Disclaimer: If I did own them, do you think I would be posting these stories here?

A/N: Okay, please, please, please, please, PLEASE forgive the late posting. School is a major pain and it's hard to find time. But I thank all my loyal and fabulous reviews and readers! So keep on responding. I struggled with this chapter, so forgive the disgustingness.

Booth sat in his office, eyes shut. He didn't want to look at the piece of paper in his hand that read, "Zack Addy." He wanted it to read "Temperance Brennan." It would have been perfect… but it wasn't. It never was.

"Upset about something?"
Booth whipped around, hand going instinctively to the gun at his waist, which he had recovered recently from his office. Standing in the doorway was none other than House, eyes glittering in an amused fashion. "Oh, it's you," Booth said gruffly. The two men had not spoken much. The diagnostician had been distant, cold.

"Yeah, it's me." House plopped himself down in a chair opposite Booth. "So, disliking this whole… trapped situation?" He fiddled with the piece of paper Hodgins had given him, not wanting to think about it himself.

"It's happened before. At least this time none of us has to worry about some fungus." House laughed at this.
"So, what's it like being in love with your coworker?" Booth's eyes narrowed, and he gazed at House in shock.

"What?" he sputtered.

"Oh, don't play dumb. You've fallen for… Brennan." House's smirk was crossing his face at an amazingly quick pace. "It's not good for you, Booth. Falling for someone you work with."

"Oh really? What about you and Allison?" Booth enjoyed the stunned look on House's face. "Don't think that all of us haven't noticed."

House sneered. "Oh please. The girl had a crush on me. I just…"

"Mess with her heart?" snapped Booth. "Not really fair for her, is it?" But Booth cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean she had a crush on you?"
House released an exasperated gasp. He gazed at Booth for a moment. "Can you be Wilson for me?"
Booth looked at him quizzically. "Er… I suppose I could."

House rolled his eyes, but spoke. "Cameron… got a crush on me and we went on one date. Which… didn't go over so well. I wasn't nice." Booth blinked. House took a moment to pause. He hadn't told anyone about his dream after the shooting. The very long one. And the robot… He shook his head, convincing himself that maybe he could confide in the FBI agent. "I… after I was shot, I had a dream. Really long, really creepy. But… one part of it stands out. I… I began to undress her… with a robot."
Several very graphic images flooded into Booth's mind. "Ew."

"No, you idiot! Nothing… like that. Just… Why isn't Wilson here? He could understand this." He rubbed his temples. "It's… difficult. She's younger, passionate. And I'm…"

"A rude bastard who used to be a cripple?"
"Yeah. Something along those lines."

Booth rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Bones… She's never been a normal squint." He quickly gave the explanation to the term.

"Kind of how Cameron, Foreman, and Chase are my ducklings," House added with a smug smirk.

Booth grinned. "Yeah, I guess so." They were doing some male bonding. Who would have guessed it? "She's so smart… the way she carries herself. She has charisma, but is totally unaware of her beauty or when guys flirt with her." Booth shook his head. "But that's why I like her so much." His cheeks began to burn at the patronizing look House displayed.

House shrugged at last. "I guess that's how it is with Cameron… Except she's aware of her…looks. That's why she's such a feminist. She once asked me why I hired her. I told her it was because she is extremely pretty. God, she was so pissed." Seeley laughed, a wide smile decorating his face.

"Damn, I wonder what Bones would say if I told her that's why I was so glad that we became partners…" House snorted with laughter.

"Really, those two have a lot in common. Both strong headed doctors, feminists, atheists."

And the two men chatted on and on, laughing as though they had been friends for ages.

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Cameron was twirling a pencil between her fingers. She mimicked as House used to do with his cane.

'What can I make her?' she thought, shaking her head in frustration. 'I mean… what can I make? There's nothing…'

"Need some help, sweetie?" Cameron jumped in her seat, whipping around to see Angela hovering over her shoulder. Somehow, the artist had entered the kitchen silently, and appeared behind Cameron.

"You know, Bren never has enough jewelry," Angela said, stressing the word jewelry.

Allison raised her eyebrows. "How would you know…?"
"I arranged it, sweetie. You'll find something." And with that, the young woman left. Cameron shook her head, then paused, gazing at a large box Angela had left behind. Glancing around, Cameron fell to her knees, opening the box. Her face broke into a full grin, and she knew what would be done.

"Thanks, Angela," she murmured.

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Bones was flipping anxiously though a book which she had snatched off the shelf, trying to avert her mind from the slip of paper she had been given.

'Seely Booth.'

What was she going to do?

Secret Santa? As in Santa Claus? Bones could recall Christmas with her mother, father, and Russ perfectly. The joy, the giggling, the tearing of brightly colored wrapping paper. But after her parents left… After everything broke apart, she had abandoned her faith, searching for refuge in science and proof. But when she would occasionally look over the photos of her youth, covered in tinsel, hugging her brother, or snuggling up against her mother, she recalled Church afterwards as well. The warm sensation of singing in the choir that caused pure joy to resonate within her.

She shut the book with a snap, settling it down beside her. She gazed around her office, noting how cold it seemed. She also took in the fact that she, Angela, and Allison were all still wearing their gowns. She shivered, and snatched her coat that was draped on the back of her chair.

"Cold, sweetie?" Angela's voice filled the room, and Temperance glanced upwards to gaze at her best friend.

"Yeah, a bit."

Angela smiled as she approached her friend. "Bren, sweetie, having trouble thinking of a gift?"
Bones paused, considering how to answer. But she folded. "Yeah." She shrugged her shoulders in exasperation. "I just…"

Angela silenced her, shoving a small box of materials into her hand. "Think about what this person is like," she said simply, walking off with a grin on her lips.

Temperance blinked thoughtfully, unsure of how to react to this very odd statement. But the wheels in her brain began to turn as she looked down into the box.

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