65. Gala, Part I

Bonnie patted her elaborate up-do nervously. She felt sure the braids and twists the stylist had worked so painstakingly into her hair were already slipping free of their pins. "Well," she said, offering herself for inspection. "What's the verdict?"

Her grandfather's eyes glistened with tears as he smiled his approval. "Beautiful," he said, somewhat huskily.

Eddie was not so quick to commit himself. He took her in from rosebud headband to strappy sandals before giving her a judicious nod. "Very nice. That dress alone is killer, and you in it, Toots…" He shook his head appreciatively. "I gotta say: ten out of ten."

Relieved, she grinned up at her cousin, impeccably turned out, himself, in black tie. "Does that mean you won't be embarrassed to be seen with me?"

He laughed. "For a change. Tell you what: it's gonna be a kick watching you knock guys dead all evening long. I'll keep a tally for you, Gramps."

Booth took Bonnie's hands in his, and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. "I'm really sorry I can't escort you tonight, Bonbon. You know that, right?"

She returned the pressure, and, leaning in, kissed his cheek. "Don't give it another thought, Gramps. It'd be a wonder if you felt like going out when you only just got back from the beach house this morning. You have yourself a quiet evening, and I'll tell you all about the gala later. Don't wait up for me, though," she cautioned. "I'll probably spend the night in town."

"Only 'probably,' huh?" Eddie asked, once they were settled in the SteerE and on their way. The afternoon light was fading fast, but there was no mistaking the mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Still not sure Baer's going to ask you back to his place for the night?"

Bonnie drew in a sharp breath, and rounded on him incredulously. "That's not what I meant at all, and you know it!"

"And the possibility never once crossed your mind, right?" He snorted. "Give me a break! I saw the two of you together at the hospital, remember? You're not gonna convince me there's nothing going on."

She glared at him repressively, even as a traitorous blush stained her cheeks. "And how're things going with you and Deena?"

His grin was unrepentant. "Touché!" He gave her a moment to simmer down, then ventured, "Speaking of your admirers, how 'bout old Trevor? Heard anything from him yet, or is that subject still taboo?"

September was already several days flown, and in that time, she'd had only one text from Trev, saying he was thinking of her, and looking forward to Labor Day. Everything she knew about his current whereabouts and circumstances, she'd learned from Vanna. "Apparently, he's winding up a trip out west. One of his college buddies is hiking the length of the Colorado Trail this summer, and Trev went out to do a stretch of it with him. He's been talking about wanting to get out into the wilderness for years — you know, the kind of thing where you jam everything you could possibly need for a week or more into a backpack and disappear into the great outdoors."

Eddie smiled knowingly. "Roughing it's never been your cup of tea."

"No. I'm perfectly fine with trekking through the woods for hours, but, at the end of the day, give me a hot shower and access to flush toilets. Namby-pamby, I know. Anyway, he's supposed to fly back either today or tomorrow, depending on what kind of time they make on the hike."

By an odd coincidence, when Bonnie crossed the threshold into the Great Hall some time later, it was if she had stepped into a moonlit clearing in a forest wonderland. Stands of potted saplings, their branches bedecked with fairy lights, had been set out at regular intervals to form an enclosure of sorts at one end of the cavernous space, with masses of ferns, compact shrubs and flowering plants filling in the gaps between. Behind the trees, the bank of windows and even the walls had been draped with heavy folds of blue-black cloth, creating an artificial darkness relieved only by the miniature lanterns glowing atop the cocktail tables, and the projection, on the ceiling, of a cloud-veiled moon floating in a midnight sky.

Beside her, Eddie gazed about him with interest. "Looks like a stage set for a production of A Midsummer Night's Dream."

"It really does." A shaft of light, suggestive of a moonbeam, caught her attention and drew her eye to the near side of the hall where a deep alcove had been transformed into a lush bower, with, glinting at its center, what appeared to be a tall, metal sculpture on a pedestal. A small group had gathered in the vicinity, partly obscuring her view, but then, as she watched, one of the party extended an arm, glass in hand, toward the structure, and she understood. "Look, Eddie! It's a fountain! Like the one in Lebrun's painting!"

