"What is this stuff?" Brennan asked.

"It's called," Booth looked at the bottle, "Soju. Korean vodka."

"It'sh good," Brennan replied, slurring her words slightly. "Very smooth."

Booth and Brennan were sprawled on a sofa and chair in Brennan's living room in the middle of the worst heat wave DC had ever had. It was twilight, and the long hoped for cooling off that happens when the sun sets wasn't happening. In fact, it was hotter than it had been in the middle of the day. Fans were strategically placed around them.

Booth brought the bottle up to his eyes, squinting, examining the label carefully, "I think its 80 proof. Very strong. We gotta be careful, or we're gonna get drunk."

"Too late for that," Brennan chuckled, pouring them another shot. She held up her glass, "Here's to putting another one to bed," she said, referring to the latest case. They saluted each other and downed it in one gulp. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused as she looked at him. "Booth," she said, lifting her damp hair from the nape of her neck, "You are one hell of a partner."

"Right back at cha," Booth replied, rising woozily to his feet, fanning himself. "It's hotter than Hades in here. Mind if I open another window?"

She waved him over to a nearby window while she poured another shot. "Help yourself. No central air. That's what you get with these fancy converted warehouse apartments."

He opened the window and then sat back down heavily, reaching over to take the shot glass from her waiting hand. He held it up. "Salut!" They downed another one.

"Next time we'll hit my place," he said wiping the sweat from his brow with his forearm, "I've got AC."

Brennan stood up, unsteady and wavering. "I have to take this shirt off. It's just sweltering." She undid the buttons clumsily, peeling off the offending garment, throwing it onto the back of the chair.

"No, wait Bones. Don't." Booth put his hand over his eyes, "I can't see you naked."

"Pssht. Naked. Ha. Open your eyes Booth. I'm hardly naked." She plopped back down on the chair, folding her long legs underneath her.

He peeked out between two fingers, and then dropped his hand. She was indeed covered, even modestly so. That didn't stop him from nearly gaping. Her camisole was blood red, silk, the pale lace at the top matching the bra underneath revealing her shoulders, tan and smooth, the skin glistening in the heat and the fading light of the day. He could see that her breasts were perfect; pert, round orbs peeking out from the top of the camisole. She was lovelier than he had imagined. He averted his eyes again and focused on the scenery outside her floor-to-ceiling windows.

She rolled her eyes. "'I forget how modest you are, Booth. It's just the human body."

"Well, it's a human body I'm not supposed to be looking at," he said, keeping his eyes away from her. He was beginning to realize that he was really, really drunk and this was not shaping up to be a situation he should be getting into with his partner. He looked at her again. Especially with the ravishing Temperance Brennan.

Brennan watched as Booth tried not to observe her. This struck her as very funny and prudish and she began to laugh. "Oh heavens, Booth. Why don't you take your shirt off then we'll be even. It'll give me something to look at as well."

He looked at her, miffed. "I might just do that."

She stiffened; the laugh caught in her throat, as he rose and pulled his button-down shirt up over his head. His undershirt rode up slightly, allowing her a view of his abdomen, taut and lean, a small trail of hair descending into his trousers. Brennan shook her head, trying to sober up and chase out unwanted thoughts, but it was too late, desire shot through her limbs making her legs feel like jelly.

He sat back down, stretching out his arms on the back of the couch. "That's much better. Although if we start taking off our pants, I better go." Best to keep it light, he thought. No way am I letting her know how much the sight of her bare shoulders is turning me on.

It must be the vodka, Brennan thought, because now she couldn't stop looking at Booth imagining what he looked like completely naked. The room seemed smaller and hotter, even with the fan blowing directly on her.

They were quiet for a moment, each nursing a glass of vodka, lost in thought. Maybe having sex wouldn't be such a bad thing, Brennan thought. Might clear the air a bit; release some of the tension between them. And it's just sex. As American as pumpkin pie. Or was it apple pie.? Heedless of her drunken state and her ability to make rational decisions, she jumped right in.

"You know. I'm very good at fellatio," she said as nonchalantly as she could muster.

"What?!" Booth jumped up, spilling his drink all over the front of his pants.

"Oh, sorry!" Brennan jumped up grabbing her shirt, dabbing it on the front of his pants. He looked down at her horrified as she blotted his crotch. She looked up, froze, then backed away, handing him the shirt.

"Jesus, Bones," he bellowed, wiping down his own pants, "you surprised the hell out of me. What made you say that?" He was flustered, but tried to hide it behind irritation.

