Happy Monday! I'm surprising you with this chapter two days early because I managed to finish the final chapter over the weekend, and I didn't think anyone would object. ;)

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Chapter 14

After leaving the prison, Brennan and her less-than-covert surveillance agent drove straight to the Hoover. When she exited her car in the parking structure, she nodded in acknowledgment of the agent she vaguely recognized. Booth was in a meeting with Cullen, so she sought out Caroline Julian, hoping that she might be willing to help her brother.

Brennan asked if Caroline would be willing to speak on Russ's behalf and encourage the judge to release him. Caroline didn't feel it would be right, but she compromised by arranging for Brennan to speak at his parole hearing. Brennan was disappointed but thanked her nonetheless, and by the time she got back to Booth's office, he had finished his meeting. He greeted her affectionately and waited while she took a call from Zack. Booth had been hoping that they could go home, but the expression on his wife's face told him otherwise. He groaned and gestured that she should lead the way.

They found Zack in the Bone Room, studying several images on the large flatscreen. The FBI had delivered as many of the shrapnel teeth as possible, and Zack had been able to reverse engineer a dental set. They matched some of the gnaw marks on several bones from the completed skeleton. Brennan cringed at the realization that Gormogon's tooth had been embedded in her arm. Zack also noted the presence of chipping on nearly every tooth that had been recovered, and he insisted that the damage hadn't been caused by the bomb. Instead, the chips had been caused by pliers, which implied that Gormogon had removed his own teeth and used them in the bomb.

When Booth and Brennan finally got home that evening, they helped one another shower and clean their wounds before bed. She gave him a summary of her conversations with both Russ and Caroline, but by the time they were lying in bed, her mind had drifted back to Zack's most recent findings.

"I hate that a cannibal's tooth was in my arm," she admitted, looking in disgust at the bandage on her left bicep.

"I don't blame you," Booth agreed. He gently touched his fingertips to her chin, urging her to look at him rather than her arm. "Let's stop talking about the case for tonight, okay? Think about something else? Maybe we can focus on… what you want for Christmas?"

Brennan smiled at the reminder that the holiday was quickly approaching. They'd done some shopping for Parker and the squints, but they hadn't discussed their plans in much detail. In that moment, she knew precisely what she wanted for herself and her family.

"Can we take a little vacation? We'll have Parker for a week. We could just take some time off... relax?" He could hear the hope in her voice, and he smiled in response.

"That's a great idea, Bones, but I was asking what you want for Christmas."

"All I really want is to be with my family. To be with you and Parker. Plus, I think we could both use some time off from...everything."

"What about Max and Russ?" he reminded her hesitantly. She shrugged halfheartedly.

"They'll probably both still be in jail, so… I can go visit them for a little while before we leave."

"Will that be enough?"

"It'll be more than we've done for the past sixteen years," Brennan scoffed. Booth nodded, deciding to let it go for the time being. He could see that she still in a bit of pain from her injuries, and she looked as exhausted as he was.

"Alright, baby. Let's get some sleep, okay?" His arms tightened around her as she burrowed into his neck and inhaled his scent deeply. He breath tickled slightly, and he smiled into the darkness. "I love you."

"I love you too, Booth."

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In spite of their late night, Booth and Brennan headed to the lab early the next morning. They were both eager to make more progress on the case. To no one's surprise, Zack was already on the platform, and he'd found something odd on one of the ribs of the completed skeleton. The number 1026 was carved into the bone. Angela postulated that Gormogon had used it as a signature, much as an artist would sign a work of art. Cam suggested that they check the vault for security deposit box 1026. Unfortunately, all of the boxes were rigged with minor explosives. They generally weren't powerful enough to really injure anyone, but it would effectively destroy whatever was in the box.

Zack proposed a method to neutralize the explosive for long enough to retrieve the contents of the deposit box. Booth, Brennan and Cam gathered around him in the vault as he explained his thought process.

