This has been sitting on my drive for several weeks now, awaiting uploading, so now I'm finally getting around to it. This is my first oneshot, so I'm not entirely sure how they work...just kinda wrote what was in my head. Refers to Borderline, but wouldn't really call them spoilers. Enjoy!

Matt heard the knocking on his door, pulling him out of the sweet dream he'd been having: a long golden beach, rolling blue waves, and Emily in a bikini. He turned to the clock, and seeing it was 2:00 a.m. he jumped right out of bed. There was only one person it would be, the same only one person that could wake him up at this awful hour and not receive a death-glare.

They had begun this little pattern of theirs just after the case in Mexico. Neither of them had wanted to admit it then, but it had been too much for them. Too much for them to just say it was all in a day's work, and move on with their lives. Too much to pretend that hadn't been literally seconds away from death, and that they hadn't spent who knows how many hours before that dodging bullets and trying to talk their way out of death.

But both in shock and barely able to function had given their statements, and received a hardy slap on the wrist from Cheryl for their "cowboy stunt". After which she told them that she was just relieved to find them both alive; they'd worried her and Lia half to death. Finally they were allowed to leave for their flight home. Exhausted and still too numb to think clearly they had gone to their separate apartments.

Emily fell on to her bed, after changing out of the clothes she'd been wearing for, how long had they been away? She lay staring up at the ceiling, replaying the last several hours in her head, begging the images to stop and let her sleep. Three hours later the slideshow was still flickering, and regardless of how tired her body was, her mind still taunted her.

Then she'd heard the knock. She'd opened her door to find a very weary Matt, who was barely upright as he rested against her doorframe. Without asking a single question, she pulled the door open, letting him walk in past her. After she locked the door they had both silently moved toward her bedroom, where they'd crawled under the covers, both desperate for sleep.

He spooned around her, wrapping his arm around her waist, and pulling her as close as humanly possible. She followed by wrapping her arm overtop of his, and entangling her fingers in the hand by her head, his other arm having found its way around her shoulders. Within an hour they were both asleep, having found the comfort they were desperately lacking. They had used no words.

They'd repeated this several times since then, sometimes it was him going to her apartment, and others like now, it was her going to his apartment. There were few nights that they actually went home separately, and at this point, even fewer that they stayed at their separate apartments. Neither ever asked questions of their late night visitor, and they didn't discuss it the next morning. They didn't need to talk about it.

Just as they didn't tonight, when Matt found himself trudging out to his door, and struggling with the locks on his door as his mind adjusted to its newfound state of waking. Silently he admitted Emily, and together they walked back to his bedroom, and climbed into the bed, eager to cuddle. As usual there were no explanations and no words; one of them came for it, but both needed it.

They were just like that.