A/N: She's going to Scotland because someday, after we can travel again, I'm going to Scotland to wander old castles and talk to ghosts.

There actually is a seminar based on the writings of Andrew Lang in Scotland. The most famous lecturer was J.R.R. Tolkien. The topic Brennan is speaking on is probably a little outside her subject area, but it works for this story.

My goal is to update every other day. Again, thank you for all the interest in my story. If you have time to leave a review, I appreciate it. Booth and Brennan will be back together soon.

~OOOOOO~

Brennan was preparing for a seminar, based on the writings of Andrew Lang, when her computer chimed. Ignoring the incoming email, she continued to work. She'd given up on getting anything from Booth weeks ago. Without the excuse of a new case, she wouldn't hear from him. So whoever had taken the time to email her could wait.

When that last bit of hope died she had no idea. Each day that passed, she gave up on something else. Soon, there would be nothing left to lose.

She'd considered inviting Booth to go with her to the location of the seminar, scheduled after the new year. Held at the University of St. Andrews, she'd entertained the fanciful idea of visiting castles and sightseeing with her partner in Scotland. Listening to bells ring out from old churches. They'd explore areas far away from the tourist centers and maybe explore each other as well.

They'd invited her months ago and she'd accepted. Hannah remained in DC and it gave Brennan an excuse to escape, at least for a few days. But then she left. Brennan hoped to grow closer to Booth again, facilitating a conversation where she could ask him to accompany her. Now, a few days in Scotland with Booth seemed impossible.

That dream had died too. A hard lesson on why fanciful desires were best left to others. Better to stick to the rational, otherwise she'd just end up disappointed.

Except this Brennan was trying to say yes to more things and take chances on things like love. And she wasn't ready to let that dream go. There was still time, the rational part reminded her. Still time to ask him. Still time for things to change.

Who knew the rational and the fanciful could get along so well? There was room for both inside her head which was a fascinating realization.

Someone, either she or Booth, had to take the first step.

Lang wrote several texts on the influences of myth and religion on the field of anthropology. Brennan's goal in her piece was to further expand on the topic. She'd hoped to have Booth read over her presentation, wanting his opinion. Her goal was to be factual and not insult anyone in the audience. Booth would give her an honest opinion. Tell her if she'd been too harsh. She recognized that her ideas on religion could often be abrasive.

Before, it wasn't anything she would have worried about. Booth had changed her in more ways than she'd ever realized.

No matter what she did or where she went, Booth was always there. If not physically, then in her thoughts.

They hadn't gone to lunch in weeks. Hadn't actually spoken for days. Could she send him an email asking for his opinion on something that was important to her?

Of course she could. No matter which side of her brain she listened to, the dominant rational side or the much quieter fanciful side, Brennan knew if it was important to her, it would be important to Booth.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she worded a short email explaining the purpose of her seminar. Then attached what she'd prepared. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she pressed send and watched as the email disappeared.

The brave one, the first one to reach out, was going to be her. Who saw that coming?

She stared at the screen for close to five minutes, as if she expected Booth to respond that quickly. Accepting she was being less than rational, she shifted to the incoming emails she'd ignored all morning.

Several from Cam about a previous case. Several more from her interns, asking questions or requesting she review a paper they were writing.

One from someone in the American History wing she didn't normally hear from. Curious, she opened it and skimmed it.

Before slowing down and reading it a lot slower.

Secret Santa? She hadn't signed up for Secret Santa. A foolish tradition that led to people who didn't know each other sharing meaningless gifts. Jars of candy and scented candles were often at the top of the list. She'd managed to avoid it for years. By scheduling digs and lectures or claiming her work with the FBI kept her too busy to participate in such a frivolous activity.

Now, this email was informing her that not only was she signed up to participate, she was already matched with another colleague. Pinching her lips together, Brennan considered her options as she continued to read.

She could email and tell the sender this whole thing was a mistake and ask to be removed from the activity.

Or she could add this to the list of new things she was trying to participate in. Overall, it wasn't the most painful thing she could agree to. A few gifts and a party at the end. It was hard to believe she'd be the only person there that felt awkward and out of place.

Finally getting past the rules of the activity and the suggestions of what to give, Brennan arrived at her Secret Santa match. And drew a sharp breath at the name on her screen.

Seeley Booth. How had Booth ended up on this list?

There was no way, in any fantasy or reality, that Booth would sign up for Secret Santa at the Jeffersonian. He barely came around anymore and even if he was here every single day, he wouldn't do it.

The list hung on the wall for almost a week. There were at least fifty names on it. She could figure out the odds of getting Booth's name, but it wasn't worth the effort. Because the odds were stronger that someone had made this happen.

But, she thought, tapping her fingernails against the desk, maybe this was exactly what she'd been looking for. Even more than an email, it would give her an excuse to send gifts to Booth. To find things that were meaningful, at least for the two of them. A way to close the gap.

Unless Booth had also been sent a name. And there was a good chance it wasn't hers. He might make his own connection with someone else.

It wasn't like she could ask him. That defeated the whole purpose of the activity. And once Temperance Brennan agreed to something, she tended to follow the rules ruthlessly. Which meant she couldn't ask anyone whether they were participating and who their match might be.

Rationally, she knew this whole thing had been arranged. Because she hadn't written her name on that list. So there was a better chance that Booth had been sent her name, rather than some random person at the Jeffersonian.

A knock sounded on her door and she looked up to see Angela watching her. Brennan wondered if she'd left her heels at home so Brennan couldn't hear her approach and run in the other direction.

Or hunt her down and ask what she'd done.

"Good morning, Angela," Brennan said. She'd spent years hiding what she'd thought, the knowledge she had. It was good practice for this moment. Angela could often see through her, but Brennan hoped she was out of practice.

Because she was going to pretend the email thing hadn't happened. Let Angela wonder if she was going to go through with it.

"Morning," Angela said. She looked at Brennan carefully, but her friend's face was blank.

"Did you need something?" Brennan asked.

Angela knew the emails had been sent. But she couldn't tell if Brennan had read hers or not. She'd expected some sort of reaction. Anger at being added to the list or confusion as to how she'd ended up with Booth.

What Angela hadn't expected was the lack of a reaction at all. Had Brennan not read the email? Or was she going to pretend that it hadn't happened and try to back out of the whole thing?

She regretted not planning for this scenario. Now, she was stuck, unable to ask without giving herself away.

"No, only stopping in to see how you were. You seemed sad when we talked before." There, that was a good excuse.

Brennan had to bite her cheek not to smirk at her friend. Angela shifted her weight from one foot to the other and appeared to be breathing slightly faster than normal. All clear indications of anxiety about something.

Brennan knew what that was. Just as she was sure about the person who'd put both Booth's and her name on the list. She folded her hands on her desk and waited. "I'm fine, Angela. Just working on my seminar in Scotland."

"Oh, that's good. I'll leave you to it." Turning, Angela left as silently as she'd come in.

When she was out of earshot, Brennan laughed. Whatever happened between her and Booth would be between the two of them. As it always had been. But she'd take advantage of this little interference from Angela.

Maybe, this Christmas wouldn't be so bad after all.