heard the crunch of his boots on the iced over snow, knowing by morning they'd be covered up with a new layer.
He smiled…tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and he was thinking back to the silver dolphin earrings he'd picked out, still wrapped and under his own tree. He wished he had something to give Bones tomorrow; she had so few good memories of Christmas which is what had driven her to travel for Christmas. He wasn't fooled, for years she tried to ignore the feelings of abandonment by traveling for the holidays. And she didn't take wonderful holiday trips to Paris or London, no, she took them to the hellish heat of Africa or South America.
His last trip from the wood pile he noticed the sun was low; he could tell by the angle they maybe had another hour of sunlight left. Stepping onto the porch, he spotted a shovel and snow shoes hung on large pegs on either side of the door, and he smiled grimly hoping he wouldn't need the snowshoes. Brushing off the snow, he stomped his boots and opened the door all the while balancing a fairly large pile of logs in one arm.
Stepping in, he called out, "Bones, you alright?"
Bones stepped into the kitchen having just exited from the root cellar, and once again her arms were laden with even more treasures. She answered impatiently, "Booth, if you don't stop hovering, you'll have no lunch."
She quickly moved to the counter as Booth removed his jacket and began to stack the hearth once again with wood. Booth smiled as he struck a match, and the dried wood caught quickly once more lighting the cabin with light from the hearth, though he realized they'd better have a few more candles out soon.
He stood and asked, "Bones, where'd you find those candles? It's going to be dark soon."
Bones glanced out the window and realized the truth of Booth's statement, and she replied surprised, "I didn't realize it was so late. The candles are in the cabinet next to the stove, I found a good supply of them but I only took three out yesterday."
Booth reached above her to retrieve the candles, and his body pushed her gently into the stove. For just a moment, his chest was pushed against her back, the heat that emanated from him felt delicious but, if possible, he smelled even better. It was over nearly before she could register more, disappointed, a soft sigh escaped.
Booth apologized, hearing her sigh, "Oh, sorry about that, Bones, I thought I had a bit more reach than that."
Bones let her hair fall over her heated cheeks as she murmured, "No problem, I was just wishing I knew how to light this stove, that's all."
Booth opened the oven door and saw it was completely dark with no hint of a lit pilot light; he remarked, "Bones, I'll have the pilot lit in a minute."
"Oh good, because I have no idea how I'd cook that ham tomorrow without an oven," Bones said with a laugh. "Besides I found this?"
Booth looked at what Bones had in her hand, it was a package of add water biscuits, "Excellent, I love biscuits can we have them with the pasta?"
Bones laughed, "I was thinking the same thing. Apparently I'm as hungry as you are."
Thirty minutes later, they were seated enjoying a pasta dinner complete with red wine and rolls. Booth picked up his glass and toasted, "Bones, fantastic dinner, thank you for making it." He added, "Aren't you amazed at how lucky we've been?"
Bones picked up her glass and smiled, "I'd say very lucky, this cabin hasn't been occupied I'd say in at least a year, and yet it's fully stocked."
Booth laughed then asked, "Well, I'm not going to question our luck, we might run out of it. So, how about we move this conversation to the fire?"
"Booth, what about the dishes?" Bones reminded.
"Ah shucks, I was hoping you'd forget about them," Booth teased.
Bones teased making a show of looking around, "Booth, do you see someone here who will do them, because I sure don't. Are you seeing things again?"
Putting his glass down he picked up his dish as well as hers and kidded, "Laugh it up, Bones, I was kinda hoping a dog would show up and clean them up for us."
Bones picked up the silverware and pan and followed Booth to the sink and said, "You know that wouldn't be very sanitary, Booth. The urban legend associated with dogs having cleaner mouths than humans was debunked fifteen years ago."
Booth looked surprised then paused while rinsing the dishes and asked, "Really, that's true?"
"Yes, Booth, it's true, human mouths are no dirtier than dogs," Bones answered, handing him a dish towel as she prepared to wash.
"Bones did you have a dog when you were a kid?"
"Yeah, a black lab named Bobby," Bones answered.
"Bobby, that's a strange name for a dog, why Bobby?" Booth asked.
"Well, Russ wanted to call him Blackie and even at the age of seven I thought that was completely unoriginal," Bones said, affronted.
"Okay, that explains why you didn't want to call him Blackie, but why Bobby?" Booth pressed.
Bones concentrated on an imaginary spot on a piece of silverware and said quietly, "I had a crush on a boy in 2nd grade whose name was Bobby."
Booth smiled, he could just imagine Bones with her first crush, almost but not quite and asked, "So, did Bobby ever ask you to share his lunch?"
"Oh, no, he was quite popular and even then I intimidated most of my schoolmates," Bones said, with a quick shake of her head.
Booth's tone was gentle as he said, "His loss, Bones, his loss."
Having put away the last of the dishes, Booth picked up their wine glasses and said, "Bones, how about we take this to the fire and decorate the tree?"
"Sounds good," Bones said as she sat on the sofa facing the small decoupage trunk. "What do you make of the pictures, Booth?" she asked curious.
"Well, I'd say the owner of that trunk was a vet. The pilot next to the plane, he's standing next to a Thud," Booths said, his fingers traced the edges of the plane lightly.
Bones asked, "Isn't that what your father flew?"
"Yeah," Booth said softly, his eyes unfocused staring into the flames.
"Are you alright, Booth?" Bones asked concerned.
Booth shook his head to clear it and turned to Bones and smiled, "Absolutely, just brought back some old memories."
"Bad memories?" she asked.
"No, not all bad," Booth said with a smile. Then, anxious to change the subject, he opened the trunk and lifted the journal he'd found earlier.
He opened it gently and turned to the first page and read aloud, "Our Christmas memories, Frank and Ellen Grant." The writing was faded with age but he squinted in the low light and continued, "New Beginnings, December 1967."
He leafed thru it slowly and realized, Frank and Ellen had used the journal to not only mark key milestones annually but it was a reflection of a life time together. He thought maybe, just maybe, he could use it to his advantage, so he said, "Bones, how about we take turns reading the journal and who ever isn't reading finds the ornament in the box and hangs it on the tree?"
"Won't that be an invasion of privacy Booth?" Bones asked, realizing just how private a journal could be.
"Bones, the journal is more of an annual milestone calendar; true, it probably contains a few more thoughts than what would be posted in the local paper, but considering we're wearing their clothes, burning their wood and eating their food, I think we're okay," Booth said with a smile.
"I suppose you're right, do you want to go first?" Bones asked.
"No, why don't you, but before you do, would you like more wine," Booth asked, as he lifted the bottle to top his own.
"Yes, I'd like that," Bones said.
Booth filled her glasses and then removing the remaining tissue that covered the ornaments, he smiled. This family was obviously very organized as each cubbie gently nestled an ornament and each was clearly marked with a year.
"Well, let's get started then," Booth said.
R&R is always appreciated!