It has been very kindly pointed out to me that it is not the best idea to keep posting tags when I haven't updated my multi-chapter fic in over two weeks. You are absolutely correct, and I apologize. Bad author! So, as a gift for those of you who have been waiting so patiently, here is the next chapter - quite a bit longer in length than previous chapters. More BB for your buck! I hope you are satisfied with my effort, late though it may be - if you would like to reach out to me, either to comment, or to yell at me for the lengthy delay, you are, of course, ALWAYS welcome. To WaterPig83 - Fort Bliss did do basic training, but they discontinued it in 1990. My brother did his basic there - so, you are correct, as I was basing my fic on old info. If you want to register here, I could always use a knowledgable military technical advisor! (Hint hint) If not, then thank you for your information on my previous chapter - you are a font of information! And now, I will leave you to it, and start working on the next chapter, like a good girl.
THE BET
"Are you sure you're on your way?" Angela tapped one elegant finger against her celphone. "Because I know you, sweetie – your ten minutes can and has turned into ten hours." She listened for another minute before interrupting. "No, I'm not saying you're chronically late, I'm just saying that you can get – sidetracked – by work. You know what, let me just talk to Booth."
"Late, huh?" Amused, Hodgins leaned back in his chair sipped his wine.
"She swears they're almost here, but I want to talk to him and make sure." A long-suffering sigh filtered through her lips at the sound of the voices transmitting clearly through the phone. "And now they're arguing."
"Well, some things never change." He squeezed her knee companionably. "Any other couple that argued that much would've killed each other by now." Absently he waved away the hovering waiter. "Thank God we don't fight like that. You'd have pulverized me a long time ago."
She chuckled and aimed a meaningful stare at him. "You know it. Better watch those black-eyed peas, Earl. Booth? Where are you? Okay…okay, fine. Just turn left at Georgetown Tee's from Wisconsin. We're here, toward the back of the room, in the corner. Okay, bye." She dropped her phone in the black miniature Jack had given her for Christmas. "They're five minutes away – we should crack another bottle of wine." She swung back to him, frowning, when he didn't immediately answer. "What's wrong?"
He only stared for a moment, the look on his face somewhere between awe and amusement. "Black-eyed peas? Have I told you lately that you scare me, sometimes?"
She purred and leaned closer, pressing her lips to his for a lengthy, pleasurable moment. "Have I told you lately that I adore you, all the time?" She pressed against him for another quick embrace before sitting back and grinning saucily at him. "You play your cards right tonight, buster, and you just might get lucky…"
Feigning disinterest, he casually sipped at his wine. "As opposed to the last six nights when…nope, no, as I recall I got lucky the last six nights in a row."
"Oh, ha ha. If you want to make it seven, you'd better get that waiter back over here."
*****
Saturday evening in Georgetown was living up to its frustrating reputation. They'd circled the block four times without so much as spotting a single open space for parking. At least, a space that the mammoth Tahoe could fit into successfully.
Brennan flipped her phone closed and forced it into the absurdly small evening bag Angela had made her buy. "Booth, we're late as it is – if we don't find something soon, we'll have to call them back and reschedule. Try Wisconsin again." Brennan fidgeted in her seat, fighting the urge to simply hop out of the truck the next time it stopped. Outwardly she was calm, but she'd felt slightly less than normal since their shower. Neither had spoken of it afterward. They'd simply treated it as just another moment between them, one more sexual encounter to add to the rapidly growing list. But she hadn't felt that exposed – that emotionally vulnerable – in a long time. Maybe never. She was sure he was aware of this fact. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, he'd appeared willing to ignore it for the moment. They'd hidden their reluctance to talk behind the rush to get ready. If he'd pushed her, insisted on talking, she simply wouldn't have known what to say. She wouldn't have known what to say because she didn't know what to think. Didn't know at all what she was feeling. So she was grateful for his tact and gladly pretended with him.
"I tried Wisconsin three times already, Bones. There wasn't anything at all." His sense of humor kicked in belatedly, and he shook his head in good-tempered disgust while hooking a left on Prospect. "It's amazing that a neighborhood with so little parking doesn't have a dedicated Metro stop. What the hell were they thinking?"
Never one to be deterred once she'd made up her mind, she merely stared at him until he was finished speaking. "There were too many difficulties in negotiating the steep grade from the Potomac River. You know, Booth, you drove down Wisconsin three times in one direction, but never tried making a right. I think you should check down at the other end."
