Disclaimer: I own neither Angel or anything associated with him, and "Bones" is equally out of my reach control-wise
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Angel of the Bones
"You got that sad little girl look on your face after you've been with your dad," Booth said, looking pointedly at his partner as they drove to their latest crime scene.
"No I don't…" Bones protested, whining in protest before she sighed in response to his knowing look. "He wishes we could spend Christmas together with Russ."
"Well, do it," Booth said; he'd so rarely managed to spend Christmas with his family as Angel- Christmas hadn't been as big a deal when he was Liam and he didn't really have much of a family to spend it with as Booth- that the idea of Bones missing that chance to go on a dig just seemed stupid to him.
"They're both in jail. It's impossible," Bones said indignantly, before looking curiously at him. "What are your plans?"
"I'm thinking about driving the truck right off the bridge," Booth said grimly, before he noted Bones's worried glance at him. "Oh, I'm being melodramatic and self pitying."
"You love Christmas," Bones said.
"I love it, you know, when I have Parker," Booth clarified (He'd been relatively dismissive of Christmas when he was Angelus and his first century or so as Angel, but his thoughts on the season had been fairly neutral when he started living in Sunnydale and after relocating to Los Angeles, so Parker was the main reason he liked it nowadays). "But this year he's going skiing in Vermont with Rebecca and Captain Fantastic."
"Who's Captain Fantastic?" Bones asked.
"Ah, it's her boyfriend," Booth said, rubbing his forehead to try and relieve some of the stress. "Commands a Coastguard cutter…"
"His last name isn't literally 'fantastic', is it?" Bones asked uncertainly.
"Might as well be," Booth said, before trying to change the subject; talking about Parker's potential stepfather was not going to help his mood. "You know, they have a trailer at the jail, mostly for conjugal visits."
"Captain Fantastic is in jail?" Bones asked.
"No, your dad," Booth corrected; sometimes, he really wondered how Bones couldn't make social leaps as easily as she made bone-related jumps. "You can give him what he wants for Christmas; pull a few strings."
"I'm not a string puller," Bones protested.
"I've seen you pull some strings," Booth noted.
"My father is a murderer and a thief," Bones said firmly; evidently she didn't want to get into that kind of debate.
"Well, murderers and thieves, they get Christmas too," Booth said (He didn't count vampires and most demons in that statement; they didn't particularly care about the things Christmas was meant to represent anyway). "In fact, that's kinda the point."
"Well, I have other plans," Bones said.
"Well, whatever they are, skeletons and Christmas do not mix," Booth said.
"That's exactly what my father said," Bones noted, actually looking at him in surprise, as though that statement wasn't obvious. "Where are we going?"
"Early Christmas present for you, Bones," Booth responded. "Dead guy in a sewer."
"Can't sleep on your own couch?" Bones asked him as she walked into her office to find him lying on the couch, trying to get some rest.
"Just waiting for the squints to find out something," he replied, sitting up as he forced his sleep-addled mind to focus. "How did it go with Russ?"
"He says he doesn't want the girls to come," Bones said as she sat down on a chair opposite. It didn't take long for Booth to guess Russ's motives; he didn't want his step-daughters knowing that he was in prison.
"Your dad," he said, trying to focus on presenting the situation in a more positive manner, "he wants the whole Christmas package. You know - the tree, the kids, the presents - the whole shebang."
"Well, the whole shebang isn't possible," Bones said firmly.
"Christmas," Booth said, looking promptingly at her, "is about making the impossible possible."
He'd never really thought about that before that dark Christmas when the First had attacked, but seeing it snow that heavily in California had a way of reminding you that miracles could happen.
"You mean like you spending Christmas with Parker?" Bones asked.
"OK, you know what? That hurt," Booth said, briefly glaring at his partner before he turned over to try and get some more rest; things were rough enough right now without her rubbing that in his face. "Wake me up when the, uh, squint squad finds out something."
It wasn't the most mature solution, but he wasn't about to get into that kind of argument; it was the kind of debate that make it all too likely that he'd end up letting something slip about his real past…
"Kris rented this place from me for six years," Ralph Harley, the landlord of their current victim, reported to Booth and Bones as the FBI forensics team gathered evidence from the assorted toys and other items in the apartment; they were attempting to leave the toys and other memorabilia intact in case something interesting emerged later.
