This asked me to write it and I couldn't say no. Just a short little fic inspired by David's 'singing' in DDoftheDD. It made me cringe (and laugh) almost as much as I did all those years ago when he crooned 'Mandy' for the Host. :D

"I have to compliment you on your distraction technique earlier today, Booth," said Brennan, sitting opposite him at their usual table in the diner. "I find it highly commendable that you are willing, in the pursuit of justice, to embarrass yourself in public if the situation requires it."

"What are you on about now, Bones?"

Her partner poured sugar in his coffee and stirred.

"Your obvious commitment to your job of course. The FBI should be grateful they have an agent on staff who's prepared to go the above and beyond the call of duty at his own expense."

"Yes, they should," he agreed with a grin. "Now tell me again why I should be asking for a raise." In words of one syllable please.

"Your inability to sing, Booth. You led the wake in a song when you are ill-equipped to do so, thereby preventing me and Hodgins from being discovered while we analysed the tea in the kitchen. If that were me I don't think I would have been brave enough to show myself up like that."

"I did it to diffuse a situation between the dead guy's wife and his girlfriend, Bones. And I can too sing!"

She snorted.

Booth looked hurt.

"Oh, you're serious? Well then I think it falls to me as your friend to inform you that you are mistaken."

"I can too sing." He said it a little quieter this time. "Sure, Simon Cowell might disagree, but what does he know anyway. My Ranger buddies and I used to have karaoke nights all the time. They never said anything and army guys don't exactly go out of their way to tell you what you wanna hear."

"Were they sober?" He didn't answer. "Besides, where karaoke is concerned, apparently the louder and more off-key you sing the better." She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes. "You're tone deaf, Booth. I've heard you sing on several occasions in the past and today only confirmed what I already knew. You couldn't hold a tune if your life depended on it."

"That is not true," he protested. "Ok, so maybe I'm no Cyndi Lauper like you but I'm not that bad."

"I think you are. There's no shame in it. A number of things might be responsible from poor musical perception to an inability to properly control your vocal system. Nobody's perfect Booth. I, for example, am generally considered to be a good athlete however my hand/eye co-ordination in ball games is often somewhat less than satisfactory. I accept that fact."

"You are not a good athlete Bones. You run like a girl!" And apparently you throw like one too.

"The structure of the pelvis is very similar in boys and girls up to a certain age, Booth, and has no influence on how a young person runs. Puberty may change that fact as the ilia widen in young women, but even then to say that all females run a certain way is a gross generalisation."

He sighed. "It's just an expression Bones."

"It's erroneous."

"According to you most of them are."

"That's not true either. Many hackneyed sayings have truth in their content. That's how they become clichés in the first place."

"Ok, Bones, I give." Having a conversation with her sometimes caused him more frustration than he was prepared to contend with. He pushed his chair back and dug in his pocket for a twenty. "If I admit that I can't sing very well, will you admit that you can't run?"

"But I can run."

Not like a normal person you can't.

"Then I can sing." Booth put the money down on the table and stood up.

"But you can't."

"Can too."

"This isn't a matter of opinion Booth, it's a fact."

"Let's just go." He put his hand at the small of her back and ushered her towards the door.

"You really do sing very badly."

"No worse than you run, Bones."

Thanks for the R&R. J.