"Just let me find the parking, okay, Bones? I can manage just fine, thank you. Finding parking in D.C. is an art, you know. You just have to be in the right place at the right…aha, time!" Grinning at his success, he pulled into the last open space in the small public lot. He was glad a spot had appeared – he'd been ready to park on the street and stick his badge on the dash.
"That makes no sense, Booth – being in the right place at the right time implies a random coincidence, and has nothing to do with any talent on your part."
"Well, either way, we're parked, so let's get going. Come on…" He took her hand and began tugging her through the darkness toward M Street, ignoring her continued comments on everything but the weather.
"If we cut through this alley, we can get there much faster. In fact –" She stopped when he abruptly reversed their positions, effectively trapping her against the Abercrombie & Fitch storefront. "What are you doing?"
No matter how often he surprised her, he never grew tired of her reactions. Enjoying her sudden wariness, he pushed forward another inch, placing two very proprietary hands on her hips. "I'm going to kiss you until you can't talk anymore." He leaned in, only to come up short when she planted her hand against his chest for the second time that day. "Problem?"
"I'm not going to kiss you, Booth. Angela made me promise to arrive on time and dressed exactly as she directed. I'm already late – I'm not about to ruin my makeup before she sees it. She was quite insistent."
He only smiled, a cocky combination of sharp, snapping brown eyes and sensuous lips. "Not a problem." Quickly ducking his head down, he fastened his mouth hungrily on the base of her throat, thrilling in her high-pitched cry and quick shudder. She moaned, and her neck vibrated against his lips. He only pressed harder, suddenly ravenous for the sweet, spicy taste of her, drowning in the lovely clean fragrance just under her jaw. His palms slid behind her, pulling her even closer to his powerful frame.
The firm nip of his teeth on her sensitive skin made her jump in reaction. No thought came, no word came, only sensation after sweet sensation swamping her until her eyes drifted shut and her head tipped back against the wall. Needy hands slid along his shoulders as she attempted to grip the pewter fabric of his suit jacket in suddenly nerveless fingers.
After several minutes, his hunger only mildly assuaged, he leaned back slightly, satisfied that he'd at least won a moment's silence from her. His blood roared with frustration when he saw the raw need in her eyes, the loss of control in her breathlessness. "Maybe we should postpone after all - 'cause I gotta tell you, I'm all for getting back in the truck."
Somehow she found enough air to speak. She hadn't been sure she would be able to, for a moment. "We can't go home now, Booth. We're almost there."
"Who said anything about going home?" His eyes darkened impossibly, and his smile deepened. "I just want to get back in the truck. After all, you were the one who educated me about just how versatile the Tahoe is…" He brought his hand to her cheek, his thumb gently tracing her mouth. "Wanna play double date hooky, Bones?" Before she could answer, he laid his thumb firmly across her lips. "And don't tell me you don't know what that means," he breathed, "because I think you do."
She wanted to. She was amazed by just how powerful the urge was to take him by the hand and drag him back to the truck. Where they could be alone. Where he could put his hands on her. No matter how many times they were together, her sexual interest in him hadn't waned in the least. If anything, now that she was cognizant of just how compatible they were, she only wanted him more. It was like Angela sometimes said…Angela. With a start, she realized his hands were riding up under her coat, and she hastily pushed him away, straightening her ensemble with slightly trembling hands. "We have to go, Booth. Angela and Hodgins are waiting." She pushed off the wall and began to walk again, and he fell into step beside her with a low chuckle.
After a minute, he turned to her curiously. "You're walking pretty slow, there, Bones, for someone who's in a hurry."
Cross, she hissed in frustration. "It's these shoes. They're even higher than the heels I wore in Las Vegas. I'm having trouble walking in them."
He dropped back marginally, enjoying the spectacular hip action the shoes encouraged. "I don't know. You look pretty good to me…" When she threw him an impatient look, he stepped to her again. "Here, let's try this." Quick as a whip, his arm darted out and pulled her tight against his side, hitching her slightly against his hip. He took a couple of experimental strides before looking at her again. "Better…Roxy?"
"Actually, yes, it is better." She draped her arm over his shoulder, easily finding a comfortable spot. With him lending his balance, it was much easier to make progress. She'd forgotten that they'd done that in Vegas. "Thanks, Tony."
