Secret Santa! BONES! "To Enjoy Christmas"
title: To Enjoy Christmas
fandom: Bones
pairing: B/B friendship
rating: PG
summary: Brennan always felt sad whenever Christmas came around, then Booth arrives to her apartment door.
this fic is for: danu_mactire
they asked for:
1. A Celtic myth and/or legend
2. A tattoo (getting one or one that already exists).
3. Candles
disclaimer: I own Bones? Oh noes! Me does not.
Stars sprinkled the sky as the sun dove beyond the horizon, leaving the streetlights and Christmas lights to light up the city, and she turned away from the window, letting the darkness invade her apartment. It was Christmas time, and it left her with a lonely feeling inside. Even as a child she had felt like this, when her parents were sleeping just across the hall, and she shared a room with her brother. Then she would sneak up during the night and sit on the stair, waiting for Santa Clause to come so that she could tell him that her real wish was that she could be as happy as her mom could be during Christmas.
Not even now, over twenty years later, could she say why she was feeling so sad. There had never before been a desire to discover why, but now, she wondered how it became that way.
It was two in the morning on Christmas day, and she knew that children all over the world were waiting anxiously for morning to come so that they could open their gifts, some had already opened theirs and were sleeping soundly in their beds.
She was startled out of her thoughts when there was a quick rap on the door. After glancing at the clock quickly, she walked towards the door, weary of who it could be. There were only two choices. One meant that she was in big trouble and should not open the door, and the other was Booth.
“C’mon Bones, hurry up!” Booth called from the other side of the door, and she could not help herself from smiling as she opened the door.
“Booth, what are you doing here?” Maybe she sounded a bit too harsh and cold towards him, it was after all one of the most recognized Christian holidays, and he was very fond of them. However, it did not matter what day it was, it was still two in the morning and he should be at home asleep.
“Thought you might want some company,” he said as he pushed her aside gently and walked into her apartment. “Where are all the Christmassy thingies?” He asked as he stood in her hallway, looking around stupidly.
“I don’t celebrate Christmas, Booth, or any other holiday for that matter,” she told him, closing the door and walking towards her living room, and he followed behind her.
“Right.” He sat down on the couch heavily, looking around the room. “Still no TV?”
“No, why would I want one?” She asked, and sat down next to him.
“Because,” he empathized, “it’s fun,” he said with a shrug.
“That’s the only reason?” She asked with a smile.
“No, it’s good to have when I come here,” he added while pointing at himself.
“And how many times are you here?” She asked.
“I don’t know, it could be more often…,” he said, leaning back on the couch and looked at his hands. She was not dumb, she could recognize the signs of discomfort, but she could not understand why saying that would make him so uncomfortable. He looked around the room, his leg bouncing restlessly up and down, and she stared at it with clear annoyance written over her face.
“Do you have a laptop then?” He questioned with a raised eyebrow, and she frowned at the question.
“Of course, why wouldn’t-”
“Great, where is it?” He cut her off and looked around the room more eagerly, trying to spot something that looked like a laptop.
“In my bedroom,” she answered, and then frowned again, “why do you ask?”
“I have a DVD with me!” he revealed, pulling it out from underneath his jacket.
“The Sword in the Stone?” She asked skeptically.
“What, didn’t you watch it as a kid?” He asked with a smile, started to stand up.
“Uh, I might have…,” she watched him in confusion as he walked away from the living room and further into her apartment. “What are you doing?”
“Getting your laptop!” He yelled from what was most likely her bedroom.
He seemed almost giddy as he started the movie, and scooted over so that she could see the screen properly.
“This story is wrong,” she commented, shaking her head.
“How can it be wrong, it’s fictional,” he said with a laugh, and tried to find a more comfortable position to sit in.
“The story of King Arthur is actually dated further back than the 6th centaury, and he was not a kind and heroic man as told in the medieval stories,” she said, leaning back on the couch, watching as the cartoon version of King Arthur. “It’s actually a Celtic myth.”
“I believe you,” he stated simply, watching the movie with great interest.
“Why wouldn’t you,” she answered, distracted.
“Sch,” he scolded her, and she turned to look at the screen.
--
“Why was he the only one who could pull the sword out of the stone?” She asked as he took out two glasses out of a cupboard.
“Because he was destined to be king,” he explained.
“I still don’t get it.”
“It’s magic, you are not supposed to understand it,” he sat down on the couch again, two glasses in one hand, and in the other a wine bottle had suddenly appeared in the other.
“Hey, where did you get that?” She asked bewildered, looking around to see if there was something else he had dragged out there with him.
“Magic,” he said, with a big smile on his face.
“Why don’t I believe you?” He shrugged, and poured wine.
“You see, this is why you don’t like Christmas, you don’t believe in its magic,” he leaned back on the couch, as if he had a permanent resident.
“Its not so bad,” she defended herself, while taking her own glass.
“It could be better, with a bit of magic.”
“I don’t believe in magic Booth,” she rolled her eyes.
“So you keep on saying.”
--
“Magic can be simple things, like fire,” he said. On the table stood two candles, and to demonstrate this fact, and lit it with a lighter. It was the only light in the room, and it was now it occurred to them that they had been sitting in complete darkness.
“How?” She asked quizzically, looking at the flames as they danced, the shadows long on the walls.
“You believe in science, so think about the first person who learned to control fire, think how that has made it possible for us to live like we do today,” he looked her in the eyes, “that is magic, too.”
“I thought magic was… making things disappear.”
“That too,” he agreed, rolling up his sleeve, revealing an ink tattoo.
“When did you get that?” She asked, leaning forward to grab his wrist in order to look at it more closely.
“When I was nineteen,” he answered, looking at his tattoo himself as if he was remembering a dear memory.
“I like it,” she told him and released his arm. “I wanted to get one myself, but I’ve never found the time,” she revealed, watching the empty wine glasses and wondered if it would be okay to ask for another glass. “I wanted a tiger tattoo.”
“Tiger, I would have tipped for a skeleton,” he joked, and she simply frowned back at him.
“That would be highly disrespectful Booth, considering what I do for a living,” she answered with the frown still etched on her face.
“It’s a joke Bones,” he pointed out, and she eased up on the frown slightly, her eyebrows were still knitted together though.
“Why did you get that tattoo? I’ve heard that some people have a reason for getting a tattoo, and you appear like you are that kind of person,” she paused, hoping that it wouldn’t come out wrong, “who does thing for a reason.” As she finished, he smiled slightly at her. It was strange how their relationship had grown over time, from when they had first met and he mostly disliked her. Now he could not understand who could dislike this woman.
“It’s kind of a long story, Bones,” he said slowly.
“We have the rest of the night,” she pointed out, and he glanced at the clock and a humored smile lit up his face.
“Or morning,” he corrected her, and she shook her head, ready to make sure that she would come out as the person who said it right, but Booth opened his mouth before she could start to protest. “Ok, I’ll tell you.”
It was as simple as that when Dr Temperence Brennan started to enjoy Christmas.