She swirled the spoon inside the small, porcelain cup, watching the dark liquid climb up the edges of the glass, almost overflowing. "Bones?" His soft voice awakens her from her stupor, and she hesitantly meets his gaze, feeling his eyes wash over her. She knows what she looks like, knows what he sees as his eyes search her face, and she is glad when he doesn't comment on her appearance. He gives her a small smile, and it slightly warms the coldness that has taken her over. "How you holding up?"
She shrugs, and fights the urge to sigh, "I'm alright, Booth." She meets his eyes again and feels the overwhelming tug of tears at the corners of her eyes. She tries to keep her lip from trembling, but she can still hear them, feel them, smell them… it is too much for her. She didn't know if she'd see him again… He notices her emotional turn and she smiles when he reaches across the table to hold her hand.
"No, you're not. But it's… it's to be expected. You'll be fine, I promise," he fishes in his pocket with his free hand and throws a pile of crumpled bills onto the table, flipping them with his fingers to ensure he's left enough for the bill and a tip. "Let's get you home…"
"NO!" She shouts, and he sits back down across from her, his eyes wide but his hand still squeezing hers. She can feel the other patrons watching her, and she bites the inside of her lip. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell." She shakes her head and stares at the laminated table top.
"What's wrong, Bones? Why don't you…" And suddenly, it dawns on him. The reason she's resistant… "Oh, God, Temperance…" The way he whispers her given name makes her heart flutter, and she hopes that her cheeks aren't flushed. "I get it…"
"You do?"
He nods, his thumb stroking her smooth, pale skin as he once again drinks her in. She knows, eventually, he will ask for the details, not only as an agent, but as a friend. She is glad that he knows the diner isn't the place for that, "That's where it started."
She nods, her eyes drifting back to her still-full cup. "But, it's more than that, Booth." She takes a deep breath, "I don't think I can be alone right now," Her eyes well again and he appreciates how hard it is for her to admit she needs him, or anyone.
"Come on, let's go." He tugs her into a standing position, his arm wrapping loosely around her slender middle. She takes a gentle step, and he winces when he feels her limp beside him.
"Where are we going?"
He opens her door and helps her inside, smiling when she lets him help her with her seatbelt without a single word about his overbearing, overprotective tendencies. "We are going to my place," He says, when he hops into the driver's seat.
"Booth, you don't have to…"
He turns the engine over, and looks at her, "Hey, it's not a problem." He sees the doubt in her eyes, so he adds, "And, it is not up for negotiation."
He faces forward and smiles as she whispers, "Fine," and watches him intently. He can feel her eyes burning into him, but he resists the urge to return her intense gaze. "Thank you," she mutters, turning to look forward.
"You're very welcome!" He grins.
She squirms, trying to get comfortable, and gasps, "Shit!" She mutters, her hand pressing gently into her hip.
"Hey, hey!" He pulls over, throwing the car into park and ripping off his seatbelt, rushing to her side. "Tell me what hurts, Bones," He whispers, looking her over.
"I'm fine, Booth. Really." She wants to laugh at his worried expression, at the sheer panic in his eyes, and at the intensity of his fear. She has learned, however, that such a thing would be inappropriate, and probably unforgivable. His hands are fluttering incessantly, searching her body for wounds. She tries to push down the wave of heat the contact brings unsuccessfully. She grabs his hands in hers, "Seriously, stop!"
"Not until you tell me what just happened! You were in pain, Bones!"
"I just shifted wrong, that's all. I put too much pressure on my right side, okay? Now, can you please get back in the car? We've developed an audience…"
He glances behind them and sees a cluster of bystanders, watching. "Fine." He closes her door and they make the rest of the short trip without interruption and in silence. Once they are parked outside of his building, she fumbles with her seatbelt, her hands shaking. "Here, I'll help you." He reaches over and releases her, "Wait, let me…"
"I'm fine. Will you stop fussing?" It comes out harsher than she intended, but she's already sick of his prodding. She knows he's just trying to help, but she feels… crowded. She pulls on the door handle, stepping out of the SUV to find that she really should've listened. The second her foot touches the ground, her right knee, weak from the day's events, gives out on her, and she lands on the asphalt, all of her weight on her right wrist.
"Bones!" she hears his footsteps and looks up at him hesitantly. Another wound to explain… She thought bitterly. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," she mutters, putting some weight on her wrist before crying out in pain. "Maybe not," she shakes her head, "I'm sorry…"
"It's fine. Let's get you back to the hospital…"
"What? Booth, I'm fine!!"
"No, you're not! You probably broke your wrist," He whispers, staring at her.
She glares at him, "I would know if I broke my wrist. I sprained it. I just need some ice and some Tylenol, alright?" She watches him, his eyes intense, "Are you going to help me up?"
He sighs and grabs her left arm, putting it round his neck as he slips one arm round her waist and the other beneath her knees. He feels her staring at him, but he doesn't dare return the look, not when they are so close. He wouldn't be able to be held accountable for his actions if he did. "What is it now?"
"I said help me, not treat me like I'm some helpless, damsel in distress."
"Hey, you said it, not me," he whispers as he tosses the keys from his fingers and onto her lap. "Make yourself useful, Damsel, and unlock the door." He knows she will make him pay for that later, but right then, he is pleased to see the smile in her eyes, even if her face is still stiff with anger.
"Alpha male," She whispers, her eyes still smiling.
"Stubborn," he retorts as she swings the door open.
He carries her to his couch and as he sets her down, he hears her say, "Arrogant."
He grins, "Smartass..."
She glares at him, "Jerk."
He leans forward, his hands pressed on either side of her, his face just inches from hers. He smiles when he hears her breath hitch, "Beautiful." He whispers, and her eyes widen. Before he can try to cover his tracks, she leans forward and kisses him gently.
He reaches out to stroke her cheeks, his fingertips running over her scabbed skin. He remembers then why she is there, what happened that day, and they both pull back. She sighs, resting her forehead against his, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." He sees a flash of hurt in her eyes and knows she's misunderstood him. He grasps her chin with his finger and forces her to look him in the eyes, "I'm not sorry it happened, okay?" She nods, smiling, "Do you, uh… want a beer?"
She nods, and once he's disappeared into the kitchen, she closes her eyes, knowing it will be easier to tell him what happened if he's not looking at her with those scared eyes. "He was in my apartment when I came home from work last night. It was dark, and I didn't notice him. Even if I had, he'd been waiting, and he had my bat… there wouldn't have been much more I could've done." She opens her eyes to find him kneeling before her, two beers in his hands.
"Keep going," he whispers, taking her hand in his.
AN: Obviously, not a one-shot. I'm not that evil. Do you like:)
