Booth was out of the car and around to the driver's side to help Brennan out before the engine even died. Brennan normally didn't have much use for chivalry, but given the height of her heels and the narrow skirt of her dress…
"Thank you." She said, letting him take her hand and help her from the car and close the door behind her.
Booth eyed her shoes. They had very high heels and skinny straps that went around her slender ankles. If ever there were shoes that could drive a man to foot fetish, these were the shoes. Or perhaps it was the feet inside the shoes...Booth shook himself. "Can you walk in those things?" He said, indicating the distance from the remote lot to the building. "It's my fault we were here late. I could drop you at the door and park."
Brennan gave him a gleaming look of amusement that made him feel uncomfortably as if she could read his mind. "I can walk in them." She said. Still, she picked up the skirt of her dress slightly with one hand and hooked her arm through his.
Sweet Mary. Booth thought when her scent hit him. She was wearing some kind of perfume that, quite simply, reached out, wrapped itself around his glands, and squeezed.
"I'm going to start my speech with a humorous anecdote." She announced, oblivious to the mental and physical scramble he was experiencing.
"Oh yeah? Leading in with a joke, huh?" Booth said, recovering with a grin down at her.
"Yes, I thought I'd tell about the chicken plant. Do you mind?" Brennan asked.
"Me? No, I don't mind. Being tarred a feathered is funny stuff." Booth said. "Watch your step there." He pointed to a rough spot in the pavement and gently steered Brennan around it. "You, uh, smell good."
"Angela sprayed something on me today." She replied. "She picked my dress too."
"Angela deserves a medal." Booth said with a slightly less-than-casual grin, looking her over frankly. He was quite certain there was no way she could be wearing a bra.
Brennan gave another of those low, throaty chuckles. Booth's intent eyes caught the slight warming in her cheeks and he pondered it privately and with, he could admit now, hope.
The partners reached the entrance to the museum and two museum interns in rented tuxedos opened the doors for them. They were greeted, at gale force, by Angela Montenegro in a blue sequined flapper-style dress. "See Sweetie? You look fantastic! Didn't I say so?" She said without preamble, enveloping Brennan in a hug. Brennan regained her balance and tucked her hand into Booth's elbow again. Angela swept a very female eye over Booth. "Well! Agent Booth! If I may say so: yum."
Booth, taking up the friendly flirtation he shared with Angela, gave her a cocky grin. "Back atcha, Miss Montenegro." He said suavely, offering his other elbow with an open look of masculine appreciation at her. Angela gave him a gleaming smile and took his elbow. Booth glanced between the two women on his arms and his grin spread. "Lucky son of a gun." He said to them, referring to himself. Both women smirked.
"Did you find our table?" Brennan asked Angela.
"Up there." Angela pointed her clutch to a table at the front of the room, beside a large dance floor and speaker's podium. Hodgins, Sweets, and Daisy Wick were seated there. Daisy was speaking to Hodgins avidly. Hodgins wore a look of incredulity on his face. Sweets appeared to be trying to referee the conversation. "Hm. I'm going to go save Hodgins." Angela said. She let go of Booth and beelined for Hodgins, snatching up his hand with a grin at Daisy and Sweets and hauling him behind her to the bar. Hodgins' naked adoration for Angela showed plainly on his face as he ordered drinks and looked at her with glowing blue eyes.
"Poor Hodgins." Brennan said with a rare flash of sympathy.
"Don't count him out yet, Bones." Booth said with a smirk, watching them. Angela leaned toward Hodgins and laughed at something he said, putting her hand on his chest. "They're in love with each other, they just need to work out the details."
Brennan slid Booth a sidelong glance. "Should we join them?" She asked.
Booth blinked, momentarily reading far too much into her question, before saying. "Yeah, let's grease the social wheels." He said with a smile. They walked over to the bar.
Hodgins saw them first and said. "Hey, guys." With a bright smile.
Booth shook the scientist's hand with a smile. Hodgins looked at Brennan as Booth ordered a short whiskey for himself and a glass of red wine for Brennan without consulting her.
"Hey, Doctor B, looking…hot." Hodgins said with widened eyes and a smirk. Brennan laughed.
"Thanks, Hodgins. You look very handsome tonight." Brennan returned.
"Mm. Men should always wear tuxes." Agreed Angela, looking between Booth and Hodgins with half-lowered eyelids. "Or nothing." She added.
"I," said Hodgins with a grin, "am going to dance with both of you ladies."
"Oh, do you dance, Hodgins?" Brennan asked.
"Nope." Replied Angela with an affectionate look at Hodgins. Hodgins shot her a look of mock outrage.
Brennan laughed. "I would happy to dance with you." She said with a friendly smile.
"I would be happy to dance with Booth, too." Angela said with a grin.
