Chapter 30: Limbo II

Here it is - the big finish. I didn't want to taint your reading experience with an author's note at the end, so here it goes: This story has been a pleasure to write, and your reviews have awed, cheered and moved me. You have all been amazing and I hope you don't get lost in cyber space and latch on to some of my other stories in the future. I foresee a sequel, but not before I start and finish other stories (and I kind of want to see where the sixth season sets the scene.) To all of you - as Hodgins says in "Aliens in a Spaceship" - It's been a privilege.

"You shouldn't skulk," Brennan half-heartedly reprimanded Booth, catching him ducking out of her office for the fifth time. She had been barricaded out of it, and to her frustration, Cam had allowed it.

"And you shouldn't sulk," he cheerfully and cheekily retorted. Brennan's scowl grew.

"It's my party and I'll sulk if I want to," she stuck her tongue out like a child in a tantrum, while Booth slowly mock applauded her knowing a pop cultural reference in a song.

"Sweetie," sang Angela, swinging around her best friend as if she were the horseshoe and Brennan the stake. Angela finished her orbit with a tight, rib-crushing hug. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks," puffed Brennan, who didn't have enough air to even squeak. "Booth, could I please go in there to retrieve-"

"Nope!" He impudently steamrolled her query. "Like I said. No one goes in or out except me. I'm working on your present!"

"Well how long can it take Booth?" she fumed, "It's already eleven o'clock and you've been in there since before I arrived!"

"Yep. I got here at 8:30. But it's been done for ages." He waited for her blustery exclamation to get stuck in her throat somewhere as he saucily stroked a finger down her windpipe to Brennan's consternation, and Angela's delight.

"Well! I won't look or anything," Brennan said, but try as she might, the edge of a whine snuck in. Booth gave her his best father's look before wrinkling his nose impishly and smirking at her.

"No. What do you need?"

"The case file DXR452, bone splinters charred in appearance and masticated by closer proxy examination." Brennan enjoyed tantalizing Booth by bespeaking the most obtuse and arcane words for a simple explanation. She narrowed her eyes as he shrugged and disappeared. She waited; foot tapping as Angela narrated her life story and in an undertone confessed her and Hodgins' complicated relationship was back on again. Brennan was sure Booth would arrive with an armful of all her files, just to taunt, frustrate and completely admit defeat. To her surprise, he came back with the exact file she needed; she recognized the tabbing.

"How did you know?" she asked, shocked.

"Easy Bones. Easy. You use your intellect speak when you want to be as irksome as possible. XR means an X-Ray was performed and D if it's a Jane or John Doe. That narrowed it down to two cases. 452 is the last three digits in the zip code in which it was found, and…" he trailed off to brazenly enjoy her surprise, "charred and masticated really just mean burned and chewed on. Which means the animal case at the park we just picked up. See? I'm not as dumb as I look." Brennan's outrage had flamed into a smile of both pride and exasperation.

"Awww," cooed Angela. "He learned your record system for you. How adorable."

"I guess," grouched Brennan. "I'll keep him." Booth beamed. "Now can I see my present?"

"Not yet," came the irritating answer.

"There's a party downstairs for you," beamed Angela. "I'm supposed to bring you. Oh, and it's a complete surprise."

"No it's not," said Brennan blankly.

"Yes," said Angela, a tad bit impatiently, "because I told you. I know you hate surprises." Booth opened his mouth to correct Angela that Brennan wasn't blind and had noticed the furtive movement, but with one of their thousands of gestures between them, Brennan wearily waved him off. It didn't hurt Angela not to spoil her fun.

"That's very gracious," Brennan informed her. "And you're right. I do hate surprises."

"Come see what we all got you," implored her best friend, tugging on Brennan's arm. "Work can wait. At least for an hour."

"In an hour it will be lunch."

"Exactly!" Angela beamed. "That's why you can wait!" Not wanting to point flaws in her logic, Brennan sighed and casting one last glance at the door Booth was menacingly guarding, allowed herself to be dragged away, hearing Booth's light footsteps taking up the rear as they all walked to Limbo.