"What I'm doing is smothering the phosphorus with argon. Thus, giving Booth time to reach in with the tongs and remove whatever is inside the box before it ignites."

"Why me?"

"Because you have the fastest reflexes," Brennan answered promptly.

"Alright, then you can pull the tray," he replied. Brennan agreed, and Cam stepped back several feet while the three of them worked together to remove a plastic key card from within the box. No sooner had Booth lifted it from the tray than the tiny fuse caused a flash burn within the tray, which momentarily blinded Zack.

The key card had a barcode on it, and Booth had forensics trace the origin. It turned out to be the key to room 1026 in the Municipal Department of Social Services. They tracked down the woman who now worked in that office, and she agreed to meet with Booth and Brennan at the Hoover.

Joyce Hewitt was a social services employee, and when they showed her the key card, she explained that keys like that hadn't been used in her building since the 70s. At that time, the occupant of office 1026 had worked with foster care and group homes. Brennan reminded Booth of Sweets' prediction that Gormogon probably had access to at-risk children at some point. Joyce explained that the man who had been in the office before her had retired and that he was something of a legend in the department. His name was Arthur Graves, and he had helped many children 'find their way.' He was now living in a nursing home that had been converted from an old mansion.

Booth and Brennan shared a significant look, both recalling that particular point of interest on Angela's map of the city. They thanked Joyce and followed her from the building. When they arrived at Restview Nursing Home, an orderly introduced himself as Mark Naylor and escorted them into one of the common rooms.

"Mr. Graves has been here for five years," Mark informed them. "In a wheelchair for the last four. Sweet guy… a little picky about what he eats," he shrugged.

"You have no idea," Booth muttered under his breath.

"Beg your pardon?"

"What's wrong with Mr. Graves?" Brennan asked, covering for her husband's sarcasm.

"Alzheimer's. The last few months, it's gotten really bad."

"Is he lucid?" Booth asked.

"He comes and goes." When they reached a balding man in a leather armchair, Mark addressed him directly. "Hey, Arthur. There are some nice people here to see you."

"Hey, Mr. Graves," Booth said evenly, holding his badge in front of the man's face. "FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth. Listen, we've got a court order here… to get a dental imprint from you." Graves showed no signs that he'd heard or understood Booth, and Brennan stepped forward cautiously.

"Mr. Graves, I'm not going to hurt you," she warned him. "I just need you to bite down on this for me." She held out her hand, moving the impression wax toward him. Graves suddenly turned toward her and hissed loudly, opening his mouth to show a complete lack of teeth. Mark apologized for his behavior.

"How did he lose his teeth?" Booth asked.

"They'd all been pulled when he got here."

"Does he have any regular visitors?"

"There used to be a man," Mark recalled. "He drove a motorcycle. I believe he may have been a nephew."

"We know who you are," Brennan told Graves, glowering at him as he stared straight ahead without acknowledging her. "We know what you did." She began to move toward him again, but Booth placed his hands lightly on her shoulders to restrain her.

"Alright, Bones, it's okay. Let's go. We'll check out his case files and see what kind of kids he could have recruited. Come on, let's go." He urged her from the room, but he didn't miss the satisfied smirk on Graves' face as they left.

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They picked up lunch on the way to the courthouse for Russ's parole hearing. Booth had called in a few favors in preparation for the hearing, but he was slightly uncomfortable at the prospect of sitting in on it.

"While we're here, I'm gonna get a court order to monitor Arthur Graves' visitors. Just in case Gorgonzola decides to come back and visit his old master."

"You're doing that Gorgonzola thing on purpose, aren't you?" He merely smirked in response as they approached Amy, who was sitting on a bench in the hallway.

"Hi, Temperance." Amy greeted her with a smile, but it faded when she looked at Booth. She was clearly unhappy with him for having arrested Russ. Booth stepped away for a moment, and Amy handed Brennan a drawing that Hayley had made for her. It showed a stick-figure family, and the little girl had written 'Thank You Auntie Temperance' across the top. Amy reported that Hayley was feeling much better today and had even wanted to come along.

