A/N: Thanks for all the wonderful feedback you've given this store and all the positive vibes you've sent our family's way. I know I took forever, but real life (aka dr's appointments) and writing fanfic sometimes don't mix well.

A/N2: And here is, by popular demand, the epilogue of our undercover (and under the bed covers) mission. Please say thanks to Ms. Montenegro on the way out for lending us the Angelator to take B&B for a spin around town (or a tantric yoga institute).

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Fuck.

If my muscles were killing me yesterday evening, this morning there's definitively murder and mayhem in their agenda. I'm not a young pup anymore, dammit, and contrary to popular belief, I usually draw the line at two times performance per night.

Bones got me going FOUR times in less than 6 hours. Count them. F O U R. A fucking (pun intended) record by my standards… by anyone's standards, really. Four absofuckinglutely wonderful sessions of lovemaking. Not that I hadn't picture her as a skilled lover, mind you, but four times?

W o w

And now comes the dreaded morning-after-doing-the-deed-for-the-first-time moment. Talk about awkward. More often than not I've opted for the discreet retreat in the middle of the night. Tacky, yes, but effective. No embarrassing moves trying to get dressed as quickly and casually as possible. No uncomfortable silences heavy with all the things you want to say but can't, and all the things you have to say, but won't. Not having to accept the forced invitation for breakfast. And I don't want to remember to the one time in my life I decided to take the girl to MY place. Lunch time came and went and she was still there, and my subtle hints didn't seem to reach her at all. For as long as I live I don't want to have to say that "I want you out of here now" ever again.

So I carefully half open my eyes to check out what the landscape was. And my breath caught in my chest. Bones was up and about as naked as the day she was born. And feeling totally comfortable too, I might add. I'm sure that, if asked, she'd have a slew of anthropological theories regarding the social imposition of clothes and how natural nakedness was, but I wasn't going to waste my time delving into that knowledge.

Mr. Jones, by the way, wasn't wasting any time either. Darn, the things that woman do to me!

Bones must have sensed/heard/assumed/guessed/whatever that I was up (those puns just keep coming, huh?) and turned to look at me, smiling. Wham. Full force hit straight into my heart and my loins. I'm not sure I'm going to survive this. Neither my ranger nor my FBI training ever prepared me for falling in love with a sex goddess like Temperance Brennan.

She comes closer to the bed and gives me a once over. Her smile acquires a wicked aura and I'm sure I'm gonna die a happy man pretty soon. Amazingly, I don't really give a damn.

And as far as I can tell, neither does Mr. Jones.

"Good"…. kiss on my forehead…. "morning"… kiss on the tip of my nose …. "lover"… soft kiss on my lips… "boy"…. kiss on the hollow of my throat… "Are you" … lick on my left nipple… "up" …. kiss on my right nipple… "for a little"…. lick on my belly button… "loving?"… kiss on the tip of my cock.

And before I even got a chance to open my mouth, she opened hers.

All rational thought left the building once Bones started blowing me. My eloquence was reduced to incomprehensible grunts and my hands were holding onto the pillow for dear life, and I was holding back with all the self-restraint I could muster. God help me, all I wanted there and then was to grab her head and pump into her mouth like there was no tomorrow. But somehow, I managed to keep my hands on the pillow and my hips on the mattress and my head… got no idea where my head was back then.

In what seemed like seconds (and I'm hard at prayer that the operative word here is "seemed") Bones had me on the edge. My shaking hands let go of their safety hold and reached for her shoulders in warning. But she grasped my wrists and held my arms on my sides and continued sucking and licking and… and…

There's no more erotic sight than that of the woman you love watching you watching her as you come in her mouth.

I threw my head back and screamed her name. I wanted to devour her and I was hoping Mr. Jones would recover ASAP in order to help me. I felt like I would surely die if I didn't get inside her and branded her mine once again. I wanted to taste her tasting of me. I wanted.. I needed her so badly it hurt.

But then my eye caught the camera in the corner and reality came crashing down.

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It took a couple of weeks, but we managed to close the case.

The clinic was indeed a cover-up for not one, but three different crimes. Dez's brother was doing the smuggling of whatever artifact he could get his hands on, and that included some life sized statuettes. Dez's sister, who was in charge of the spa, came up with the bright idea of getting former clients to take the place of the stolen statuettes and had a regular mummy assembly line stashed in the basement of the spa. The victims were carefully selected after screening their bank accounts and tortured in order to obtain the codes. As for Dez, he had a very nice amateur porn movie business going on. Talk about a family of criminals.

Cullen called me into his office a couple of days afterwards for a briefing. Everything was going fine until he mentioned that the video-lab guys were running through all the tapes found in the clinic trying to look for further incriminating evidence. I began sweating under my collar. I had totally forgotten about the tapes.

I could tell Cullen was enjoying watching me squirm in my seat. Without warning he threw a tape marked "Brethen" at me. I caught it mid-air and stared at it, not quite ready to face him yet.

"I managed to get that one before it was reviewed. I'm sure you'll agree that the information in that tape has no relationship whatsoever with the Dez family trial and therefore, it holds no interest whatsoever for the FBI"

I tried to nod nonchalantly. Maybe, just maybe, I could walk out of there with my dignity intact and my ass in one piece. My hopes rose when Cullen dismissed me without further mention of the tape. I was almost at the door when he called my name, and I turned around to meet his gaze.

"Four times, Booth. I'm impressed"

Unfortunately, earth doesn't up and swallow us on demand, no matter how fervently we ask for it. So I merely crawled out of there as fast as I could.

So… bad guys were behind bars, justice had prevailed, and all tantric sex lovers could sleep peacefully knowing they weren't going to end their days decorating a doctor's office. Back at the Jeffersonian, the squints were gladly poring over real bones and talking in what I can only assume is English. Angela has this "I-KNOW-something-happened" look plastered on her face 24/7 and wastes no opportunity drilling both Bones and me for information.

So far, we've managed to resist. We're still at that stage where we feel too selfish to share what's ours. What goes on behind closed doors in both our places (yes, she's been to MY place several times… I've even allowed her to cook breakfast once or twice) is no one's business but ours so far. Maybe one day we'll tell, but not now.

Besides, the look on Ange's face when she finally catches us going at it in Bones' bathroom is sure to be priceless.

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A/N: So, this is finally it. Please close the door on your way out. Feel free to drop by and revisit any time you like. Oh.. and I wouldn't mind if you left a note saying how much you enjoyed the ride!