A/N: Natesmama initially asked for something that would tie off a dropped plot thread, but she and I don't always see the same things as dropped. So then she suggested something exploring what happened to Sully, but ...I sort of did that last summer in my challenge fic. And after poking at it for a while, I decided that while I couldn't come up with a completely different Sully story to tell, I liked the idea of continuing to explore what I started for him in those chapters. I think this will make sense on its own, but it assumes familiarity with chapters 20-22 (Obvious, Resign, Switch) of New Memories, New Life. It's also not solely about Sully because this is where my brain went. Hope you like it, Jen. Love you.

Booth pushed his plate to the side and settled back in his chair, eyeing his just refilled coffee cup. With a shrug, he lifted it and drank. Might as well take another hit of the joe - he still had a long assed day in front of him. And while it wasn't quite up to Royal Diner standards, the coffee served by the little hole in the wall just outside Marine Corps Base Quantico was pretty decent.

He'd been drafted by the bureau to co-lead a two week course on cross-agency ops, particularly between the FBI and the DEA. Convenient, since the latter also had its training academy at Quantico.

His co-leader, one Tim Sullivan, sat across from him, smirking. "Getting old, Booth, if you have to think that hard about caffeine at lunch time."

"Age doesn't have anything to do with it." He refused to be baited, but couldn't resist motioning to the other man. "But you've got some gray happening there, Sul."

Comfortable in his skin, Sully only grinned at him. "Neither one of us qualifies as exactly young anymore."

He couldn't argue with that, but then, Booth wasn't sure he'd ever been as young as some of their students.

His mind apparently running along similar lines, Sully shook his head. "How the hell did we wind up here, Booth? Back at the bureau, training the next generation of Federal cops? We both left."

Booth pointed his finger across the table at him. "You're here due to your experience with the DEA in the Caribbean. I'm here because when they drafted you, you suggested me because you knew you'd need someone to save your ass on the hard questions."

"You keep telling yourself that."

"Hell," Booth said more quietly. "We're here because neither one of us can walk away from a need to make things right."

"Hey, I at least managed it longer than you. Had the charter for four years."

"You're sounding a bit wistful there, buddy."

Sully shook his head, picked up his fork to chase a last piece of pie around his plate. "Nah. I just needed the break, needed something else after I lost my partner." He swallowed the pie, then pointed the fork at Booth. "Just like you with...what was his name? Sweets. You lose someone like that, you have to step back, remember why you do it in the first place."

"You think you'd have gone back if you'd not met the DEA agent you talked into marrying you?"

"Yeah, I would have. I was ready. But she makes it easier to stay."

Easier to stay. Booth thought of Brennan and ...yeah. He couldn't seem to do anything else but catch killers, and neither could she. Maybe that's what they did for one another - made it possible to do what they had to do.

"Speaking of Diana," he said, "I thought she was coming with you to DC?"

"That was the plan, but she got caught up in a case. This is the longest we've been apart," he admitted. "I'm ready for it to be over. At least you get to go home to Tempe every night."

Booth looked out at the raw, gray day. February, unable to decide between bitter cold and early spring, had settled on spitting sleet at them. Yeah, he'd be glad to be home in a few hours, everyone tucked up warm and safe. "No arguments. But at least when you go home, it will be to sun and sand."

"True, that. And just in time for Valentine's Day." He winked. "And hey, nothing more romantic than a sunset sail. Don't say it," he warned. "It's a classic for a reason."

Booth lifted his hands. "Can't argue that one."

Sully reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small box. "I also got her this." He popped it open, and whatever Booth had been expecting, it wasn't the small silver lapel pin in the shape of a dragon, complete with emerald eyes. "Diana collects dragons. She's not much into jewelry, really, but she'll like it. I know it's hokey," he said, "but I can't stop thinking about her. Might as well let her know that, right?"

"It's pretty."

"You and Tempe have any plans?"

"For what? Valentine's day? Yeah. Tradition for us - we go to the firing range."

Sully stared at him for a moment, and then started to laugh. "Of course you do."

