A/N: We wouldn't forget about the holiday stories we love so much. Silly people. Some FAQs for you:

Q: Why the eff haven't you updated in so long? I was about ready to eat my own arm off if I didn't get some holiday goodness soon!

A: Yes, very, very sorry about that. We had planned on having it done sooner. But then, drama occurred. Our very own Miss K to the J got in a car wreck. She's just fine, but the whole experience traumatized her so much that she couldn't write for days. That and dealing with all the sucky car-repair stuff that takes a lot of time. Pretty much the only thing that will help her recover is lots and lots of reviews for this chap. Please keep that in mind.

Q: What is this Hot Seat Game? Is it for real?

A: Why yes! Yes, it is! It's called Hot Seat: The Ultimate Get-to-Know-You Game. Now, neither of us actually owns this game, so we took some creative liberties with the questions. But, one of us has played the game at a party, and it was super-fun. She got to tell her friend's husband that she liked his booty. Good times

That about does it! Please forward anything other questions, comments, and super-fabulous reviews to Nekkid Booth Inc.! (aka Jamie & Kinsey)

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Somehow she'd lucked out. Several people had taken their turns in the hot seat and she'd yet to be one of them. Brennan knew the probability was getting higher every time someone else took a turn. After Booth had stammered out an explanation to his answer about her being a model for a popular lingerie line, and Jack had commented on Zack's hypothetical breasts being his best physical asset, Angela had confessed that the craziest place she'd ever had sex was in the audience at a talk-show taping. Jack had bristled (apparently said sex hadn't been with him) and made a drunken vow to spend the rest of his life making love to her in the most insane places he could think of. Ange had leaned across the circle and given him a placating kiss, assuring him that crazy sex wasn't always the best sex. Booth had cut in right before it had turned into a full-fledged make-out and urged Angela to roll the die. Three dots had turned up and Kate, a 25-year-old intern Brennan knew to be a flirt had been asked what fruit the person on her right would have been. Kate had glanced to the person to her right and blushed at Booth's winsome grin.

"A, uh, a banana."

"Why?" Angela had asked, amid the snickers and giggles from the other participants in the game.

"Um, because a banana is firm, and upright, and uh, I don't know," Kate had stammered and rolled the die to deflect the unwanted attention, but not before Booth had given her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Brennan smiled inwardly, swelling with an archaic surge of pride at the fact that other women noticed her partner's attractiveness, and were no less immune to it than she was. This was followed shortly by the same strange desire to slap a "property of Temperance Brennan, PhD." sticker on his ass that she had gotten when Rebecca had been at the house on Christmas Day.

The die clicked softly against the dark walnut floor, a square of four dots appearing. Oh, God. It was here. It was her turn. Angela looked at her expectantly and motioned to the pile of cards. "Pick one, sweetie," she urged. Brennan licked her lips and tentatively drew a card from the top of the pile. She cleared her throat and began to read.

"What was the most memorable date you've ever been on, and what was one memorable characteristic about the person you were with?"

Everyone stared at her expectantly. Normally she would have tried to think about every date she'd been on in her life, all the boys and then men who had taken her out, where they'd gone, what they'd done, and what had made each date and each man memorable. In this case, with everyone's eyes on her, she didn't have that luxury. So she just started talking.

"Um, it was actually a parade. Actually, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade to be more specific. And, um, I hadn't ever gone to the parade, and the guy I was with, he," she smiled softly, remembering how Booth had dragged her out of bed so very early, "he made me stand in the freezing cold, a good five hours before the parade started." The small crowd chuckled appropriately, and she felt an inner surge of pride at her ability to crack a sarcastic remark and make people laugh. She smiled again at the memory and continued. "We met this older couple, Stella and Dante, and they just, I don't know why, but they just assumed we were married, and we let them keep assuming," she blushed.

"Bren! You let someone think you were married! I'm shocked! What happened next?" Angela asked excitedly.

"We watched the parade, and then we went to breakfast and for a walk in Central Park. And then we went back to my hotel room," she paused for the customary round of whistles and catcalls. "And we fell asleep watching a movie," she stressed, "and then, when we woke up, he kissed me," she smiled again, her blue eyes twinkling.

"So what was one memorable characteristic about him?" Kate asked enthusiastically, apparently on the edge of her seat just as much as Angela.

