Very overdue. Apologies. My beta Jen hasn't been well (get well soon, Lovely) so in the interests of time, I've popped this up unbeta'd for now. May have a re-post in due course.

Brennan found herself in the Ladies' restroom by the Jeffersonian's main hall, staring blankly into a mirror, brain suddenly whirring away as she realised she was no longer snuggled up naked with Booth in their circus trailer. She took stock of her situation. Low cut black dress with a sweetheart neckline. Pear drop earrings. Hair down, gently curled at the ends. It came to her quickly enough. This was about eighteen months ago. This was the Egyptian reception for Anok. Brennan felt a new surge of emotion as she remembered what that night had almost been.

"Bren?" A voice spoke right by her. Still processing where (and when) she was, Brennan did not respond to Angela, who was standing next to her, casually reapplying her lipstick until her eyes flicked across the mirror to Brennan, and she became aware that her best friend had not moved for some time.

"Earth to Bren!" Angela noted Brennan's lack of riposte. "Sweetie, you OK? You're a million miles away." Angela was now genuinely concerned at her friend's presently gormless expression, the number of times of which she'd seen during their friendship, she could count on one hand. Previously that expression had come with a recollection of something horrible from her past that had been triggered by a specific piece of evidence, or a victim's story.

"Yes, Angela." Brennan heard her voice finally drift back to her friend without really being cognisant she'd uttered a syllable. She smoothed down the front of her dress as she tried to remember what part of the evening she was in. Had she spoken formally yet? Had she almost kissed Booth? She wracked her brains trying to remember when she'd used the restroom that night. "I'm fine, thank you. Just thinking about my speech."

"You're gonna be fine, Sweetie. You're always fine. You blow them away every time because you're a natural storyteller. Besides, you're on in a few minutes, so bash that self-doubt on the head," quipped Angela, nudging Brennan playfully with her shoulder, before following it up with a reassuring squeeze to the same spot. OK, so that established the element of timeframe. But where was Booth?

Brennan took a deep breath as Angela took a final look in the mirror, took her by the hand and led her out of the Ladies' toilets. She scoured the room for her partner, noting that he would be somewhat camouflaged by his tuxedo in a sea of such outfits. Brennan smiled to herself at the common analogy of men in tuxedos looking like penguins. She'd once read a University of Melbourne study* that summarised that successful male penguins 'had the best dance moves, sounded like someone called Issac Hayes (she'd had to look that one up) and was 'slightly burly'.' That had sounded just like Booth! She'd also read that penguins found their mates and families through recognising their calls through a cacophony of sounds, through what was called 'the cocktail party effect'. It was surprisingly easy for Brennan to find him in the end through just this method as she heard her name mentioned through the sea of white noise, looked for the source, and there he was, talking animatedly with a group from the Egyptian embassy. His eyes locked onto hers and a proud smile graced his face as she ventured over.

"Here she is!", called out a woman in the group whom Brennan recognised as a regular benefactor. "Doctor Brennan, many congratulations on your discovery."

"Thank you. This is a fascinating moment for Egyptian history, we are just custodians of that moment."

"Well, you've changed Egyptian history," another man in the group chimed in, with some admiration. Brennan gave an awkward smile, uncharacteristically looking mildly embarrassed at the plaudits. Seeing her discomfort, Booth politely excused them and ushered her away.

"You wanna go somewhere quiet?"

"Sure." They headed away from the main hall into a corridor. "This way," Brennan took Booth's hand and gently led him along for a few moments to a plain-looking door. She pushed it open and they walked in to an exhibition room. Looking over the steps that led down into the main chamber, they could see the Anok exhibit below.

Meanwhile, somewhere else in the sprawling main hall, Cam was suddenly aware that Brennan was not where she should be, and the key players, minus their anthropologist, were beginning to assemble near the temporary lectern that had been constructed for the official presentation.

"Where's she gone, damnit?", she hissed into Angela's ear, not unkindly, more in panic. Angela looked around for Brennan, only to find no sign of the anthropologist, nor her partner. "The Ambassador's going to speak in a moment, we need to find her." Cam looked more than slightly nervous. She did not want to have to explain where their star turn had snuck off to at the last moment, although noting that Booth was also nowhere to be seen, she suspected that they were probably together, wherever they were. Then Angela had a brainwave.

"I think I know where they've gone. Come with me." The whole group trailed behind her, along the corridor until they too reached a heavy wooden door.

In the meantime, Booth and Brennan had made their way down the stairs to the exhibit.

"Bones, we're not supposed to be down here yet."

"You're with me, Booth, this is my find! You're not going get into trouble. Don't- don't step on that!" Brennan warned him as he almost stepped onto the carefully polished brass plaque that had been inset into the floor.

"This guy is so cool! Aw, so he wasn't trampled by his brother?"

"No. Meti suffered from osteogenesis imperfecta, otherwise known as Brittle Bone disease. Meti's fall from his horse killed him. Anok was innocent. His mother was right."

"It only took three thousand years to hear her." Booth looked over to her, his voice dropping slightly deeper. "Aw, you know what, if I was Egypt, I'd throw you a party too." Brennan grinned at the compliment, before what was expected from her in the next ten minutes hit her, and she took a moment to compose herself.

"I have to speak. I hate these things."

"What are you talking about, Bones? You're great at these things. Listen, you changed history, how many people can say that?" His eyes sparkled, and so did hers.