A court officer called Booth and Brennan into the judge's chambers where Russ, Caroline, and Russ's parole officer were already waiting. Booth shook hands with Erica Davis, recalling belatedly that he had spoken to her on the phone a few times in the past. Once the meeting was underway, Ms. Davis defended Russ's actions quite passionately. Caroline disagreed with her belief that Russ could be trusted not to run, and the judge decided he'd rather hear from Booth rather than Brennan.

Booth shifted uncomfortably in his seat and waived the opportunity to speak. Brennan was surprised and confused by her husband's refusal, but the judge went on to say that he'd received calls from the Archbishop of DC as well as Dr. Sweets. The priest had promised to take a personal interest in Russ's rehabilitation, and Dr. Sweets had professed a belief that Russ would not flee the area again.

In the end, the judge made his ruling from Ms. Davis' suggestion that Russ spend the next thirty days in jail and have another eighteen months added to his parole. It was also stipulated that upon his release, he would be required to wear an ankle monitor.

"Thank you," Brennan told her husband as they were leaving. They watched Russ hug Amy goodbye before being led away by the court officers.

"I didn't do anything," he denied, not meeting her eyes.

"Sweets and the Archbishop called the judge on their own then?" she challenged. He didn't answer, but she saw his lips twitch slightly. She stopped his progress toward the building's exit and pulled him into a deep kiss. Booth was taken aback by her actions, conscious of the fact that dozens of people were watching them.

"Wow," he breathed when she eventually ended the kiss. Her answering smile was infectious.

"Again, thank you. I'm not sure why you didn't just speak for yourself though," she replied as they made their way back to the SUV.

"He needs to take responsibility, just like you told him. I can deny calling in the favors, but I already lied to his parole officer for him once. I told him that it would be the last time, and he needed to know that I meant it."

"I'm pretty sure he knows you made those calls, Booth."

"What calls?" he grinned. She smiled back and held his hand.

They went back to the hospital to visit with Hayley, who was indeed looking much better. Booth took a seat nearby and watched his wife read to her from The Secret Garden.

"'Why was I forgotten?' Mary said, stamping her foot. 'Why does nobody come?' The young man, whose name was Barney, looked at her very sadly. Mary even thought she saw him wink his eyes as if to wink tears away…" Brennan smiled down at Hayley before she continued the passage.

Booth felt a familiar ache in his chest as he listened to his wife read a story about a little girl who had been left alone, abandoned and forgotten. He realized with regret that Russ's girls had probably felt that way when Russ had left, but Booth was glad that they'd at least had their mother during that time. He hoped that Russ would make good on his word and clean up his act.

Children needed their parents.

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The cannibalistic murders continued to be an ongoing case, but Gormogon seemed to have gone underground. Ray Porter had gone missing, and Booth was fairly certain that the next time they saw him would be on the forensic platform. Booth and Brennan had a minor argument about safety precautions following the disappearance of the lobbyist. He wanted to continue utilizing FBI agents to follow her around town, but Brennan believed that it would be a waste of the Bureau's resources.

"Why can't I just carry my gun? I have a permit, and Cullen's finally okay with it. And you know I'm a good shot," she insisted.

He was wearing his tight-lipped scowl, but they both knew that her suggestion was a reasonable compromise. Booth acknowledged, privately at least, that he was probably being a little overprotective, but he'd come too close to losing her too many times. Her safety would always be a top priority for him, no matter how much it got on her nerves.

"Okay," he sighed. Her face lit up, and he quickly added, "But… If anything new develops in the Gormogon case, you get your tail back." Brennan stifled the urge to roll her eyes and agreed with his stipulation.

As the Christmas holiday loomed ever nearer, Booth and Brennan kept busy with work, shopping, and planning their vacation. They were both able to attend Parker's Christmas play at school this year, which made Parker exceptionally happy. Rebecca was polite and introduced them to her new boyfriend after the show. He seemed like a decent enough guy, but Booth kept a close eye on him until they left.