Booth chuckled. "You're on, Ange." He said.
Angela clapped her hands with glee. "A salsa?" She asked.
"If they play one." Booth said, moving his shoulders nonchalantly.
"I get a slow dance." Hodgins said firmly, sending Angela a meaningful glance.
"That's all you can manage, Twinkle-Toes." Angela said teasingly with an expression on her face that belied her words and said she was very much looking forward to a slow dance with Hodgins.
The group's drinks were handed over the bar and all four sought out their table.
Cam had joined Sweets and Daisy and was diplomatically listening to Daisy gush about the decorations and general atmosphere.
"…I mean, we don't get to dress up much so it's so fun to be here." Daisy enthused. "Did you see…oh, hi Doctor Brennan! I can't believe we're at the same table with you!"
"Hello Miss Wick." Brennan said.
"Oh, Agent Booth! You look…wow." Daisy said, her eyes widening. Sweets frowned and put an arm around her.
"Thank, Daisy." Booth said with a polite smile. "You look very nice tonight." He pulled out a chair for Brennan while Hodgins did the same for Angela.
"Oh, thanks!" Daisy said. "I got this dress just for tonight. I told Lance that…"
Brennan interrupted her. "Did you make any progress on the unidentified Caucasian male this afternoon?"
Diverted, Daisy gave a progress report on her findings, displaying her high intelligence and expertise. When she drew to a close, a small man rose to the podium and started the evening's events, inviting Cam up to speak when he concluded.
Booth zoned out, letting his mind wander around the woman seated next to him. He watched her from the corner of his eye, giving in to his imagination in a way he rarely allowed himself to do. Brennan started clapping and jerked him from his thoughts, he joined in the applause as Cam took her seat and Brennan was introduced. Catering staff began bringing out plates.
"Good evening." Brennan said with a smile to the assembled guests, staff, and donors filling the room. "I'm honored and pleased to be asked to address you tonight on the subject of three dimensional imaging. I'm even more pleased that the main course tonight is salmon, because if it were chicken I wouldn't be able to tell you about the chicken man without spoiling your appetites."
A chuckle rolled through the crowd. Brennan, emboldened by the response, continued her speech. The crowd laughed at her description of being 'tarred and feathered' with Booth during the investigation and Brennan skillfully wove in the critical role 3-D imaging played in closing the case.
"...I'll close with this thought: tonight you are being asked to donate to the Archaeology department so they can obtain a 3-D imaging platform like the one we use in our work with the FBI. Without such technology...and perhaps Agent Booth's willingness to sacrifice his tie in the spirit of scientific inquiry…some mysteries cannot be solved. I encourage you to donate generously. Thank you." The crowd applauded as Brennan took her seat and the director of the Archaeology department took her place at the podium, outlining the potential uses of 3-D imaging in his work. Brennan sat down and Booth reached over to squeeze her forearm with an encouraging look.
Soon dessert was served and speeches gave way to music and mingling.
"How did I do?" Brennan asked Booth candidly, knowing he would give an honest response.
"You were great." Booth said with a smile. "Come on, let's dance before Hodgins gets hold of you and breaks all your toes."
"Hey, man, I heard that." Hodgins said without any real rancor. Booth smirked and pulled Brennan to her feet and out onto the dance floor, which had filled quickly.
Pulling Brennan gracefully into his arms, Booth silently thanked his grandfather for insisting both Booth boys learn how to dance. His right palm rested on the transparent fabric covering the small of her back and brought her firmly forward until their bodies nearly touched. Brennan had to tilt her head back to look into his face.
"I have to make sure I greet the board members from the Institute but we don't have to stay too late. I know you've got to work tomorrow." She said.
"Don't worry about it." Booth said. "We'll stay as long as you like. I'm your escort, remember?"
Brennan laughed and relaxed into him, enjoying his strong arms and sure lead as they moved smoothly around the floor.
"Agent Booth?" A harried male voice said behind Booth's back.
"No cutting in." Booth said with a laugh, spinning in his dance steps to face the man who had been acting as M.C. The man looked ashen. Booth gently halted the dance and loosened his grip on Brennan's waist but continuing to clasp her hand as she turned to face the small man with him.
"I…my apologies." The man's eyes were widened anxiously. "I'm Doctor Stringer with…with the Archaeology department. Would you…would you mind coming with me? We have a situation."
Booth glanced quickly at Brennan and they followed the small man from the main ballroom into the small exhibits that had been roped off for the evening.
"There." Dr. Stringer said, pointing to a corner of the exhibit room with a slightly shaky hand.
"Damn." Booth said. "Close all the exits. No one leaves till I say so."
The director of the Archaeology department, who had only minutes before spoken from the podium, lay crumpled against a wall beneath a smear of blood. Dead.