Set after 8x10. This was a lot of fun to write.
Chapter Four: Dance Class.
"Where are we going, Bones?" Booth asks for the tenth time in the past hour. It's her turn to plan date night and all she'd told him was to wear comfortable clothes and what time they were leaving. They've been in the car for nearly twenty minutes now and she has yet to disclose any more clues. All he can do is look out the window and try to make an educated guess based on their surroundings, but it's dark out and he doesn't recognise this part of town.
"It's a secret, Booth," she replies, keeping her gaze fixed on the road and the traffic around her.
"But I wanna know," he whines, sounding like a petulant child.
"You'll find out soon enough."
"I'm your partner. You're not supposed to keep secrets from your partner, you know? Sweets is constantly banging on about how communication issues are fatal in a relationship. If you don't want us to break up, you should tell me where we're going."
She risks a glance at him and sees his lower lip jutted out in a pout. Letting out a light laugh, she says, "Obviously I don't want us breaking up, however I don't think keep your surprise to myself for another five minutes will hurt, will it?"
"We're five minutes away?"
"That's what I said, Booth."
The conversation lulls as Brennan's Prius speeds along the road, Booth too busy craning his neck out of the window to look for a restaurant or bar or anything remotely date night appropriate to strike up a conversation. What he doesn't expect is for Brennan to pull into a dimly lit parking lot in front of a community centre. Using her Prius' fancy-schmancy parking assistance, she backs into a spot and kills the engine.
He raises his eyebrows. "This is it?"
"This is it. Now, chop chop, we don't want to be late." She hops out of her side of the car and Booth follows suit, jogging to catch up with her as she heads towards the entrance of the centre.
"What are we doing here, Bones?" He was expecting a romantic three course meal by candlelight with some soft jazz playing in the background, not this. This isn't his idea of a romantic date night. The brick walls are crumbling, the windows are boarded up and tagged in graffiti and there's an overwhelming stench of weed. This is awful. He's never letting her plan date night again.
"You'll see," comes her only response. She opens the door and slips inside, leading him along a hallway painted in a garish lime green. The hallway ends in a large, open studio with hardwood flooring, clean white walls and, at the far end, a huge mirror. It's a total contrast to the rest of this place. It's a dance studio.
"We're dancing?"
"Correction: we're taking a dance class this evening. Surprise, Booth!"
She looks so happy and proud of herself, but he can't help staring at her in bewilderment. "Why do we need to take a dance class, Bones?"
"Well, Booth, since we failed to succeed in our audition for Dance To The Top, I figured we could benefit from some extra practise." She waves over an elderly couple dressed head-to-toe in rhinestones. "Fred and Florence here are going to teach us the rumba."
His eyes sparkle with amusement as their instructors dance towards Booth and Brennan because walking like an normal human being would be boring, apparently. "They're going to teach us how to dance?"
"Yes, that's what I said. Be nice, Booth," she hisses as Fred and Florence come into earshot. They greet Brennan with exaggerated kisses on the cheek, making the ridiculous 'MWAH' sound.
"Just like the French do, darling," Florence says in a nasally voice. Upon seeing Booth up close, her cheeks, already with a heavy sweep of rosy pink blush over them, flush pinker. "Oh my. Aren't you a handsome young thing? And what's your name, darling?"
"Seeley Booth," he responds, stifling laughter as he shares a meaningful look with Brennan.
"Strong name, kid." Fred shakes his hand politely, then wastes no time getting the private class started. "First of all, we're going to split you up. I'll coach the beautiful Temperance and you'll be with Florence, Seeley."
Great, he grumbles internally. If anyone's going to flirt with him all night long, he'd much rather it be the woman he loves than the exuberant sixty five year old in the shimmering dress.
"The rumba is very sexual and passionate dance," Florence begins as Brennan is led over to the other side of the studio. "It's important to be close to your partner's body."
"Oh, uh, right," he murmurs as she tugs him too close for comfort.
"Next we're going to do the basic side step. It goes: slow, quick, quick, slow and quick, quick." As she instructs him, they do the steps and she seems shocked when Booth nails it the first time. "I was under the impression you were not a very skilled dancer."
"Let me guess, Bones – I mean, Temperance – told you she was better than me and I was the one who needed all the help."
"That's exactly what she said."
He blows out a breath and shakes his head. "I used to teach dance when I was in college, Florence. She's the one who has no rhythm and refuses to let me lead. See, look at her now."