"Hmmm… to be honest, it's kind of hard to just pick one. He's very kind, and thoughtful…cute." She grinned. "I guess the most important thing to me is that no matter what we're doing, or where we are, he always makes me feel so comfortable. Like… when you're a kid, and you come home from a rough day at school, full of tests and mean kids and gross food in the cafeteria, and your mom's there with a big smile and a hug, and you feel like as long as she's there, nothing can go wrong. It's just that safe feeling. Like…coming home."

Brennan glanced up, blushing. She looked around the room at the other party goers, some she knew well and some with whom she only shared a nodding acquaintance. What was it about this game that seemed to give everyone a dose of some sort of "truth serum"? It was like once she started talking, and recounting the details of her time in New York with Booth, she was unable to filter herself. She had always been one to give her honest opinion, but she sure as hell didn't open up to random strangers about her personal life. She cleared her throat, hoping it would wipe the shocked expressions off their faces – apparently none of them could believe Dr. Brennan could be so sentimental. Did people really think she was that cold? "Who's next?" she asked, tossing the die against the ground. It stopped rolling and she looked up, counting in her head. "Looks like you're up again, Zack."

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Despite the embarrassment of his Freudian slips when it was his turn, Booth enjoyed hearing others' thoughts and dirty little secrets. Who knew that the squints were so…adventurous? The more they drank, the more every question seemed sexualized, and the more difficult it became to tear his eyes away from his pretty partner across the room. She seemed more relaxed than he had anticipated in this public setting, and it pleased him. He very, very much enjoyed their private time together, getting to know one another over dinners at the kitchen counter and mornings lounging in bed. But being with other people—watching her awkward charm as she interacted with strangers and her witty brilliance with her friends—had its benefits, too. He wondered how long it would be before he slipped and put his arm around her, or called her 'beautiful,' or made reference to the fact that they had been spending more than just professional time together. It was becoming harder by the second.

To his immense surprise, it was she who made that first reference, albeit a veiled one. The lucky scientist had been passed over by the die several times, frustrating him with her ability to avoid the humiliation that he and the others had suffered. But when her turn came and he heard her question, he immediately regretted wishing it on her. Her best date? He steeled himself. "Remember, Seeley, you've only been really together for about a week. Whatever toolbox that went out of his way to impress her in the date she talks about…he's in the past. No need to get ready to punch someone in the face. She's your girlfriend now, even if no one knows it. He was still preparing to comfort himself with these thoughts when she began speaking.

"Um, it was actually a parade. Actually, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade…"

The parade? The toolbox had taken her to the parade? But she had told him she had never been….ooooooh. He was the toolbox. His confusion and anxiety waned, and was replaced with pride and delight at her openness.

"And we fell asleep watching a movie, and then, when we woke up…he kissed me."

Yes. He remembered. Being able to look into her eyes for the first time as he drew his face closer to her and touched his lips to hers, knowing unequivocally that this was the person he was supposed to be kissing here and now. She was right. It was the best date. Hers, and his, and maybe in the entire history of the universe. He couldn't have planned a better date than the one that unfolded naturally on Thanksgiving Day.

He listened rapt as she described, somewhat shyly but also poetically, what made the man she was with on that date so special. Her words were like music to him. Wasn't that his goal, nearly since the day they had become partners? To make her feel safe, warm, and protected? Somehow, all the achievements that he had racked up in his lifetime seemed to pale in comparison to this one. The two best compliments that he had ever received were that he was a good father, and that he was Bones' home. Glowing warmly, he couldn't distinguish between the good feelings and the effects of the alcohol.

He tried to catch his partner's eye to give her a reassuring look, to let him know that he appreciated what she said and was on the same page. But she had obviously been thrown by her own openness, and was anxious to move on with the game.

It was okay. This was foreign territory for her, and it would take awhile to explore it. The game ending, he grinned as he watched her scurry to the kitchen with Angela, recovering from her episode of public intimacy. He'd help her. But he couldn't help hoping just a little that she'd be open to more exploration later in the night.

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"Sweetie, you don't have to help with this. I can get it," Angela admonished Brennan gently, coming up behind her in the spacious kitchen. The party had died down a little and Brennan had taken the opportunity to cool off in the kitchen for a moment. She had to escape the smoldering stares she kept getting from her partner while everyone answered the often sexually-charged questions of the hot seat game. She'd left Booth chatting with Jack about the upcoming playoffs and which team was going to take the Superbowl, and she'd sought refuge amid the pile of dirty dishes. Might as well be productive.

"It's not a big deal, Ange," Brennan smiled at her friend, up to her elbows in soapy suds, plates and cups piled beside the stainless steel sink.

"Well at least let me help," Angela grinned and picked up a dish towel to start drying. "Kinda into this domestic thing, aren't you?"

