A/N: Long time no see, But whatever, I hate you anyway.

This is my entry for CBP this month, the idea coming to me as two lines very, very early on Monday morning. I realize most of it has been done until death, but you just be quiet and get into the Christmas spirit. Or Hanukkah spirit. Or…other spirit.


"This is ridiculous."

Resting an elbow on the table and her head on her hand, Temperance Brennan watched the two men opposite her continue their debate. Their twenty-minute-long-and-counting debate.

Next to her, Angela sighed for the fourth time in as many minutes. Her night was going as badly as Brennan's. Self-appointed head of the Mistletoe Police, she'd spent the first half of their three hours stalking through the crowds on Hodgins' arm making sure that if anyone was standing under mistletoe that they hurry up and kiss, already. Even Brennan had laughed when Angela caught Booth and Cullen standing under it together. They hadn't talked again since.

Thinking of Booth again, Brennan scanned the room for him. He was with Cam and some of the other Jeffersonian employees. She felt something that could have been jealousy rise inside her, and looked away. She was drawn into the debate again.

"Dr. Brennan!" Zack's voice was almost hysterical.

"Zack, I told you, I have no opinion on the matter. I prefer to remain neutral in petty arguments."

"But it's not petty! And Hodgins has Angela!" Zack whined.

"You aren't going to win, Z-Man," Hodgins said.

Brennan was saved from having to do anything else when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"I couldn't help but notice you were in trouble, ma'am."

"Booth, can you stick with one nickname at a time, please?" Brennan turned around and set her gaze on the man standing behind her.

"It's not a nickname, Bones. It's a formal way to address you, you should know that."

Brennan rolled her eyes.

"Want to dance?" he asked, and it was said so innocently that Brennan felt something rise in her chest. She couldn't place the feeling, but it made her take the hand that Booth offered, getting up and smoothing down her dress with her free hand.

When they were out of earshot of the rest of the group, Booth looked behind them.

"Still fighting, huh?"

"At the moment I don't think it'll be ending any time soon. They've both got very strong opinions on the matter."

"And what's your opinion?" Booth asked, a grin starting across his face. His gaze flicked to the ceiling and back to Brennan again, but she hadn't noticed, she was too busy formulating what was no doubt a scientific-y answer.

"Well, statistically- no, I'm not falling for that one, Booth."

His grin widened.

They stopped, Booth's hand on Brennan's elbow, and she looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Why did we stop here?" she asked.

His eyes went to the ceiling again, and this time Brennan looked up as well.

"Booth…"

"Now, now, Bones, we don't want Angela to see, or she'll have our heads. Loudly."

Her indignant look didn't falter.

"It's Christmas!"

"And you know that means nothing to me, Booth."

"Fine."

Before she could walk away he pulled her against him, crashing his lips into hers. It was all she could do not to moan and grasp at him. So she pulled away, hitting him on the arm.

"I thought I told you not to do that?"

"You never said anything like that."

"It was implied."

"Whatever, Bones." Booth grinned and let her go, walking, no, swaggering back to where the other squints were still arguing, leaving her there, weak at the knees.

She saw Zack stand, finally fed up.

"Pirates are not better than ninjas!"


Merry Christmas!