Booth whistled softly to himself as he made his way back toward the bathroom, but he stopped short at what he saw when he got there. Immediately frozen, all he could do was lean in the doorway and stare at Brennan.

Steam from her recent shower heated the small room and made everything feel immediately intimate. Brennan stood in front of the mirror, dressed from shoulders to toes in a silky navy robe, gently tied at her waist. The dark fabric contrasted against her pale skin, and she tilted her head to the side as she used a blow dryer on her hair and brushed out the long lengths.

She caught him watching her and looked away, but then quickly looked back when she realized he was actually staring at her. Practically transfixed, his face was almost boyishly earnest, and with his hands in his pockets, he looked very sweet and shy. "What, Booth?" she laughed a bit nervously. "Haven't you ever seen a woman dry her hair?"

"Well…sure," he finally shrugged a shoulder. "But I've never seen you do it, and…" He actually blushed a bit, which made Brennan flush as well. He'd seen her after showers before, sometimes in the mornings and sometimes like this, at night before bed, and he knew that they almost always made her so…rosy and pretty, her natural skin tone so gorgeous and fresh. But he'd never quite seen her like this, drying her hair, getting ready for bed, and he'd just been stunned. It was intimate, and he'd wanted that for so long. He wanted her, this time with a subtle longing that felt achingly familiar—like beauty just out of reach, loveliness too good to be true, or happiness he didn't quite deserve.

He had to shake off his feelings of inadequacy, and he started by taking a step closer. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, and their eyes met in the mirror.

"May I?" he asked, his voice low. But she heard him over the hum of the hair dryer and relinquished her hold on it and the brush.

Standing in front of him, she clasped her hands against her stomach, watching him in the mirror as he stared at the back of her head. She smiled a bit when his tongue darted out between his lips in concentration. But when he tenderly began to run the brush through her mostly dried hair, running the dryer on a low heat, she bit back a moan and nearly leaned back against him.

It was sensual and comforting and an intimacy she'd always felt was impossible to achieve. The ability to trust someone with the little things and with so much more continued to click in her mind like mechanical gears. "Have you done this before?" she murmured, but he heard her and shook his head.

"No," was all he said before skimming his hand along the back of her neck and smoothing her hair down over one shoulder. Now almost totally dry, her dark hair gleamed and Brennan shivered at the feel of his fingers against her sensitive skin. She tilted her head to the side again to let her hair fall away from her body in dark waves. Booth tenderly pressed his lips against the skin beneath her ear, and she closed her eyes at the touch and the sincerity in his gaze through their reflection.

"You look really pretty, Bones," he complimented her and shut off the hair dryer. Then he loosely wrapped his arms around her waist, turning her to face him. Without shoes, he had to dip his chin a bit to maintain eye contact with her, and the dark blue of her robe made the blue of her eyes bright and entrancing. "I just think you're so pretty," his words ended on a soft breath, as if they'd escaped from his lungs without permission.

She flushed but kept her gaze locked with his as she let her hands rest on his chest. "Thank you," she replied, and her fingers traced over his jacket lapels.

Booth smiled at her words and then leaned down to press his lips against hers. Immediately her hands looped around his neck, and she arched up on her tiptoes to be closer to him. The silk of her robe slipped between his fingers as they kissed, and he rubbed her back in wide circles, smoothing his hands from her shoulders to her waist.

Brennan moaned sweetly and leaned into him, and Booth replied by backing her up toward the bathroom vanity. He hitched his hands on her hips and lifted her enough so she was sitting on the flat surface near her sink. It was his turn to moan when she grasped his arms and pulled him in to stand between her legs. Her robe inched up and revealed long bare legs, so pale and smooth. Booth knew they felt amazing when wrapped around his waist, and he murmured his approval as he opened his mouth against the fluttering skin of her throat. As his thumbs rubbed against her inner thighs, he kissed along the pale column of her neck and down to where her robe gaped open in invitation. The material was loose enough and yielded to him immediately, first falling off one shoulder, and then the other. Booth placed kisses over her collarbone and clavicle before he peeled her robe down to her waist and then stared down at her, entranced once again.

"So fucking pretty," he rasped, just before he sucked her nipples wetly into his mouth. Brennan's fingers plunged into his hair, and she held on against the sensations that threatened to overtake her. The way his lips wrapped around her sensitive breasts, licking and nipping and sucking with the most delicious pressure…she quickly realized she was chanting his name and wrapping her legs around his hips in an effort to get him closer.

He could have had her right there. He could have laid her flat on the vanity, peeled the robe from her body, unzipped his pants and taken her, thrusting inside until she came all over him and he exploded in her.

But he wanted more. He wanted special.

Lifting his head, he traced her tight nipples, wet and dark from his mouth and tongue. His breath was ragged, and he rested his forehead against hers for a second before putting his arms around her waist and lifting her up.

It wasn't often she let him carry her anywhere, but this time she did, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as he carried her toward their bed.

It wasn't often that she willingly laid flat on her back and let him undress her fully and then himself, but this time she did, content to watch as he bared himself to her gaze and her touch.

And when they were both completely naked, he covered her body with his. She shivered at the feel of all of him against all of her. Long and hard against soft and full. Tan and rough against pale and smooth. Vulnerabilities and strengths, visions of the future and memories of the past.

All of it combined as they kissed and touched and gasped and groaned. And when he finally slipped into her, they both froze, staring deep into one another's eyes, finding home and love and life. I know you, repeated, accepted, returned—all without words, all within the movements between their bodies started years before in a soft and sensual dance between two lovers who'd only just begun using their bodies to express it.

He made love to her over and over that night, reaching for her in the darkness, always pressing her deeply into the mattress and whispering his adoration for her. She could hardly believe it and yet, it was the thing she believed in most. She made love to him too, wrapping herself around him and letting him in, whispering her adoration for him. He could hardly believe it, and yet, it was the thing he believed in most.

-b&b-