Author's note: So sorry for the delay in posting this. It was a lot harder to write and get right (!) than I expected. Hope you enjoy. Don't forget to rate and review. Danke.

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Brennan paced back and forth between the kitchen and the front door, every few seconds looking up at the clock. She had been doing this since the clock struck eight on the nose, waiting for Booth to show up for the sex. She tried not to pace. Each time she went into the kitchen she tried to give herself a concrete task, sort the newspapers, clean out her purse, but each time she abandoned the task even before beginning it. She had to admit, she was nervous. She had thought about coming home a bit early and taking a bath and fixing herself up a little, but that seemed contrary to what they were trying to do. It's just sex, she thought for the millionth time. Yeah, hot hot sex with a hot hot man. She brought her hands up to the side of her head and squeezed. Please. Stop thinking that.

She looked at the clock again. Quarter past eight, she noted grimly. He was definitely late. How can he be late? she thought. He knows how important this is to me. And besides, he's always on time. Early even. Wait, maybe he's not coming. Oh, no. Maybe he's changed his mind. With the rush of these thoughts she went from irritated to enraged to terrified. She sighed and made herself sit down at the kitchen table. I'll be glad when this is over and things can get back to normal. Well, normal and pregnant.

There was a soft knock on the door that broke her reverie. She jumped up, startled. Eyes fixed on the door she slowly walked over and opened it. She could hear every sound as if it were amplified ten thousand times, her quiet breath, the shuffle of her shoes against the tile, the rush of air the door made as she opened it wide.

Booth stood motionless on the threshold, a handful of daisies held in front of him. "Sorry, I'm late, but I stopped to get these for you." He thrust them over to her forcefully, practically throwing them into her hands. He looked at the floor and then back up. "I know it's just..." his voice lowered, "sex, but I thought it might be a nice gesture of, uh, friendship." He stood up straighter, visibly relieved at having completed this self-imposed task.

"Thank you, Booth. These are lovely. I'll put them in water right away. Come in." She was thankful to have something to do and busied herself looking for a proper vase. She settled on a small porcelain one she had gotten in central China when she was excavating a mass grave. She filled the vase with water and set the pretty yellow flowers on the table.

Booth stood just inside the door as if coming all the way into the apartment was somehow dangerous. He spied the nearest kitchen table chair and made a beeline for it.

"Would you like some tea?" Brennan asked, turning to the stove to set up the kettle.

"Got anything stronger?"

"Oh," Brennan said, surprised, turning to him. "Wine? Beer? I have both."

"Harder?"

"Whiskey?"

"Perfect."

Brennan walked into the living room and fetched a bottle of Scotch. "Someone left me this as a thank you last year for my work identifying the remains of early European settlers in an Asian tomb . I haven't tried it. Is this a good one?" She held out the bottle to him.

"Talisker. Hell yes. It's one of the finest Scotches ever made. Island single malt." He took the bottle out of her hand and looked closer at the label. "This is 20 year old whiskey. Open 'er up."

Brennan took two juice glasses down from the cabinet, sat down at the table and poured them both a shot.

They held up the glasses and looked at each other. "Here's to a successful fertilization!" Brennan stated a little too enthusiastically.

"Slainte," Booth said, downing the whiskey.

"Prost," Brennan replied and followed his lead.

Suddenly they both laughed. "This is crazy, right?" Brennan said. "That we're doing this?"

"Definitely. It is definitely the craziest thing I've ever done."

They fell silent. An uncomfortable silence, like a couple on the verge of a huge fight, or a child right before he bursts into tears.

"Another shot?" he asked, breaking the quiet. He held the bottle out.

"Sure, but just one more. I don't want you falling asleep on me or not performing."

"I assure you that won't be a problem." He poured them each one more shot and they downed it in silence. The time had come. There was no more stalling.

"Ready?" she said, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Yes," he replied, his own heart beating so loud he was sure she could hear it.

They both stood, walking into the bedroom with so much trepidation it looked like they were on their way to the electric chair. Wordlessly they parted and went to opposite sides of the bed and started to undress in the manner they had before. Same rules. Same restrictions. He in brown t-shirt (Led Zeppelin) and striped boxers, she in the black rayon (non-wrinkle) dress she had worn to work.

As Brennan took off her shoes and took her hair down out of a ponytail, she thought again about protecting his heart. I must not forget that, she thought. Try, try, try to keep it as businesslike as possible. It's the only way. Protect his heart. Protect his heart. She repeated this to herself like a mantra over and over until it suddenly occurred to her it wasn't his heart she was trying to protect. She sat down on the bed hard, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

Booth, feeling weary at having to go through this again, all the pretending, sat on the side of the bed undressing, his heart and body veering back and forth between excitement and dread. What if she doesn't respond like she did last night? I don't think I can take that kind of coldness," he thought. As he took his pants off he made himself a promise. Tonight, if he could arrange it, would be the best night of sex Dr. Temperance Brennan had ever had.

