Sorry for the delay. My thanks as ever to my beta, Jen.

Another of my favourite episodes, the glorious look on the pastor's face at the end as Booth and Brennan look at her – priceless!

I still don't own Bones. I'd have never let it end.

"You know, a lot of psychologists say that jokes are a way to manifest our hidden desires."

Despite Brennan's alleged dislike of what she called a soft science, it never failed to amuse Booth that she often quoted psychology during their conversations. With some irony, despite the need for much humour to soften the unfortunate nuptial blow befalling Hodgins and Angela, there was little hidden about this encounter. Booth found himself in full wedding party regalia, with Brennan literally pressed up against him on a dance floor with absolutely no room for the Holy Spirit, as he was once again teleported by his sleeping subconscious into a potential kissing scenario with his once partner, now girlfriend, in their ongoing debate over whether an earlier hook-up between them would have changed anything at all.

He recognised his surroundings quickly enough, the rich majestic drapes and flocked wallpaper of the main ballroom of the Four Seasons Hotel, the opulence providing an appropriate backdrop to the reception of the now in-absentia Hodgins and Angela. They'd skipped the formalities and were now on their way to their non-honeymoon after their aborted wedding ceremony, whilst they took stock of what to do next. In the event, the reception had ended up being classier and less likely to make Caligula blush than Angela and Hodgins had initially flirted over, especially once Booth and Brennan, as Best Man and Maid of Honour respectively, had stepped in to take over hosting duties. It had been surprisingly easy, but in some respects not so surprising, as the partners worked as they always did to make everything look seamless. The meal had gone smoothly and the two were now cheek to cheek on the dance floor amongst a throng of revellers as a Jazz and Blues band, friends of Billy himself, playing a tight set of songs designed to get people out on the dance floor and keep them there.

Maybe it was the situation. Maybe it was the champagne - nothing less than 1996 Krug on the menu - or maybe it was the two of them once more dressed in evening wear: the satin finish of Brennan's dress, now fixed by Cam so it looked less like the bow from an Easter bonnet had been attached to it (what had Angela been thinking?), so soft under Booth's fingers as he held her waist and pulled her against him. Maybe, it was that Brennan had no desire let go of the broad shoulder she held firmly, the fine weave of his Italian-tailored tuxedo smooth against her hand. In any event, the two of them had been inseparable since the first dance and remained locked together despite several valiant but failed attempts to prize them apart for a dance, including, but not limited to: Cam and Zack, several members of Angela's extended family, and one of Hodgins' drunk college buddies. They'd taken occasional drinks breaks through the evening, but on each occasion, Booth's hand had remained steadfastly in place on her back, Brennan's arm wrapped around his waist - neither let go. They were an impenetrable fortress. The centre was more than holding.

Brennan had been quite overwhelmed by her partner's kindness to her regarding her father, and in the same way she couldn't let go of Booth, she couldn't work out why she'd had a peculiar buzz in her stomach since their hug at the altar that just didn't leave her. With the cuts and bruises he'd sustained at Max's hand – "You should have seen the other guy!" he'd joked to Hodgins before the ceremony; the groom took in Booth's appearance with some horror, particularly as he pondered how Angela would react to his mildly battered face in the wedding photos. Yet, perhaps because of the source of his sore cheek, it only endeared Booth to Brennan even more. Notwithstanding how incredibly handsome he looked in his tux, and the way he smelled – he wan't one for an overpowering aftershave - as he held her close, she gently inhaled as her cheek rested on his shoulder. He smelt like coming home, and comfort, and sex, all rolled into one irresistible package. Brennan had sublimated her attraction to Booth some some months since their talk, or rather, his lecture, about 'the line.' However, this evening, that line was in danger of being obliterated and what scared her was that it did not bother her at all.

For Booth, that same buzz had a clear and obvious origin. It certainly wasn't the first time he'd seen her dressed up, but they knew each other so much better now, even since Vegas. They were friends, colleagues… but Bones… in that hot dress with a low cut neckline, allowing him to enjoy the view of her long graceful neck with a gentle curve down to her shoulder? What he wouldn't give to run his lips along that imaginary line, she would be his crack cocaine - hell, she was already. The smokey eye make-up, the gloss on her lips – all these things were provocative enough individually, but together made for a huge test of his resolve, not least of which was just the way they were holding each other at that moment, exacerbating his feelings further.

