This is just an attempt on my part to make things a little heated, a little...passionate between BB without them actually doing the horizontal mumba or any associated activites. Not sure if it worked but, as I said, just an attempt!

Bones is not mine. More's the pity.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Brennan followed Booth as he moved into the bar. She loved going out of town for cases but this one had dragged on and on and, now, she was more than ready to go home. The killer had been identified and caught, the family informed and, as of twenty-five minutes ago, all of the necessary paperwork had been completed. Booth had proposed a trip to the bar across the street from their hotel for a celebratory drink. There was a bar actually in the hotel but, in Booth's words, it was too squinty, too clinical. Brennan took this to mean "too clean".

Having said that, this place appealed to her. The dim lighting, the rustic decoration and the live band in the corner of the room did seem more preferable than what they had left behind at the hotel. The clientele here were mid-twenties to mid-sixties, everybody apparently happy to talk amongst themselves and soak up the relaxing atmosphere.

Booth turned to her with a smile. "See, Bones, what'd I tell you?"

She rolled her eyes and nodded slightly in agreement, refusing to say outright that he'd been correct. As they moved toward the bar, the band changed their song and a slow, Spanish tune began, the beat accentuated by assuredly plucked guitars and the singer's breathy, irresistible voice.

He noticed her attention shifting from the bar before them to the music and dancing going on in the corner. Couples joined and swayed in time to the beat, the low lights making the whole scene all the more romantic.

"What about a dance, Bones?"

She glanced at him askance, mouth falling open.

"What?"

"Well, come on, Bones, you obviously want to."

She made a flustered attempt to deny this.

"No, I…I don't and, Booth, we're partners and…"

His voice slightly raspy, Booth leaned in and challenged, "C'mon, Bones. It's just a dance."

Unable to think up a suitable retort, she stared at him wordlessly. Surely one dance wouldn't matter. One innocent dance. A perfectly natural social activity. And an acceptable activity to partake in with a colleague. Right?

He raised his eyebrows at her, his lips twitching. With a somewhat resigned expression, she nodded once at him. His shoulders relaxed and he chuckled softly. He tilted his head in the direction of the other dancers and began to move toward them.

Embarrassed, she moved onto the crowded dance floor behind him. She avoided eye contact with anyone she passed. It wasn't that she was flustered about dancing with him…it was just, when she thought about the first time they'd danced like this, and everything that had happened since then, all of the feelings evoked and strengthened over time…well, that was when the embarrassment kicked in.

He seemed to have found a suitable spot. He stopped and turned to face her. Confused by the churning feeling in her stomach, Brennan avoided his gaze and reached up both hands to run her fingers through her hair, trying desperately to appear perfectly nonchalant in his presence.

The breath was snatched from her and her wide eyes flew to his face as he reached his hands up and firmly gripped her forearms, effectively holding her arms aloft.

Her eyes darted from side to side, fear etched across her features.

"Booth!" she hissed, tilting her head to indicate the other dancers.

He chuckled deep in his chest as he realized she was trying to imply that perhaps he was being inappropriate. She swallowed heavily, feeling as though she could hear his low laughter rumbling through her but knowing that was impossible.

He leaned his head forward conspiratorially, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Look around, Bones. They don't care. And you shouldn't either. Stop thinking so much. Just feel."

With that, he took a step closer and tightened his hold ever so slightly on her bare forearms. Her lips parted as a surge of desire bubbled through her.

She snuck a look at the other dancers. Nobody was paying them the slightest bit of attention. Most were plastered against their partner, lost in the moment. The seductive Spanish rhythm flowed around her, ensnaring her and rendering her quite helpless.

Gaining confidence, she entangled her fingers slightly in her hair as her hips gently began to move. His eyes bored into her as a hungry smile tugged at his lips. "'Atta girl," he growled. He moved a thumb slowly up her skin and began to rub gentle encouraging circles against the bones of her elbow.

Her blood seemed to boil as it coursed through her veins. Her eyes met his and held the gaze. She watched the deep chocolate of his stare darken even further and felt an impossibly warm shiver run through her.