She sat back down hard. "I was just thinking maybe we could release some of the sexual tenshion between us by actually having sex." Great, now I'm slurring my speech, she thought, maybe this isn't such a good idea. But she kept going, unable to stop. "I was simply stating a fact that I'm very good at performing fellatio, and I assume you would be equally good at cunnilingus. You also seem to be very well endowed, leading me to believe that you could satisfy..."

"Hold it right there Temperance." Booth's eyes were glassy but firm. "Are you saying you want to make love with me?"

"Have sex, Booth. But yes. I'm saying I would like to have sexual relations with you."

Booth stood looking at her, his mind reeling. On the one hand, he wanted her more than any other woman he had ever met. On the other, she was his partner, this could screw up their relationship for good. On the other, other hand, he thought, she is gorgeous and I bet she tastes really good. Maybe it would be best to play her game, he thought. Not get emotionally caught up in it. Just play her game. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him.

Their faces wavered together for a moment, just inches apart as they starred into each other's eyes. She tried to keep her face composed. His eyes were hooded, dark and unreadable. He closed his eyes leaning in to meet her lips. She was aware of how hard her heart was beating and she wished she could still it. His tongue slipped past her lips into her mouth and she moaned softly, closing her eyes, losing herself to the sensation. Her tongue met his and the kiss deepened, the sparks beginning to fly as their tongues met and began battle. They inhaled each other, the passion between them mounting. His hands ran along her arms, up her neck, cupping her face in his hands. Their eyes opened at the same time, a deep understanding occurring to both of them that this wasn't going to be apple pie sex. The moment hung between them like the heat, relentless and oppressive. Brennan made the first move, deciding on keeping the game ruse going a little longer. She backed out of his embrace, playfully pushing him onto the couch. "I think there was something I wanted to show you," she said, her voice low and sultry. Kissing is too dangerous, she thought to herself, too passionate.

He watched, fascinated, as she stepped out of her skirt revealing long legs and a tight rear encased in lacy panties. His mouth went dry. He reached up to bring her down to him, but she laughed, slapping his hands away. She knelt before him, hands on his knees. His cock hardened into pure steel as she reached for the zipper on his trousers. Her eyes looked up into his. "I like it dirty," she growled, helping him out of his pants.

He nearly came right then and there. I never realized what a sex kitten she is, he thought. Well, more lioness than kitten. This was his last thought before Brennan found his cock with her hands firmly stroking him up and down, her eyes never leaving his. I don't think I can hold out very long, he thought. Not if she keeps looking at me like that, and doing that with her hands. Her lips parted and she licked them. Transfixed, he watched as she leaned over and kissed just the tip of his cock. His eyes rolled back and his head dropped to the back of the couch.

She began to lick, keeping one hand stroking his cock as she flicked her tongue over the head. One hand reached up to cup his balls, their softness at odds with the hardness of his prick. "Oh God. That's good. So very good." He moaned, thrusting his hips forward into her face. She responded by taking his cock all the way into her mouth, sucking on it heavily.

She put his hands on either side of his head, giving him permission to face fuck her, which he did, thrusting his cock into her mouth over and over, their eyes locked in the rhythm, until he cried out, "I'm coming! Oh my God! Oh my God!" He held her head as he shot thick streams of cum down her throat. She swallowed every drop, continuing to suck on his cock long after he collapsed back onto the couch.

She took his wilting cock out of her mouth and gave it a delicate kiss. She wiped her mouth and sat back. "I was right, wasn't I? Best fellatio you've ever had? No need to say anything. I can just tell."

He wiped the sweat off his forehead and leaned forward putting his face to hers. Her heart caught in her throat a little at the intensity of his expression. What was he thinking? she thought. He leaned forward giving her a long, passionate kiss, her mouth still salty from his cum. He couldn't speak or think or reason. He only wanted this to continue, tomorrow be damned.

"Your turn," he growled," flipping her over on the couch like a pancake. Her hair splayed out on the couch in waves as he gently eased her panties down her legs. "I can't confirm I'm the best ever at giving head," he murmured, "but I promise you won't be disappointed." He reached down, grasping her legs, placing one on each side of him, her feet resting on the coffee table in front of her. He grabbed her hips and tugged her down to him, her pelvis level with the end of the couch. She looked amazing to him, splayed out on the couch, hair astray, eyes hooded and dark with desire. His hands trailed up the inside of her thighs, his hands making a box shape at the apex of her womanhood.

"So beautiful," he said looking into her eyes, "so goddamn gorgeous." His hand closed over her mound causing her to moan softly. His fingers slipped to her clitoris, then stroked her opening, watching her eyes open and close dreamily, her wetness seeping out onto his hand. Lifting his fingers to his mouth, he tasted her. His eyes closed in ecstasy. It tasted a little like honey, but sweeter.