They grinned at each other for a moment before he thought of her outfit. "Angela's not gonna kill me for wrinkling your dress?"
"That shouldn't be a problem. I wouldn't worry about it."
He adopted his most wheedling tone at her vague answer. "You know, I wouldn't be worrying about it if you had just let me see what it looked like back at the apartment." Seeing that his argument was being completely ignored, he felt obligated to whine a bit. "I don't know why you wouldn't let me look at it…"
She turned an all-too-knowing gaze on him. "I wouldn't let you look at it because if I had, we'd still be at the apartment. Don't bother to deny it," she challenged, stopping him in mid-protest, "because you know it's true."
He smiled, a quicksilver flash of teeth just barely visible in the darkness. "Bones! I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, shut up, Booth."
*****
The atmosphere in the club was subdued and elegant. A small jazz band played smoky blues and jazz classics, and the dance floor was well-filled. They finally worked their way through the crowd and found their table, a task made easier by the sight of Angela bouncing up and down in her chair and waving like a madwoman.
"Sweetie! Okay, that was more like fifteen minutes. I was really beginning to wonder if you'd changed your minds about coming…"
"Almost," Booth breathed hot in her ear as he removed her coat. Her quick tremor was extremely gratifying, and as arousing as hell. Then she spoke, and his smile quickly faded.
"It was Booth's fault, Angela."
"Wait a minute, why was it my fault? What about the shoes?" He turned to Angela and pointed at the floor. "She couldn't walk in those shoes you made her buy. I had to help her."
"Nope, the shoes aren't allowed to be blamed." She peered adoringly at the camel peep-toe pumps adorning Brennan's feet. "Christian Louboutins are a law unto themselves – they have an automatic pardon. Besides," she drawled, her deadpan expression slicing expertly into Booth, "I can tell why you're late." Balling up her napkin, she threw it at his head. "She's not a chew toy, Booth."
He snorted with laughter, delighted with her wit. "Yeah, well, she wouldn't stop complaining." Turning to admire his handiwork, he nearly swallowed his tongue when she turned toward him as well. "Jesus Christ, Bones…"
The stretch satin showcased her body to perfection, the bodice hugging her tightly while the skirt subtly skimmed her hips before ending just above the knee. Two small straps were the only things keeping her impressive curves from bursting forth, as the bustier neckline was as daring as anything she'd ever worn before. The smoky navy color darkened her eyes and set off her skin, making her seem luminous in the low lighting. The effect was heightened by the complete absence of any jewelry.
"Oh, Bren, you look so beautiful!" As Booth seemed to be transfixed, she pushed impatiently past him and enveloped her friend in an effusive embrace. "Here, come with me, you can use my powder. I want a perfect mental picture of all of us, and it won't be if you have teeth marks." Her indulgent smile softened the sting of her words, and she clutched Brennan by the elbow. "C'mon, let's go…"
"But – wait, I don't understand. Why do we have to go together? I'm perfectly capable of fixing my own makeup…" Meeting Angela's eyes, she suddenly remembered one of her friend's lessons. "Oh, is this the part where two females go to the bathroom at the same time so they can have a private conversation and compare their lover's attributes?"
"Yes, honey, although we don't usually tell the men. It's just one of those little secrets women like to keep. Come on, let's go."
"What about men? Don't men go to the bathroom together?"
"No, no, no, not gonna happen!" Jolted out of the reverie he'd been in since he'd seen her in the dress, Booth spit out a hasty denial as Hodgins choked on his Cabernet. "Men do not go to the bathroom together."
"Ever," Hodgins managed, his eyes watery, as he managed to finally inhale, "ever. Not ever."
"Not even at the point of a gun, Bones." Booth shuddered at the thought, casting his eyes around hastily to make sure no one was close enough to hear their conversation.
"All right, you He-Men – we get it. We'll be back soon. You and Booth go ahead and order some appetizers for us, Hodgins. I told you what Bren and I will want." She pulled Brennan along behind her, ignoring her friend's pointed questions about male and female stereotypes and gender equations.
In the relative quiet following their departure, Booth and Hodgins eyed each other nervously. Finally, Hodgins broke the silence.
"Man, that was awkward. I feel like we were assaulted or something. Maybe we should talk about something extra manly now to compensate. Know any sports scores?"
Booth stared at him as if he'd suddenly sprouted a second head. "You're kidding, right?" Brushing his hands together, he eagerly sat forward and grabbed his glass of wine. "NHL, NFL, MLB, NBA or collegiate?"
