After leading her up from the back yard, he closed the bedroom door behind them. He noticed that Andrew had put her bags on the chest at the foot of his bed. Their bed, now again, he amended.
They undressed each other slowly, she could feel his hands shaking as he undid the buttons on her shirt. She grasped them in hers and stilled them against her chest. When she let them go, they were surer as they removed the rest of her clothes. When they stood naked on the carpet, they ghosted their hands over one another, reacquainting themselves with each other. As they touched the places that each of them knew so well, they groaned and cried out in pleasure, not attempting to hide the euphoria of being together again.
Moving to the bed, Boone reached down and threw the covers back, pushing her down against the white cotton of the sheets. Even caught up in the intensity of the moment, he still felt the fear that the memory of the last time they'd made love held for him. "Shhhh, it's alright," she caught the thought he had in his head, and wanted to banish his concern. It had been so long, she'd forgotten what it was like to be able to be right inside his thoughts. "I'm here for you. Please make love to me, Boone."
He slid himself on to her, and moved gently against her, fighting to retain control of himself. It had been too long, and he didn't want to reveal to her that he hadn't had sex since that night six years ago; knowing full well that she'd undoubtedly had numerous partners. When he came, it was violent and unrestrained, she felt him shaking even after it was over. She gently stroked her fingers up and down his spine, barely touching his skin, willing him to relax. She felt his muscles unknot as his body pressed harder against her. She heard his breathing slow, and was surprised when she realized that he'd fallen asleep. She considered sliding him off, but he weighed so little against her, that, without disturbing him, she reached for the blankets and drew them over themselves, crossing her arms over his back, and adjusting herself to the weight of him on her chest.
She awoke some time later. In his sleep he'd rolled over onto his back and she now lay in her accustomed position, pressed up against his left side, her head on his shoulder. She'd never once slept like that with any other man, insisting instead on no physical contact whatsoever, during sleep. It was an anomaly she'd never considered before that moment. She felt a presence in her mind, knowing immediately it wasn't Boone, and wondered who had woken her up. She realized that there was light in the room coming from the hall. Knowing he'd closed the bedroom door when they'd come upstairs, she raised her head from his shoulder and looked toward the foot of the bed. Andrew was standing there looking at the two of them.
"What?" she asked frowning, sitting up.
He raised his finger to his lips and nodded his head at his still sleeping father. 'Quiet, you'll wake Boone.' He thought at her.
'Jesus, I forgot you could do this too.' She was disturbed by the fact that he'd come in their room the way he had. She checked to be sure the blankets were pulled up to cover herself.
'It's pretty obvious that you got him to agree to let you stay,' he observed.
'Yeah, it is,' she acknowledged. She realized the absurdity of having this conversation with their son, while she lay in bed beside Boone, having just had sex with him.
'You hurt him pretty bad when you left,' he laughed silently at how that minimalized the destruction she'd left in her wake.
'I hurt myself too,' she wanted him to know it hadn't been easy for her either.
'If you hurt him again, if you make him cry, if you make him feel the slightest bit guilty, sad, or despairing, you'll live to regret that day. Know that. Know that I'll make you regret you ever came back. I'm your son too, and I'm a vindictive brat, guess I just come by it naturally.' He made his warning very, very clear to her.
Her eyes widened in surprise, both at the intent of what he'd said, and the words. 'You sure you're only eight?' She sidestepped the implied threat.
'Nine next week,' he reminded her of his birthday. June 21st was only a week away. 'I've lived my life mostly in his head, I grew up pretty quick.'
'Yeah, I guess you did.' She smiled at him sadly. 'I'll be careful with him, I promise.'
'He's not like us; he's not as strong. And what you did to him…' he shook his head. 'I love him…and I won't see him hurt.'
'I love him too…but I can't promise that I won't hurt him. Just know that if I do, it won't be intentional. I'm not going to leave him again, that I can promise you.' She felt fierce pride at how protective he was of Boone.
'Okay, truce then…till I get to know you better.' He pursed his lips and nodded at her in resignation.
'Truce,' she agreed.
'Night then, Shan,' he turned to go.
'Night, Andrew,' she lay back down.
The next time she woke it was the middle of the night. She could feel that Boone was already awake. "You hungry?" he asked, sliding his hand over her arm.
"I could eat." She allowed.
"Okay," he moved to get out of bed.
They padded quietly down the back stairs to the kitchen, not wanting to wake Andrew. Boone felt guilty that he hadn't gotten dinner ready for his son, but smiled when he saw the note on the kitchen table. "Boone: I cheated and had a peanut butter sandwich, so much for you forcing fish down my throat at every meal! A." Laughing, he showed the note to Shannon.
"It must be an inside joke, I don't get it," she handed the paper back to him.
"We eat a lot of fish. The poor kid, I think he believes that I think he's a guppy or something." He crumpled the paper and threw it in the garbage. "What do you want?"
She shrugged, "Anything's fine."
"Do you think you could give me some direction here?" he was surprised that he was starting to recover a bit of his snarkiness.
"French toast, but the way you make it, with the orange juice and the cinnamon." Yeah, she thought, she hadn't had his French toast in years, and she suddenly had a craving for it.
He moved around the kitchen preparing what she'd requested. Finishing, he put the plate in front of her. "Aren't you having anything?" she asked.
"Uh, I don't eat much." he hung his head, as if ashamed of something.
"You're too thin." She tipped her head, suddenly concerned. "What's going on here Boone?"
"I, uh, I had a bout with an eating disorder. I'm okay now, but I still just don't eat that much." He still couldn't meet her gaze.
"Tell me," she demanded, knowing there was more that he was leaving out.
"After you left," he started tentatively, taking a breath he continued, "I fell apart. I couldn't function. They had me on a suicide watch for a while. If it weren't for Andrew I wouldn't be here for you to come back to. He was the only reason I tried to stay with it. Even after they let me come home, I couldn't function normally for months. When I said you had no idea how your leaving affected me, I meant it. It didn't help that my bitch of a mother kept throwing it in my face."
"Jesus, Boone, you're right, I had no idea." She got up and got another plate from the cupboard, she slipped the second piece of French toast onto it. "Eat. Please?" She looked at him, she'd known that he'd had suicidal tendencies in the past; he'd made that clear. She didn't pursue it any further, knowing they'd have another opportunity to discuss it.
He picked at the food. Suddenly his shoulders started to shake, he dropped the fork on the plate and covered his face with his hands. "What am I doing? God, I'm an idiot. Why am I doing this to myself again?"
She was out of the chair in an instant, moving to stand behind him, rubbing his shoulder and stroking his hair. "Shhh, don't. I'm not going anywhere, please believe me."
A movement on the stairs caught her eye. Andrew was standing on the bottom step, watching them. He shot her a look of warning.
Crossing the room to his father, he asked, "Boone? Are you okay?" He waited intently for a response.
Boone nodded; he dropped his hands from his face and gave Andrew a weak smile. "Yeah, bud, I'm fine. It's just a lot to deal with all at once. What're you doing up?"
"I felt that you were upset, I wanted to make sure you were okay." He looked meaningfully at Shannon, stressing the last word.
Boone frowned slightly at the look they exchanged, wondering if something had gone on between the two of them while he slept. "I'm fine," he repeated. "Go back to bed."
Giving Shannon one final glance, he nodded, turned and went back upstairs.
"He's very protective of you," she commented.
"Yes, yes he is. Unfortunately I've given him cause for concern in the past. Poor kid," he sighed. "Come on," he rose, "let's go back to bed. It's late, I'm tired."