When they got home that evening, they finalized the plans for their trip. Since Parker hadn't been able to go to North Carolina with them the last time they'd made a beach trip, they decided to take him to Key West. He'd never seen the ocean before, and both partners were looking forward to a break from the DC winter. They planned to rent a small beach cottage and return home on New Year's Day.

In addition to their holiday preparations and busy work schedules, Brennan also made even more of an effort to visit her father and brother. Ironically, or perhaps not, her sleepless nights and loss of appetite began to diminish after she made the decision to work harder at her relationship with Max. She was finding it much easier to move forward with Russ, but she was doing her best to mend things with her father as well. During one of her visits with her brother, he asked her to register as a foster parent so that Hayley and Emma would be taken care of should something happen to Amy while he was in prison. Brennan was surprised but pleased by his request, and she promised to discuss it with Booth.

"I think it's a good idea, Bones. I'm surprised neither of them brought it up before now."

"I know. I thought of that too, but… he's asking now. I told him I'd discuss it with you," she replied.

"You know it's fine with me, baby. At least then we'll know that the girls wouldn't end up with the sort of people you got stuck with."

Brennan agreed with that perspective wholeheartedly. She didn't like to think of any child being in those situations, but she was especially protective of her nieces. The fact that Russ trusted her to take care of his daughters in an emergency went a long way toward earning her forgiveness for the events of the previous Christmas.

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When she next visited her father, it was less than a week before Christmas. She had decided to leave work a little early and stop at the prison on the way home. She had finally gotten to the point that she could feel comfortable in a room with her father, though there were still awkward moments here and there.

"You haven't asked me why I'm strapped in these chains," Max said, indicating the large, fake chains draped around his neck.

"Well, you're in jail," she grinned.

"No, I'm in dress rehearsal for 'A Christmas Carol.'"

"You're Jacob Marley?"

"Yeah. I wanted to be Scrooge, but some triple homicide in cell block H got the part. You don't wanna know how," he winked. Brennan laughed at his joke, and for once, her mind didn't immediately jump to how many murders he'd committed. "What are you going to do for Christmas?"

"Booth and I are taking Parker to Key West. He's never seen the ocean, and he's really excited about going to the beach for a few days. We're spending New Year's Eve there too." She'd been invited on a dig in Peru, but she'd turned it down without even mentioning it to Booth. Under normal circumstances, he probably would've approved of the trip since it would've been a safe one, but there was no way she was going to leave her family on Christmas.

"No snow? Doesn't sound very Christmas-y."

"We'll have the gifts and the food...and each other," she shrugged. "We're looking forward to it." Max's face fell slightly.

"You know what I'd like? I'd like to spend another Christmas with… with kids. With a family, with a tree." His expression was hopeful, but Brennan couldn't stop herself from pointing out the reality of the situation.

"You're in jail, Dad. So is Russ. Mom's dead."

"Yeah," he nodded sadly. "And Christmas is overrated anyway. People expect it to be so perfect, and it never is." His morose expression belied the optimism of his words, and Brennan tried to think of a way to bring his smile back.

"I remember the Christmas you and mom gave me the toolbox," she told him. "That was great."

"Yeah," Max brightened. "Except that the toolbox was for Russ. But you decided that it was yours, and he let you have it."

"He did?" she laughed, thinking of how different Christmas used to be when she was young, compared to what it was now. Her father and brother were in jail, but at least she wasn't alone anymore. That was something.

"I hope that...someday...we can have Christmas together again." His features were lined with sorrow again, and Brennan was at a loss for words. There was every possibility that Max would be found guilty of murdering Robert Kirby, and if that happened, he would most likely receive the death penalty. She didn't like to think about it.

As though he could somehow sense her discomfort, Booth chose that precise moment to text her about a new crime scene. She sighed in relief as she read the message, then immediately felt a little guilty for being happy that someone had died.