"Do you know where he lived before that?" Bones asked.
"Well, actually, Bones, that wasn't my first question," Booth began.
"He wrote his previous address on the lease," Ralph said, sounding slightly sheepish as he passed the file containing the lease to Booth's partner.
"North Pole?" she said, staring at the file incredulously.
"Aw, come on with that…" Booth groaned; this guy was either one of the rare supernatural creatures he didn't believe in, or someone had serious mental issues…
"See?" Bones said, indicating the file as she looked at him. "It turned out to be a good question!"
"You actually accepted that address?" Booth asked, wanting to focus on the matter at hand.
"Are you kidding?" Ralph pointed out. "How many guys want to live above a toy store? It's noisy. And Kris gave me first and last month's rent, upfront, in cash."
"Kris Kringle, from the North Pole, lives above a toystore," Bones noted. "This is further evidence that our victim is indeed the mythic figure known as Santa Claus."
"Mythic," Booth repeated firmly; he couldn't believe Bones was even joking about this. "Coming from the Latin 'Myth', meaning 'doesn't actually exist'."
As Bones countered with some kind of more scientifically accurate description about the origin of 'myth' as a term, the two of them were about to start arguing, but the sight of Ralph looking at them both in amusement cut that conversation off before it could go too far; getting into that kind of debate wouldn't help them solve the case.
"What can you tell us about Mr. Kringle's personal finances?" Booth asked.
"Like I said, he always paid cash," Ralph said.
"Where did he work?" Bones asked.
"Uh, employment agency called 'Temp Time'," Ralph said after a moment's thought. "On 7th, by the Convention Center."
"Ha!" Booth said firmly. "Couldn't have been Santa!"
"Why?" his partner asked.
"Because Santa wouldn't have worked at a temp agency!"
"Well, why not?" Bones asked. "His work is seasonal-"
"Because he would-" Booth began, but quickly halted himself as he registered Ralph still watching them; arguments would have to wait until later if they were ever going to make progress. "Kringle pay his rent on time?"
"Always, at least until the last couple of months," Ralph said.
"Really?" Booth said, moving over to indicate the large amount of cash they'd found during their search. "Because, ya know what, obviously he wasn't short on funds with all the money we found in the secret compartment of his drawer."
"Son of a bitch," Ralph said, staring at the money. "Twelve hundred bucks of that is mine!"
"All of this is rumpled small bills, except for these eight fifty dollar bills," Bones said, holding up the bag with the relevant bills.
"Brand new with sequential serial numbers," Booth noted,
"I don't know about any of this," Ralph protested.
"Alright, look," Booth said, reaching over to take a hold of Ralph's shoulder; the man looked like he was about to start getting jumpy, and he wanted to head that off as quickly as possible. "Did you, uh, guys have some kind of a disagreement? Is that why he was holding out on you?"
"No," Ralph said, too quickly for it to be the honest answer. "No. No. Maybe… Kris gave me some ideas on a toy, which I patented and…"
"It sold?" Bones asked.
"Somebody took a picture of TomKat's kid with it so, it sorta took off," Ralph confirmed.
"Wow," Booth said, whistling at the thought; celebrity culture might bemuse him at times, but he could appreciate how it worked even if he didn't always get why even after spending so much time with Lorne. "Kringle could have sued you for a chunk of that cash."
"He never actually told me he wanted a cut," Ralph pointed out. "Maybe, he just stopped paying his rent."
It gave them some interesting clues, but Booth was starting to think that this apartment was a bust; they were still no further along in determining why someone would have wanted their victim dead…
"Thinking of Parker?" Bones asked as they drove away from Kringle's apartment, considering what they'd put together so far.
"No," Booth said, sitting in silence as they continued driving along before he decided to break the silence. "Thinking about your dad?"
"No," Bones responded. "Russ."
"Well, you can't blame him for not wanting those girls to know the truth…" Booth noted.
"He's living a lie," Bones said indignantly. "You'd never do that."