Her hips were rolling gently in time to the music, circling first one way and then the next. He seemed captivated, his eyes moving and fastening on her provocatively swaying pelvis. His appreciation made her bold and filled her with a reckless desire. She stepped forward once and continued her hips' slow rotation. This time, their iliac crests, hers prominent, his less so, bumped gently together.

The two let out spontaneous trembling breaths as their hips joined and then parted. She gazed up at him through her lashes. From the way he was leaning toward her and the need she saw shining from his eyes, she knew she wasn't alone in thinking of another activity during which their bodies might collide in such a manner.

She breathed deep, needing oxygen to reach her starved brain and stop this intoxicating cycle. But, oxygen be damned, she really didn't want to stop. His eyes moved to the hollow of her neck and the light sheen of perspiration he found there nearly sent him over the edge.

Brennan continued to circle her hips, feeling the heat radiating from his every pore as she did. The next time she moved forward, he moved in a similar manner. Due to the tilted position of their pelvises, this allowed their pubic bones to connect for the first time.

Their worlds constricted to that point, to that sensation. They could hear the other's breathing as everything around them seemed to fade away. The air between them was distractingly close, everything separating and within them incredibly warm.

The grinding of his jeans against her more formal, lighter material, work pants sent a bolt of desire shooting from her core around her entire body. She moaned quietly, eyes suddenly heavy-lidded. He grunted, face a mask of want, and pushed himself against her again, more firmly this time.

Her eyes fluttered and every hair on her skin seemed to stand on end though her body felt unbearably warm. She felt him shudder against her and relished in the increased friction.

He began to move his hands incredibly slowly down her arms. Her skin burned, her eyes rolled and her breathing stopped momentarily. He shuffled forward very slightly as he reached the bottom of her forearms. Here, he gave her shoulders a quick squeeze, eyes praising her for not having bolted.

Her eyes burned into him as she licked her bottom lip, soft strands of hair falling over her face as her hands continued to move through her silken locks. A low groan escaped him and his eyes darkened even further. Their hips continued to sway, jostling occasionally.

Every nerve ending was firing uncontrollably as he began to move his fingers lower. He made no effort to reach out and touch them, but he made damn certain that the sides of his thumbs grazed the outside and bottom of her breasts as he continued south. Almost unaware of it, she arched her back towards him with a breathy sigh.

His fingers splayed so as to trace the length of her ribs under her light top as he continued his torturously slow descent. She had to make a conscious effort to stop her head from rolling back.

He finally reached the flare of her hips. He paused there a moment, eyes burning into hers, as he positioned the heel of his hands so as to meld perfectly against the curve of her bone. Her skeleton felt liquid. Had he not been providing such firm support, she would have certainly lost her balance.

Booth ran his fingers around to the small of her back, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Her eyes found his as he increased the pressure of his hands, gently coaxing her forwards and against him.

Both could feel the other's warm breath against their skin as their bodies connected. He fused her against him more tightly as her hands slowly moved from her hair and dangled behind his back, wrists balancing on his shoulders.

Her breasts were pushed firmly against his chest. She imagined that she could feel every pectoral lining his stomach through his light shirt. The lower halves of their bodies were inseparable. This made dancing quite difficult but neither wanted to break the connection so they contented themselves with slow, shuffling movements.

Almost unaware of them, her fingers moved to his shirt collar and began to play absently with his hair. He chuckled softly and, as the last lingering notes from the band rang out, let his fingers trail the line of exposed skin between her top and pants. She gasped quietly and instinctively arched toward him. He let out a quick breath, eyes momentarily leaving hers and lingering on their merged pelvises.

He leaned forward, breath tickling her ear and sending waves of desire tumbling down her spine. "See, Bones," he whispered, as he pushed his pubic bone firmly against hers one final time, taking care to grind up and down. Her breath came out in a whoosh and her knees wobbled as he stepped away. As he began to move toward the bar once more, he completed his sentence in a guttural growl.

"It was just a dance."