SAM + Booth!
"Ritual nudity?" Sam smirked. "You know, if Ruby had things her way, that'd probably be a reality. I'm sure there's some kind of Wiccan marriage ritual that involves half, if not all, attendees to strip their clothes off, paint blood all over themselves, and dance around naked for seven hours straight." Sam leaned to the side, shooting Booth a look that said that he was (mostly, because some of what he was saying was probably true) joking around. "I'm more impressed that my family has been so good about all this. I figured that I was gonna have to end up kicking my Dad or Dean out at some point, but they seem genuinely interested in seeing to it that all this goes down without anything chaotic happening. It's pretty nice, actually." Kind of. Even though Sam could tell that they were trying, it wasn't terribly difficult for him to notice that there was someone there who was trying a little too hard. At the thought of his brother, Sam's attention momentarily slid off his way. Sam spotted him wandering through the room, scooping up random bottles of alcohol. He couldn't help but let his jaw drop when he noted that one of the bottles was swept away just as Puck dropped it onto the table to reach for some fries. "The hell?" Frowning, Sam shook his head and looked back to Booth. Right. Dean was definitely...coping. In his own special way.
"Why not?" Sam asked, brows rising curiously. "Don't you want to know what it is that's got her all worried?" Sam knew that if he was in Booth's shoes, he'd want to get on reading those messages as soon as possible. It had to be something serious, right? Unless..."Maybe you shouldn't read the conversation. Maybe you should just..." Sam reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck, half shrugging. "Delete it all. Or, I dunno. Talk to her about it before you read it?"