*****
"So?"
Well-used to Angela's one-word interrogation techniques, Brennan sat calmly at the table in the powder room and pulled out her comb, glancing over at her friend. "So, what?"
"So, what'd you guys do all day? Because if I know that man, and I think I do, you did not spend your whole day working. What time did he manage to drag you away from your book, and what did you do? Picnic, movie, slow lazy afternoon rolling around in bed together?"
"Actually, I didn't work at all today." She casually leaned back, waiting for a response.
Stunned, Angela dropped into the seat next to her. "Wait a minute. You, Temperance Brennan, did no work of any kind today?" She goggled at Brennan as she shook her head. "Okay – I think that must be one of the signs of the Apocalypse. Either that, or Booth is way more talented than even I thought…"
"It's true, Angela. We spent the entire day together, and I didn't do any work whatsoever. Booth came to my apartment first thing this morning to take me to Quantico."
"But I thought you said you didn't work – what were you doing there?" Mystified, Angela crossed her arms and stared demandingly at Brennan. "Out with it, honey. I want to know everything." She listened as Brennan described her day, going into detail about what they'd done and how she'd fared on the course. She watched her carefully while she related her adventure. Saw her cheeks flush and her eyes sparkle, and heard the excitement in her voice when she described her experience. Wisely she smothered a chuckle. Smart man. Oh smart, smart man. When Brennan finally began to wind down, Angela saw her moment and spoke. "Wow, that's one of the most romantic things anyone's ever done for you. He is really good."
"I don't understand, Angela." A frown briefly marred Brennan's brow. "There's nothing romantic about a muddy, grueling obstacle course."
"The hell there isn't, sweetie. Booth knows what you like, he knows who you are, and he took the time and made the effort to plan something that you, specifically, would enjoy. Not just enjoy, but something you would absolutely love." She fanned herself with her bag. "If that ain't romance, I don't know what is." Digging in her bag, she pried out her lipstick and began touching up her lips. "So that's why you were late?"
"Well, partly. We hit some terrible traffic on the way back to D.C."
"Only partly? Do tell - what else kept you?" When Brennan remained stubbornly silent, her smile widened until she was grinning like a fool. "Ah, so that's why you were late. I should've known. Mr. F-B-yootiful-Eyes can't keep his hands off you." She managed to avoid crowing in triumph, yet couldn't help but preen a bit. "I love it! And I'd imagine you love it, too, don't you?"
"I'm not going to talk about this, Angela. It's just sex…"
"Well, I'm betting it's really, really, really amazing sex. After all, you're sleeping with a guy who's hotter than a nuclear bomb. All that Booth flesh has gotta have an effect on you." She knew it did. In fact, she would bet her next tequila bender that her friend was beginning to admit that she felt more for Booth than just physical attraction. Finally she relented, seeing that she wasn't going to get anything more from her. "Okay, here." She pulled out her compact and handed it to her. "You can use this to cover that up."
"What am I supposed to cover?" She turned toward the mirror to study her reflection. The minute she saw it, she was back there again. Back on the street, pinned to the wall with Booth's mouth on her throat. The marks he'd left weren't overly vivid, but there was no mistaking them for anything but what they were. A stamp, a brand. An undeniable mark of possession. Her fingers lightly traced the area of reddened skin. Part of her wanted to dismiss it as irrelevant. Another part of her wanted to resent it, and resent him. But a small, guilty part of her thrilled to the sight of it, the sight of this tangible evidence of his desire for her. That part of her feared, and wanted, and waited. Automatically she smoothed on the powder, watching as the marks faded. But she knew they were still there. An invisible ink that burned her skin and reminded her just how risky their relationship might become. And how risky it already was. A look of grim determination settled on her face. She was up to the challenge – she could handle herself. She quickly snapped the case shut and handed it to Angela. "Are you ready? I'd like to go back to the table now."
"Sure, honey, let's go knock our dates out with our pulchritude."
*****
By the time they threaded their way back to the table, the appetizers had been served, and it was clear from the raised voices at the table that a heated discussion was under way. Angela walked up behind Hodgins and threaded her hands through his curls. "Now now, boys – play nice. Do you two need a time out?"
Booth ushered Brennan to her chair, smiling easily. "Nope, we're fine, Angela. No problem here."