"I've gotta go look at a dead person," she said bluntly. Max chuckled ruefully.

"You never were good at sugar coating things."

Brennan smiled apologetically and left the room. When she met up with Booth at the lab, the conversation with Max was still weighing heavily upon her as she changed into her crime scene gear. Night had fallen by the time they were on their way to the crime scene, but even in the relative darkness of the SUV, Booth could tell that she was upset.

"You've got that sad little girl look on your face again," he remarked. She looked at him with watery eyes.

"No, I don't," she replied, a little petulant. He gave her a knowing look, and she rolled her eyes. "He wishes we could spend Christmas together with Russ and… 'kids.'"

"Okay. Why can't you?"

"They're both in jail," she reminded him unnecessarily. "It's impossible. Besides, we'll be in Florida."

"Well, nobody said it had to be on Christmas. Why not go visit them both a few days before we leave? I'd say we could all go, but Parker will be with Rebecca and Captain Fantastic," he said, his voice growing bitter toward the end of his statement.

"Captain Fantastic?" she echoed, confused by the change in direction. "Are you talking about Brent?" Booth merely grumbled in response, and Brennan turned toward him in her seat. "Booth, that attitude is completely ridiculous. Have you even looked at yourself in a mirror lately? You're a decorated war veteran, a supervising agent with the FBI, you put murderers behind bars. Feeling insecure about Rebecca's new boyfriend is completely illogical." Booth seemed to perk up a bit, and a smile played about his lips.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Plus, I have a gorgeous wife who kicks ass right along with me, right?"

"Sure," she laughed. He reached over to hold her hand, and they both fell silent for a few moments.

"You know… They have a trailer at the jail. Mostly for conjugal visits," he mused aloud.

"...So?"

"So maybe you can give your dad what he wants for Christmas. Amy could bring the kids, both your dad and Russ could be there…and you. You might have to pull some strings to get the trailer-"

"I'm not a string puller. You're a string puller."

"I've seen you pull some strings," Booth replied, thinking back over the many perks they'd enjoyed thanks to her reputation as both a scientist and an author. Brennan shook her head in denial but opted to change the subject.

"Where are we going?"

"Early Christmas present," he grinned. "Dead guy in a sewer."

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The body turned out to be that of a bearded, elderly man wearing a Santa suit. The team traded lame jokes about the possibility of the victim being Santa Claus, and the preliminary analysis went fairly quickly. Once the body was on its way to the Jeffersonian, Booth and Brennan went home for the night.

"So are you going to look into the trailer thing I mentioned?" Booth asked as they climbed into bed.

"I don't know. Who would I even talk to about it?"

"I'd start with Caroline."

"The last time I asked her for a favor, she wasn't exactly forthcoming," Brennan reminded him. "Besides, my parents left me at Christmas, and Russ left not long after. Twice. It doesn't exactly make me eager to bend over sideways. Why should I?" Booth sighed and pressed her into his chest.

"Backwards. You don't want to bend over backwards, but you should because... you're not them, Bones. You're not your parents or your brother. You're better."

"You've said that before," she sighed, recalling his reassurances that, in spite of having had to shoot Gil Lappin, she was not a murderer like her father.

"And it's still true," he insisted. "Why don't you sleep on it, okay? We can talk about it tomorrow." He brushed his lips across hers, but what he'd intended as a gentle goodnight kiss quickly turned into something more passionate. Brennan's tongue traced the smooth contour of his lower lip, and he immediately granted her entry. They moaned together as the kiss deepened, and Booth smiled when he felt her hands pulling his shirt upward.

There was an urgency in her touch, and he understood that she needed to get her mind off of everything. Their work, their plans, their family dramas… She needed to renew that connection between them, to experience that bond that made them feel like the only two people in the world. In achingly slow movements, they peeled each other out of their clothing until there was nothing between them. Not even air. Their mouths worshipped one another, reveling in every expanse of heated skin, every scar, every perfect imperfection.