"So you want in on the pool Booth?" Angela called over her shoulder.

"For what?" he sounded amused.

"No gambling," Brennan said severely.

"Aw, come on Bones," Booth immediately whined. "When I took that bet with Sweets about the kid being the counselor….you were the bank…" he trailed off desperately before tugging a lock of her hair from behind on her neck that had escaped her bun. She jumped, and cast him a stern glance, lips tight, over a shoulder. He grinned cheekily, not the least remorseful. His face crinkled. "Wait? What's the pot for?"

"Who it's for is more like it," laughed Angela. "It's on the baby's gender."

"Jared's?" gasped Booth.

"More like Padme's," corrected Angela.

"Wait, but you don't even know him that well."

"But Cam does – and she and Hodgins made a bet. Then Wendell wanted in. And then me, and I'm pretty sure all the interns are in except of course," her voice dropped, laden with amusement, "Clark."

"Well obviously," Brennan said scathingly, "Dr. Edison is very driven in his work and can't be distracted by-"

"Well what are the odds?" Booth blithely steamrolled Brennan's reprimand; she was getting testy because she was getting nervous. He could tell because the pretty little pulse under one ear was fluttering as they came closer and closer in proximity to the door down to bone storage.

"Well actually most people are betting it'll be a girl."

"What?" Booth's forehead creased as it did when he was flummoxed. "I thought it was a pretty even split. 50-50 odds and whatnot."

"They figure since you and Jared were both boys, that karma's got a girl coming for you."

"Oh." Booth couldn't quite think of what to say.

"That's preposterous!" screeched Brennan, her voice a register higher than normal because of nerves as they touched the door handle. "There's absolutely no method of prediction—"

"SURPRISE!" The call halted her in her tracks on the stairs, face milk white (whiter than usual), and blue eyes huge with surprise. Sweets was standing over an enormously tiered cake frosted just short of wedding cake magnificence, looking far too happy holding a giant knife for serving. Hodgins was exuberantly and openly dumping a bottle of rum into the punch bowl while he smiled angelically; Cam finished straightening the table cloth on what suspiciously resembled several examining tables crammed together into a long buffet style, lowered to seating level. Guests included all her interns, some FBI agents she had seen around with Booth (including the ever present but always forgettable Charlie), and even Caroline Julian, who was looking droll in a paper hat no doubt wrested on her by Angela.

Within seconds, Angela had crowned Brennan with a sparkly tiara (to Brennan's horror and Booth's endless amusement) while Daisy led a high pitched happy birthday serenade to the good doctor looking shocked on the stairs. Booth privately thought to himself that it was a good thing Brennan was so observant or that Angela had told her, because if Brennan's face had been any whiter, she could have been a corpse.

When everyone had quieted, a staticky voice said, "Happy Birthday Dr. Brennan!" Brennan's blanched face turned dangerously a shade paler as her eyes flooded with tears of their own accord.

"Zack?" she whispered.

"Over here Dr. Brennan." Cam obligingly stepped aside, with a conspiratorial wink at Booth, to reveal an open laptop with a video feed to Zack's insane asylum. He waved cheerfully; his hands gloved, as Brennan moved forward as if he were a ghost, tears unheeding on her cheeks. Clark, who was nearest to the laptop, actually stepped forwards instead of back, to gently squeeze Brennan's arm as she turned in a wide circle.

"This is…" she managed to choke out. "This is…the best," she enunciated the word fervently, "surprise birthday party ever." The entire room erupted into laughter; no one believed that for one second she didn't know what had been going on. "I mean it," Brennan nodded. Her hands gesticulating. One caught someone in the chest and she turned to apologize, only to come inches away from Booth, her hand still glued to his lapel.

"Birthday kiss!" hollered Hodgins, backed up by instant chants from all the male interns and even Caroline taking a cynical sort of interest.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" Laughing, Brennan was the one to grab Booth before jumping into his arms, kissing him passionately, trying to convey through every slow, heated sweep of her tongue, what she herself could not say. Booth dipped her back, like an old fashioned movie, and kissed her until people were clearing their throats instead of egging them on. By the time they were finished everyone was silent with shock, their jaws on the floor.