Still holding her, Booth remembered back to the non-dream version of when this had happened. From memory, at the end of the night they'd been invited to take the unused honeymoon suite that Jack and Angela hadn't used as they'd avoided the reception. They'd reluctantly rejected the idea, mainly because the conversation they'd had about emotional entanglements was still fairly fresh, and as they agreed, it seemed weird sharing a room, especially one designed for lovers, under those circumstances. This time though, he considered… this time would be different. He'd allowed himself to loosen his control just enough, tonight, to let her know for sure how much he cared for her.

It was heading towards the end of the night; everyone had had plenty to drink, and people were starting to head home. The band had finished their last song, but Booth and Brennan were still entwined on the dance floor, reluctant to break apart. The head maitre'd caught Booth's eye, giving him a small smile and a nod.

"Bones…"

"Mmmmm?" She had entirely melted into his arms and quite honestly, he wasn't that bothered about letting go, either.

"Just give me a sec, OK?"

"OK." She responded drowsily. Booth pulled away from her slowly and walked over to the man. Becoming more alert and realising that that the evening really was ending, Brennan wandered over to the side of the room to collect her things as her partner spoke with the maitre'd. He knew what was coming, but remembered to look surprised.

"Mr Booth?"

"Hi Stewart."

"Doctor Hodgins and Miss Montenegro specifically asked me to offer you use of the Royal Suite tonight for yourself and the Maid of Honour. The suite is ready and paid for and a change of clothes has been left for you."

"Really?"

"Ms Montenegro was very insistent, Sir. She said, and I quote: 'I want it put to good use. Make sure our Best Man and Maid of Honour take it for the night.'" The Maitre'd gave Booth a professional but mildly knowing smile. Booth tried not to blush.

"Thank you. I will ask her."

"When you've decided, please let the desk clerk know."

Booth walked back over to Brennan. She looked tired, a few errant strands now falling from her previously perfectly coiffured hair. He put his hand on her shoulder and made eye contact with a sympathetic look.

"Bones, Angela and Hodgins want us to have the honeymoon suite tonight."

"What? But we don't have any clothes… or toiletries, or... anything." Booth noted that Brennan said nothing about the appropriateness of them sharing. That was different…

"Um, about that." Booth rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Apparently Angela sorted that."

"What? Surely they had other things on their minds."

"She must have given the hotel some cash and our clothes sizes – I mean – she knows yours anyway, right? From your bridesmaid's dress." Brennan's face was unreadable for a moment.

"I guess," she considered, "As it's late, and we've both been hosting this all evening… and drinking alcohol, it could be quite convenient to use the room…" She searched his face for an answer.

"Yeah, it could." He smiled at her - one of those smiles! She couldn't help but respond, and they stood still for a moment, the room once again fading out, before Booth composed himself and took his hand from her shoulder and moved it to hold her hand, leading her gently to the reception desk and addressing the clerk accordingly.

"Mr Booth, Doctor Brennan. Your room keys. Would you like assistance to your room?"

"No, we're fine thanks. No luggage." Booth shrugged affably, before turning back to Brennan. They glanced at each other awkwardly and the clerk smiled sweetly at them. She was familiar with the situation, and understood why this had been set up for them. Clearly there was something unresolved between the two of them.

"No problem. Swipe your card in the lift, you'll need that for the floor access. It's the top floor, walk to your left as you exit the lift. It's the Royal Suite. You'll find everything is in order for you there. You have a late check-out, so no hurry in the morning." The clerk tried not to smirk as she relayed the last part of information. She had seen enough people come and go to know who would be taking advantage of the late departure.

They took their keys with a nod and a thank you and made their way to the lift. They stood a couple of feet apart from each other, both staring ahead nervously, not wanting to acknowledge what was taking place.

As they entered their suite, Booth whistled at the size of it. It was huge. They exchanged a look of appreciative incredulity, before starting to wander around. Booth found the sound system and found a radio station playing some smooth Jazz. It seemed to fit with the situation. He called across to his partner, who was somewhere around a corner, out of his eye-line.

"Hey Bones, I'm gonna get some water – would you like some?"

