Cullen

A/N: Very belatedly, this is the last chapter of my summer challenge story. Embarrassingly, just in time for Halloween, so it's doubling as a slightly spooky holiday tale.

Having filled his favorite coffee mug from Brennan's most recent birthday gift, Booth flipped the switch to awaken his computer and check emails before a Monday morning huddle with his agents. His wife had purchased a Keurig for his office credenza and kept it stocked with his favorite Folgers pods. She tried to interest him in the kopi luwak she liked, but Booth stuck with the same brew Pops had first introduced him to one early morning when Grams' hot cocoa no longer stirred him awake for his teen-age Philly paper route.

Skimming through routine FBI inter-office memos, the senior agent spotted a sender's name that surprised him. He hadn't received an email from Sam Cullen since his boss's retirement several years earlier. The two men crossed paths and had lunch occasionally, but email wasn't really Sam's style. Reading the message, Booth grinned to himself. This invitation was really Julia Cullen's doing. Sam's wife was an accomplished technical writer for Hewlett-Packard, served on the Alexandria Library Trust board of directors, and was far more IT-savvy than her distinguished husband. Sam Cullen would have just picked up the phone.

Booth and Brennan were invited to an annual Halloween Scare-A-Thon Carnival which helped fund the Cullen's charity. Sam had gotten the idea from the small carnival Booth had once quietly stages for pediatric patients being treated for neuroblastoma at GWU Hospital, which was now an annual event. Patrons sponsored booths each year, volunteered ahead of and during the event, and even donned costumes to interact with the District children who came without fail, dragging their parents to this popular D.C. 'spook-tacular' happening.

After Amy's untimely death from a cancer-riddled bone graft, her heart-broken parents had turned their grief into resounding good, by establishing an art scholarship foundation in her memory. Amy's Art-Reach provided a yearly six-week summer stipend for a student to visit and study at the Louvre. The candidates were chosen from among students at four D.C. area universities which excelled in art education: George Washington, Howard, Gallaudet, and UMd-College Park. Recalling the virtual Louvre tour Angela Montenegro had provided for their daughter, the Cullens had asked her to serve on their selection committee each year. Sam and Julia had specifically chosen four diverse local institutions to serve the broadest possible pool of art students, including a private, an historically-black, a deaf, and a public university in its spectrum.

Booth's annual contribution was staggering around the carnival site wearing the mask he'd once used to surprise Brennan while lying on a gurney covered with a sheet. He'd step out from behind a stack of hay bales, amid guttural moans which startled the costumed children nearby. Brennan reprised her gelatin eyeballs and brains from Christine's class Halloween party, while Hank and Christine delighted in helping in the game gallery. Even Parker got into the act as an amateur ventriloquist when he was in town.

The Scare-A-Thon raised an impressive amount of money each year. Besides the Louvre stipend, Amy's Art-Reach gave six one-year scholarships to local junior college fine arts students, and sponsored a high school art contest to select the recipients. Angela helped judge the blind submissions each year, along with a panel of community art teachers. There were creative writing and visual arts categories, so that three winning students in each discipline received $2,000 tuition assistance per year.

Since Amy had been an aficionado of Disney's animated movies, most especially The Little Mermaid, Julia included a Disney Princess Parade in the Scare-A-Thon's events. Children were invited to dress up as a hero, heroine, princess, or other Disney character. Naturally no costumed kiddo was turned away and the little merry-makers received bags of raisins, gum and candy at the parade's endpoint. Most popular were the bean bag toss and miniature train which wound its way through the festive carnival site.

Sam had acted in amateur theater productions whenever time in college or his career permitted, and enjoyed reading Dickens' A Christmas Carol to Sunday School children for years, so he manned a booth reading spooky stories aloud to children and parents. Little Orphan Annie, Goofy's Halloween Adventure, The Berenstain Bears, Mercer Mayer's Little Critter, and other kid-friendly tales were part of his repertoire. The variety of voices he could impersonate surprised his listeners each year.

The Scare-A-Thon was held in the parking lot of the Alexandria Public Library, side-stepping the need for rental fees, and the high schooler library aides volunteered for service hours as well, further increasing the money raised for scholarships. If interested in pursuing a fine arts degree, the aides were given priority for one of the six annual community college academic awards. In the five years since Amy's death, four student library aides had earned these foundation tuitions stipends.

Years of financial wrangling to finagle vitally necessary expenditures out of lean conservative budgets at their respective employers had taught both Sam and Julia how to squeeze, stretch and shoe-spoon their money's worth within their Foundation's funding constraints to assist as many promising artistic scholars as possible. As a result, Amy's Art-Reach was consistently well-rated by Charity Navigator for responsible financial stewardship each year. Its popularity as a worthy cause rose each year among the District's bureaucrats and politicians, consistently increasing contributions to the pool of money the Cullens could award.

When Booth arrived at the Lab to pull Brennan away for lunch, the first thing she mentioned to him was the email Julia had sent her that morning. Knowing the scientist's many charitable endeavors, Mrs. Cullen was requesting her help evaluating several new scholarship ideas and selecting a new avenue for encouraging their recipients' academic excellence. Brennan's active brain was already brimming with thoughts and reactions, which burbled out like an exuberant fountain of words. Booth grinned with pride at his wife's interest and dedication to helping students pursue their education. Having experienced privation herself to get through Northwestern University, Temperance Brennan was keen to facilitate and smooth others' quest for knowledge.

Pouring their efforts into making college possible for youngsters as interested in art as their Amy had been eased the ever-present ache of grief which Sam and Julia could never quite escape. The future without her would never be the same, but their Foundation gave time some meaning for them again. Booth had watched his vigorous boss recapture some of his spark and spirit as Amy's Art-Reach blossomed into reality.

Angela had no idea what that virtual Louvre tour she created for Amy in a hospital room would inspire, but she was one of the Foundation's most avid spokespersons in public service radio ads broadcast along the Eastern seaboard. Three years after its inception, Amy's Art-Reach won its first Exceptional rating from Charity Navigator, and thereafter maintained that standing consistently. Brennan still didn't believe in an afterlife, yet a tiny part of her brain smiled at the idea of Amy Cullen's proud approval of her parents' earnest efforts somewhere in the Universe.