Florence glances over her shoulder, her hand covering her mouth when she sees that Booth is right. It looks like her and Fred are having a fist fight, rather than ballroom dancing. "You are right, sweetcheeks. She's dreadful."
Booth purses his lips at the undisguised insult. He wouldn't go that far. "She thinks I'm the reason we didn't progress through the Dance To The Top auditions."
"Oh no, darling, it is definitely because of her. Why did you even audition if you know she can't dance?"
"I'm an FBI agent and she's my partner. We needed to go undercover at this dance competition in order to catch a murderer," he explains.
"You're an FBI agent?" Her hazel eyes light up. "I find that's extremely sexy."
She steps closer to him predatorily and Booth takes a matching step backwards. "Aren't you and Fred together?"
"No, silly. We're just partners. I am very much single and ready to m-in-gle."
Booth cringes, dodging her advances. "Well, I'm not. I'm with Bones – Temperance. We have a baby girl together."
"You do?" Florence visibly deflates.
"Yeah, we're really happy together," he says, smiling softly as he always does when he thinks about his precious family. Brennan. Parker. Christine. His favourite people in the world. "Speaking of, shouldn't we start dancing together now? It's our date night, so that's kind of what we came for."
"Of course, sugar," she replies, quickstepping towards Fred and Brennan. She reminds him of Caroline with all these pet names she keeps using.
"How did it go, Booth?" Brennan questions, strolling over to him.
"She thought I was very talented." He snakes his arm around her waist and kisses the apple of her cheek. Pretending he didn't see her disastrous half of the session, he asks how it went for her.
"Fred didn't seem very impressed by my moves," she says, furrowing her brow. "Which is ludicrous because I was following his instructions to the letter."
He grins. "I'm sure you were, Bones. Guy has no idea what he's talking about."
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, Seeley, and move us on to the next part of the class." He claps his hands together. "Get into your starting positions."
Brennan and Booth stands so they're mere inches apart, their hands resting on each other's shoulders and their other hands entwined, so they're in the traditional hold. Florence orders them to do the side step they'd just practised, so they do. Slow, quick, quick. Slow, quick, quick.
"Good," Florence says, pleased that Brennan seems to be moving more comfortably with Booth than Fred. "Although your hips could use a little work, Seeley."
His mouth drops open as he swears she brushes her hands over his gluteus muscles before landing on his hips and swivelling them in the correct motion. She keeps her hands in the same position as she tells Booth and Brennan to go again and gives his ass a little congratulatory squeeze when they get it right.
"You're improving already. Now, we're going to demonstrate a pretty basic routine and then you'll do the same, OK, darlings? Watch closely."
Fred switches on some sultry rumba music and takes Florence in his arms. They begin side-stepping, swivelling their hips and twirling like absolute pros (which Booth supposes they are). Booth's eyes are wide as he watches Fred dip Florence dramatically, somehow without dropping her to the floor. "Are we sure these are the easy moves?" He whispers in Brennan's ear.
"This does look complex, even for an excellent dancer like myself."
"Wanna make an excuse about how our babysitter has a family emergency and we need to go home?"
Her lips quirk devilishly. "I love that idea." Raising the volume of her voice, she announces to Fred and Florence that they have to leave to take care of their daughter, even though she's staying with Max until tomorrow morning (but they don't need to know that).
Their instructors either don't hear them or they just don't care as their fiery dance continues without pause. Meanwhile, Booth and Brennan get the hell out of there.
As they walk along the corridor, Brennan's thoughts drift back to Dance To The Top. More precisely, to her favourite memory of the undercover excursion with the infamous Buck and Wanda Moosejaw. She stops Booth with a hand to his forearm. "Do you remember the last time we danced together? We made out in the janitor's closet."
A smile spreads across his face. "'Course I remember, Bones. It was hot. Both the room and the making out with you."
"I said it felt like high school in there and you told me that the backseat of the car was more your thing," she continues with a clear destination in mind.
"Why are you telling me this, Bones? I'm not likely to forget any time soon."
"I find dancing the rumba very sexually stimulating, Booth, and I would very much enjoy testing out the backseat of my car with you."
He smirks, his eyes darkening. "That sounds awesome, Bones. Let's do that." He grabs her hand and starts running out of the community centre, pulling her along behind him. She laughs delightedly, only stopping when he crashes his lips against hers, pressing her against the side of the car. She somehow manages to reach for her keys in her bag and unlock the car door. They separate just long enough for Booth to open the door and for them to both get inside. Then, once comfortable, they resume making out like teenagers all over again.
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