Remember this story is AU.

I don't own Bones.

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Waiting at the bar for his glass of wine, Booth was surprised when he felt a hand on his arm. Assuming it was his partner, he turned with a big smile. "Want that dance now?"

The pretty woman standing next to him, smiled and flashed her perfect white teeth. "Why yes I would thank you."

A little disconcerted, Booth shook his head. "Um, sorry. I thought you were someone else."

Her lips now pouting, the lady continued to grip Booth's arm, using her fingers to knead it a little. "So that means you don't want to dance with me?"

Booth was used to women hitting on him, but he realized that he was a little put off with her massaging his arm. He didn't mind the attention of a beautiful woman, but he didn't like to be touched or manhandled by people he didn't know. Touching someone meant you trusted them and being touched was also a matter of trust. People had to earn his trust, even beautiful women.

Stepping back a little, Booth moved his arm so that the woman had to release it. "Sorry, I'm here with someone else."

Amused, the woman cocked her head to the side. "Well so am I, but Steven hates to dance and he doesn't mind if I dance with cute guys as long as I don't take them home with me."

The bartender handed Booth his glass of wine and smiled. "Here you go Sir."

Grateful for the distraction, Booth took the glass, sipped some of the chardonnay and decided that the woman hadn't meant any real harm. In fact, he thought maybe he'd over reacted. "Do you work at the Jeffersonian?"

"No. By the way my name is Marge Mars." Marge held out her hand for Booth to shake. "Yes, I know. It's a stupid name and I should have kept my maiden name when I got married."

Amused, Booth shook her hand. "My name is Seeley, so you can see I haven't got a lot to say about names.

Her laughter like silver bells, Marge shook her head. "Oh my, yes I can see that . . . My husband is here to meet Temperance Brennan the author and to contribute money to the Jeffersonian. He's a huge fan and Temperance can wrap him around her finger if she wants to." Seeing the concern flash across his face, she chuckled. "Oh don't worry. Steven is faithful to me. His infatuation is harmless. He's just a big fangirl when it comes to Temperance. Also, I'm pretty sure Temperance doesn't date married men. I've known her for about a year and I'm a pretty good judge of character."

Somehow relieved, Booth smiled. "Yeah, Bones has a lot of fans. We meet them when we work on cases."

Surprised, Marge placed her hand on Booth's arm once more, patted it and then removed it. "Oh, you must be the FBI agent that works with her. I saw an article in the paper about how you and she stopped a terrorist from blowing up a conference. Steven was thrilled about it. He hopes she writes a book based upon that case . . . you call her Bones and she lets you get away with it?"

Not really wanting to be reminded about the fact that he'd had to kill a man during that investigation, Booth nodded his head. "It's a nickname. She likes it . . . um, I know she's writing another book, but I have no idea what it's about. She keeps that a secret from me."

"Booth." Brennan had witnessed Marge Mars talking to Booth and the conversation seemed a little too intimate for her taste. The woman had touched her partner twice and like her, she knew that Booth didn't like strangers to touch him. Since he was still talking to her instead of walking away, she felt he might not be aware that Marge was a married woman. "I see you've met Marge Mars. I was just talking to her husband." Turning to face Marge, Brennan smiled. "Steven is talking to Ken Wadsworth."

Flustered, Marge placed her hands against her cheeks. "Oh no. That's not a good idea." Scurrying away, Marge searched the room to see if she could spot where her husband was.

Curious, Booth pointed at Marge with his glass of wine. "She seems upset."

Brennan laughed. "The last time Ken and Steven got together, Ken sold Steven a half interest in a silver mine in Nevada. It has yet to produce any silver. Steven told me about it."

"Bummer." Booth thought that was pretty funny. "So want to dance or are you still hobnobbing with the rich guys?"

Now that Marge was gone, Brennan felt a little more relaxed. "Yes, we can dance now. I have to mingle latter, but it can wait."

After setting his wine glass down, Booth grasped Brennan's hand and walked over to the dance floor. Once there, he pulled her into an easy embrace and started to slow dance with her. "This isn't too bad. I thought I'd be bored, but so far so good."

One hand in Booth's hand and the other on his shoulder, Brennan allowed Booth to set the pace of their dancing. "I've been to many of these. Some are boring, but I usually find someone interesting to talk to."

Daniel Goodman and Felicia had witnessed the entire scene between Booth and Marge and when Brennan had joined them. "Well, that was interesting." Felicia laughed and sipped her glass of Pinot Grigio.

Her husband shook his head. "That's not really how I would have categorized it."

Felicia lowered her glass. "Did you see the look on Temperance's face when she saw Marge stepping closer to Agent Booth and when she placed her hand on his arm? . . . well, she seemed very . . . um . . ."

"Tense." Daniel Goodman had been afraid for Marge when his anthropologist had approached her. After all, Brennan had once hit a judge in the nose and she'd shot someone the previous month during an investigation. "Yes, still everything worked out." As he watched the couple dance, he noticed that they were dancing closer than when they first began. "You know I'm supposed to be mingling with our guests not watching Temperance dance with her partner."

Felicia placed her glass down on a nearby table and shook her head. "No, first you're going to dance with me and then you may go beg for money for the Lab."

Amused, Goodman pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her. "Alright, but if Dr. Hodgins doesn't get his Mass Spectrometer I'll be the one that has to listen to his constant complaining not you."

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The fund raiser over, Booth drove Brennan home. "That wasn't too bad at all . . . um, you're a good dancer, Bones. We should go out dancing sometime."

Surprised, Brennan turned to stare at her partner while he kept his eyes on the road ahead. "I think that would a good idea, Booth."

Not sure what he was doing and why, Booth nodded his head. "Great. Maybe next weekend. I know about this great little jazz club. Live band. Nice dance floor. We could have fun. It would be a great way to unwind from the week." Unable to stop himself, Booth realized that he might just be falling in love with his partner. Oh God. This may be the worse idea ever, but . . . God I can't help it.

Not really sure if Booth was making himself available for a personal relationship with her, Brennan frowned, turned in her seat and watched the buildings as Booth drove past them. "Yes, I like to dance, but I don't really have a lot of opportunities to do so." Am I making a mistake? Booth believes in love and I don't. This might not end well. What if he wants to have a sexual relationship with me? I don't want to become attached to him. I don't believe in love. He is a good friend though or at least he's trying to be and really he is very handsome and he is nice to me. Confused about her feelings, Brennan knew she needed to talk to Angela. She needed someone to help her understand what was going on and why.

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