A/N: This idea popped into my head at work of all places.

Disclaimer: Nope, not yet.

GHMDGHMDGHMD

She could feel the rough graze of his stubble against her neck as he softly nibbled there. Her delicate fingers swam through his soft brown curls, over his head and down to the base of his neck, where his skin was warm. His breathing was slow and deep as his hands gripped her waist, moved up her back.

They kissed, hands roaming, for what seemed like hours. The only sounds were their breathing and the quiet rustle of clothing. Neither wanting the night to end, they took their time memorizing each other as if it were their only night together. Maybe it was.

They were in his office, it was late and most of the hospital staff had gone home for the day, save for those dedicated few who worked the night shift.

He moved to close the blinds, shutting them off from anyone who should happen by. He left the ones at the outer windows open though; a full moon shone through and a late-night downpour turned to music on the glass.

Her wide eyes searched his for something, for truth, for reassurance that this wasn't all a dream. She had loved before, lusted before, but this was beyond explanation. She wondered why it was so easy to be kissing him fiercely one moment, and be perfectly content gazing into his eyes the next.

He could look at her, into her, forever. She was an enigma, a paradox, a chameleon. Yes, she was the nice one, the friendly one, but she had a streak of passion that was hidden inside her as if she were a butterfly in a cocoon. He wondered why she felt she had to hide it. She could be as quick-witted as he, when the moment struck her. She was sexy and dangerous, while at the same time she was somehow pure and innocent.

She slipped off her shoes, unpinned her hair. He made her feel like a fire, a fairy, something wild, when all he had to do was look at her. She thought of herself this way in her most secret dreams, but never had a man made her imagination feel like reality. She came to him again and took his hands, carefully pulling him to the floor. She took his cane and laid it aside on his desk.

He felt like an awkward teenager around her, as if he'd never been with a woman before. When she reached out to unbutton his shirt, he didn't stop her, couldn't stop her. He let her hands roam across his shoulders, glide down to his biceps, finally linking her naked hands with his own.

She kissed him again, on his lips, his forehead, across his chest for a moment, and then she kissed the backs of his musician's hands. She wondered briefly if he'd ever had sex with anyone on his piano, and mused at the thought of cool, polished wood against her skin. Still gripping his hands, she stood up and smiled at this man whose heart pounded fierce underneath his own brand of armor.

He gazed at her as if she were a dream, and perhaps tonight she was. She was everything, every woman, every fairy tale creature, all wrapped up into one small package. His face displayed a shadow of the younger man he'd once been. Slowly, gently, without a word, she drew down her zipper, and for him alone she shed the red dress.