"Lights on or off?" he asked, as both of them stood facing each other across the bed, appropriate clothes removed.

Her eyes flickered up to his, remembering how they had looked at each other last night. "Off I think, " she murmured, slipping into bed.

He switched off the lamp and moved in next to her. They lay for a moment, eyes adjusting to the dark, the only light coming from the picture window. With the curtains open, moonlight flooded the room, illuminating everything in a soft blue glow.

He turned to her. She lay, unmoving, staring straight up at the ceiling. They lay like that for a long time, listening to each other breathing, to the sounds in the apartment, to the sounds coming in from outside world. His eyes drank her in, every inch of her, from her long dark hair reaching up and over the edge of the bed, past the curve of her forehead, over her parted lips, over the curve of her breasts and to where the rest of her body disappeared under the comforter. He knew it before, knew it from the beginning really, if he wanted to admit it, that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. There was a lushness about her that she herself couldn't see. Even without the moonlight he knew she glowed.

She could feel his eyes on her, feel them travel over her body. It made her skin flush and she hoped he couldn't see it. She tried hard not to move a single muscle. She was sure if she moved her body would betray her. She wanted him so badly.

"Hey," he whispered softly, "Are you ready?"

She turned to him so they were facing each other. Her face was hidden now by the shadows and she was grateful, because she was sure it was all there on her face as plain as day. She couldn't pretend she didn't want him.

Her body, without her mind's consent, leaned into him and captured his mouth with her own. She heard him breathe in sharply, surprised, then return the kiss, his mouth as soft and gentle as her own. He tasted like whiskey and chewing gum and something else. Something familiar. Her hand reached out tentatively, brushing his shoulder to wrap around the back of his neck, drawing him further into the kiss. His arms reached over and under her pulling her to him, the space between them compressed slowly like the air out of a balloon. Her hands wrapped in his hair and as she flushed against him she could feel how hard he was for her already.

He pressed her against him so tightly he was afraid he was going to crush her. His hands explored her back and shoulders, her neck where the flesh disappeared into the hairline. He inhaled, her soft lavender scent flooding his senses. The kiss deepened, their tongues intertwined, mouths fused together. He broke away, sucking gently on her bottom lip, his hand coming up to cup her face. Her hands moved from his chest, feeling all the hard edges of his muscles, to his nipples rigid against his tight t-shirt . He growled into her mouth, his hands moving lower to clutch at her hip.

Slightly, imperceptibly, she realized they had begun to move together. Languidly the rhythm had begun, she up, him down. Him up, her down, like palms of the hands rubbing together. He could feel every curve of her as she moved against him. The way her breasts crushed against him on every down stroke and rose with every up one. She felt him grow harder and harder, her hands aching to touch him, to run her fingers along the outline of him against his boxers. Her panties were already soaked and clinging to her, her own musky scent enveloping them both.

"Booth. Touch me." She didn't specify where, but arched herself against him. He got the idea. He rolled on top of her and propped himself up on his elbows, his hands free to cup her full breasts. He massaged them gently in circles, his fingers coming up to tenderly pinch the nipples through her dress. He dropped his lips to the topmost part of her cleavage, his nose nudging between. She reached and pulled one side of the dress down to expose a lacy cream-colored bra. His lips trailed over the edge of the bra with tiny, soft kisses. His fingers brushed over the stiff peaks of her nipples, and back to the undersides of her breasts, never settling, always teasing. Brennan bowed into him, aching for a firm touch. His hands pushed her breasts together, his lips grazing across the nipples now side by side. He heard her breath quicken, felt her rolling under him, dying for a small release.

He sat up on his knees over her and pulled his t-shirt up over his head. Brennan shimmied out of her dress, leaving her bra and panties on. They both paused, suspended in air, in awe of each other and the moment. Brennan's eyes were wide as saucers as she took in Booth above her, looming like a god, his shoulders wide and imposing. She reached for him, but he captured her hands in his, lowering himself to leave a trail of kisses down her firm abdomen, releasing her hands only when his lips touched the edge of her panties. She held onto his shoulders, breath sucked as he teased his lips along the skin at the edge of the lace. He moved further south to the top of her mound, taking her into his mouth through the fabric, sucking lightly. Her eyes closed as she felt herself tremble under his touch. He worked his way back up, his tongue trailing, interspersed with tiny kisses until he reached her mouth, kissing her deeply and soulfully, wrapping his arms around her like a cloak.

Her whole body was soft and pliant, putty in his hands. He reached under her with one hand, cupping her ass and grinding her into him. His cock, straining against his boxers was nudged between her legs, dying to cut all this foreplay nonsense and enter her. She ground her hips down on his cock, her breath coming in short bursts, her arms locked around his shoulders, her eyes never leaving his.

"Take off my panties," she gasped, leaning her forehead against his, gyrating into him, loving the feel of his cock pressing at her womanhood.

