The Party

Her dress shoved her breasts upwards, slimmed her waist, accentuated her perfect hips and showed off her pale arms. It was deep purple and gleamed gold in the light. She politely chatted to hordes of business men who seemed overly interested in what she had to say although their eyes strayed below her mouth. Their eyes glazed over and mouths were slightly open as their roving eyes admired her physique. She was embarrassed and very awkward in this situation. Especially in front of William 'Call me Bill, sweetheart' Taylor.

"Excuse me, Bill?"

"Yes, Sweetheart," he almost licked his lips.

"I feel as though you aren't looking at me or listening, would you rather I did a strip tease since you seem more interested in my body?"

His mouth positively hung open and his bulging eyes, increased heart rate, sweat on upper lip, enlarged pupils and shaking hands all screamed "HELLZ YEAHH" Wow she was getting really good at this reading people's feelings thing!

"Mr. Taylor, I was being sarcastic." Booth once told her that the point of sarcasm was not to not have to explain yourself, but this seemed to be a slow man.

"I, ahaha, Temperance, uh, Doctor Brennan, I did realise, I'm sorry. I-" As he fumbled for something to say obviously having completely missed the sarcastic note she interrupted his painful speech.

"I have more people to meet, it was...pleasant... to meet you." She stated while slipping past him leaving only the smell of roses and heavy sarcasm behind her. Damn, she was getting good. Temperance watched the door as more and more balding, old men entered with their gold-digger wives 'dressed to the T' with their peroxide-blonde hair, Botox-enhanced brows and plunging dresses revealing cleavage, no doubt also enhanced.

Temperance felt sickened at the amount of plastic surgery that surrounded her. She really needed air and a break from the lustful stares thrown her way and the whispered comments behind people's hands, particularly jealous, ageing women.

She slipped outside and pulled out her new cell phone, her editor said that she needed the latest technology so she could be taken seriously by all generations. It was a stupid reason but she took the phone anyway. She dialled Ange's number, it rung five times before going to voicemail.

"Hey, Ange was just hoping you were home, the party is awful, I wanted to talk to you but guess I better go back to the uh, colleagues and professionals inside. Bye, don't worry about calling back."

She realised it sounded a little desperate, but this was a terrible party, not that she ever really enjoyed parties, but this was at the bottom of her least favourite list.

"Excusez-moi, la madame. Je suis désolé de vous tracasser mais vous semblez malheureux." (Excuse me, madam. I'm sorry to bother you but you look unhappy.)

A young man had appeared; he had light brown hair which reflectedt the lights which hung over the trees for the occasion. Temperance raised her head and looked at him. He was definitely polite and good-looking; he looked genuinely interested in her wellbeing. She replied in French also, unsure whether he spoke English but assuming since he chose French he could only speak that.

"Non, Il est bien. Je suis bien, juste un peu fatigué."( No, It is ok. I am ok, just a little tired.) Tired of being ogled more like. This man seemed different to the others and genuinely looked at her face rather than her body. It was refreshing and she relaxed slightly.

"You prefer English? I speak both but French better." He said. His accent was quite beautiful. She smiled.

"I don't mind."

"When in America do as the Americans do, no?" He grinned revealing gleaming white teeth. She smiled in reply.

"So, what do you do?" She realised it sounded vague but she didn't really care at this point.

"My job? I am a businessman in firm called Précis LTD," the French rolled off his tongue. "We deal in instruments for the doctoring profession, ah, the medical field I suppose." She nodded.

"Has taken large market share this year, I am excited at the growth, but please, tell me about yourself."

Suddenly embarrassed, Temperance ducked her head,

"I'm an anthropologist, I deal with...skeletons, identifying people." She knew it was vague but for some reason it seemed embarrassing.

"But I am also an author." Why did she point that out, she sounded so conceited, she mentally slapped herself deciding to quickly change the subject. But the French man did it for her.

"What is your name?"

"Temperance, and yours?"

"Ah, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman, mine is Julian."

"Jove's child."

"I'm sorry?"

"Your name refers to a son of the Roman equivalent of Zeus also called Jupiter, King of the Gods, what he said came true. His word was basically destiny..." she was rambling, she stopped suddenly.

"I'm sorry, I tend to talk a lot and people tell me it is unnecessary..." She said uneasily.

"It is endearing, Temperance, don't worry." She replied with a smile. His eyes were so beautiful, dark green with mysterious gold swirls. She glanced away and when she looked back, for a moment his eyes seemed mocking and malicious. But then it was gone. He smiled reassuringly.

They talked for a long time about everything, their jobs, lives, the stars, countries they had visited. She was charmed by Julian's beautiful speech. She discovered that he had no girlfriend and was 31 years old yet was always accused of being younger. She found they had things in common and he was so easy to talk to. Music could be heard outside on this lonely balcony and he asked the inevitable question.

"Shall we dance?" paired with a disarming smile she couldn't refuse and took his warm, golden hand, he kissed her hand before placing one hand on her shoulder and the other on her waist and moving imperceptibly closer to her. It didn't bother her, his breath smelt like toffee and strawberries. His hair smelt of apples she discovered. The warmth off his body drew her nearer like a fly to the sugary sap within a pitcher plant. They danced in each other's arms for what seemed a long time, she felt beautiful and happy, she felt as though the moment could never end their breath mingled and suddenly his lips caught hers. She tried to pull back, shocked and unhappy with this move their relationship had taken.

He pressed against her ignoring her muffled cries and attempts at pushing him back, he was strong, his warm hands became vices and held her tightly and he swore under his breath in French.

"You think I just want to talk, Temperance? You think I care of your Guatemala experience or your job satisfaction?" He smirked against her lips and his hand trailed down to her breasts. She couldn't breathe and tried to kick at him but failed due to the fact her dress was too constricting.

She gasped out "Stop!" breathlessly between his forced kisses which probed her mouth like the tools of a dentist.

"STOP!" she cried louder but the balcony was deserted from what she could see.

"I think we should leave now, let's go back to my place. I know you want to." Julian laughed and yanked her towards the side of the balcony.

"The shortcut." She noticed a car below with a man standing beside it dressed in black clothing. Julian's hand clamped her mouth shut and he yanked hand cuffs onto her bare wrists.

Temperance Brennan helplessly felt herself lifted up, now gagged, and hanging helplessly over the balcony wall with nothing to cling to but cool, night air.