"You asked for it," muttered Booth, as Brennan, stupefied and overjoyed, stumbled a few steps towards the punch bowl. In the absolute ringing silence, one voice spoke.

"Did I miss something?" asked Zack, in complete puzzlement. It broke the mood into another helpless round of laughter while Hodgins scurried over to be the first to chat with Zack at the table. Funnily enough, Vincent Nigel-Murray pulled up a chair with a keen interest to talk to the "genius nutter in the loony."

"Want to see our gift?" chirruped Fisher, dredging up as best he could a spot of sunshine on his soul. "All the interns pitched in. Hey – it's amazing," he added defensively, as Booth guided Brennan by the arm after a trail of bouncing interns, Mr. Nigel-Murray coming to stand with the rest encircling a big ugly something under a blanket. With a magnificent sweep, Daisy pulled the cover off the big hulking thing. It was a 50s style jukebox. "Okay," Wendell admitted, with a sheepish grin and two upheld hands, "I totally got it off ebay…but Booth's list said you like old school jazz and-"

"Booth's list?" Brennan raised an eyebrow and Booth immediately shot them all a death glare.

"Yeah, well, I thought since they were all going to buy you something anyway..." grumbled Booth. "They all kept coming up for corny advice so I just…followed Cam's example and sent out a mass email."

"To everyone?" gasped Brennan.

"Just the lab," retorted Booth defensively.

"Look how well it works," chimed in Mr. Nigel-Murray, oblivious to their argument. He chose a record and out floated a big band classic, the saxophone dominating the sound. Before Brennan could protest or ask them to take it back, Booth had swept her up in his arms and set around the middle of limbo whirling her in his arms past hallways of skeletons.

Hodgins abdicated his seat to Cam as he caught up Angela to dance and Sweets grabbed Daisy. Clark was enough of a gentleman (and the only one brave enough) to take Caroline by the hand while Zack protested as Wendell good naturedly spun Cam from her seat. The FBI team and the rest of the Squints started clapping and stamping their feet as Zack laughed at Brennan's both thrilled and petrified face as she whirled past.

"Booth!" but her plea was weak. She was enjoying herself and together she and Booth danced until the song ended.

"Punch!" called Hodgins, setting himself up as bartender. Sweets began dicing the cake while Cam fluttered nervously, looking as if she wanted nothing more than to wrest the sharp object out of Sweets' hands.

"I'd really prefer…" but struck with sudden genius she whispered in Sweets' ear and he reluctantly abdicated his position as cake server to Cam, who fed overly generous helpings to anyone in line. And an extra big one to the FBI guy who winked at her.

"What did Dr. Saroyan say to you?" asked Daisy, sitting down at the buffet table next to her Lancelot. Sweets was pouting and shoveling his cake around but brightened at her query.

"She said if I gave the knife to her, I'll get to hold a brain. Not just touch it. Hold it." Daisy looked at him like he was insane, but he happily enough acquiesced to eating.

"Why is it pink?" asked Brennan, her nose wrinkled as she stared in bewilderment at her pink cake and white icing. Booth winked roguishly both at her and Cam while being served before leading her to her place of honor. He licked a thumb free of icing as he set down his plate before leaning over and straightening her tiara that she had forgotten she was wearing.

"It's strawberry," smiled Booth, smug as a cat in cream. Brennan laughed.

"My favorite," she conceded.

"Presents!" crowed Angela. "Open mine now." She handed Brennan a large box. Brennan protested but Angela frowned. "It's hand made. I didn't buy it at any store." Booth noticed Angela said nothing on how much she spent. He ducked to hide a smile as Brennan almost too eagerly ripped off the wrapping paper. He wondered how many birthdays had slipped by uneventfully. He wondered if she had ever really been longing for one like this year. He had thought she would have thrown a big production; he was now perplexed he hadn't figured on doing this earlier.