Booth suddenly felt hideously ashamed of himself; Bones could have no idea that he was lying to her pretty much every time she asked him about his past, but it wasn't like she'd ever believe the truth…
"Well, not never," he said, wanting to avoid giving Bones a false impression of himself even if he still couldn't be completely honest. "I mean, I-I lie to Parker… especially this time of year."
"What about?" Bones asked.
"Tell him that Santa's coming," Booth clarified.
"Really?"
"It's Santa Claus!" Booth protested.
"The Santa myth is based on blackmail," Bones said (At least she was actually starting to act like she didn't believe the victim was Santa any more). "Be good or you won't get any presents."
"No," Booth said, suddenly feeling the need to defend this particular lie (As well as any excuse not to think about the demon Santa Claws; that particular mess was one part of his old reality that he was glad to leave behind in favour of the myth). "It's not a lie lie, Bones; it's more like everybody agreeing that up to a certain age, kids deserve to live a different kind of truth."
"OK," Bones said dismissively, "by that reasoning, what we should do is figure out a lie Russ could tell the girls so they wouldn't know he's in jail."
"That is a brilliant Christmas idea!" Booth said, smiling at his partner in what he hoped was an encouraging manner.
"It was intended to be a scathing and incisive comment," Bones countered, clearly confused at his response.
"Give Russ civvies," Booth said, ignoring the anthropologist's retort. "The girls think he's flown in specially to visit his father in jail at Christmas."
"Where would you say he's been?" Bones asked.
"Building a bridge in… Addis Ababa," Booth said; he thought he recalled Wes mentioning the name once…
"Addis Ababa is the land-locked capitol of Ethiopia," Bones pointed out.
"Fine, Bones," Booth said, deciding to give up on offering suggestions; if she wouldn't accept his help, he couldn't exactly force her to do so. "You know what? Just make up your own lie."
"I don't believe in lying to children," Bones protested.
"You just want to go to Peru without feeling guilty, alright?"
"You need to accept that you won't have Parker this Christmas."
"I am not enjoying this holiday season at all," Booth groaned in frustration after a moment's silence, each of them lost for better words.
"Yeah, well, neither am I," Bones said, her voice low as she stared out of the window.
"Look, you ever see this man before?" Booth asked, holding up a photograph of their latest victim to a waiter from the Chinese restaurant that led to the alley they were currently searching (He just wanted to get out of this place and find something else; he'd been in more than enough alleys in his darker phase after that doughnut shop death).
"Santa Claus?" the waiter said sceptically.
"No… this isn't actually Santa Claus," Booth said, tapping the picture impatiently. "The guy that's wearing the Santa outfit in this picture; have you ever seen him?"
"Can I see your ID again, please?" the waiter asked, clearly doubtful about this whole story
"Booth," Hodgins said, standing up from the dumpster just as Booth was reaching for his ID.
"What?" Booth asked.
"Your kid like roaches?" the entomologist asked, holding up his right hand to indicate the roach on his finger. "Gromphadorhina, man. Hissing roach. Hey, grab me this container? This is a great pet, man; perfect Christmas gift…"
"What- no," Booth said, protesting even as he provided Hodgins with the requested container; not only did he fail to understand the appeal of cockroaches as pets, but he really didn't want an additional reminder of the time he'd lived in alleys. "Did you find the Bird's Nest maggots yet?"
"No, not yet; still looking," Hodgins replied, before he turned back to the dumpster, sounding disturbing enthusiastic about the whole process.
"OK, I'm calling the cops-" the waiter said as he began to turn back.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, pal; hey, I am the cops, alright?" Booth said, looking firmly at the man; maybe he'd get rid of the unwanted questions if he asserted himself a bit more. "Any, uh, fights out back here in the alley in the past four days?"
"No," the waiter said. "I-I don't come out here since I quit smoking. It stinks."
"It's the cycle of life, my friend," Hodgins called out from the dumpster. "Quite beautiful if you get into it."
"Is it?" Booth asked, laughing sceptically before turning back to the waiter. "OK, you go back inside but tell the rest of your staff I'll be in in a few minutes to ask them some questions… and you'd better hope I don't report this to the health department," he added, holding up the jar containing the roach as the waiter muttered something in Chinese as he walked away.
