An: Ha, well, I knew this was going to happen. I lied! :)

I found this song and the AUness just came over me and I busted this out. Sorry for that, but it's all Booth and Brennan and I'm just prolonging this song, so why the hell not?

I hope I'll go in order and writing the chapter for Come Back To Me by Trading Yesterday next, but who knows, I might just jump around and do what I WANT!

He :)

When it comes to men, it's known,
That I end up choosing wrong.
'Cause I always trip and fall.
The same old rock and repeat and go back.

How blind a girl can be,
To miss you hiding your ring.
Thought about everything,
I'm so naïve imagining all that.

Did it again, love, I got it all wrong.
But it felt so right, I can't believe it.
And all the mistakes that went on for too long,
Wish there was a way I could delete it.

-Did It Again (Shakira)

Her eyes opened and her sore muscles screamed as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Leaning down she pulled on her panties and the bra that had been passionately torn from her the night before, along with the t-shirt her bed partner had on before her eager fingers tore it over his head.

Stumbling into the bathroom, she turned the light on and squinted into the brightness. She rubbed her eyes and forced her pupils to adapt before she ran her fingers through her tousled hair and pulled the strands back to run her fingers over her neck.

She shivered as she remembered his lips moving where her fingers touched, softly sucking the skin at her pulse before he soothed the skin down with a pass of his tongue; his actions so gentle that no bruise was left against the tender flesh.

They had met last night, in the classy bar of the hotel that he was staying in, and the second their eyes had met there was a connection. Her best friend told her to go for it, and when he had came over to ask her if he could buy her something, she accepted his offer.

He was charming and kind, and respectful; not to mention drop dead gorgeous, and not once did he try to make a move on her.

He didn't get her drunk, he didn't slip anything into her drink, and he didn't try to fuck her in the bathrooms; he was the pure vision of a gentleman and the only time he touched her in the bar was when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side to send away an overly drunken man trying to push up against her.

He had invited her upstairs into his room; purely to get away from the night time crowd, and relocate to the porch attached to his room and she had agreed. The talked quietly and friendly with each other as they made their way up to the first floor and down the hall to his room.

His room was calming, and the soft blues and whites created almost holy air; especially with the god like creature removing his shoes and moving onto the balcony, holding the door open for her and smiling.

She followed him and settled in the chair beside him, taking the beer he offered her and sipping the refreshing golden liquid, as they talked about anything and everything under the sun.

He told her he had a son, and that he used to be married, but got divorced years ago; and since then, practically had his son torn out of his life. He told her that he just got back from Quantico and just accepted a job with the FBI here in D.C.

They had joked and laughed and she informed him about herself, and her role at the Jeffersonian, and as a bestselling author.

"You know," he whispered, looking over at her and smiling "I don't read enough in the first place, I think tomorrow I'll go out and find your novel and have a look at it."

"Yes, but by tomorrow, I won't be here to sign it," she retaliated, standing up and grabbing his empty beer bottle.

He followed after her and leaned against the opening of the door, watching her move through the hotel room before he muttered. "Not if you come back…"

Her shining blue eyes met his deep brown ones and she smiled, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest. "You want me to come back?"

"I see no reason why not," he reasoned, closing the door behind him as he moved further into the room and closer to her.

"I see a reason."

"Oh really? And why is that?"

She had advanced on him and moved her arms around his neck, pressing their bodies flush together before closing her lips over his and kissing him passionately, their tongues working to fight down the other before she pulled back breathless and whispered her words against his mouth. "Why come back when I can just stay and not go anywhere?"

She shivered again as her fingers passed over her neck and their passionate coupling flashed in a blur before her eyes; remember specifically his calloused hands and soft lips worshiping every inch of his skin, and the slow movements of their hips, rocking together like they were made of glass and bound to shatter any moment.

She remembered her crying his name, both a sin and a prayer on her lips, and she remembered his soft hand resting against her neck when she had broken, while his lips ghosted over her jaw, cheeks, eyes, nose and forehead.

Her teeth dug into her lips and she smiled as she walked from the bathroom and watched as the first rays of dawn brushed through the room, casting shadows against his muscles and turning him into this dark untouchable entity in the shining, bright room.

She moved back towards the bed, intending to move around to see his face before she noticed a shining object setting on the vanity, rage and sadness peeking deep in her gut when she picked up a wedding ring, far too large to be a woman's.

Angered she clenched the ring in her palm and turned to him, the word 'Liar' burning in her ears as she grabbed his stress ball sitting on the black wood and chucked it at his sleeping form.

"What the hell?" he bellowed, sitting straight up and rubbing his head. "What was that for?"

"Because you failed to explain this," she argued, holding up the ring. "I thought you said you were divorced."

"I am."

"Legally or just to yourself?"

"It's not what you think."

"What I think is that you're still married and since your wife didn't put up with you, you went to the closest bar possible to have some woman have sex with you," she screamed, huffing and slamming the ring down on the wood, before she sent off searching for her jeans. "And I can't believe I gave that to you."

"Temperance, just wait," he started, reaching down and pulling his boxers on before he stood up, and his shirt was thrown over his face.

"No. You're a cheater, and a liar," she hissed, pulling her own shirt on and stalking towards the door.

He ran after her and grabbed her waist, turning her quickly and pressing her back against the door, his hips pressing into hers and pulling an unexpected whimper from her lips. "Listen to me," he muttered, his hand coming up to brush her hair behind her ear. "I'm divorced. I have no wife, and you are not my mistress. I had no intentions of sleeping with anyone last night; I was only there to have a few drinks cheaper than the mini bar in here. That was until I saw you."

"Then you wanted to have sex with me?"

"No," he laughed, resting his forehead against hers. "No, no, no. I'm not a one night stand kind of guy. There was just something about you that just sparked my interest."

"Like what?"

"I can't explain it," he whispered, brushing his fingers through her hair. "I just…saw you and found it hard to breathe, and the first thing I thought was 'Wow, she's beautiful'. Then once you gave me that siren smile I knew I had to talk to you. To tell you the truth Temperance, I have felt more in one night with you than I had in years," he confessed, settling his hand against her cheek. "And I promise that I would never lie to you."

"Then whose ring is that?" she asked, her hand wrapping softly around his wrist.

"My father's," he answered, stepping from the door and pulling her with him. "It was in his will for me."

"Wow. I'm a bitch," she whispered, covering her eyes with her hand until he chuckled and brought both of his hands to frame her jaw, tilting her gaze upwards.

"No you're not. Maybe you just like me more than you think."

"I thank you for rubbing it in," she muttered sarcastically, leaning forward and resting her head against his chest. "I'm so sorry."

His arms circled her and he lifted her into the air, sitting on the edge of the bed with her in his lap. He brushed his fingers through her hair and across her cheek, before he brought their lips together, and he smiled when her arms tightened around his neck. "Temperance, its fine. I understand."

She whined and sat up, kissing his forehead softly. "Well, that's for hitting you with your stress ball," she whispered, settling against his chest. "How can I make it up to you?"

"You have nothing to make up," he assured, kissing her forehead again and again. "It's alright."

"Mmm but what if I want to make it up to you?" she muttered huskily, pushing him back against the bed and straddling his waist.

"Then who am I to stop you?" he asked, smiling and sharing a soft chuckle with her before he rose up on his elbow and cupped his hand around the side of her neck, lighting fire against her skin with his own before their lips collided together.