"It's-" Brennan seemed to be at a loss for what it was. Opening the cardboard box – which clearly read as Malibu Oranges- was a computer or technological device of some kind.

"It's a mini Angelator!" beamed Angela. "But you can put this one to more practical uses rather than blah old murder. This one can try on shoes and record video and memories three dimensionally. Also – if you ever want outfit advice-" Angela wiggled her eyebrows as Brennan blushed.

"Ange…thank you. It's really thoughtful." But Booth could tell she was secretly pleased. Evidently so could Angela, because instead of throwing a fit, she sat back, with a self-congratulatory smile on her face.

"Mine next," beamed Sweets. His was simply an envelope. Brennan opened it and took out an official document. Her eyes briefly assessed it before they became too watery to read. Wordlessly, she handed it to Booth, who was boiling over with concern. His own eyes flicked both over the page and to Brennan's face. Yet by the time he got to Sweets' signature on the bottom, he too was feeling emotional.

"This is…" he said in a low, gruff voice.

"What is it?" asked Cam impatiently. Sweets beamed.

"It's my authorization that they can stay as partners even now that they are together as a couple. I've decided it'd be foolish to break up such a valuable hard-working team."

"It's the best present you could have given me," Brennan said sincerely, an escaped tear glistening on her cheek. Booth idly brushed it away without even looking at her, gently folding the paper back into the envelope. Sweets read the sincerity.

"I know," he said just as genuinely, "which is great," he added. "Because I have nothing else. I couldn't think of anything!" Everyone laughed and the tension went out in a rush.

"Mine next," said the tinny voice. Zack's too, was an envelope. "But you should wait and open it later."

"Okay…" said Brennan uncertainly. But Sweets' eyes got huge. He knew what the paper said. It too, would radically change Brennan's world. He personally thought it showed remarkable acuity for Zack to realize the importance and recognize the social situation. Over one shoulder, Sweets gave him an approving nod. Zack looked grim. It would also radically change his own world.

"Cam, you should go," urged Hodgins, his eyes sparkling. He evidently wanted his to be last. Angela threw him a look. She knew better; Hodgins wouldn't get her an actual pony.

"Okay…" Cam knew Brennan the least, though their trip in California had strengthened their relationship. "In addition to one more free pass to flout my authority per week…" Brennan gasped in excitement at the privilege, which made Cam internally flinch. "Here." She handed down the line of people a small bag. Brennan opened the bag to find a necklace box. Murmuring how beautiful the jewelry store that manufactured the box was, Brennan opened it carefully. Inside, lying along the velvet, was a gorgeous silver necklace. Brennan scrunched her brow puzzling it out before she gasped in comprehension. The wide, arching silver met in the middle as it clasped in front through a loop with a curious two pronged tie. It took her a moment to realize the tie was the tail of a dolphin, and the silver body gracefully arching around the neck, the head meeting the tail and an aquamarine topaz stone set as the glittering eye.

"Oh it's beautiful," she murmured reverently, lifting it out and immediately trying it on. "Where did you find it?" Under the table, Booth gave Cam two thumbs up. She had evidently read his list as the necklace fell under both tastefully clunky jewelry and Brennan's love for dolphins.

"It wasn't that hard really," Cam demurred as exclamations were made around the table.

"Here." The voice was unceremonious as all eyes swiveled in ripe astonishment to Caroline Julian, thrusting a small package forward. "What?" she scowled, "you think my mother raised me without taste?" All the interns began babbling hastily that they in no way implied her mother had anything to do with anything. Smiling privately, Brennan laughed outright when she pulled out the coffee mug. Two stick figures – obviously designed by the same website that did those irritating families on car window decals- decorated the mug. One was a woman holding a giant bone and a shovel, and the other was a man holding a smoking gun to his lips. On the reverse, it simply said,

"Don't call me Bones." Everyone laughed for the fourth or fifth time, patting Caroline on the arm until she looked positively green with the good will she was receiving.

"That's great," grinned Booth.

"I gotta go Cheri," Caroline informed them. "My lunch break is almost up." Immediately the other agents stood and plead the same excuse. The squints danced two or three more rounds – one even an elaborate and horrible waltz – while Booth and Brennan both talked to Zack, before the party wound down.