Their bodies were moving rhythmically before they were even truly joined, and when Booth sank into her, the pace was slow, hard, and heavy. They never broke eye contact as they climbed the summit together, clinging, gasping, and craving more. He felt her clench down on him as he watched her eyes change to his favorite shade of blue, swallowing her cry of pleasure with his lips when he spilled inside of her. The aftershocks of their lovemaking were punctuated with kisses and caresses until at last they collapsed in one another's arms, whispering words of love and promise.

Booth fell asleep fairly quickly, but Brennan's thoughts kept her awake for a while. Their lovemaking had granted the clarity of mind she had needed, and she began to replay their previous conversation in her head. She realized that Booth was right, yet again. She wasn't like Max. She didn't solve problems by killing people, and she would never, ever leave her children behind, no matter what the circumstances. She decided that helping Max with Christmas might be a way to prove that, at least to herself. She made a plan to get Russ and Amy on board first, reasoning that there would be no sense in provoking Caroline for something that might not even be logistically possible.

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Brennan called Amy on her way to the prison the next morning, and she was immediately on board with the plan. Russ had missed Christmas with his stepdaughters last year, and Brennan felt sure that he would jump at the chance to spend at least a little time with them this Christmas. However, when she told Russ about the plan as well as her phone call to his girlfriend, his response was not at all what she'd expected.

"You shouldn't have done that," Russ told her, upset.

"Amy said the girls have been asking about you…"

"I lied to them, Tempe. The girls don't even know I'm in here. They think I went overseas to work," he said, his irritation growing. Brennan frowned and averted her eyes for a moment while she gathered her thoughts.

"It's Christmas. They need you. You made a mistake by leaving them last year; don't do that again. There's nothing worse than being abandoned at-" she stopped herself mid-sentence, not wishing to talk about her past or to make him feel guilty. Russ stared back at her with eyes full of pain and regret, his previous anger dissolving.

"You think it would be better for them to find out that the guy they think is so wonderful is actually a criminal?"

"When I found out Dad wasn't dead, I was happy, even though it turned out he was-"

"A murderer," he stated frankly. She sighed and fiddled with the gloves she'd taken off upon entering the facility.

"You are not a murderer, Russ."

"It doesn't sound like a good Christmas present to me."

"You could explain it-"

"No, Tempe," he cut her off again. "It's not going to happen."

Brennan's disappointment was evident on her face, but Russ wasn't swayed. She drove to the lab wondering if perhaps she should just let it go. She hated to think of her nieces missing their stepfather at the holidays again, but she couldn't see a way around it. When she entered her office, she was surprised to see Booth asleep on the couch. She'd expected him to be in his own office by now, even though she had left the house earlier than usual to make time for her visit with Russ.

"Booth," she said in a quiet tone, trying to rouse him gently. Waking her husband abruptly was always a bad idea. His years as a soldier had left him with physical reactions he couldn't always control, particularly while he was asleep. "Booth…" she crooned again.

"Hmm?" he hummed, his eyes still closed. She waited until he was alert enough to see her quizzical expression and held her hand to his forehead to check his temperature. "Sorry," he mumbled, sitting up.

"Why are you here? Asleep… Are you feeling alright? Did you not sleep well last night? You fell asleep so quickly..." She fired off her questions faster than he could answer, and he gave her a weary smile to reassure her.

"I'm fine. I was just waiting for the squints to come up with something. Must've dozed off." He shrugged off her concern, but in reality his feet were hurting more than usual. Winter was always the worst time of the year when it came to his aches and pains. What he really wanted was to go back to sleep. He opted to change the subject instead. "How did it go with Russ?"

"He says he doesn't want the girls to come," Brennan replied, watching his careful movements suspiciously.

"Why not?"

"They don't know he's in prison. Apparently, Russ and Amy told them that he's working overseas somewhere."

"Well, maybe we can work something out. Christmas… is about making the impossible happen," he said contemplatively. Brennan looked like she wanted to argue, but settled for a kiss instead.