He put his fingers back into her pussy and inched in a finger. So tight and wet, he thought. He felt his cock harden again and he wanted to take her right then, but he stopped himself. He wanted to give her all the pleasure she had given him. He leaned over, finger still in her, he licked just below her clit, taking care not to let his tongue intrude where his finger stroked. Her hips rocked into him and he removed his finger, his tongue assaulting her completely. His hands grasped her hips as he fucked her with his tongue. She was wild, bucking under him like an untrained colt. She dangled her legs over his back, her thighs squeezing his head, riding him. He moved one hand under her bottom, rocking her while the other hand took the place of his tongue in her pussy. He moved his tongue to her clit and sucked hard. She cried out, an orgasm overcoming her, her passion unfurling. She rode him hard as the waves rocked her over and over, wetness pouring from her out onto his waiting tongue.

When the orgasm subsided, she lay there, unable to move, limp and sated. He leaned down and gently kissed her pussy in the same way she had kissed him. He sat up, looking at her. His eyes were dark again, full of desire, and when she looked down she saw that he was rock hard again. Wordless, she sat up, folding herself into his embrace, her mouth locking onto his.

While still kissing, he rose, picking her up, carrying her past the kitchen to the bedroom. He kicked the door open and tossed her on the bed. They quickly shed the last of their clothes. He began to kiss her all over. He sucked on her long neglected breasts, the nipples rock candy beneath his tongue. She inhaled the scent of his hair and pulled on his earlobes, ran her fingers down his back and over his broad shoulders. She couldn't wait any longer. "Seeley," she gasped, "Seeley, I need you."

All pretense of game playing was over. Their desire for each other was desperate, all powerful and plain to see. He moved up, face to face with her, his expression grave. His cock was at the entrance of her pussy waiting for her signal. She opened her legs further and he pushed in, her slickness enveloping him completely. They moved together, eyes locked, mewling and clawing at each other like fighting cats. He propped himself up on his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he drove himself further into her. He was relentless, pounding into her over and over, his features distorted by desire. She lifted her hips further off the bed driving him deeper, grunts escaping her, her body completely lost to the sensations.

She felt the first stirrings of orgasm and she cried out, "Seeley!" as she fused herself to him, her hips rocking madly into his. He was unyielding, his cock straining the edges of her pussy. As the first orgasm subsided, another one rode in behind. Her head began to thrash madly. She cried out over and over as orgasm after orgasm overtook her. Tears crept from her eyes as the feeling overwhelmed her. Finally she shuddered heavily, calming down, riding out the last waves of sensation. Booth balanced on his knees, grabbed her hips and pulled her to him, thrusting into her wildly. He was nearly mad, and seeing her in front of him, spent and slick from the heat and passion did him in.

With a howl he shot into her, his body shaking, shattering into a million pieces. He kept driving into her until he felt his heart nearly explode out of his chest, then he collapsed on her, their bodies fused together from head to toe, still rocking together like a leaky boat after a storm.

They lay together, panting, their bodies slippery from the heat, their hair damp. His face was buried next to her head, their hands intertwined. They were still for several minutes until their breathing calmed each one unsure of how to face the other.

Can I even pretend that wasn't the best sex I've ever had? she thought. He's got to know what he just did to me. I can't pretend this isn't something other than just sex. Her mind reeled in confusion.

His thoughts were similarly panicked. I can't look at her right now, Booth thought. She's going to know I'm in love with her. Fuck. I'm in love with her. As he thought it he knew it was true.

Without figuring out what to do their bodies parted. He fell over to the other side of the bed and faced her. She moved onto her side to face him. For a long time they just looked at each other, neither one wanting to break the spell. He reached out a hand to stroke the length of her body from shoulder to thigh in long sweeping strokes. His eyes never left hers as he touched her, trying to tell her with his hands what his voice could not. She starred at him, her eyes wide and hypnotized.

They lay that way for a long time, until desire overcame them and they coupled madly, again and again, the night quickly fading into the morning. At day break they fell into a heavy sleep wrapped tightly around each other, his head against her breast, her head rested against the top of his head.

Their dreams, perhaps sated by the long night of desire, were not of more coupling, but of deeper, seemingly mundane things. His dreams were of her walking down an aisle at a movie theater with him at the end waiting for her, her long hair blowing softly in an imaginary breeze. She dreamed they were swimming together, laughing and diving into the clear blue water, splashing and teasing each other.

They slept on, their dreams intermingling as their bodies were, their thoughts only on each other, on today, right now. Not on what might happen tomorrow.