"Like hell there isn't!" Incensed, Hodgins took a healthy swig of his wine. "Booth's dissing the Capitols star forward. Man, no one can touch Backstrom this year, and you know it!"
Casually stirring the scotch he'd ordered, Booth shrugged and smirked condescendingly at the feisty scientist. "If you say so…"
Brennan looked from Booth to Hodgins. "I don't want to say I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm confused…"
"It's hockey, Sweetie. Don't even bother trying to understand." She turned and addressed the table at large. "Attention, men – the women are now at the table, and all meaningless sports talk will cease. Ooh, Cajun Fries – try these, Bren, they're really good."
They worked their way through several bottles of wine and numerous different dishes, the conversation swirling from work to art to current events. The music swirled and grew, and shortly after Booth excused himself from the table for a moment, Hodgins pulled Angela away for a dance. Brennan watched them, intrigued by their closeness, amazed at how comfortable they appeared. She felt a soft, liquid pull in her chest when Hodgins cupped Angela's face and place a quiet, tender kiss on her lips. They were beautiful together. They laughed one moment, sparred the next, but always turned to each other in the end. She was so absorbed in her study of them that she failed to notice that Booth had returned until something soft stroked her cheek. Startled, she turned her head and was instantly swamped by the lovely fragrance of the rose he held. Her hand automatically reached out and curled around the stem. "Booth – where did you get this?"
"I noticed a flower store around the corner – the roses in the window were beautiful." His blunt fingers stroked the creamy petals as his eyes locked on hers. "The color reminded me of your skin."
Her heart leapt in her chest at his words. "Booth…"
"You don't realize how beautiful you are, do you? It's not just on the outside, either. You're beautiful inside and out. You know, sometimes I look at you and I can't even breathe." He draped his arm around her, pulling them closer together. "You feel so good near me. Just to have you right here, with me?" His eyes crackled with intensity. "It's perfect. Everything seems better when you're with me."
She opened her mouth to speak again and his lips were on hers, gentle and yet strong, hard and yet soft. Her eyes blinked shut and she gave herself over to the moment completely. The room, the people, the music, everything simply disappeared. When he pulled her toward him, she braced her hands on his thighs and leaned over, deepening the kiss, her tongue and lips demanding more and more from him. Slowly, so slowly, they pulled apart, yet so close, so close that it was still just the two of them. His eyes were everything. Kindness and desire, caring and need. It was too much; too much for her. It was a flood of emotion she couldn't control. She had to regain control. She managed to smile and trailed her fingers to the inside of his thigh, pleased and relieved by his answering rumble. Her eyes and fingers spoke volumes as she drew the tip of one finger along him, and then cupped him boldly before he could stop her.
"Bones…God, Bones…" His teeth gritted, he tried to focus on her, tried not to lose control. They were in a public place – not the best spot for this particular type of torment. "Bones, stop."
"Okay, who called 'Grope your Partner Hour' and didn't tell us?" Angela plopped into her seat, smiling playfully at them. "Quick, Jack, we're late. Come here and grab me."
Still surreptitiously stroking him under the table, Brennan turned innocent eyes on her friend. "I don't know what you're talking about, Angela. We're just sitting here, enjoying the music."
Booth merely closed his eyes, praying for strength. A particularly strong pass of her fingers set off an answering shudder, and he gulped convulsively.
"Listen, Brennan, don't try to fool me." Angela leaned forward on her elbows. "I've played with Hodgins in restaurants before, and I know exactly what it looks like."
Hodgins rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, laughing helplessly. "Ange!"
"God just strike me down right now…" Booth prayed in earnest.
"So what if I am?" Brennan gave Booth one last squeeze before casually reaching for her drink. "We both have very strong sexual appetites, and that necessitates much more frequent and intense contact than a normal couple. For example, I'm sure I make him orgasm harder and longer than his previous partners, and I know I keep him much more satisfied."
Ignoring the hysterical laughter from across the table, Booth shoved his chair back and tossed down his napkin. Grabbing Bones' wrist and tugging her up, he pulled her after him. "Okay, we're dancing now, enough talking, let's go." He spun her out onto the dance floor, holding her close, both for cover and because he just wanted her against him. "Bones, what the hell was that? Why did you say that?"
She blinked at him in surprise, but answered promptly. "Why not? If it's true, why is it such a big deal?"