"Why don't you close your eyes for a little while longer," she suggested as she stood up to change into her labcoat. He still looked exhausted, and she was concerned he might be coming down with something. "I'm going to go check in with everyone and see where we are on an ID. I'll come get you when we have a lead."

"Mmkay," he mumbled in agreement, already sinking back into the sofa. "Love you."

"Love you too," she smiled, closing her office door behind her.

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The victim's similarities to Santa Claus apparently didn't stop with his beard and wardrobe. His teeth bore particulate evidence from what Hodgins suspected might have been a clay pipe, and Zack found damage to his sacrum that indicated he may have been kicked by a cloven hoof. The FBI lab had managed to pull partial prints from the inside of his gloves, and the ID came back as one Kristopher Kringle, which actually turned out to be his real name. He had been employed by the DC school board as a professional Santa.

Brennan returned to her office to wake her husband again, and when he stood up, it was immediately clear to her what was troubling him. Her eyebrows contracted in alarm.

"Booth, why didn't you say anything?"

"About what?" he groaned, stretching gingerly.

"Your feet, obviously. Did you take anything?" She hovered over him in concern. "I might have something in my bag…"

"I took some ibuprofen. We have a case; it's not like I can take anything stronger than that." He pulled on a warm gray sweater before adding his suit jacket, and Brennan sighed when saw him wince as he stepped toward her. "Let's get going. You got an ID, right?"

"Yeah," she replied, still distracted. "You'll never guess who it is." He took the file from her outstretched hand and laughed out loud in spite of his pain.

"Seriously? That's his real name?"

"Apparently."

"Alright, let's go."

"Do you want me to drive?" she offered hopefully. The look he gave her made it clear that his feet would never hurt that badly, and Brennan smiled knowingly.

She donned her coat, gloves, and hat as they made their way out of the lab to the SUV. She didn't notice Booth's repeated glances in her direction as they made their way to the address in Kristopher Kringle's missing persons file. He couldn't help but smile as he gazed at her, thinking that her gray, knitted stocking cap was quite possibly the most adorable thing he'd ever seen her wear. It made for a nice distraction from her running commentary on Santa myths from around the globe.

"Well, there's the old Dutch 'Sinterklaas,'" she rambled, stepping into the street with so little precaution that Booth was forced to grab her arm so that she wouldn't be hit by a moving vehicle.

"Watch out," he admonished.

"I'm looking," she insisted. He rolled his eyes and tried to slow his thundering pulse.

"You're gonna get hit by a car."

"He had a partner named 'Black Peter' who carried a whip to beat naughty children," she continued as they crossed the street. The victim's address was in the middle of a shopping district, and holiday traffic had prevented them from parking any closer. "Myths are traditionally used to control behavior. For instance, the story of Moses bringing the Ten Commandments…"

Booth pulled her to a stop on the sidewalk and surprised her with a kiss. They ignored the steady stream of pedestrians weaving around them, and by the time they separated, Brennan was short of breath. Her cheeks were flushed, and it wasn't from the cold.

"What was that for?" she asked dazedly.

"To get you to stop trash-talking Santa," he smirked. "And because you look adorable in that hat." She rolled her eyes but couldn't keep the smile off of her face.

"I was only stating facts, and…you look very handsome today too," she admitted. He'd taken to layering a sweater under his suit jacket, and it had the effect of making his shoulders look even broader, if that were possible. "You look very...warm," Brennan added. She slipped her arms beneath his coat to wrap them around his waist and leaned up to kiss him again. They continued until a stranger advised them loudly to 'get a room.'

"Right," Booth sighed, attempting to gather his scattered wits. "Maybe we should continue this later."

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I love BB PDA. :) Of course, Brennan won't be skipping off to Peru in my story, but I did feel like she and Booth deserved some time away. Someone even mentioned that in a review or something, and I had to chuckle because I'd already written it.

Review or you'll get coal in your stocking. ;)