Spoilers for "High Treason in the Holiday Season"
The week before Christmas, 2016.
There was a flurry of activity in the Montenegro-Hodgins household. Kisses exchanged, coats and scarves put on, mittens found, good byes, and requests and promises to have fun. Finally, Booth and Hodgins were left alone as Angela, Michael-Vincent, Bones and Christine headed off to see The Nutcracker.
"Ok" Hodgins clapped and rubbed his hands together. "Let's get this party started. The stuff is in the workout room closet. You head down and start pulling it out, I'll get us some snacks."
Booth walked down the hall to Hodgins home gym, opened the closet and groaned. It was going to be a long night. He sighed and started unloading the first couple of boxes, then stood staring, hands on hips, trying to formulate a plan and failing miserably.
Hodgins wheeled in, took in his friends expression and chuckled. "Anything one man can imagine, other men can make real."
Booth stared at him blankly as he reached for the mug Hodgins offered. "Huh?"
"Jules Verne, Around the World in 80 days. Drink up, this isn't as bad as it looks."
Booth took a big gulp then nearly spewed all over the floor. "What the hell is this Hodgins?"
"Irish Coffee. Made with my own distillation of whiskey."
"Well, I think you might need to work on your distilling techniques, I think you could use this as paint thinner. I'm not seeing how us getting sloshed will help"
"Not sloshed, in the Christmas spirit."
"Yea, well. Christmas spirit I've got. What I lack is small, nimble fingers." He ran his hands through his hair. "Don't 'spose you've figured out how to build a robot or some damn thing that will put all those decals on Hank's Big Wheel on straight."
"Does Hank honestly care?"
"No, but, unfortunately his big sister has inherited her mother's respect for precision and detail. Last years work on her bike was considered sub standard. I ended up shifting the blame for shoddy workmanship on an arthritic elf."
Hodgins laughed at the mental image. "No robot, but you are talking to the man who performed an autopsy on an inch long worm. I think I can handle a few decals. You put the big stuff together, I'll do the decorating."
The division of labor worked well, and in no time, the trike was completed and looking good. They stepped back to admire their handiwork and have another hit of coffee.
"Ok, what's next?" asked Hodgins.
"I think Lance's."
"I can't believe you guys got him a drum set. That's so mean."
"Karma's a bitch." Booth shrugged. "Daisy and Sweets gave Christine a complete musical instrument set with cymbals, drums AND a xylophone. We are at least giving Daisy noise cancelling headphones. They gave us a bottle of ibuprofen and a box of plastic ear plugs."
The drum set was completed without much trouble other than the glare Booth gave Hodgins for continually humming "We are Santa's Elves" as he worked.
"Ok, who's next?"
"Can we do Michael Vincent's next? I'm dying to see how it turns out." Hodgins pleaded.
Angela had designed a kids sized replica of the ookey room tables for Michael, only his had an easel on one end as well. She had printed up plans on the Angelatron and Booth had spent time a while back cutting PVC pipes to the correct lengths while Hodgins took care of putting LEDs through plastic to make the table tops light up. Angela had painted the PVC to look like stainless steel, so all that was left was the assembly. This went very smoothly as well, despite the fact that both men's coffee cups were half empty.
"Wow! That looks really great. Almost makes me want to be a junior squint."
"It IS cool isn't it? " beamed Hodgins. "I can hardly wait till he sees it."
"Ok, 3 down 1 to go."
Christine's gift was also designed by Angela. A desk made in the style of the bone room, with a lighted top and translucent drawers. Booth was hoping that at least one of the drawers would hold crayons instead of bones, but he wasn't holding his breath. Hodgins had already assembled the drawers, so this went together quickly as well. The finished products were admired, plans were made for pickup of the B&B household items and Hodgins locked the door behind him to prevent snooping as they headed to the living room to await their families.
They rewarded themselves or a job well done with another cup of coffee. "I gotta tell you bug boy, your whiskey does seem to improve with age. Either that or it killed my taste buds." Booth sighed contentedly.
Hodgins saw that his friends cup was half empty, so being the good host topped it off, forgetting the coffee part of the beverage. "So, now that we're done, you're buzzed, and I can see you're unarmed, I can ask the question. Why did Christine tell Michael that you were banned from the ballet? And who's done the banishment?"
"She and Bones have. Evidently I was an embarrassment last year."
"What did you do?"
"Well, last year Bones publicists got tickets right after Thanksgiving right? Parker had come to visit, and we finished The Patriot case, the day before Thanksgiving. Parker was on UK time, so he was getting up early and I was getting up early to hang out with him. I was also working late because was a high profile case, we got a lot of 'help' from the brass, and I was dealing with paperwork like crazy for the justice department and having to give the PR guys constant updates for the press conferences. So, pretty much up to my ass in alligators the whole week."
Hodgins nodded remembering.
"So, by the time the ballet rolls around, Parker had just flown home that morning, I haven't had a lot of sleep for a week, and the theater was packed and very warm. And the symphony hall had just replaced all their seats, so they're pretty cushy. So, I fell asleep."
"That seems harmless."
"Yea, well we were in the third row. Dead center."
"Still not banishment material."
"There was snoring involved."
"Oops."
"During the Waltz of the Snowflakes."
"Ok, that's a little more noticeable."
"Several orchestra members glared."
"I could see where that would ruin the magic." Hodgins said solemnly.
Both men burst out laughing at that. As the giggles subsided, Hodgins rolled to the desk and took out a small object, tossing it to Booth.
"Speaking of the Patriot case, I've been meaning to give you this for a long time, but kept forgetting."
Booth looked at the object in his hand. It was a clear sphere, about the size of a billiard ball with small flecks suspended in it. The flecks were red, blue, silver and black. Booth examined it, a little puzzled. Finally he noticed that some of the flecks had remnants of circuitry on them. He looked at Hodgins. "Is this what I think it is?"
"If you think it's a pulverized flash drive, then yes. I destroyed it last Thanksgiving like you asked. Angie decided that she needed to make art out of ugliness, so she painted some of the bits and made the mold. We were going to give it to you for Christmas last year, but then this happened" He nodded towards the wheelchair. "I just wanted to make sure you knew that I really did get rid of it man."
"I never doubted it, but thank you." Booth kept rolling the ball in his hand, staring at how the lights reflected through it. It really was pretty.
Booth went over to Hodgins and held out his right hand, grasping the scientist on the shoulder with his left. "I know that went against every thing you hold dear to make this. Yet you did it because I asked you to. I really don't know what else to say but THANK YOU."
Hodgins nodded and shook the agents hand.
They heard their wives and children coming in the front door.
"Merry Christmas, Booth."
"Merry Christmas, Jack."
