A/N Hello and welcome! I want to thank you all again for your patience while this next chapter was written and re-written before I could edit it to make sense! I appreciate you all so much!

I also want to say Merry Christmas to those of you out there celebrating today. I wish a very Happy Holiday Season to everyone, regardless of what holiday you celebrate, and a Very Happy 2017! I hope everyone has a wonderful wrap-up of 2016 and a great new year!

Disclaimer: Really? By now I think it's pretty clear I don't own these characters…. But this story is constantly developing in the recesses of JazzyMuse's imagination!

The partners rested atop the bedspread as their bodies cooled and their breathing slowly returned to normal. Brennan's hand trailed up and down Booth's torso lazily while his fingers made nonsensical designs along the soft curve of her hip. Pressing a kiss into her silky hair, Booth groaned in disapproval as the alarm on his watch rang.

"What's that?" Brennan's brow wrinkled, not at all happy with having their relaxation interrupted.

"Reception starts in an hour and fifteen," he grinned at her grumpy demeanor, enjoying the fact that he was learning a little more about her with every passing moment.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, pushing up to her elbows and glaring up at him. "Do we have to attend?"

"Hey," he laughed out loud at her childish pout, "I don't like themed parties any more than you do…" He knuckled her chin and pulled her closer, plucking her lips gently. "And believe me, I would much rather stay here, with you," he trailed his thick forefinger down her throat until he reached the upper swell of her breast, " just like this…" He winked playfully, "but yeah, we have to go…"

One side of her mouth curled at his admission and at his easy caress. "Some themed dinners are not terrible, but," she spread her fingers wide, low on his abdomen, and grinned coyly while inching further south by the second. "I find that I am especially opposed to leaving this bed right now…"

Brennan was inwardly surprised at how comfortable she was with her partner in their newly established relationship. The scientist had only been involved in a few loosely-structured relationships in her life - Michael, Peter and Sully - and none of those had allowed her the freedom to be playful in the same ways as she could with Booth. She had always been reserved, somewhat distant with her previous lovers, maintaining her protective barriers against even her bed partners. Whether her actions were subconsciously based on the need for self-preservation against possible ridicule or a deeply-rooted fear of eventual rejection, she couldn't really say. On one level, since allowing Booth to penetrate her metaphorical walls, her survival instincts went into red-alert, warning her against being too free with her carefully-guarded emotions. On a much deeper level, however, she knew that Booth was the only man with whom she could trust the playfulness that seemed to spill forth so easily when they were together, so she tamped down those apprehensions and let the impish side of her nerdy personality shine. "I could make it worth your while…" She teased him with a sing-song voice and an awkward wink as she stretched up, pressing a kiss against the side of his neck.

He growled through a hungry grin, pushing his seductive scientist to her back, sliding over her prone body until he covered her. "You," he nuzzled against her neck, just below her ear, "are an evil, evil woman, Bones…" He opened his mouth and moved along her throats until he could press the flat of his tongue to her pulse point. The agent seized his partner's wandering hands as she tried to shimmy them between their bodies, heading straight for his crotch. Pulling those dancing phalanges away, he stretched both of her arms out to their sides and pressed them to the mattress. Chuckling, he arched his neck back and looked down at her bright, mischievous eyes and rubbed their noses quickly. "We both need to shower and get ready, Bones… We can't go to dinner smelling like sex…"

She smiled, knowing he was right, but feeling particularly playful. "Well, I can be ready in thirty minutes, Booth… What takes you so long?" Over the course of their partnership, whenever they had a function to attend, she had often teased him about how much longer he took getting ready than she did. When the opportunity presented itself in that moment, she couldn't resist challenging him.

"Heh, heh," his laugh was dangerous, accepting her challenge immediately. "No you didn't, Bones…" He pushed back, quickly sliding from the bed and grabbing her around the waist. Pulling her into his arms with ease, he ignored her laughing protests as marched towards the bathroom. "It's not nice to insult your partner, you know… It's not easy looking as good as I look."