"Paydirt!" Hodgins yelled, emerging from the dumpster with a food container as he pulled off his gas mask. "Fannia, Musca and Phoridae and these are the exact maggots I found on Kringle's suit. This means this is where he was killed."
"So if he was killed here," Booth said, taking a new assessment of the alley around them before moving to a grate on the other side, shoving a couple of boxes out of the way to examine it more closely, "then he was probably… dragged over here, to this grate… and dumped down this sewer."
"An ignominious end for Father Christmas, huh…" Hodgins began, before being distracted by something else in the dumpster. "Whoa."
"Whoa what?" Booth asked, just as Hodgins emerged holding three wallets.
"They were near the bottom," the scientist explained, quickly examining his new find. "No cash; just IDs and credit."
"Probably dumped there by pickpockets," Booth noted.
"Hey, you found cash in Kringle's apartment, right?" Hodgins asked.
"Right," Booth said, quickly following Hodgins' train of thought.
"Maybe he picked one pocket too many?" Hodgins suggested, as he put the three wallets in the evidence bag Booth held out for him.
"Well," the agent said, nodding in acknowledgement of Hodgins' point, "we're gonna find out the owners and, uh, see if they know any Santa pick pockets."
With the evidence found, he quickly decided to back out of the area before Hodgins could start to ask for help; he liked the guy well enough, but he'd spent far too long 'dumpster-diving' when he was in his more self-destructive phase to want to have to deal with that smell again any more than was absolutely necessary…
As far as cases went, this had definitely been one of the stranger murders he'd investigated as Booth (That mess with Smile Time remained his strangest; it might have been fundamentally humiliating for him more than anything else, but in hindsight it had been amusing to look like a vampire puppet). Dealing with a case where the victim appeared to be Santa would have been strange on its own, but when it concluded with a bunch of Santas accusing one of their own of murder like he'd disgraced some kind of uniform…
The only good think about that bizarre sight was that it helped him not think about the earlier kiss he'd shared with Bones. Whether it was for a bet with Caroline or not, the whole thing just made him uncomfortable; even if the kiss had been good in itself, he was keeping so many things secret from her about his real past that just thinking of taking anything further felt… wrong…
Still, right now he had far more pleasant thoughts to occupy his time; Parker had stayed behind to be with him for Christmas, and now the two of them were about to do what they could to give Bones and her family the best kind of Christmas they could manage.
"Oh my God," Bones' voice said as she picked up the phone, evidently wincing at something distasteful.
"What's wrong?" Booth asked.
"What is that?" Bones said, sounding like she was talking to someone else; he heard someone respond, but it was too far from the phone for him to be sure what they'd said before she turned back to the phone. "Booth?"
"Bones, hey!" he said, glad that they had so easily moved back into their usual routine after that kiss Caroline had requested as he reached down to give his son a one-armed hug. "Good news; turns out I got Parker for Christmas after all."
"Christmas magic, right?" Bones replied.
"Hey, so we figured we call and uh, wish you a little, uh, Yuletide cheer," Booth said, lowering the phone down to Parker so that his son could wish his partner a merry Christmas as well before lifting the phone back to his ear.
"My dad says 'Merry Christmas'," Bones said.
"Hey, listen, Bones," Booth said, checking the car engine to ensure that everything was wired up; setting this up wasn't easy, but he felt it was the least he could do for Bones's first family Christmas in sixteen years. "I got a little something for ya."
"Oh, I got you something too," Bones said. "We can exchange gifts in a couple of days."
"Go to the window and open up the blinds, now," Booth said. Bones briefly sounded confused at the question, but nevertheless obeyed his instructions as the trailer window opened, revealing him and Parker standing by the illuminated Christmas tree. As she turned back to the rest of the people in the trailer, Booth couldn't hear what she was saying to them but the gathering of faces around the window made it clear that they appreciated the effort, Parker waving to the family gathered together in the trailer.
"I love my gift, Booth," Bones said, clearly satisfied with this addition to her family Christmas celebrations.
"Merry Christmas, Bones," Booth said.
It was a minor thing in the grand scheme of things, but as he'd once noted, in a meaningless world, a single act of kindness could be the greatest thing imaginable…