"No," he said forcefully, trying to keep himself in check. He would like nothing better than to be inside her right now, riding her off to orgasm after orgasm, but there were a few things he wanted to do first. He sat up on his knees over her. "Take your bra off." Without a word, she reached behind her back and unsnapped the bra throwing it over the side of the bed.

"Beautiful," he said as her breasts broke free and into the palms of his hands. He fell on them like a hungry man, devouring every inch of them, but carefully avoiding the nipples until she was practically bursting at the seams.

"Booth. Booth," she keened, her voice raspy and full of need.

"Patience, Temperance. Patience."

At the sound of her given name, she fell apart completely. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, her hips arching into his, grinding herself into him. This was more intense than anything she had ever experienced before. This wasn't mere sex. This was something else entirely. She ceased making any coherent sounds, just moaned as he circled her nipples, never satisfying.

"Please. Please."

"You want it?"

"Oh, God, yes."

He fell on her nipples, sucking in deeply, his hands coming up to cup them. "Oh, oh," Brennan cried out. She felt so close to orgasm and she hadn't even taken her panties off yet.

She pushed him off her with as much force as she could. He flew to the side of the bed, looking up at her quizzically. She stood up on the bed and ripped off her panties. She turned to him. "Take your boxers off now. I mean it." Her voice had passed mere passion and was verging on desperation.

He smiled wickedly up at her. "So forceful, aren't we?" He lifted his hips up and eased off the shorts slowly, exposing his long, thick, perfectly formed, and very hard cock. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. It was more beautiful than she had imagined.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. She looked like an Amazon standing over him, her breasts firm and high, with nipples rigid and standing at attention. Her trim bush called to him. He sat up and with one quick move, latched his mouth between her legs. She gasped, surprised, then gasped again at the intensity of his mouth sucking on her pussy. She tasted so delectable, like a pear, maybe. A perfect pear. His hands came around to her ass, kneading the two cheeks together as he feasted on her.

Her hands wrapped in his hair. She ground against him, feeling herself close, so close to falling over the edge. She felt his fingers leave the cheeks of her ass and travel lower until his hands lay on either side of her pussy. He spread her until she felt completely exposed, completely undone, and chose that moment to suck in herclit and slip two fingers hard into her pussy. She exploded into his mouth, clutching at him, trying not to fall over, off the bed, into oblivion. He held her tight, his mouth fused to her, sucking in all the juices she had to offer.

He removed his mouth as she calmed, lowering her down to him. He moved from his knees, and sat, bringing her straight down to straddle him. Now they were face to face as she sunk down on him. He filled her completely and they stayed like that for a moment. They looked straight at each other, faces almost touching. She was covered in a slight sheen of sweat and his mouth glistened with her juices. He looked down at her lips as if he wanted to kiss them but wasn't sure he should. His eyes flickered back up to hers. There was no pretense in her eyes, her eyes were as naked as she was. He reached up, capturing her head in his hands and her mouth in his. They began moving together, slowly at first and then with more intensity.

They both had never experienced such a moment before, and both seemed to grasp the enormity of it. Their bodies were on fire as he held her hips moving faster and faster in her. She bounced up and down on him, drawing as much length as she could before sinking back onto the very base of where their bodies met. His hands tangled in her hair, drawing her head back harshly as he started to pump into her harder and harder. She cried out, on the brink of something big. He moved his hands to her face and finally to her lips, his thumb trailing the edge of her bottom lip. She drew his thumb into her mouth, sucking on it hard, lost now, as she wildly rode him. They both cried out, him first, then her as the feeling overtook them and they came together, crashing on each other like waves on the rocks.

"Oh baby, baby," he cried out, burying himself between her breasts as he came down. They rode down the mountain slowly, still moving together, neither wanting to stop completely. Finally they were still, him still lodged deep in her, both of them clutching each other for dear life. Wrapped around each other, they dared not move and break the magic. But finally he pulled back.

"You should probably lie down, right?" he said quietly into her ear. "Give the little guys the best chance at breaching the defenses?" She nodded, unable to speak, disengaging herself to lie on her side. He moved next to her, spooning her, his hand coming up to cup her breast. She felt him snuggle up to her. "Comfortable?" he asked. She nodded again, her hand coming up to cover his own. She felt so blown away but what just happened and so scared to admit it. If he felt one tenth of what she did, she knew she was in serious trouble. She felt him nuzzle his nose in her hair and sigh. She felt her eyes grow heavier and heavier.

They drifted in and out of sleep, locked together, until she woke only a short while longer to feel him hard and pressing against her. She smiled sleepily at him over her shoulder. He was awake and looking hopefully at her.

"I suppose we could give it another go-around. Just to be sure," she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I was so hoping you'd say that."

As his hand slipped further down her abdomen to her nether regions, she sighed contentedly. This was something she could get used to.