Brennan and Booth are asleep on the bed in their tiny circus trailer. She's hugging the right side of the bed, contorted and lying sideways. She wakes up and shifts, turning over to face him. She pushes at his shoulder and shakes him. "Booth. Booth. Booth!"
Booth groans and rubs his face with his hand. He rolls over and glares at her in the dark. "What, Bones? I'm trying to sleep here."
"I'm trying to sleep as well, but your stertoring is preventing me from doing so."
He sits up in a huff. "My what?"
"Your snoring, in the vernacular."
"Snoring? I do NOT snore."
"I don't lie, Booth. You're extremely loud and disruptive."
He grunts. "I do NOT snore," he repeats, "but since you went there, I'll let you know that you're keeping me up too. I've had your foot up my ass half the night, and you're a sheet hog."
"Did you just call me a pig?"
"I mean, you're stealing the sheets. All I have is this tiny corner. I'm cold."
"Oooh. Well, you could have remedied that by simply waking me up and asking for more sheets. Any person of average intelligence would know that, Booth." She sits up and shovels half the sheet over to him. "And as for your claim that my foot has been up your ass all night, that's highly unlikely. Other than the fact that my foot is far too large to fit, if it were actually up your ass, as you've said, there would be significant tearing of—."
He holds up his hand and shivers. "You're kicking me, Bones."
"You should have just said that."
He groans louder.
"Nonetheless, I'm not used to occupying a bed with another person, unless I'm engaging in sexual intercourse. In that instance, I suppose my mate wouldn't be bothered by a little kick in the buttocks or in the very least, he'd have the sense to tap me on the shoulder and wake me up if my sleep patterns were disrupting his own sleep, though I'm not sure how much sleep we would be getting."
He swallows and looks away from her for a second, before stating, "We should have gotten a bigger trailer."
"Don't look at me. You arranged this."
"Me? It was your idea to go undercover as circus performers."
"To catch a murderer," she clarifies, "and I wasn't referring to our undercover operation. I was talking about the trailer, Booth, but this conversation is no longer relevant." She yawns. "Try sleeping on your side. When you lie on your back, the base of your tongue collapses into the back of your throat, obstructing your breathing. A simple position change may prevent this from occurring."
He angrily rolls over and tugs the sheets away from her. "Thanks." He gets comfortable again. "You stay on your side and I'll stay on mine. I'll try not to disturb you with my nonexistent snoring and you just try not to kick me. Okay, Bones?"
"Fine."
"Fine." He closes his eyes and holds onto the sheet, preventing her from yanking it back. After a few minutes, he says, "You're doing it again."
She cracks open one eye. "Doing what?"
"Never mind. Goodnight, Bones."
She glances at the clock. "It's actually morning, so the proper thing to say is, 'Good morning'."
"Just go to sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow."
"Today," she corrects.
He rolls his eyes and lets out a long-winded sigh. "When we get back home, don't tell anyone we slept in the same bed, especially not Sweets."
"Of course. I can keep a secret." She lets her eyes fall shut and she shifts on the mattress, inching closer to the edge of the bed. She's asleep within a few minutes and he isn't far behind her.
When they wake up later that morning, she's got a pillow covering her head and he's got a shirt draped over him like a blanket. Plus, there's a barrier of pillows in the space between them.
The End.