"One last present," announced Hodgins. He nodded conspiratorially at Wendell, who rushed off to do his bidding. Zack looked around his frame confused at the clopping sound that came down one of the far halls to the left.

"No way," laughed Brennan as both Angela and Cam dropped their punch at the outrageous gift. Ambling into view was an enormous horse, obviously of high caliber European breeding, led by Wendell and covered with a beautiful blue blanket that said _ Brennan.

"You can get it embroidered after you name him," grinned Hodgins at her and Booth's stunned faces.

"Him?" said Booth carefully.

"He's a Hanoverian. Even tempered."

"He's beautiful," whispered Brennan, enchanted at the large black solid, living, breathing horse standing in the middle of her party.

"I know what you should name him," laughed Booth. Brennan turned, cocking an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah?"

"Hey I figured out your filing system," Booth reminded her. "Like this is hard." He waved one hand grandly at the black horse. "Say hello to….Jasper." Brennan began laughing, even while protesting it wasn't funny. Yet she knew in her heart she could never once take another name seriously.

"Jasper," she cooed, stroking the velvety nose. She surreptitiously fed it some cake. The gelding noisily smacked its lips at the sugary treat.

After a round of goodbyes to Zack and Jasper, and Hodgins leading the horse out of the back door (as horses cannot climb stairs) to the trailer waiting in the parking lot, the party was over.

"That was amazing," gushed Angela as they made their way upstairs, the punch making everyone joyous, tipsy and gloriously alive. Brennan had accordingly granted everyone a half day – using her newfound steamroller to ignore Cam's protests - before Cam, groaning, had laughed and began parceling cake as a sort of party favor.

"Here," called Brennan to no one in particular, absently stroking her new dolphin necklace. "Who wants my crown?" A high pitched elated screech resounded from the knot of people.

"It would be my honor," Daisy breathed, panting from her sprint before kneeling at Brennan's feet. Booth couldn't help it and burst out laughing. Sweets hurried over, muttering a placating excuse about too much punch. Brennan shrugged, carefully disentangled her hair (lest Daisy worship that as a shrine as well), and thrust the crown as unceremoniously as she could to Daisy's tremulous grip.

"Oooh!" crowed Hodgins, coming in late, glimpsing the crown and snatching it from Daisy's clasping fingers to cram on his curly hair. "Look at me! I'm such a pretty king of the lab!" He did a pirouette while Daisy collapsed into tears whilst Angela and Cam laughed, punch drunk, as Sweets consoled her. Brennan gave Daisy her pen instead. Daisy seemed to find this absolutely suitable replacement and skipped off, veering constantly to the left, as Sweets chased after her.

"Now for my present," Booth said in a husky timber that had Brennan's knees turning to jelly and her abdomen dropping to the floor in a liquid pool of desire.

"We could at least wait until we're in private," she teased and satisfactorily saw Booth's eyes darken with lust.

"That too," he grinned. "I almost forgot."

"You what?" Brennan tried to pretend to be angry, but found it impossible with her head spinning pleasantly both from whirling, punch and a third helping of her own strawberry cake.

"You can come to your office now," smiled Booth, his voice like liquid chocolate. In a daze, Brennan followed after him, intoxicated.

"I'll wait here," he informed her, ignoring her protesting look. "This one – I promise Bones, you'll want to see this for yourself." Brennan's heart pounded, thundering in her ears next to the ring swinging between her breasts. Russ' wedding suddenly seemed an age away.

"Where's my St. Christopher's medal?" she asked petulantly instead.

"All in due time," laughed Booth. "Go on. It won't bite. It's not even alive like Hodgins' present."

"Jasper," glowed Brennan, and she saw Booth's eyes darken even further.

"This one's for you, from me," Booth said, instead of grabbing her and plundering her mouth with his tongue as he really wanted. Brennan hesitated, hand on the door frame, unsure of her nerves. She swallowed and slipped inside.

It was dark.