Brennan blanched momentarily. "What would make you say that?"

"I'm just teasing, Bren. But don't you think for a second I don't know exactly what's going on between you and Booth."

Brennan paled again. "You know? How do you know?"

Angela grinned mischievously. "You just told me, sweetie."

This time Brennan's cheeks went red instead of white. "Thanks a lot, Angela."

"Oh, c'mon, Bren. I'm kidding. Seriously, he's been undressing you with his eyeballs all night long. Not that he hasn't done that before, but he was at least subtle about it back in the day." Brennan looked half-flattered and half-mortified. "Don't feel bad Sweetie. I'm sure Booth is getting a rash of crap from Jack as we speak," Angela grinned, and then winked conspiratorially. "So. What is going on with you and the FB eye-candy?"

"I thought you knew," Brennan replied drolly.

"Touche, my friend. Now dish."

Brennan laughed and pulled the plug from the sink, having finished cleaning the stack of dishes. She picked up another towel to help Angela dry as she contemplated how to explain what exactly she was doing with the FB eye-candy.

"Well… I guess… we're together," she stressed. "I don't know, Ange. If it was 8th grade he'd be my boyfriend," she grinned slyly.

"But it's not 8th grade so you guys are lovers," Angela grinned brightly and nudged Brennan with her shoulder. "Looooooooooooverrrrrrrrr-" Angela stopped her sing-songing abruptly as Booth poked his head in the kitchen.

"Countdown starts in a minute, ladies," he told them, tossing a slightly-drunk grin at Brennan. "And I'm sure as hell not kissing Jack at midnight."

"Be right there," Brennan smiled softly. Booth grinned again and turned on his heel, leaving the two friends alone in the kitchen again.

"Oh my God, Bren."

"What?"

"It was Booth. The best date you ever had was Booth!"

Brennan blushed. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything! Especially if it's juicy!"

"I think Booth just might be the best everything I've ever had."

Brennan slung her towel through the handle on the refrigerator, turning to leave the kitchen, only glancing over her shoulder once to see Angela's ecstatic smile.

When she made it back to the parlor, Booth was already there, immersed back in his conversation with Jack – apparently they were having a difficult time deciding who the greatest quarterback of all time was.

"I'm tellin' you, man, Joe Montana could run circles around Peyton Manning and Tony Romo both," Booth said adamantly.

"Dude, I respect your old-school mentality. Montana was one of the greatest Q.B.s ever to live. But not the greatest. That honor totally belongs to Manning or Romo."

Brennan hung back for a moment, taking in the scene in front of her, until Booth waived her over. "Bones, tell Hodgins he's full of shit."

Brennan laughed. "I'm going to respectfully decline, since I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

Booth grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist. He gave Hodgins a pointed look and said, "See that? She says you're full of shit."

"Boys," Angela jumped in, waving a hand between the two grown men. "No blood on the carpet. Especially not over something like football. Besides, babe. Booth has a point. Ever since Tony Romo took up with Jessica Simpson, the man cannot play a decent game of football."

Brennan and Hodgins both stared at her, mouths agape. "See man? Even your girl thinks you're full of shit!" Booth hooted.

Jack's slightly blood-shot eyes twinkled. "She used girl logic. Doesn't count." The other couple laughed even as Brennan gave Jack an irritated look, and Angela pressed a kiss to Jack's cheek and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Everybody! It's time!" Kate announced. She had become increasingly flirty the drunker she got and was now sprawled across Lou's lap, barely breaking their kiss to let the other partygoers know they should start counting.

Brennan grasped the hand that Booth had rested lightly on her hip, lacing their fingers together as the small group counted down the last ten seconds of the year.

"10…9…8…7…6…5…" When she got to the last five seconds, she glanced up at her partner, thinking of how far they'd come in the short amount of time they'd been together. Technically, it had only been "official" since Christmas, but really, she hadn't been able to get the sexy cowboy out of her mind since Halloween. So had they been together since then? Or really, would it be even longer than that? She'd felt something for him probably since shortly after the first time she laid eyes on him. It was purely physical of course, because there was no such thing as love at first sight… and really, she didn't even know how to define what she felt for Booth now, but she was pretty sure this was the closest thing she'd felt to love in a long, long time.

