Epilogue, of sorts

Christmas Day, noon. Brennan was due at Amy's in the afternoon and now had time to change clothes – she had stopped in the lab to check the results of one of the cultures, since she had some time – before picking up her presents for the girls and leaving again.

As she stooped to remove her boots, her phone rang. Her cheeks flushed, but she calmed as she glanced at the caller ID and saw that it was Amy. Not – someone else.

"Amy?"

"Hi, Tempe. Sorry, did I catch you at a bad time?"

"No, it's fine. Do you need something?"

"No, I just had a question. Russ had mentioned that you're good friends with the FBI agent who helped us out? And then did the Christmas tree for your dad?"

"Booth? Um – well, yes, we're friends." It wasn't the way she would describe it, exactly, but she was at a loss for a better way to explain their relationship. Work Partners Who Only Tongue Kiss When Blackmailed By A Prosecutor was just a touch wordy for the purposes of this conversation.

"Russ called this morning to talk to the girls, and he mentioned that Agent Booth's son was leaving today with his mother to go skiing, and he thought Agent Booth would be spending the day alone."

There was an expectant pause, which Brennan decided to fill with a response. "That's right."

"I know it's last minute, but do you know if he has other plans? I'd love him to come have dinner with us. The girls would love it, and he's just been so kind that it would be nice to do something for him."

Bren's cheeks flushed. Maybe she'd see him sooner that she thought. "I don't know if he has plans or not. I know he's in town, though."

"I know it's a lot to ask, but could you call him and ask if he'd like to come? I would, but I don't know him very well, and Russ said you two have worked together for a long time. Just tell him he'd be very welcome and the girls would love to see him, if he's available."

Something warm blossomed in her mind, and Bren smiled. "I'll ask."

"Great. Thank you so much, Tempe. Just let me know if he can come?"

"I'll call."

She was then faced with the delicious prospect of calling him, a day after they had decided that kissing each other was an enjoyable activity and one they might both like to try again.

Emotion was messy, but its very unpredictability made for entertainment. Kind of like contact sports.

"Booth."

"It's me."

"What's up?"

"Amy wanted to know if you have any plans for today."

There was a slight pause. "Well, not really."

"She'd like to invite you to dinner at her house."

"You're going too?"

"Yes."

"She doesn't know me that well."

"She knows what you've done for our family." Bren smiled to herself. He had done everything. "So she wants to do something for you."

"She doesn't know everything."

"Yes, she – " then she understood, and she flushed. "No, she doesn't know how Caroline blackmailed me."

"Would you rather she not find out about it for now?"

"I think that would be best."

"That's fine. When are you heading over?"

"Fairly soon."

"If I stop at your place, can I ride with you? I don't actually know where she lives."

The plan was acceptable, so she called Amy and said yes, Agent Booth will be happy to come to dinner. Amy headed to the cabinet for another plate and said nothing about the fact that Tempe and the FBI agent seemed very, very close.

After dinner that evening, they began the ride back to her place in comfortable silence. She reflected on the day with satisfaction: they had been unfailingly polite and friendly to each other, considering how unstable she had been emotionally to begin with. But Booth seemed to sense her unease and had proven to be everything that was gentlemanly and charming – a side of him she had started to enjoy a little more – and as a result, dinner had ended up being very pleasant.

"That was nice."

His remark brought her suddenly out of her mental replay of the past few hours. "It was."

"Amy's great. And she can really cook."

She nodded in agreement. Dinner really had been delicious.

Eventually they got back to her place, and she hesitated for a moment before pulling the keys from the ignition and asking if he wanted to come upstairs for a moment. She had his Christmas present, after all, and now was as promising a time as any to give it to him. He agreed, following her to her door without further comment.

After fishing through her closet for a moment, she returned to the living room and presented him a fairly large box. He was surprised.

"What is this, a toaster?"

"No. I didn't think you needed one."

"You didn't have to go all out, you know. I just used jumper cables to light up a Christmas tree. You didn't have to give me an aircraft carrier."

She rolled her eyes. "Would you just open it?"

With a suspicious look, he peeled off the paper and fumbled with the tape on the plain brown box for a moment, until she helpfully produced a pair of scissors. Once the tape was cut, he carefully folded back the box flaps and tissue paper. His eyes went wide, and he looked up at her in utter disbelief as a smile lit up his face.

"Is this real?"

"Yes. 1962."

"Oh, my God – I can't believe – how did you get this?"

"I called in a favor." It was a long, complicated story. She would elaborate later, if necessary. He looked content with that right now, judging by his expression as he pulled out the gold football helmet with the Steelmark on the side.

"How did you know?"

"You have a Steelers coffee cup on your desk."

"This is – this is incredible. I've never seen an original before," he murmured, tracing the side of the emblem with almost reverent care. "I can't believe you managed to get this."

"So you like it?"

"Like it?" He stared at her, incredulous. "Bones, this is an incredible piece of sports history, and I don't want to even try to figure out who you had to call to get this. I love it. You – you're amazing. I could kiss you, right now."

"You could."

"That would be acceptable to Dr. Brennan?"

"Yes." Her eyes sparkled.

He grinned, carefully placing the helmet back in its box for safekeeping. "Since you gave me warning, I figure I should probably inform you ahead of time that I really do plan on kissing you?"

She tried to glare at him, but it didn't work. Booth immediately took the opportunity to pull her close and in seconds her eyes fell shut and his mouth was on hers. He was a damn good kisser. She remembered that. He was gentle but firm, and had her back against the pillows, and his hands on her arms were warm.

And he tasted like he'd been chewing gum.

FINE

Author's Note: I vaguely think that the year for the gold helmet is correct; I looked it up on the Steelers' website. Anyway, the idea is really just that she got him something really, really cool, and unique.

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