She threw her head back in laughter at his retort and clung to his shoulders, enjoying the sensation of complete safety in his arms. "I never assumed it was easy, Booth… I've only ever observed that it takes you a long time," she giggled uncharacteristically. Again, in the back of her mind, her thoughts moved fleetingly to previous relationships. Even in her most casual of encounters, she couldn't think of a partner who could take charge in such a way that she allowed herself to be physically manhandled. But with Booth, the years of evidence of his care, she knew no harm would come from her acquiescence to his impressive prowess.

Pausing in the doorway of the bathroom, he waited while she flipped the light-switch and then moved across to the shower. Holding the bulk of her weight in his right arm, his left let her legs fall slowly to the floor as his lips grabbed hers. Once she was standing on her own accord, he reached into the shower and turned the knob, setting it to a comfortable heat. His dark eyes studied her anticipatory expression, feeling his body already responding to her proximity… and to her nakedness. Palming her ribs, he pulled her against his body, smiling down into her eyes. "It's hard work makin' myself look good enough to be seen at your side, Bones." He backed her into the shower stall. "You're quite a challenge, y'know…"

Welcoming the hot water as it hit her shoulders and ran down her back, Brennan reached out, grabbing her partner's waist and pulling him into the steamy warmth as well. "I think you look good right now, Booth," her lips curled as her blue eyes darkened, her body starting to thrum in response to his attractive masculine structure. Her gaze raked hungrily across his bare chest and down his torso, admiring his toned abs and the way his upper body tapered down to narrow hips, forming the often sought-after triangular shape.

"Well," his own eyes roamed as he spoke, palming her hips, "let's see what we can do to save some time, huh?" He pulled her flush to his body and bowed his head, meeting her eager lips with a mutual smile as his hands slid along her smooth skin, until he cupped the backs of her thighs, wordlessly encouraging her to wrap her legs around his hips, a request to which she complied immediately.

B/B/B/B

Once she was dressed, Brennan sat on the balcony of Booth's room and waited while he finished his phone call. Rebecca had called to finalize the dates that Booth was planning to take their son camping, ensuring that she was clear to schedule a work-trip and naturally, once his parents were through talking, Parker was eager to speak to his father. The scientist could imagine the excitement radiating from Parker at the discussion of his annual camping trip, and while she listened to the one-sided conversation from Booth, she simply relaxed and enjoyed the breeze rolling off the water. She could smell a delicious mix of aromas drifting up from the patio below, accompanied by the inviting sounds of steel drums playing a tune she recognized, but couldn't name.

"Yeah, we sure are, Bub," Booth moved onto the balcony and stood behind his partner's chair. Tracing a single finger along her shoulder, he smiled when he saw her shiver. "Well, when I get home this weekend I can call for the reservations and if they don't have any open campsites there, then we can try the state park where you and I went fishing, huh?" He grinned at his son's excitement about their annual summer vacation. Brennan rested her head back against his torso and he cupped his hand around the side of her neck, winking down at her when she raised her pale gaze upwards. "Sounds like a plan, Parks. But hey, you better get going. Your mom said dinner was just about ready." He paused, listening to his son while letting his eyes skim across his partner's face as she closed her eyes, still resting against his abdomen. "I will, buddy. We love you, too."

He ended his call and bent over, pressing an upside-down kiss on Brennan's soft smile. "Parker says he loves you," he spoke against her mouth and pecked her once more before standing upright. "He's pretty stoked about camping this year."

She smiled and stood, walking around the table and smoothing her hand down his shirt. "He's always excited about camping, isn't he?"

"Well," Booth shrugged one shoulder and grinned, feeling excited in his own way to spend time with his boy. "Yeah, I guess he is."

"I think he's mostly looking forward to having you all to himself for a whole week. As an adolescent, he is sure to yearn for that connection with his father… And let's be honest, on most weekends, he is sharing you with either work or, in some cases," her voice grew quiet, "with me…" Her eyes traced his sharp features, silently wondering if Parker would truly welcome her to become an even more permanent addition to their unconventional family.

Booth interwove his fingers, resting them against the upper swell of her bottom as he looked down at her, instantly recognizing her hesitation. "He loves you, Bones. He loves spending time with you…"

"I just don't want him to think that I'm trying to take anything away. I don't want to interrupt your visitation schedule and I don't want -"

"Bones, relax." He smiled warmly. "He won't resent anything, I promise." One side of his lips curled further. "In fact, you should be prepared for him to invite you to join us."