Booth's voice broke into her thoughts, his husky baritone counting down. "4…3…2…1. Happy New Year, Bones," he whispered, just as he touched his lips to hers. As always, her whole body warmed when he kissed her and she was lost in the heady sensation of his lips on hers. Why hadn't she done this the first time she met him? He tugged gently on her hand and wrapped it up around his own neck, turning her slightly in his arms. He swept the inside of her mouth with his tongue and pressed his thigh gently between her legs, the pressure nearly making her cave to the urge to drag him upstairs and have her way with him. The kiss went on for what seemed like a thousand steamboats, each one of them chugging by at a snail's pace. She'd never get enough of kissing Seeley Booth. She pulled back and placed another quick, gentle kiss on his lips, knowing if she let it go on much longer they were going to have a lot of explaining to do.

"Happy New Year, Seeley," she smiled, reaching up to wipe the faint trace of her lip gloss off of his mouth. He pulled her to him in a tight hug and kissed the top of her forehead before clearing his throat.

"What?" he asked defensively.

Brennan turned to see what would make him ask that, and blushed to discover the eyes of each party guest locked solely on her and her partner. She cleared her own throat and grinned, ducking her head a little. "Happy New Year, everyone."

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For a squint, Jack Hodgins actually threw a pretty good party, Booth thought, swilling another Yuengling Lager from the bottle in his hand. Seeley Booth had some amazing women in his life, for sure, but sometimes a man just needed to talk shit with another guy about the Superbowl. So that's what he did, talking like he even gave a fuck considering that none of his teams had a chance in hell of going this year. Well, couldn't win every year. Still, he was surprised that Hodgins generated as much enthusiasm as he did, considering that the Superbowl was played by actual human beings and not insects. He lost track of time for a few minutes, then felt like something was missing. Looking around, he saw Zack in the corner talking to some other young squints having a serious discussion about whether a scientist without a dentistry background could become a skilled forensic odontologist. Very festive, guys, he thought dryly. Another glance found his friend who had compared him to a banana, Kate, getting increasingly cozy with Lou. Kid didn't deserve that much action after the disgusting implication he had made about Bones and Addy.

"Where did our girls get to?" Booth mused to Jack. "Not like them to get lost in the kitchen."

"Our girls, huh?" Jack replied slyly before chugging his beer again.

"You know what I mean," Booth mumbled.

"Well, you know Dr. Brennan. She's probably back there trying on lingerie for her new catalogue. Or maybe she got lost looking for you in her quest to repopulate the Earth."

"Shut up," he snapped while Hodgins chortled, nearly spitting out his beer.

"Seriously, man," he wheezed, pulling himself together again. "Not to be a girl. But you've got to clue me in here. What's the deal with you and the good doctor?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Give me a break, dude, I thought we were buddies." Booth kept his mouth firmly shut in the face of Jack's wheedling. "Well, fine, then. If nothing is going on, then you won't mind me giving her a little smooch at midnight. Since it would be so unprofessional for the two of you, and I'm sure that Angie won't mind my just making sure Brennan doesn't feel left out…"

"You want to kiss my fist, too?" Booth interrupted instinctively, only half-kidding, earning another snort from Jack. Apparently the guy couldn't read his "menacing" look when he was three sheets to the wind.

"For real. I'm happy for you."

He shook his head at his incorrigible friend, and headed for the kitchen to find Bones. Midnight was quickly approaching, and he didn't want to be stuck out here by himself with a bunch of horny squints. Well, at least not without his horny squint. Opening the kitchen door, he found his partner being poked in the shoulder repeatedly by a prancing, singing Angela. Poor kid.

"Countdown starts in a minute, ladies. And I'm sure as hell not kissing Jack at midnight," he added. Not to mention that Jack's lips better be planted firmly on his own gorgeous girlfriend, and not on Booth's. It was a lot of details to keep track of.

"Be right there," Bones said, with a little wink that was full of promise. Feeling better, Booth smiled back and went back to the party.

Luckily, Hodgins had lost track of what they had been talking about in his tipsy haze and began talking some kind of garbage about Tony Romo being the best quarterback in history. In his own tipsy haze, he was easily goaded into that particular debate. They picked at each other for awhile, and Booth found himself wondering where the hell all the men were in the room. Spotting Bones coming back in, he called to her for support. She claimed ignorance about the topic, and he made a mental note to get her as caught up on football as she was on football movies. Gazing up at her, he found himself adoring her despite her lack of sports knowledge, and he couldn't resist putting his arms around her waist and giving her a squeeze. If their nosy friends noticed, they were either polite enough or too drunk to say anything.