She moved off toward it, not at a run, certainly, but at a brisk, eager pace. As she approached, she began to make out the details that cleverly evoked La Coupe d'amour: the circular blue floor-covering bordered in gray meant to represent the fountain's basin, the profusion of white flower balls wreathing the base like billows of mist, and everywhere, in the fountain's "pool," hanging from its bowl, and cavorting in the flowers, pudgy, sweet-faced putti. There was even a cupid hovering in the air, an arrow nocked in his bow and ready to be sped into some unsuspecting heart.

So focused was she on the fountain, Bonnie didn't notice Dr. Cummings until she was practically right next to him. "Oh! Good evening, sir," she said, in answer to his greeting. "I didn't see you there."

He chuckled delightedly. "No, you only had eyes for this little beauty here." He turned back to admire the rivulets of pale gold liquid streaming down through a top and middle tier, and spouting out, finally, into an enormous silver-aluminum bowl. "The Event Staff did a bang-up job, don't you think? They couldn't find a drinks fountain on the market grand enough to suit the occasion, so they built one themselves." He caught sight of Eddie at Bonnie's elbow, and, extending a hand, smiled in welcome. "Now, would you be Bonnie's brother or cousin? You bear too strong a resemblance to Special Agent Booth not to be related."

Bonnie made the introductions, and explained how it was that Dr. Cummings was acquainted with their grandfather. At Eddie's polite show of interest, Dr. Cummings launched into a comprehensive rehash of the old investigation, which, to judge from the fixed smile on her cousin's face, Eddie endured more than enjoyed. She, too, listened with only half an ear, distracted by the splendor of the decorations and by the arrival of several early-bird attendees who, strolling in, pulled up short and looked about them in amazement. Bonnie did not want to admit she was watching particularly for Bear but then, he walked in with his quicker, more purposeful step, and she could not contain her smile. He stopped to survey the hall, and, having spotted them, headed in their direction around and past the couples in his way.

Bear might have deplored the necessity of wearing a 'monkey suit,' but there was no denying he cut a fine figure in his severe formal attire. His tuxedo jacket was not in the latest fashion, but it fit him perfectly, emphasizing his broad shoulders and trim waist, and, if there was nothing especially stylish about his butterfly bow tie, plain onyx studs and flat, white pocket square, neither was there anything to reproach in them. As he drew closer and Bonnie smiled into his eyes, Bear seemed almost to stumble, but he recovered quickly and came on to join them without further misstep.

"Ah, Baer!" Cummings clapped his assistant heartily on the back. "There you are! And not a moment too soon by the looks of it," he added, seeming surprised by the number of guests already milling about the hall. Suddenly, he flashed an ingratiating smile, and, raising a hand, acknowledged the gracious nod of a distinguished older gentleman. Bonnie recognized the French Cultural Attaché, accompanied by an elegant woman she assumed to be his wife. Cummings set off toward them with no more ceremony than a murmured "If you'll excuse me" over his shoulder.

They watched him go, and then, Eddie holding out a hand to him, Bear took it. "Good to see you, Booth. I didn't expect to have the pleasure."

"Yeah, well, you know how it is." He snaked an arm around Bonnie's shoulder, and hugged her to his side. "Anything for this little Sweet Tart here. I'm gonna say, as shouldn't, being family, she looks pretty as a picture tonight. Don't you think?"

Before Bear could formulate an answer, Eddie's brows drew down in concern, and, reaching into his jacket's inner pocket, he extracted a device so small and wafer-thin Bonnie didn't immediately recognize it as a vid-screen. "Paradise Lost," he said, all trace of levity gone. "Sorry. I've got to take this." And, with that, he swung on his heel, and strode off, the device already pressed to his ear.

When he had disappeared from view, Bear turned back to Bonnie. "Trouble at the bar again?"

"Sounds like it." She wondered if that was the last they'd see of Eddie for the evening. "I hope it's nothing serious."

There followed a few awkward moments where neither spoke, or could look at the other without a self-conscious smile. For something to say, Bonnie was just about to ask how dropping Danny off at the Jolicoeurs' had gone when Bear volunteered, "Seems I might've lost my chance to set Booth straight."

Bonnie couldn't have said if it was the warmth or devilry in his eyes that flustered her more. "About…?"

"Your being pretty as a picture. You're actually pretty as a painting, if I don't miss my guess. La Coupe d'amour, to be precise."

She colored with a mixture of pleasure and diffidence. "It's not too obvious, is it? I don't want to look like I'm wearing a costume."