She raised her brows in surprise. "What? Why would he do that? He has never invited me before. Besides," she prattled on without taking a breath, "this is his time with you… It wouldn't be fair for me to be there. And," her head tilted, "why would you say that? Parker can't possibly know yet that you and I have entered into a relationship..."

"My kid's pretty damn intuitive, you know. I think he can sense a change, even if he doesn't know or quite understand exactly what that change is..." He licked his lips and started rocking the two of them side to side, ever so slightly, swaying to the rhythm of a melody carried on the breeze from far below. "Besides, he asks me every year if we could invite you…"

The scientist was quite obviously shocked at this revelation, because she knew nothing about these invitations. "What?"

Booth nodded and smirked. "Yeah, he has wanted you to come along since he was," he looked up, calculating the years, "about, six…" He grew more serious. "But until this year, I didn't think I could handle being so close to you and not be able to, at the very least, reach out and touch you." Watching her process this information, he continued. "I thought this year, I'd let him ask you directly…" He released one hand from her back and raised a finger. "But, don't feel obligated to go, Bones. It's ok to tell him 'no' if it isn't something you think you'd enjoy."

Surprised at this new information, a 'V' formed between Brennan's eyebrows. "Would -" she thought for a moment. "Would you prefer that I decline Parker's invitation when he proposes it?"

"What?" He looked shocked that she would even consider that. "No, Bones, not at all. Why would you think that?" His fingers spanned around her hips, holding her in front of him at a close distance.

"Well, I wouldn't want to interfere with your plans, Booth. If he asks, and if you would prefer to have the week for just the two of you, I will decline. I wouldn't, however, let on that you and I discussed it prematurely, I would just respond spontaneously…" One of her hands rested on his chest, a single fingertip tracing a button. "I wouldn't want Parker to be upset with you…"

He shook his head and grinned. "Bones, if my kid invites you to our camping trip, and frankly I suspect he will, then I would welcome you with open arms." He tugged her closer and chuckled. "Of course, my arms will promptly close once you're within reaching distance." He kissed her lightly, enjoying her gentle laugh. "But seriously, Babe. If you don't want to, don't feel like you can't tell him no. If you do wanna go, then hell yeah, accept the damn invite."

She grinned at his encouragement, but reminded herself not to expect an invitation from the pre-teen; it was well documented that adolescents experienced erratic variances in moods and preferences. She knew, as a scientist and an anthropologist, that it was entirely possible, and highly probable, that Parker would soon be entering that stage of life when he would be more dependent on his father than on his mother, or in her case, on another female authority figure in his life. "I guess we'll just have to wait to see if he asks. If he doesn't, I won't be upset and I don't want you to be, either, Booth. Let him approach you about it. Promise me you won't try to coerce him..."

"I promise," he smiled into a kiss. Booth felt himself fall a little harder for his partner, knowing how much she loved his son already, and he adored how insistent she was to not influence his actions. For years, his genius thought she was incapable of relating to children, but she'd always had a special bond with Parker. He was certain that his son had the ability to pick up on his own feelings for Brennan, and as such, the child had accepted and eagerly welcomed her into their family. He rubbed their noses together playfully and squeezed his arms tighter. "Have I told you today how crazy I am about you?"

"You may have mentioned something to that effect." She joked and pressed a kiss to his jaw before they pulled apart, both knowing that they needed to head downstairs to the reception. As they moved back into the room and Booth locked his sliding door, she studied his attire. As he turned, she eyed his physique with appreciation. "Did you pack one of those," she pointed to his shirt, "in every color?"

Booth looked down at his shirt, smoothing out wrinkles that weren't there. He had packed three Guayabera shirts, liking the way they fit. "Nope, just three. Why? Don't you like it?" He cocked an eyebrow curiously.

"What?" Her eyes flared. "No." She smirked. "I mean yes."

"Yes you don't like it?" He teased.

