Sharing a Bed

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At least Michael wasn't a stranger. It's the thought that resoundingly reverberates through the brunette's cranium as she slips into her pajamas. Had Bonnie anticipated his presence, she might have selected something a touch less scandalous and revealing. As she casts one last glance into the clouded mirror, she reminds herself that there was nothing overtly obscene about what they were about to do. Lots of people share beds after motel mix-ups. Right?

Michael Knight's overnight bag is thrust into a heap in the smallest corner of the room. His leather jacket is shrugged off and he uses the brief privacy to slip on more comfortable pants to sleep in. He can't exactly rely on his usual routine which, entailed sleeping in his boxers and a t-shirt. He was sharing a bed with Bonnie. His seemingly unobtainable person of affection. Perhaps, that is what made her all the more attractive in his eyes. He briefly contemplates making a joke of this situation and yet, a wiser part of him discerns that it could potentially attract her ire. So he doesn't. He allows the humorous remark to die upon the breadth of his tongue. Especially, when she bashfully emerges from the bathroom. Had she ever looked more gorgeous? He doesn't think so. It's hard to pry his eyes off of her.

Barstow hesitantly slides over the bed. She is all too aware of his stunning azure hues lingering upon her every curve. A shade of bing-cherry warms the upper-crests of her cheekbones as she averts her own gaze. Of course, curiosity had compelled her to steal a glance at Michael and what she had seen wasn't entirely revealing or displeasing. He had been respectful of her wishes which made this awkward predicament all the more tolerable. She pushes herself beneath the covers.

A giddy nervousness swells up inside of her as Michael's sturdier form sinks down beside her's.

"Night, Bons." Michael all too casually murmurs as his head hit the pillow. He's tired but his soul feels wide awake. His hands yearn to take hold of her. However, out of respect for her, they dare not act on the basest instinct.

There is a horrible thunder that overtakes her rib-cage at the sleepy utterance of his tongue. It was the most pleasant sound even if she couldn't allow herself to openly confide to such a thing. "Good night." As questionable as the room's cleanliness was, Barstow buries her face into the pillowcase in the hopes that he would not see her blush.

He snuggles in close, far closer than he ought. 'We're just co-workers', Barstow readily reminds herself, as Michael's heated breath plays across the exposed curve of her neck. The warmth of his proximity on the much too small bed causes her own breath to jar. It is highly improper to allow her mind to venture down the path it was so willfully explored. Any relationship with Knight was expressly forbidden and somehow that didn't make it any less desirable. Besides, Michael was a ladies man. He loved them and he left them in puddles of their own tears. She did not want to find herself among that unlucky number in his broken hearts club. She owed herself far better than a one night stand!

Space! Bonnie realized she needed more of it! Michael's 6′4 frame claimed most of the bed's territory. The mechanic's mind screamed out the hopeless potential of things she imagined and it scares her.

Michael had attempted to curl his figure around the furthest edges avoiding the overcrowding of her more petite frame. He's scared of pushing her away and even more petrified to pull her nearer to him. He can't cross this line. Not with her. He'd never forgive himself.

Shifting, Bonnie's fingers lay claim to the blanket and coil it tighter around her shivering frame. She prays it doesn't disrupt his semi-peaceful slumber. However, her attempt is unsuccessful. The very moment she gets herself settled and semi-comfortable there is a harsh tug on the material covering and a sharply issued warning escapes his lips. "Quit hoggin' the blanket!"

Sea-glass orbs flash wide open at his audacity. "Me?! Hogging?!" She hisses with a tack like pointed-edge. "Michael, you hardly left me with any blanket to start with!" She turns her gaze to peer at him through a web of messy dark strands. It didn't help that the stiff fabric was barely big enough to fit the bed, much less provide comfort for one person, let alone two!

Exasperation beckons from the hollows of Knight's lungs and he snips back. "Well, ya. You do have more than half the blanket on your side." His bleary azure orbs narrow, peering right back into her's. His large hand gesticulates to the piece of the bed in question. He briefly contemplates the wisdom of getting Kitt to back him up on this but Michael knows it could be a losing war. Especially, since Kitt has always liked Bonnie better.

"My side?! You've got to be kidding me?!" Bonnie retorts, feeling the urge to slug him in the nearest arm. Still, she manages to resist inflicting physical harm on him. "You are aware that I have no side of the bed given you take up most of it!" Shame colors the expanse of her cheekbones, though she knows she speaks the truth.

"Well. Excuse me." He intentionally elongates the words while his hands raised in a placating fashion. "I wasn't aware I was such an imposition." Knight smartly answers. His pride was clearly wounded. It is obvious in the very inflection of his words. He readies himself to take leave of her, pushing one foot off the bed and then preparing the second one to do the same.

She can feel him abandoning her. Her heart drops into the souls of her own feet with the shifting of the mattress. "No. Michael." Bonnie protests before she can discern the impropriety of the offer. "Please stay." The imploring phrase departs her tongue as more of an order than a humbly gifted suggestion. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be argumentative. It's just I'm freezing, miserable, and I can't sleep." Insomnia was definitely the least of her worries tonight. It was more she couldn't sleep because she had realized deep down that she truly did love him. Not even her doctorates in computer sciences and technology could protect her now.

Sympathy softens the features on Michael's face as he gazes down upon Bonnie's smaller form. She sure is beautiful even when she is, how would Devon say it, miffed? The obnoxious little British voice in his head reminds him of the term he sought. How hadn't he noticed her discomfiture? What kind of gentlemen was he being? "Forgive me, Bons." He adoringly murmurs, slinking carefully back down on to the mattress beside her. The springs give off a willful groan as his full weight returns.

"Forgive you?" The mechanic swallows thickly, the uncertainty reverberating through every syllable of the half posed inquiry. She was the one who ought to ask for forgiveness given she had been a touch selfish. It takes her several minutes to understand for what offense he is beseeching absolution for. "I.." She starts, the rest of her words choking off as Michael's large hands take hold of her middle and reel her and the blanket into his frame. She gasps, her heart takes on its own rendition of turbo-boost. This was crossing the line?! Wasn't it? Panic coils through her every vein and yet, she can not bring herself to push him away.

A strange, smug satisfaction curls across Michael's face as his annoying but none-the-less favorite woman finds solace in the fortitude of his limbs. He can feel his erratic heartbeat echoing the arousal he finds."Is that better?" Knight ponders in something of a delicate sotto-voce tone.

The brunette can feel his sturdy chest pressed flush against her back. His skin radiates the pleasant snugness of furnace in the wintertime. "Much." Comes her nervous utterance in reply. Heavy lids flicker contentedly closed. The horrible quavering of her features gradually wears off as she remains enveloped by him. "Thanks, Michael." Her fingers curl into the case of her pillow to avoid clinging to him, the way she wished to.

There is no stinging note of sarcasm in her hushed gratitude and it draws a groggy smile upon the Flag agent's lips. "Don't mention it." He almost makes mention of how much he loves her. He inhales the floral scent of her perfume and the faintest hint of petrol that lingers on her porcelain skin. His nose finds a home against the slope of her neck. Michael finds himself relishing this moment, knowing full well that she may push him away and deny that this ever happened with the dawning of a new day.

And so it is, with the sounds of each other's frantic heartbeats echoing within their eardrums, they enter into a surprising place of rest. The propriety of the situation is left for later discussion.

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