BONES
Booth is nervous, I conclude. He hasn't managed to stay still since we arrived at his apartment some minutes ago. First, it was finding the pillow, sheet and blanket for the couch. Next, he was closing the blinds on every window in the apartment, followed by him stashing guns and weapons through the apartment, including the gun tucked into the head of the sofa should I need it.
"Just don't shoot me, again," he warns. My mouth falls open and I turn to look at him.
"Once!" I defend. "I shot you once! And it was a ricochet, so it doesn't count."
"A bullet went into my leg," he retorts, "It counts." We laugh nervously together. It's a conversation we've had many times, but not at such a dire time.
The moment quickly fades. He is on the move again as I watch and make my bed for the night.
"Keep the blinds closed." I choose to overlook the fact he spoke as though it was an order. I am having a difficult enough time not allowing my own fears to take control.
"I understand." Not really. Our shadows against the blinds can be seen clearly from the street. The white lie is all I have to offer.
"You know what? Just stay away from the windows to be safe." That was at least a little more rational than his last thought but still far from accurate. Broadsky proved today he doesn't need to see his target to kill them.
"Safe, yes," I again fib. He seems to feel better for it, walking towards me and holding out an offering hand.
"Alright, listen, Bones. Let me sleep on the couch, alright? You can have the bed." It was absurd for him to even think I'd allow such a suggestion.
"No. No. I'm smaller. I – I can fit on the couch. Plus, you have to kill Broadsky. You need your sleep."
He laughs.
"That's very logical." His affirmation makes me smile.
"Thank you, yes." By the time the pillowcase is on the pillow, Booth has stepped away and returned with a piece of clothing, holding it outstretched to me.
"Oh, is this sweatshirt going to be okay?" I nod my approval on the sweatshirt as I reach for it.
"Yes, It'll be fine. Thank you."
"Alright, let me help you with the—" He tries to take the pillow from me.
"No, I can… I can make the bed."
"Right. Alright." He sighs and walks to his bedroom, then pauses to face me again. The look on his face suggests he may wish to say more, but he seems to dismiss it.
"Goodnight, Bones," he calls to me quietly.
"Goodnight Booth."
I watch as he closes door, then I am left alone with only my thoughts and fears to keep me company.