But as her eyes adjusted, immediately she wanted to laugh. She should have known Booth had been building all this tension for nothing. Sitting squarely in the middle of the room in a tangle of electrical cords was a big cardboard box wrapped like a giant present. It glowed from the inside. Brennan could only guess he would make her unwrap box after box until she found the St. Christopher's medallion at he very bottom, with a gag gift of a lit light bulb or something else "Boothy" and ridiculous. She sighed and moved forward to read the tag.

It simply read: Enter from back. Puzzled, she circled around the wrapped refrigerator box. There was a doorway cut out of the back. Curious, Brennan got down on her hands and knees and crawled inside. She gasped.

Littering the floor were several pillows. Most of which, she was amused to note, came from her own couch not three feet away. But Booth had done a marvelous job rigging and stapling the entire inside of the box until it glowed with strings of white Christmas lights. Foil stars, like at her prom, glued with hand drawn pictures she suspected Parker helped with, hung from the ceiling on clear fishing line. They appeared to be floating in the twinkling lights and came perilously close to whapping her in the face. They glinted in the light as she took in the nighttime wonderland. She crawled to the far edge of the box and sat down, reclining. She glanced upwards, thoroughly impressed and to no end amused when she saw constellation after constellation printed from the internet, carefully cut and stapled into a collage of the night sky. Predictably, Booth had put them all in the wrong positions – but it was the thought that counted.

As her eyes adjusted to the glowing little haven Booth had so painstakingly made for her, Brennan had to wonder what on earth it was all about. She stopped a moment to savor her unwitting pun. As her eyes scanned for her favorite constellation – the dolphin – her gaze snagged on another fishing wire nestled in the middle of the star field glinting in the light. She had missed it through the gently twirling foil stars and the dazzling lights. When she followed the string down to what lay on the end, her breath caught.

"Do you like it?" Booth's voice startled her so much she physically jumped, rattling the cardboard. His face peeped through the doorway as he maneuvered his bigger bulk into the sanctuary with her.

With trembling fingers, Brennan reached upwards and gave the string the lightest of touches, causing the glittering, scintillating diamond ring on the end to twist and dance in the strings of lights. His face was lit with its own light in the background of the ring.

"It's…" she couldn't finish as he deftly yanked the string down and slipped the ring from its loose knot so it could glimmer in his palm.

"My St. Christopher's medal," he finished for her. The medallion had been bent to be the setting around the diamond, much like petals around a flower. The golden band had been easy enough to add, creating a one of a kind engagement ring from a piece of himself. His face split in two with a craggy, tremulous grin. "I told you you'd get it back." Her breath hitched, as did his voice. "Bones…please say something."

Instead, she carefully reached around her neck for the chain she always wore and pulled it over her head, gently around her ears. Without unhooking the masculine ring, now also glittering fiercely in the low light from the ruby, she nipped the St. Christopher's ring from his hand and dropped his father's ring into his cupped palm as he stared numbly.

"Where did you get this?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Taylor gave it to me." His eyes flew to her face.

"Do you know what it means-"

"Yes." Her voice was just as hushed. She laughed an almost sob. "I was going to give it to you at the reception of Russ' wedding. We were going to go for a walk…in those shoes." Booth coughed a laugh, the tears stark in his eyes, and in his soul. They both looked at their rings – specially made and specially gave. Booth finally took a deep breath. He took the St. Christopher's ring from her numb fingers and gently, like a whisper, slid it over the fourth finger of her left hand.

"Will you marry me?" he asked breathlessly. She smiled beatifically.

"Only if you marry me first," she retorted back; their bickering zinged between them, a familiar friend in an unfamiliar place. Rings glimmering they stared, wide eyed at each other. Terrified and glorified.

She didn't see him, and he didn't remember moving, but suddenly he had swept her up in his arms, gripping her tightly until he was hugging her so tightly the box was shaking and Booth was struck with the wonderful, wild idea to shake it in a completely different way. Before his mouth descended on hers and he got totally carried away, Booth rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing deeply into her hair before whispering the first words of their married life:

"Happy birthday Brennan."