"No danger of that," he assured her. "It'd take someone who knows the painting really well to see the similarities, and even then, they'd only be tipped off by the roses in your hair." He looked about him at the trees, the burbling fountain, the night sky overhead. "Were you in on all this, then? It's too bad no one thought to clue me in on the plan. I could've broken out my toga."

Bonnie burst out laughing at the thought of Bear kitted out like Lebrun's male figure. "You'd never!"

"No," he conceded, glancing pointedly down at himself. "I'm ridiculous enough in this getup as it is."

She tried valiantly to suppress a smile, but doubted she was entirely successful. "You're no such thing. You look very debonair, in fact. Except for… well… your tie."

Bear fingered the offending object irritably. "The blasted thing. I can never get it knotted right."

She took a step toward him, hands reaching up toward his collar. "May I?"

"Ah…" The butterfly trembled like a live creature as Bear swallowed hard. "I… er, sure."

He angled his chin up for her, and held himself rigidly still for as long as it took her to twist and tug the black silk folds taut and straight. "There," she said, retreating a step and grinning up at him. "Now you're flawless."

Bear, however, did not return her smile, or seem even to have heard her. His eyes were not on hers, but fully intent on her mouth, no very great distance from his own. Bonnie froze in place, her breath catching in her throat as she became suddenly, acutely aware that he had only to lower his head a few, short inches to press his lips to hers. He flicked a glance up at her, the familiar troubled look back in his eyes, and then, his gaze dropping down again…

"Bonnie?"

Startled, Bonnie and Bear both jumped, causing the tall blond who'd come up beside them to grimace in apology. "Sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt…"

"Not at all," Bonnie said, composing herself as best she could. The woman's face was vaguely familiar, but Bonnie wouldn't have placed her if not for the professional camera gear slung round her neck. "Andrea, isn't it? From PR?"

"I'm flattered you remember. Dr. Baer," she said, giving him a nod. "As you've probably already figured out, I'm the photog on duty tonight, and I'd like to get a shot of the two of you together while the getting's good."

Bonnie looked a question at Bear who shrugged, resigned. "All right. Where do you want us?"

"I'm thinking right here, by the fountain. Hold on a sec." She made her way to a table laden with shallow, broad-bowled glasses, and returned with one for each of them. "Here, take these. Now, what I'd like for you to do is stand right about here…" She positioned them side by side an easy arm's length from the fountain. "Good! Now, hold your glasses out toward the champagne but not under it… That's it. Now, Dr. Baer, if you could lean forward a bit? Bonnie, can you turn your shoulders toward me without moving your head? Perfect!" Andrea continued in this vein, coaxing the poses she wanted out of them, all the while snapping merrily away and in constant motion herself. "Okay, for this last one, go ahead and fill those glasses, but this time look at me while you do it. At me, please! Eyes this way! Big smiles… Don't move a muscle now… Got it!" She lowered the camera, and treated them to a toothy grin. "Thanks! You guys have been real troopers. I'll leave you to enjoy your drinks. Have a good evening!"

Before she could walk away, however, a young couple, coupes already in hand, asked if she wouldn't take their picture, too. Bear and Bonnie, their champagne untouched, slipped out of the bower to make room for them. When they'd gone a few feet away, Bonnie stopped and raised her glass to Bear. "Cheers."

He clinked his rim to hers. "Cheers."

She'd taken no more than a small sip when she spied Eddie wending his way back to them. His face was no less pinched and grim, but she didn't sense any urgency about him. "Everything all right?" she asked when he'd come within range.

He blew out a long breath. "There's been some unpleasantness," he admitted. "Nothing Deena shouldn't be able to handle on her own."

The hint of doubt in his voice was subtle but unmistakable. "You're worried about her. Really, Eddie, if there's any chance she might need you, you should go."

Still, Eddie hesitated. "I don't know. It's not like it's an emergency…" He regarded her uneasily, obviously torn. "I don't feel right bailing on you, Bonbon. Besides, I promised Gramps…"

He broke off with such a theatrical air of fatality that Bonnie immediately smelled a rat. Bear, far less wise to the wiles of Eddie Booth, offered, "I'll see Bonnie gets home safely, if that's the hold-up."

Eddie brightened at once. "Oh, man! Would you, really? I wouldn't want to impose, but, seriously, that'd be great."

"It's no trouble."

They shook on it, and then, her devious cousin leaning down to kiss her cheek good-bye, he whispered in her ear, "You can thank me later. Have fun."