A Bad, Bad, Bad Idea
He can barely breathe. The air is too thick. The room they're in is too tiny, too stuffy.
It's too much.
He groans softly and nudges Brennan with his head. "This was a bad idea," he tells her for the fifth time in as many minutes. "A bad, bad, bad idea."
Brennan sighs in exasperation but doesn't answer.
He stands still for a moment, but the discomfort settles back in and he has to do something. Anything. He shifts slightly and he can feel Brennan's back pushing into his chest. She's warm. Very warm. So very, very...
"Did I mention it was bad?" he asks, trying to keep his mind off of the heat emanating from the closeness of his partner.
"Yes, Booth. Numerous times." Her voice suggests annoyance and he is oddly hurt by that.
"Well, it is bad!" he reasons.
"I know. I know it's bad. But talking about it isn't helping matters any. Would you please just shut the hell up?"
"Nice, Bones, being polite there in telling me to shut up."
He can picture in his mind the crooked smile on her face.
"I...thank you, I suppose," she says.
"Any time, Bones. Any time."
"Next time I suggest we hide out in a storage closet - or any room of this size or smaller - shoot me. Please."
"Booth! I'd never shoot you!" she protests. "Well. Not on purpose anyway. Unless it was to save your life."
"How would shooting me save my life?" he throws back, narrowing his eyes. He shakes his head in confusion. "Nevermind. I don't want to know. Anyway. There are more pressing matters to contend with."
"Like getting the hell out of here!" he jabs his finger forward, regretting it immediately. It rams into the door of the closet. "Ow!"
"Oh! Booth! Are you okay?"
"Ow, ow, ow. Owww!"
Brennan takes hold off his wrist and bending it back awkwardly, studies the injured finger. Her hands are firm but gentle and he misses her touch the moment she lets go. "It's not broken."
"Oh, good. That's good." He barely manages to keep the disappointment from his voice. He'd happily have a broken finger if it meant she'd keep touching him.
"Anyway, as I was saying..."
"We need to find a way out of here?"
"Well. I imagine it won't be too hard. If we both lean forward and push the door, our combined strength may be able to open it."
Before he's thought about where that will land them, he answers. "Hmmm. Yeah. Let's try that."
He realises his mistake immediately.
There is not enough space for him to push on the door from beside Brennan and he can't get past her to push on it from in front of her because that would take some expert maneuvering. He will have to press up against her in order to properly apply pressure to the door.
"Booth? What are you waiting for?"
"Nothing. Not a thing." He eases forward, puts one hand on the door either side of her head and tries again not to think of the lack of space surrounding them and the way she seems to fit to his form. She places her hands inside of his.
Together, they push.
Their bodies press against one another and if it had been another situation, it would have been a very different atmosphere. More romantic, less frantically trying to get out. Yeah.
He pushes harder, but nothing happens.
"I don't think it's going to work."
"Nooooo, really, Bones?"
"You don't have to be mean about it, Booth."
He sighs. Loudly. "I know. I'm sorry. I just...I hate, hate, hate small spaces."
"Are you claustrophobic?"
"Not in the strictest sense of the word. But anyone who likes being cramped up like this has got to be out of their minds!"
She moves back a little and he gulps.
Her question startles him and he tries to wipe clean his thoughts. When she presses into him some more, it's made all the much harder.
Something jabs him in the leg.
"Bones! Your cell phone!"
"What about it?"
He groans and smacks his head gently into the back of hers.
"Oh! Oh yeah. I don't think I can reach it though. Can you get it out?"
He swallows some more. "Sure, Bones."
He awkwardly reaches for the phone, slipping two fingers into her pocket to fish it out. He holds his breath until the phone is safely in his hands and out of Brennan's pocket. "Got it. Who should I call?"
"We'll never hear the end of this. Hodgins?"
"He'll tell Angela and we'll never hear the end of this. Maybe Cam?"
"So, I'm thinking Zach then."
He dials the number and listens to it ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring...
"Ahh, Zach! I've never been so happy to hear your voice before!"
"Yeah, that's right."
"What can I do for you? No. Wait. What are you calling me for? Are you trying to reach Dr Brennan?"
"No, no. I know where Brennan is. She's...right here. I'm calling for you."
"Oh. All right."
"Actually, I was hoping you could come help us out. We seem to have gotten ourselves into a...situation of sorts."
Brennan hisses that it was he who got them into their current situation. He blocks it out. Only just.
"Okay..." Zach says.
He gives Zach the address and directions. "You got that?"
"I've got it."
"Also, we're kind of stuck in the closet in the first bedroom you come to when you enter the house."
"Good. We'll see you soon. And Zach? Don't tell anyone else about this, okay?"
"Hodgins and Angela are on their way. I put you on speakerphone."
Planting the palm of his free hand over his face, he groans.
"This is a bad, bad day," he says to no one in particular. "Bad day, bad idea."
"I have to go now." Zach hangs up and the dial tone rings in his ear.
He slaps the door with his hands. "Great. Just...great."
"We're never going to hear the end of this."
"Why? What's going on?"
He frowns. "You didn't hear? I thought you'd be close enough there to hear."
"It was really muffled. I could only make out a few things."
"Ahh. Well. Hodgins and Angela are on their way to pick us up."
"Hodgins and Angela? I thought you were calling Zach."
"I did. He put me on speakerphone."
"We're never going to hear the end of this."
He slumps back against the wall behind him. "This was a bad, bad, bad idea."