Title: Dance
Rating: K+
Word Count: 398
Spoilers: Season 2 finale, kind of
Disclaimer: Obviously not mine.
A/N: I was watching Gilmore Girls the other night, and you can thank another amazing show for the inspiration behind this one. Props to any who catch the reference. And, as always, thanks for the lovely reviews. Keep them coming!
"Finally," she mutters to no one in particular.
One alcoholic bachelorette party and three years after the first Hodgins-Montenegro nuptials gone wild, they have officially tied the knot.
The wedding had gone off without a hitch, and it is nice to see her best friend so happy. It is also nice to sit down – her feet ache after standing as maid of honor for the ceremony. Relaxing into her chair, she sighs and closes her eyes for a moment, discreetly slipping off her painful high heels. When she opens them again, Booth is grinning down at her, two glasses of red wine in his hands. She can't keep an answering smile from blooming on her own face.
"Is this seat taken?" Booth teases, passing her a glass.
"Only by you," she says, nudging his knee with hers as he lowered himself beside her. "Thanks for the wine."
"Anytime, Bones."
They fall into a comfortable silence, watching their friends. Angela and Jack are sharing their first dance, to a song she's never heard of, and despite her misgivings about the ancient ritual that is marriage, she feels a tickle of jealousy for their security. "They look happy," she states slowly, eyes following the joyful couple.
"They are happy, Bones. They just got married." She's always been amazed at Booth's patience with her, and she shakes her head, hiding a rueful smirk.
She finishes her glass of wine just as the band leader announces, "And now, if you're in love… please join the newlyweds on the dance floor!"
Her heart skips a beat at that word, love, but the anthropologist in her wins. Turning to Booth, she questions, "Why do you have to be in love to join them?"
He is looking at her. "Dance with me?" His voice is hesitant, but the hand that finds hers is strong and warm.
"What?" she mumbles, looking at their tangled fingers, the play of her pale skin against his darker complexion, to avoid his gaze.
"Bones."
A beat. She blinks, inhales.
"Fine, okay, I'll dance with you. Stop pestering me." She hadn't meant to blurt out such a disgruntled reply, but her mind is whirling.
Does that mean that he loves her? And because she'd agreed…
Oh, God.
But he smiles, tugging her to her feet, and it takes her two-and-a-half songs to realize that she's left her shoes beneath the table.