"No, I do like it," she closed the distance between them again, tracing the pads of her fingers along the embroidery running vertically on the front pane. "When I see you in these shirts," she stepped even closer, until she could easily smell his cologne, "I think about Vegas…"

"Mmm," Booth hummed, recalling the images of his partner dressed in her Roxie dresses; they were the visions that fed his fantasies for years. "You," his wide hands spanned her rib cage, "were smokin', Bones... And Roxie was…" he licked his lips and let his eyes travel down her body, admiring the dress she was currently wearing while superimposing his memory of her red dress in his imagination. Curling one side of his lips as he leaned in for a kiss as he spoke against her mouth. "Roxie was fuckin' hot…"

She leaned into the kiss, her mind drifting back to their hotel room in Vegas, when she had harbored unspoken desires that they could've kissed like this. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she curled them up to his shoulders, molding her body against his and wishing they could stay in the room all evening. As he pulled back, however, she was quickly reminded that they had to make their obligatory appearance at the reception and company dinner.

"Hmm," he hummed. "We gotta go, babe."

"Mmm-hmm," she agreed but followed his mouth when he backed away, grinning when he let her. Just a few more minutes, she thought.

B/B/B/B

Booth and Brennan stepped onto the back patio, instantly greeted by a server offering beverages from a large silver tray.

"Good evening and welcome! Would you like a Beachside Rum Punch or a Coconut Mambo?" The young woman smiled warmly, her brightly colored uniform instantly giving the impression of embracing the evening's tropical island theme.

"Yeah, sure," Booth reached for the rum based drink. "Thanks."

"I'll have the Coconut Mambo, thank you," Brennan smiled warmly. Swiveling her eyes to Booth, she watched his throat work as he took a swallow of his tropical concoction before they continued into the crowd. Unable to stop herself, she launched into the history of her drink's namesake. "The Mambo was invented during the 1930s in Cuba. It wasn't widely marketed until the 1940s, though." She nodded at an agent she recognized from one of their sessions, but kept speaking to Booth. "The name means 'conversation with the gods'. It's been said that many professional dance teachers in the US saw the original dance as extreme and undisciplined, and as such, they found it necessary to alter and standardized it from its original form in order to gain enough interest from their students to make teaching it a worthwhile undertaking."

Booth enjoyed listening to her lessons, regardless of the topic. There was a time in their history when he thought she was just showing off and trying to make those around her feel intellectually inferior. As he grew to know her, and to love her, he came to the realization that she simply enjoyed sharing her knowledge, whatever the content and the thing that surprised him most was how much he looked forward to listening to her spiels. Nodding, he aimed them towards a gathering of crafters tents, his hand firm on her back. "My mom used to Mambo," he chuckled at a private memory of the way she would dance whenever she was cleaning. "I never learned that dance, though she taught me others." He glanced at his partner, noting her interest in s recollection. "Those were good times; times when dad was at the barbershop, and we could just be ourselves at home."

Smiling as they paused their stroll, she looked up at her partner. "I'm glad you have some happy memories, Booth."

Searching her pale gaze, he inhaled through his nose. "Yeah," he knew that she, too, valued the few happy memories of when she was able to be a carefree child rather than the unwanted ward of the state. "It's important, y'know?"

Nodding in agreement, she was cut off from continuing their conversation when they were joined by Mickey and Jean.

"Evenin', Booth, Temperance," Mickey clapped Booth's shoulder and nodded warmly at Brennan.

The ladies, happy to see they were each in attendance, immediately started chatting and walked towards the tents to see the crafts on display, leaving the men to trail behind. Both of the independent women found it interesting they had bonded so quickly, but neither mentioned the fact. It was almost as if they both silently acknowledged that their easy rhetoric was certainly unique, but by the mere mention of it, the mysterious revelation would be subject to scrutiny and as such, far more volatile. Happy to simply enjoy their newfound kinship they chatted amicably about their respective days and speculated on what the island-themed evening would bring about.