"Because it's private," he ground out tersely. "Because my orgasms are my own. I can't believe we're actually discussing this…"
She smiled wickedly and leaned even closer. "Well, you know, Booth, they're not just yours. A part of every one is mine, too."
The roaring in his head increased, and his eyes narrowed when he realized what she'd said. Without conscious thought, he backed her into a dark corner, bringing her up hard against him. "Watch it, Temperance…"
Bullheaded, she pushed him for an answer. "I want to know why you're so determined to keep your orgasms a secret, Booth. We're all sexually active adults, and Angela is always saying provocative things." Her expression changed; a slight flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. "Is it because they're not great, and you don't want anyone to know?"
"No, that's not the reason. You want to know why? I'll tell you why." He kissed her again, hot and heavy and ferocious, until he forced a desperate groan from her. "I don't want to tell anyone about them because they're fan-fucking-tastic, and I'm not about to share with anyone."
"You don't want to share them?" she managed, her knees nearly knocking from the passion he was inciting with his actions and words.
"No, Bones. Share you. I'm not about to share you with anyone."
"I don't belong to you, Booth – I thought I made that clear." She made as if to push away from him, but he only tightened his grip and kissed her again, their mouths tangling and twisting, the open desire flooding their bodies until they were both panting against each other.
He groaned, the craving he felt for her almost overwhelming. "I have news for you, Bones. When I'm inside you, you're mine. And don't bother getting all up in arms, because it goes both ways." He smiled seductively at the sudden flash of understanding in her eyes. "Get it? You own me when we're making love – I belong to you. And you belong to me. That's what it's all about, what we do when we're alone. So don't even pretend that you don't know it, because you do."
"That's not true," she breathed, confusion welling up in her. He didn't seem angry, but he wasn't exactly happy, either.
He continued as if she hadn't even spoken, the warm, loving fire of his gaze heating her from the inside out, somehow keeping her anger at bay and silencing her. "The things we whisper in the dark to one another. The things no one else has a right to know. The things we say and do that strip us bare. They're ours. No one else's. The tears you shed when I'm inside you. The way you bring me to my knees. Those things belong to us."
They stared at each other for a long, silent moment, neither able to speak. The thing they'd avoided discussing was out in the open now. And neither one was prepared to deal with it. The band began their next song, and Booth was brought back to the present by the sound. Fighting his needs, he managed to loosen his hold on her, and began moving her around the floor again.
"Booth?"
"Shh. I requested this song. Remember it?" He circled her slowly, his intense stare piercing her defenses. "From that first night…"
"I…'These arms of mine.'" She felt like she was in a trance, like he was hypnotizing her with his eyes and his caressing, stroking hands. Unable to look at him anymore, she turned her face and rested her head on his shoulder. "I remember." It had all seemed so simple then. She'd wanted, and had acted on it. No hesitation, no doubt, no emotions to complicate anything. Now everything was so difficult. Not Booth himself. He was still wonderful. But everything else was so hard. She just wasn't good at this. But he was giving her this moment, and she'd take it. She just needed to calm down. Hadn't she told herself she could do this? Everything would be all right. She'd make sure of it. Calmer, she closed her eyes and let Booth and the song take her where they wanted.
They drifted lazily back and forth, but all too soon the last notes faded. The next song had already started when Booth felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned with a snarl, intending to send whoever the hell it was packing, only to see Angela and Jack dancing next to them. "Hey."
"Mind if we cut in? I haven't danced with you since the Christmas party, and I want to see if you're actually as good a dancer as I remember. Besides, Jack desperately wants to ask Brennan a work question - ugh - and he made me promise him that he could. Whadda ya say, Booth?"
"He couldn't help but smile at her engaging manner. "I don't know. What do you think, Bones? Wanna switch off for a dance?"
She didn't. Suddenly she didn't want to let him out of her sight, but she couldn't see a way out of it. "All right." They switched, and she watched him move away from her with Angela. She wondered at the sudden tightness in her chest, but realized with a start that Hodgins was talking, and hastily began listening to him. It was several minutes later when they were discussing Zach's latest crazy idea that she felt the hair on her neck prickle. Before they'd even turned in a complete circle she craned her neck around, already knowing what she'd see. He was watching her intently as he danced with Angela, his attention focused completely on her. If there had been a thousand people in the room she would have felt like she was alone with him. She didn't care if anyone noticed. She kept dancing with Hodgins. She watched Booth. And she wondered.