Chapter 3 - Celebration
"How was your weekend with Parker?" Bones asked from the stool beside him as the bartender slid their drinks in front of them.
He glanced over at her with a smile, grateful for what she'd done for him a few days prior. Rebecca never would have left Parker if she'd seen his apartment in the state it was in before Bones and her utility belt of disinfectants had Tasmanian-deviled through there. "It was great, Bones. Thanks again." He told her, enjoying the small smile that twitched at one side of her mouth. "He said to tell you 'Hi' and that he misses you." Booth confessed, feeling his chest tighten as he remembered the conversation with his son and the rapid fire questions about why they never hang out with Bones anymore.
"Please tell him 'Hi' back and that I miss him also." She murmured, and he could tell that she wasn't just saying it to be polite. "Perhaps, he'd like to come swimming soon." She suggested, and Booth nodded.
Excusing herself and nodding at the restrooms, Bones slid off her stool and walked away. Instinctively, Booth pulled her glass in front of himself, ensuring the bartender didn't think she was done with it and any shady patrons didn't get any smooth ideas.
"Double fisting it tonight?"
Booth glanced up at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and watched as the woman sat down on the stool next to him.
"Laura." She said, offering her slender hand to him as she leaned in just a little closer than a stranger should.
"Seeley." He replied with a smile, shaking her hand. She was gorgeous, he would never deny that.
"So, Seeley, are you celebrating or drowning your sorrows?" She asked, pointing to the two half full glasses of scotch in front of him.
"A bit of both. I'm an FBI agent, and I always toast to a closed case, but, uh, I am working through a pretty recent breakup." He admitted, and gave her an apologetic smile.
"I think I catch your drift, Agent Seeley." She said, taking her drink and sliding off the barstool next to him. "Some other time." She told him with a wink, giving his shoulder a squeeze as she disappeared back to a table of other very attractive women on the other side of the bar.
Glancing around, he saw Bones sitting several stools away. She must have returned from the bathroom while Laura was chatting him up. Sliding their drinks along the bar with him, he shifted over until he was sitting next to her. He startled her out of her thoughts when he slid her drink back in front of her, and she looked up at him with a smile.
"That woman was very attractive." Bones pointed out to him. "She was dressed very alluringly as well, and leaning in closely to you. Anthropologically speaking, she was presenting herself to mate with you." Bones stated, her words like carefully constructed brick walls.
"I didn't notice." Booth said with a shrug as he took a long swallow of his drink.
"You're usually very observant, Booth. You're also well versed in the actions of beautiful women." She stated firmly. "Perhaps, your disinterest in that woman is in direct correlation to your lingering feelings for Hannah." She pointed out, but he shook his head. "Are you still in love with Hannah?" She asked, and he shook his head again, clearing his throat in an attempt to push down the pinching feeling in his chest at the pained expression on her face.
"I'm hurt that it's over, Bones, but nah, I don't think I'm still in love with Hannah." He told her, admitting to himself as much as he was admitting to Bones.
She nodded, and he could see the wheels spinning in her head as she tried to come up with a socially acceptable response to his comment.
"Many cultures mark milestones in a young man's life with elaborate ceremonies." She said, and it was probably the one thing that he wasn't expecting her to say.
"Bones, I'm a full grown man, and being dumped is not a milestone." He said with a chuckle.
"Anthropology suggests that when a relationship ends, there are three main stages of moving forward." She explained, ignoring his comment. "Stage One is admission."
"Oh, so this is like a GA meeting. First step to fixing your problem is admitting you have one." He teased, but she nodded emphatically, smiling at him like a proud teacher.
"Precisely. You have admitted to yourself and your friends that your relationship with Hannah was unsuccessful." She agreed, and he wondered if she was going to tell him he had to make amends to the people he hurt in the process of being with Hannah. "The second stage is cleansing." She told him with a very pointed look.
"Alcohol!" He said, grinning as he clinked his glass against hers. "Alcohol is an antiseptic."
Bones frowned at him. "Yes, and we also cleansed your apartment and washed the dirty sex sheets." She pointed out, and his face felt warmer suddenly.
"They were not dirty sex sheets…" he muttered as she pressed on.
"Stage Three is Celebration. You are free from the ties that bound you to this person and someone in the universe will soon receive the gift that is you." She explained with a smile.
"Oh yea. The gift that is me. Lucky them." He said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at the prospect of anyone receiving him as a gift. Most recipients have been known to return him.
The sound of her soft voice drew his eyes back to her. "Yes, lucky them." She murmured, looking at the amber liquid in her glass.
"So… anthropologically, how do we celebrate?" He asked, clearing his throat and aching to wipe that sad expression off of her face. "Do I get a cake that says Happy Dump Day on the one year anniversary of changing my dirty sex sheets?"
The smile and the light returning to her face was reward enough, and he was glad for the distraction, even at his own expense.
"Well, anthropology is all about dancing." She informed him with a flourish of her hands.
"So, we dance?" He asked nervously, and she nodded, sliding off her barstool and striding across the bar to the jukebox in the corner.
Glancing around the bar at the other patrons, none of whom were dancing at all, he felt his ears heat up and his stomach bottom out. She really expected him to break out into dance right here, right now?
As the first few bars of Hot Blooded, their song, played throughout the bar, he took a deep breath. She was hopping around, playing air guitar as she made her way back over to him. She tugged his hand, pulling him off of his barstool and danced enthusiastically in front of him. The stares of curiosity and incredulity of the other bar patrons didn't seem to catch her notice, and he didn't have the heart to care what they thought of his outlandish partner.
Grabbing her hands, he joined in her weird tribal dancing, allowing her to lead as they moved to a rhythm that she alone could hear; a rhythm he'd gladly dance to for the rest of his life.