Looking his friend up and down as the former Army Rangers fell into an easy banter that only longtime friends could share, Mickey motioned to his shirt. "Didn't you get the memo, Booth? You we're supposed to pack a Hawaiian style shirt for our island-theme night…"

Trailing behind the girls, Booth chuckled at his buddy and colleague, who was donning a very typical, very gaudy floral print tropical-looking shirt. "Hey now, don't knock my style," Booth smirked as he smoothed down the button row of his lightweight shirt. "Guayabera shirts are island-style. They just don't scream poor fashion sense the way yours does." He laughed, "but don't get me wrong, you know? This look," he pointed to the garish colors, "it looks good on you!" He toasted his friend, who seemed to have purposely chosen an outrageously bright pattern for the event. "Besides, I don't even own a floral Hawaiian shirt. If I ever find myself in an appropriate setting, I'll be sure to pick one up, but I sure as hell wasn't gunna go buy one just for this week." The guys paused long enough to drop off their freshly emptied cocktail glasses and order a couple of scotches instead of accepting another theme-beverage.

"I wasn't sure you would be attending this event," Brennan mentioned to Jean, "but I am glad to see you."

"Mickey said they always have plenty of food at these things and it's not like someone is going to ask for an FBI badge or anything." She smiled. "They know I'm here with him."

"Excellent point," the anthropologist agreed. The pair walked side by side, allowing their comfortable conversation to flow organically as they approached one of the crafter tents. Stopping to watch an artist painting a colorful sunset scene, they were soon joined by Shaw and Soto, to whom Brennan introduced Jean, readily inviting them into the exploration of the various demonstrations.

Booth and Mickey had been following the ladies and paused to greet a small group of agents. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood as they enjoyed the casual atmosphere, not to mention the complimentary drinks and steel drum music. The gathering quickly grew as other agents migrated towards the charismatic banter, but Booth never lost visual contact with where his partner was wandering. He shifted his position within the group whenever the circle grew, and ensured that he could see her. It was more than a simple desire to look at her; in the back of the agent's mind, he was constantly aware that there was still a strong chance that her former foster-brother was somewhere on premises. While he never once doubted his partner's ability to defend herself, if she were to face her childhood tormentor, he needed to be there, to be her backup, her support, and to ensure she was safe. Seeing his partner enjoying herself in a way he rarely witnessed, he felt proud of her personal growth over the course of their partnership and he allowed himself to become further engaged in the conversations happening in his circle of co-workers, quickly jumping into a friendly debate involving some of his favorite sports teams and defending his stance.

The group continued to grow as new acquaintances joined longtime friends and it seemed that everyone fell into an unspoken hierarchical position among their peers. There were clearly alphas within the gathering, driving the animated discussions while others were more than content to simply contribute opinions here and there, or, in a few instances, just participate by being present and accounted for. The female agents who had taken such a shining to Booth in their earlier group session, took advantage of Brennan's absence from his side, and they pressed in close, trying to gain the attention of the infamous agent. While there were. quite obviously, several so-called 'free agents' who would have been more than happy to engage these young women in mutually flirtatious interactions, Booth seemed all but oblivious to their blatant interest and shameless gestures of availability.

After quite some time had passed, Booth felt the unmistakable presence of his partner as she and her counterparts approached the ever-growing gathering of agents. Without regard to the women who were vying for his attention, Booth turned his back to them and watched Brennan grow nearer, noting with some amusement that her pale eyes were locked on the position of those same women. She would never openly admit to him that the whole reason she was rejoining him before browsing through the rest of the crafters was because said females were pressed in against her partner a little too close for her comfort, but when she spotted his dark gaze following her, she knew her concerns were unfounded...he was not interested in the blatantly proffered attentions of the unknowns. Once again, he managed to completely dissolve her worries with nothing more than a small, knowing smile and molten eyes that spoke volumes to her without uttering a word.

Before they could engage in catch-up conversations, an announcement was made from the small stage where the steel drum band had been playing.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen!" Andrew Simmons was his typical overly-excited-self, greeting everyone with a wide, toothy grin and waving people forward. "Please, if I could just have everyone's attention for a few minutes before we commence with dinner…"

Postscript A/N

I know that not much happened here, but taking them straight out of the last chapter and down to the dinner seemed too abrupt, so that's why I spent some time with them upstair before letting them join the rest of the convention-goers. I hope you don't mind!

Again, all the best for a wonderful Holiday and 2017!

peace and love, my friends,

and some hugs, too!

~jazzy