"Hey. It might not be a 'classic,' but it suits us." He could tell the other man was curious, but he was reluctant to explain something so intimately tied to their complicated courtship. He hadn't been anywhere near ready to acknowledge it, even to himself, but when Brennan had handed him the tommy gun all those years ago, something inside him had eased and started to heal. He glanced at his watch, grateful for the distraction. "It's getting late. We'd better go back and start getting ready for the afternoon session."

Sully's glance was knowing. "Sure thing."

They settled the bill and headed toward the sleet outside, transitioning away from wives and romance and artificial holidays to the exercises they'd lead that afternoon with agents.

But as Booth glanced back to make sure they'd not left anything at the table, he thought again of Sully's little box.

The dragon bothered him.

B&B

The rest of the week went by in a blur. They finished up the class and Sully left, just beating another winter storm that was moving in - February had turned decidedly mean. Max took the kids overnight despite Brennan's protests that they didn't really celebrate Valentine's Day, so the two of them went to the range, then got Thai take out, in celebration of their early meals together.

"Been a while since we've had good Thai, Bones." Booth dropped his empty box on the table, and took a long draw from his beer. They'd considered, briefly, spooning the food onto plates like civilized adults before deciding that half the fun of an evening sans kids was in not being particularly civilized.

Brennan frowned into her vegetarian curry. "I'm not sure why. Many young children don't like spicy food but Christine is quite adventuresome in that sense."

"We'll have to correct that. Can't have her growing up without a knowledge of Thai. Here, try this." He fed her a bite of his black sticky rice.

"Mmm." Brennan took his chopsticks and helped herself to another bite. "Maybe we've been too determined in our rejection of Valentine's Day, Booth. I've quite enjoyed this meal."

"And not a chocolate or greeting card in sight," he said. "But I did see some coconut ice cream in the freezer."

Her eyes narrowed. "It wasn't in there earlier."

"Valentine's Day Fairy dropped it off while we were at the range."

Her lips curved. "You seem to have a lot of fairies at your beck and call. But I'm too full to be tempted by it right now."

"Yeah, me, too." He sat back, his expression becoming more serious. "No cards or chocolate, but there is this." He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small box.

"Booth! We said no gifts." Plainly dismayed, she pulled her hands back in obvious rejection of the box now sitting between them.

"It's not a Valentine's Day gift. Not exactly." At her dubious expression, he said, "It's more of a...'I was thinking of you' token."

"I imagine you think of me often. We're married. And we said no gifts. I have nothing for you," she ended on a frustrated, plaintive note.

"You give me something every day, just by being here, Bones." He nudged the box closer to her. "Take it. Please."

Still disgruntled, she reached for the box, popped it open and then simply stared. "Oh, Booth. They're beautiful." Carefully, she freed one of the earrings and held it up, admiring the silver filigree and the blue green stone. "Cat's eye aquamarine?"

"Got it in one. They remind me of your eyes." He shifted, uncomfortable with the hokey phrase, however true it was.

"They're beautiful." She removed its mate from the box and put them on, settling the ones she'd been wearing all day in the box. "Thank you. But such reminders aren't necessary. I know that you love me."

"I know. Well, I hope you know I know." He paused, wondered how much to say. "It's just that it occurred to me recently that I seldom-"

"You often give me tokens. Just a few days ago, you surprised me with that bouquet of daisies. You said it was to brighten up my office in February."

"Jewelry, Bones," he said quietly. "The only time I've surprised you with jewelry was..." His voice faded.

"When you were gambling."

He met her gaze squarely with his. "Yeah. And while I wouldn't let myself admit it, it was mostly out of guilt, and...thus tainted by what came later. But I've never forgotten how happy you looked when I gave it to you, and how surprised that I'd done it. That stayed with me. So..." he reached over, touched an earring where it dangled. "Because you're everything to me, and I never want you to forget that."

Her eyes moist, Brennan swallowed before pushing away from the table, and motioning for him to stand up. When he did so, she moved into his arms. "I never forget, Booth." She searched his expression. "I love you."

"I'm the luckiest guy on the planet because you do. I just needed to tell you that."

"You did." She kissed him. "Now show me."

On a laugh, he pulled her toward their bedroom. "My pleasure."