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I reluctantly take a step away from her and look at the long lost poker chip that sent me into despair and curse it for having gone missing and for supplying this moment of potential between Temperance and myself. If only this had happened yesterday I may not have ended up in the well of self pity that I was in this morning and am only beginning to climb out of now.
The doorbell rings and I get up to answer the door, but Brennan rushes past me. I follow behind her to see who it is because after all, this is my apartment. She is wearing one of my t-shirts and a pair of my sweat pants that cause her to trip over the excess material every few steps and I can't help but find it adorable. She opens the door and Angela is on the other side with a concerned expression and a duffel bag in hand.
"Thanks for bringing this over Ange. I really appreciate it." She says, taking the bag out of Angela's grasp and hoisting it over the shoulder. Before it lands on her, I grab the strap and take it out of her grasp. She looks as though she is about to protest but she stops herself, giving me a half hearted smile knowing that it is symbolic in someway of me getting back the part of me that was lost.
Angela stands at the door, looking back and forth between Brennan and myself, "How are you doing?" she asks me quietly.
I nod and look down at my feet, "I'm okay." I tell her. It's such a vague question that people normally graze over and I don't see the pettiness of it until now. The answer will always be 'okay' or 'fine' no matter who answers it, and the vagueness of which the question is posed in is almost offensive. I know she doesn't mean to be a generic friend, but I can't help but feel slighted by the benign attempt at comfort; especially when that is the first thing that everyone will ask me over the course of the next week with just the hint of subtext of pity.
She nods her head and looks down the street as a means to fill up the awkward silence that has overpowered the conversation, "Well," she says, fiddling her fingers then pulling her jacket tighter around her small frame, "If you need anything…" she says looking at both of us.
"Thanks Ange." Brennan says, smiling at her friend. Angela turns and walks down the stairs and Brennan closes the door behind her and turns smiling at me.
"You okay?" she says stroking my arm. I close my eyes and turn away from her and bring her bag into my bedroom. I can hear her following me and as I put her bag on the floor next to my bed she speaks up, "What are you doing?" she asks and I can hear the slight irritation in her voice that feels like home to me.
"Putting your bag down." I say, with a slight hint of amusement in my voice.
I turn and see her arms crossed defensively in front of her, "This is your bedroom, Booth."
I look at the bed and turn around to look at my dresser and turn back to her, "Huh… so it is." I say shrugging and brushing past her back toward the living room.
She follows me again. She would make a terrible stalker. I sit down on the couch and turn up the volume on the TV and prop my feet up on the coffee table in front of me.
"I'm not sleeping in your bedroom." She says, plopping down on the couch next to me, arms still crossed defiantly.
"Yes, you are." I tell her, with no room in my voice for weakness. I flip the channels until I happen upon the Iron Chef and sink down lower into the couch.
We sit silently for a moment and I can feel her thinking over an argument, "It's your bed, Booth. I'm not taking your bed. I can… sleep in Parker's room or on the couch."
The image of her sleeping Parker's bed makes me laugh silently, "You won't be comfortable in Parker's bed. He has one of those racecar beds that are built for a child to sleep in."
She shifts down on the couch, testing it for comfort, "The couch is suitable."
I shake my head, "You're not sleeping on the couch. I will be fine out here, you should sleep in my bed."
"You'll be more comfortable in your own bed." She replies.
"I'll be more comfortable knowing that you are comfortable in my bed." I say, now turning to her. She is staring at the television with her lips pursed.
"Fine." She says and I believe that I have won the argument until she says, "Either we both sleep in the bed or neither of us do." I'm taken aback by how forward she is being. She turns to look at me and I can tell by her set jaw that she is completely serious, "And don't you dare think that you can move me after I fall asleep." She says curling up on the other end of the couch as though to go to sleep.
I exhale loudly, so that she knows how infuriating she can be, "Fine." I say. I stand up, turn off the TV and stretch. She is looking at me curiously and without regard or warning I scoop her up in my arms and take her to the bedroom.
"Booth!" she yells, "Put me down this instant!" She is trying to wriggle out of my grasp, but I have a firm hold on her and she isn't going anywhere. I reach the bed and unceremoniously drop her onto the mattress, "That was unnecessary." She says as I walk around to the other side and get comfortable under the covers.
"If you wanted to sleep with me Bones, all you had to do was say so." I smile at her and she laughs grabbing the sheets from beneath her and moving under the covers with me.
She turns toward the lamp next to the bed and turns it off and darkness takes over the room. I feel her shifting on the other side of the bed trying to make herself more comfortable. If I'm going to be honest with myself, her close proximity makes me uneasy, especially in such an intimate atmosphere. Every movement I make I feel like she is dissecting to the point where I think I might even be breathing too loudly.
"Hey Bones." I whisper and I can hear the sheets rumple as she turns toward me.
"Yeah Booth?"
"You aren't going to leave me are you?" I ask. I hear her breath hitch and I realize that she had asked me this question once before. Perhaps she is surprised that she isn't the only one of us scared of loosing the other.
"Never." She whispers and moves closer to me. She wraps an arm around my waist and I pull her closer to me and that is how we wake in the morning; entangled together, desperately clinging to each other praying that neither of us will have to know from this point on what it's like to live without each other again.