"Sure. Thanks," Brennan acknowledged. She strolled around the suite admiring the sumptuous décor, the sound of Booth opening cupboards and clinking glasses in the background, before walking into the master bedroom and finding three clothes bags – two with her name on, and one with Booth's. Hers were labelled 'tonight' and 'tomorrow'. She sighed, guessing what Angela had planned, but curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself taking the bag labelled 'tonight' into the master bathroom.

By the time Booth had entered the bedroom, Brennan was nowhere to be seen.

Brennan took off her dress and neatly hung it up on the bathroom door. She contemplated what the events of the evening, and those possibly about to transpire, could really mean. She had a rush of adrenaline which she couldn't decide whether was out of nerves or excitement. This was Booth, not some random one-night stand, and she needed to work out whether she was willing to commit to something beyond "biological urges". She unzipped the clothes bag, pulled out the item that Angela had clearly selected for her, and stared at it intently.

"Bones? You there?" He put her water down and perched on the edge of the bed, not entirely sure what to do with himself, so he just waited. Some minutes passed. His throat suddenly felt very constricted, so he took off his bow tie and opened the his top shirt button.

The bathroom door cracked open and Brennan reappeared, the same slightly gawky look she'd had as she'd appeared from the bathroom in Vegas some months before. Booth found himself with the same expression on his face, but this time, the source wasn't a black dress, but a pale blue silk negligee that lit up the brightest blue in her eyes. The length and cut were both reasonably modest, but with Brennan's shapely curves, Booth couldn't help but take her all in. Her hair was now down, the previously pinned tresses now cascading down over her shoulders in gentle waves. She gave him a nervous smile, not knowing what would happen next, albeit she had a pretty clear idea what Angela was hinting at.

"Wow." Booth was rooted to the spot. Brennan hesitantly walked a few steps towards him until they were about two arms' lengths apart. She glanced at him coyly, noting that he looked incredibly handsome. He had done all night, but now he'd loosened his clothes a little, her attention was drawn to a sweet spot on his neck where she could now see a little skin. She wanted to get a lot closer to that spot.

Brennan took a breath and lifted her face to meet his. The partners locked eyes, electricity sparking between them.

Brennan gazed into Booth's eyes, and seeing a reflection of her own hopes and fears, relaxed her shoulders a little.

"So…" He stepped a little closer and put out his hand to take hers. "Dance with me?" The Jazz was still drifting in from the other room. He pulled her in gently before wrapping his left arm around her waist, his right hand taking hers and holding it between them. Brennan instinctively wrapped her free hand around his neck. Their eyes didn't leave each other, not at first. Then Brennan's eyes drifted down to Booth's mouth, and to the spot she'd seen earlier. He felt her hand gently stroke the soft, short hair on the nape of his neck, before pulling his head closer toward hers. He needed little encouragement, and with a grin, closed the distance between them until they were kissing – first tentatively, soon more passionately. His shirt seemed to be unbuttoning itself, and before he knew it, Brennan was peppering his chest, and that spot on his neck, with one open mouth kiss after another. His trousers soon followed his shirt, Brennan's nimble fingers operating most effectively whilst he was distracted, and he was stepping out of them whilst still in mid-clinch.

This time, Booth's subconscious finally allowed him to live through the best part of his dream, the one that he had been previously denied in the previous episodes that night. He hooked the straps off Brennan's negligee, stepping back for a moment to watch it drop from her and pool on the floor, his expression, as he did so, one of awe. She stood before him left only in her panties, her face part defiance, part desire. He took a deep breath and took her in his arms again. As they kissed once more, Booth pulled himself and Brennan onto the bed, so when they landed, she was lying on top of him, their mostly now naked bodies pressed against each other, reactions apparent from the effect. They kissed again vigorously for some time, before Brennan pulled back from him with a smile. As she did so, he pulled a strand of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

"Bones? What is it?"

"I just wanted to tell you… it's not just biological urges. I wanted you to know that." It wasn't an, 'I love you,' but it was the closest he could have hoped for. All he could do was kiss her again.

Booth lay staring at the ceiling, Brennan's auburn curls strewn across this chest, moving gently as she dozed next to him. It turned out she was much more of a snuggler than he'd expected. He felt elated… and exhausted. He closed his eyes just for a moment. As he did so, he felt himself once more falling away…

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