Mid January. 3 months since that Wednesday
Brennan watched the snow falling on her balcony and thought about how pretty it was. It struck her that Booth would say it was "magical". She quickly pushed that thought out of her head and looked back down to the journal on her lap. Reading about archaeological digs was interesting enough to keep her mind occupied - until the next time he popped into her head. She didn't really understand why. It had been three months now and she had expected that his memory would fade, but lately it felt like she heard his voice in her head with slightly more frequency. The reading in the journal wasn't doing it for her tonight, so she set it back on her lap, looked over to the sliding glass doors to the balcony, and decided to enjoy the tranquility and beauty that came with a night snowfall. Walking around on nights like these gave her a feeling of peace. The whole world sparkled and it was so quiet you could almost hear the snowflakes piling up on the ground, fence posts, benches. She briefly considered putting on her winter gear and going for a walk, but it was too nice and warm cuddled up on her sofa with a soft afghan and a cup of steaming tea beside her providing the warmth. She had always loved snow, but by about the second or third day when the piles on the sidewalk were turning black, she wanted it gone. And by March she was also done with the snow and looked forward to watching the spring bulbs sprouting and the grass seeming to green up overnight. But it was only January, and March seemed a long way off.
She found her mind drifting back to Booth again. He was so much like a child when it came to Christmas. She had never known anyone else who combined that mix of childlike wonder and religious reverence in the holiday. Since that Christmas so long ago when her parents disappeared weeks before the holiday, she tried to make Christmas just any other day. She did the same thing on Mother's Day and Father's Day and made sure to avoid any place where she would have to watch people her age celebrating those special days with their parents. That's why she usually spent the Christmas holidays off somewhere on a dig in a remote part of the world where she could avoid all of the festivities. She knew exactly what she was doing and she knew it was a classic case of avoidance, but she didn't care. It worked. Until she met Booth. Damn him. He made it fun. And she didn't want it to be fun. She wanted Christmas just not to happen. Their first Christmas together as partners was the one when they were all locked together in the lab due to the quarantine. She had to chuckle thinking back to some of his antics, especially when he was the only one who got high off of the anti-fungal injections they all received. That was when she discovered that Booth had a son. And that was when she met Parker for the first time. Parker. She had grown to love that little boy and she hoped that he was happy in his new family unit with Hannah. She missed Parker. She missed Booth. That reminded her of the night that the two of them surprised her and her family with the lit Christmas tree in the parking lot of the prison. It was by far the best Christmas present she had ever received. How could a man with so much heart treat her so shabbily that day three months ago? Unbidden, the kiss under the mistletoe that preceded her family gathering came crashing into her brain. She never let on how shaken she was as they sprang apart, and she thought he might feel the same way, but she was so discombobulated that she wasn't able to gauge his reaction. And then there was the time that she stripped him down to his boxers in the middle of the lab because he had goop from the murdered Santa on his clothes. Was it really necessary to remove EVERYTHING? There were remains on the suit coat, the tie, the belt buckle. But looking back, she wasn't convinced that it was absolutely necessary to remove his shirt and his pants. A sly smile lit her face. Maybe that was her Christmas present to herself? 'Stop it! This is not helping!' She forced herself to jump to this past Christmas. The one without him. This was safer territory. She had found another dig to travel to, and this time she wanted it to be very far from home. Distance was best. So she found herself in Oman on the Arabian peninsula. The dig didn't yield any important discoveries, but she felt satisfaction taking part in the uncovering of countless pieces of history. And it kept her busy through the entire holiday season. And most of all, it made her unreachable. The western world could have fallen into a giant sinkhole and she would have been unaware until she reached the airport to fly home. Where would she go next Christmas? She would cross that bridge when she came to it. She looked back out on the beauty of the snow continuing to bury her balcony. She tried to empty her mind and just enjoy the snow. But here it came again. 'I miss Booth.'