A/N: first i wanna say thank you for the lovely reviews you've left for the last story! Always makes me happy!

So there's this song from '84 I really like. It's kind of a guilty pleasure… :D It's called "Zu nah am Feuer" (Too close to the fire) by Stefan Waggershausen & Alice. The lyrics are quite poetic and very vivid, although I understand only half of it, the rest is Italian. :D It's about two people who are lovers and, driven by the rush of danger, secrety fall for each other at night and decide to face and fight their fears. There's a part of the chorus (a very rare case in which I find the German more pleasing than the English btw)

So nah am Feuer, so nah am Tabu

Wir küssen die Nacht, nur ich und du.

Ich bin dein dunkler Cherubim, du die Sphinx im schwarzen Kleid,

wir sind beide bereit, wir sind

zu nah am Feuer.

which loosely translates to:

So close to the fire, so close to the taboo,

we're kissing the night, just me and you.

I'm your dark cherub, you're the sphinx dressed in black,

we're ready, we're too close to the fire.

and it reminded me not only of B&B, but also of a very particular scene. You name it: the ending of 5x05 (Night at the Bones Museum). Again, I felt that I should fix/prolong the ending. Definitely M-rated! Let me know what you think about it please. :)

It was gone. Vanished. Cause of death: The whole effin' squint-squad.

He could create an album: Lost moments of Dr Temperance Brennan and Special Agent Seeley Booth. There were so many by now. Moments that were interrupted by cases or ringing cellphones or one of the said squints. Moments in which they perceived the tension, but they didn't want to jeopardize their partnership - so neither of them acted, and it slipped away.

He was sure that he would have dared to act right now. That she would have let him, because she was the one who initiated it by repeating what he had said earlier. What goes on between us, that should just be ours. Not only did she repeat it, but she showed him that she understood it, felt sorry and acted upon it. That was a rare combination and it had to mean something.

But it was gone and there was nothing he could do about it.

He couldn't focus on her speech because his mind was clouded with the feeling of her soft skin and her silken hair against his fingertips as he brushed it from her shoulder. His hands still prickled, longing for that sweet contact just the way his eyes longed for the sight of her exposed skin. There was no flashy necklace gracing her cleavage tonight. One low cut gown was all it took to accentuate her delicate frame and to draw his attention to her smooth milky skin. He wanted nothing more than to brush his lips ever so softly over the exposed swell of her breasts while he'd entangle his fingers in her curls.

As she spoke, her eyes kept wandering around the room, but they always landed back on him. He was her fixed point, the second part of the center, the yin to her yang. The sensual heat radiating from her eyes didn't escape his attention, it crept under his skin, made him believe that their moment still had a pulse and could be resuscitated.

He knew very well that she wasn't as oblivious as the others assumed her to be. Unwittingly, she was a brilliant actress. An innocent 'I don't know what that means' was her catchphrase. And even though she was groping in the dark a lot of times, she still managed to make people believe that she understood even less, so they'd leave her be, alone in her own little scientific world, inside her comfort zone, where no one could hurt her.

For the rest of the night he wanted to be her silent observer. He followed her like a shadow, filing every tiny hint of her that proved that she still believed in their moment, too. He was a gambler, she had her tells. She couldn't fool him.

It was a dance. Close to the edge. Right under the eyes of their colleagues, but probably too obvious to notice. It was risky business though - he acted like a desperado looking for a thrill. Tonight, they were superhuman. Invulnerable. He was a cherub, guarding their heavenly piece of Eden. She was the sphinx. A riddle. Unsolvable for everyone except him. He knew the answers to her unspoken questions and her downfall freed them both. A yearning look here, a longer than necessary lasting touch there, each ignited a hot glowing spark of desire.

He wanted to see that ruby again, he told her. She took his hand, guiding him away from the crowd - men in tuxedos, prim and proper, women dressed up to the nines, holding champagne flutes, entangled with each other in their own mating rituals.

He let her lead him down the stairs, carefully watching how her curls draped themselves elegantly above her shoulders, bouncing slightly with every step she took. Waves of auburn silk gracing alabaster velvet, setting fuel to the spark.

All the time she felt his eyes on her skin, devouring and piercing.

As they made their way past the big Horus statue, she glanced at him over her shoulder. Her pupils were dilated, transforming her eyes into dark lust-filled pools. Her tongue darted out of her mouth and traced the curve of her upper lip. It was his undoing. It was oxygen. The last component of the combustable triad that finally set them on fire.

He yanked her around and pulled her flush against his body, holding her tight when he shoved them both into the dark niche between Anubis and a mural relief. His leg parted her thighs as she swung her arms around his neck. Pinning her to the wall, his lips crashed down on hers. His tongue followed the same path as hers before, and when she opened her mouth slightly to welcome him, they got lost in each other.

Rough fingertips trailed eagerly over smooth skin, making their way around her waist as she arched her back, creating some space between her body and the wall so he could unzip her dress. Fabric slid down, released gorgeously rounded breasts that begged him for attention. The rhythmical movements of his leg between her thighs made her dizzy, longing for more.

Nimble fingers unbuttoned his jacket, tugged at his dress shirt and undid his zipper.

Impatient hands fumbled around with her gown until the fabric pooled at their feet. She kicked off her heels and wrapped her long legs around his waist as he lifted her up. Three layers of fabric kept them apart, yet he felt her heat damp against his own crotch.

One hand tangled into her hair, the other squeezed her buttock before his fingers moved slowly closer to her center, pulling the lace of her panties aside. She moaned softly in response and let her head fall into the crook of his neck, her teeth grazing the skin beneath his ear as he slid two skilled fingers inside her.

The distant sound of approaching footsteps caused them to pause, breaths were hold, movements stilled. Momentarily - because when he saw the lust and desire in her glazed eyes he couldn't resist to taunt her. He brought his fingers up, dripping wet, and circled them around her rosy nipple before he sucked it into his mouth to taste her all over again on his tongue. She hissed in arousal, fingers clenching into the cotton of his shirt. The risk of getting caught in the act was a turn-on. Part of the experience.

A voiceless whisper, asking if she was scared.

A purred mewl as a response. Feline. She understood the deeper meaning of his question. No, she wasn't. She had him, her protector, her guardian angel.

The footsteps faded away, and her mouth fell on his. Her hand clamped his neck, her thumb tracing his strong jawline as their tongues fought for dominance.

This was theirs. This was going on between them for years, always existent, albeit never lived out. Until now.

His hands freed his member, hard and throbbing in gleeful anticipation. He kept her in position with his body weight as he slid inside her. Tight hot wetness enveloped him. Each thrust was purposeful. Hissed curses, groaned desire, whispered promises, frenzied ecstasy.

Calloused fingers parted smooth luscious lips, played with her tongue.

Delicate hands roamed his upper body and craved skin contact.

He buried himself deep inside her, bringing them closer push by push. They went flying over the edge together, sealing their fulfilled destiny with a passionate kiss.

He helped her adjust her gown, she fixed his bow tie. If it weren't for messy hair, smeared makeup, rosy-flushed skin and that after-sex-glow on their faces, it could have been a retake of the scene from earlier.

As the noise of the party reached their ears, she glanced at him, not willing to reveal their secret to anyone, but very eager to finally get him out of this tux any time soon. He smiled wickedly, grabbed her hand and they escaped through the halls of the museum like Jack and Rose through the engine room of the Titanic. Their spark had eventually turned into a fire, and with all that oxygen around, it could only grow bigger.