"Everybody! It's time!" a voice announced. Booth briefly wished that he had allowed himself some extra time to reflect back on what a remarkable year it had been, in so many ways. As it was he only had ten seconds…then nine…then eight…

His thoughts were broken by the excited clasp of his partner's hand on his own, and her sparkling crystal gaze on him, a little nervous, a little anticipatory, and if she thought for a nanosecond that he was going to be able to resist her sweet, full lips right now, she was sorely mistaken. Everyone else would be too busy and drunk to even notice, he reasoned. The ball fell. People cheered. He didn't notice. "Happy New Year, Bones," he whispered. It was the moment he had been waiting for all night, and everybody else be damned, he was going to take it. He kissed her gently, felt her initial hesitancy and her growing pliancy. Encouraging it, he lifted her hand and placed it at the back of his neck…I'm yours. Thrilled when her fingers curled into his hair, he tried his luck further, pressing their bodies together. Her breathy sigh against his mouth was his reward. The longer the kiss, the luckier the New Year, right? Surely that was a rule. Somewhere. When she finally pulled away from her, he gave her up hesitantly, but willingly. After all, they wouldn't want to draw attention…

"Happy New Year, Seeley," she whispered in reply, allowing herself to melt into his arms as he hugged her. Their eye contact broken, his kiss-cloudy gaze fell over her shoulder…straight into the faces of their spellbound spectators. Every single freaking person at the party. Well jeez. Hadn't they ever seen a guy kiss his girlfriend before?

"What?" he asked, a little disgruntled. He saw Jack's shoulders quivering with repressed laughter. He sighed, his annoyance turning to sheepishness. He quickly looked at his partner, and was relieved when she looked more amused than mortified.

"Happy New Year, everyone."

He had almost expected a round of applause, but after the initial interest in the kiss that apparently had gone on much longer than they had thought (Angela later informed them that they had been 'going at it' for almost five whole minutes, which Booth thought indicated more restraint than a lack thereof), the partygoers began to converse again, abandoning their drinks and their noisemakers, showing some of the fatigue of having worked all day and partying and drinking most of the night. Angela came over to give both of them hugs and Jack shook their hands (putting up surrendering hands at Booth's warning look when he moved in to kiss Brennan's cheek). Kate the intern was looking slightly wobbly, so Lou and Angela took her arms to help her up to her guest quarters. As she passed Booth, she smiled at him drunkenly. "I changed my mind," she slurred drunkenly. "More of a passionfruit." She then giggled uncontrollably as she was led up the stairs. He and Brennan raised their eyebrows at one another.

"I actually think she got it right the first time with the banana," Brennan informed him with a sly look. The little minx. He grinned and leaned in to kiss her forehead.

Jack appeared behind them. "You guys are up the stairs, far bedroom on the right, next to the bathroom. Thought you probably wouldn't want to share walls with anyone else."

Dear Lord, not this again. "Jack, c'mon man, it's not like that…" he tried, stammering.

"Yes it is," Brennan interrupted him. Booth looked at her with his mouth open. "Thanks, Jack. It was a great time. We'll see you in the morning." Then she took Booth's hand and nearly pulled him up the stairs, not looking back into they arrived in the guest suite, looking hotel-worthy with its king sized bed. He was still staring at her.

"What?" she asked innocently. As innocent as one could look while she stripped out of her low-cut sparkly tank-top.

He shook his head. "You blow me away. Every day."

"What a coincidence. That was one of my resolutions."

"Most people take all year to reach their resolution goal. You took all of five minutes.

"Yeah. I'm pretty good. Hey, Booth. What's my most attractive physical feature?" She struck a pose for him.

He grinned. "It's a toss-up between your face and your body."

"Huh. What kind of fruit would I be, if I were a fruit?"

"The kind I want to eat every day," he swore, while pinning her, laughing, to the bed.

"Interesting. Hey Booth? What was your best date?"

"My best date," he repeated in between kisses to the column of her throat. "Well, there was this one at a parade…" She grinned. "But that one wasn't the very best."

Her giggles died down, and she sounded a little disappointed. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah. There was this other one, at a party…when the woman I'm crazy about let everyone know that we were together. And then I took her upstairs and made mad, passionate love to her all night long."

Her huge smile returned. "I'm pretty sure at least part of that hasn't happened yet," she admonished, teasing.

"What a coincidence. It's one of my resolutions."

And then, with a kiss, there was no more talking for a long while, as each of them took turns making one another's New Year's resolutions come true.

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A/N: Next up: Happy Holidays: Super Bowl Edition! FAQs:

Q: Are you kidding?

A: No. We're not kidding.

Loves!