"You can. Every arrest you make changes history. You make their world safer…"

"…With your help." She gave him the sort of smile that permeated his dreams far too often. "So Andrew", he stuttered for a second as he tried to work out how he was going to find out why he was there and Hacker wasn't. "I thought you were going to take him to this thing. That's what you told me."

"I was, yes, but you and I… this is our case and I guess… what goes on between us, just should be ours. Isn't that what you said?" Brennan gave Booth a mind-blowing look of what seemed to be pure coquettishness, leaving Booth's brain close to short-circuiting. Was Brennan flirting with him? She'd not done that so blatantly since they'd first met!

"Yeah…" was all that he could utter in complete awe. He was one hundred percent lost in her.

It was no coincidence that both partners' eyes had flicked down to each other's lips several times in the last thirty seconds. They'd edged closer to each other and both their voices had dropped to something just above a whisper. There was a point when Brennan felt they might finally get their chance, but at that moment, the door burst open and in came Angela, Cam and the rest, glasses in hand, Cam clearly more relaxed as Angela confidently and correctly found her missing star of the show.

"C'mon you two, the Ambassador's about to speak."

Damn you, Angela, she found herself thinking. For a split second as they entered, Angela realised that they may have inadvertently interrupted something, but ultimately, she and Cam were acting in both Brennan and the Jeffersonian's best interests. Booth knew that, and so did Brennan. They shared a sympathetic look of mild disappointment and a shy smile, Brennan allowing herself to straighten Booth's bow-tie entirely needlessly, before he returned the intimate gesture by brushing a non-existent curl off her shoulder.

"Thanks."

The partners made their way back to the staircase in at the far end of the room, Brennan reminding him not to step on the polished plaque once more. As they walked up the stairs, Brennan reached for Booth's hand, which he took readily, smiling down at where they were connected, and they stayed that way until they reached the door that led back into the main hall. As they reached the door, their hands dropped away automatically as they switched into professional mode. However, as Booth began to push the door open, he paused as they exchanged a look that vocalised nothing and meant everything.

The Ambassador spoke enthusiastically of the historic correction and the Egyptians' gratitude to the Jeffersonian, Brennan and Booth. Brennan did exactly what Booth knew she would do. She was articulate, eloquent and confident, and he found his chest puffed out with pride at the woman who described with great passion, how they had solved the case and what it meant to give justice to the ancient royal family. More than once they shared a brief glance whilst she spoke, Brennan aware of the sea change coming. She was glad of it and it excited her. She wondered if Booth felt what she did. He was so aware of people, of her. They'd not discussed any of these near misses since they'd been together, but this was one even Brennan felt had been so signposted she knew what that meant.


After she'd spoken, and the crowds melted back into various corners of the room, he grabbed them both a drink from the pop-up bar and greeted her with a glass of champagne.

"You were awesome, Bones. I told you you'd do great." He raised his glass at her and she reached out to clink hers against his, before they both took a sip, maintaining eye contact all the while.

"Thank you." They shared another smile as they sipped their drinks.

"You wanna go for a walk?" She nodded. They downed the rest of their glasses and left the empties on a table. Booth slipped his hand onto the small of her back, gently guiding her down the steps out into the Jefferson gardens. Some of the main grassy paths through the gardens were lit with solar lamps, creating a gentle glow around their feet.

They strolled along slowly with no pre-determined direction, chatting some more about the evening and the case, Booth's hand gradually moving from her back to around her waist. Brennan leant into him and let her head fall to his shoulder. They laughed, they bickered playfully. It all felt so natural.

They ended up in a darker area, under one of the pergolas nestled in the corners of the grounds, far away from the crowds still milling about the main hall and the attached courtyard. Booth sat down on a stone bench and pulled Brennan on to his lap, his hand spanning her back, holding her close, but with their heads remained far enough apart that they could comfortably look into each other's eyes. With Brennan perched on Booth's lap, their faces were at the same height.

"Do you think we'll be interrupted this time?" Brennan whispered, her expression reverting to the same flirtatious one she'd shared with him earlier.

"Nah." Booth gave her a comforting smile. "The Squint squad set up camp by the bar, they'll be on their third bottle of champagne by now. No one else will care where we are in any case."

With his free hand, Booth touched her hair again in the same way he had done down in the Anok exhibit, but left it lingering in that same spot, allowing himself to feel the silky strands twining around his fingers. His hand then flattened out and moved upwards so that he was caressing her cheek, his thumb moving to touch the edge of her lips. Her heart felt like it had flipped, even though Brennan knew that wasn't physiologically possible. It sure as hell felt that way.

Brennan took the opportunity to reach forward and straighten his tie, just as she too had done before, before sliding her hands around his neck. Booth's hand went to the back of her head and they finally leant in for the kiss they'd waited quite some time to have.

In amongst the incredible sensation of their lips meeting, mouths opening and tongues crashing together, Brennan found the nature study pop back into her brain, probably triggered by her straightening his tie again. They kissed for some moments, but she gave an uncharacteristic giggle as she pulled back from him.

"Bones?" He looked lovingly but quizzically at her, not sure whether to be offended.

"Penguins." She smiled broadly at Booth. "I was thinking about penguins." He still looked confused.

"It's a good thing" she said reassuringly, before she rested her forehead gently against his and they held each other closely, gently nuzzling, before she felt herself once again slipping away…

*The University of Melbourne study is entirely true and can be found via a web search; author, Dr Andi Horvath.

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