Booth jumped on the karaoke stage, with a look disgust, and hurt clouding his handsome features.
"I'm going to sing religious song, by Jimmy Needham, so if anyone wants to leave then you can now." Booth told the crowd, who laughed, no one left, except it was clear that Booth was only asking Brennan if she wanted to leave.
Because lately she was attacking his realign more and more, she was going against everything that couldn't be proved right in front of her, personally. It was obviously hurting him, and so the big hunk of FBI sexiness was going to sing, to Brennan. The do do do's started, and Booth smiled bitterly at Brennan, then started.
"Am I foolishness to you?
And is it laughable the things I do?
Can your callused minds see past yourselves to His divine?
Am I foolishness to you?
Can I sing about my Maker?
And have you not roll your eyes
Can I weep about my Savior?
And the way He died
I know it don't make sense
To those who ride the fence
But I'm sold out to Christ"
Booth was still staring at Brennan, and she was staring at him, too. Do do do...
"You call it loosening up
Loosening up
I call it spiraling down
Only one thing's the same
Only one thing remains
Jesus, Jesus
Can I sing about my Maker?
And have you not roll your eyes
Can I weep about my Savior?
And the way He died
I know it don't make sense
To those who ride the fence
But I'm sold out to Christ
You're all asleep
You're all asleep
You're all asleep oh children
But He's over needed
You don't see it, no
Can I sing about my Maker?
And have you not roll your eyes
Can I weep about my Savior?
And the way He died
I know it don't make sense
To those who ride the fence
But I'm sold out to Christ
Can I sing about my Maker?
And have you not roll your eyes
Can I weep about my Savior?
And the way He died
I know it don't make sense
To those who ride the fence
But I'm sold out to Christ"
Booth shook his head, still annoyed, as the cheers started. Then he bowed, with his eyes still on Brennan, and then when the cheers died down, he sat right next to her. He was still looking at her, waiting for a response, he was nervous, playing with his big, strong, experienced, steady hands.
She didn't say anything. Not one word. She wouldn't give him the pleasure, the satisfaction.
Everyone at the Jeffersonian Squint Squad booth was silent, also waiting. They knew when something was up with the 'just partners, just friends'. They also knew that Booth and Brennan had to work it out alone.
"I'm sorry." Brennan whispered under her breath, and her hands started shaking so, slowly, silently and softly, it went unnoticed by everyone else. Her eyes were haunted, dark, there was a pain radiating from those deep eyes, which Booth could not understand. Angela stared at Hodgins, surprised, and solemn.
Booth pulled her hands inside of his, which were so much bigger, while hers were soft, fragile. Just like the walls around her heart, the walls that were tumbling down. "I'm sorry, Booth." She whispered, again, pleading with him for forgiveness, for a second chance.
Booth let go of her hand deliberately, slowly, and hesitantly. His eyes were also haunted.
"Sorry doesn't cut it, this time, Temperance." Booth whispered against her ear, he pulled a loose hair behind her ear, slowly. Then her hands started shaking more violently, and she gripped the table for support, to stop her thrashing fingers from being noticed.
The way she was chastising herself, for not expecting this, was evident on the delicate features of her face that usually kept all her secrets. She was vulnerable, raw, turned inside out.
Then Booth got up from his chair, and started to walk away, with his head held high, with out looking back.
He had a smug smile infecting his features, but it was just because he was leaving behind what he needed most, and he was trying to hide behind his smile, a smug smile that could break her heart. That was breaking down her carefully placed walls.
Brennan looked at her uncontrollably shivering hands, and then a tear almost fell from her red eyes, but she closed them just in time. That didn't hide her pouting lips, though.
No one could move, Angela was frozen in place; Hodgins was tightly holding her hand, shocked. Cam's eyes were wide, her glass of red wine was long forgotten, along with the cigarettes in her purse, that were tempting her a moment ago.
Actually the only one who was doing anything was Sweets.
"Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, we're going to my office, to discuss what just happened." He said, firmly, and when Booth turned around he was fuming.
"No." Booth said, simply, in an end-of-discussion kind of way.
"Or I'm going to server your partnership!" Sweets looked desperate.
"I don't even want to work with her anymore, so your threats are useless."
"What? Booth, what did I do? I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything, for anything. Just don't do this!" Brennan was also desperate; I mean she was pleading.
"I don't want to, but you've left me with no choice."
"What did I do? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She asked, but Booth was silent. "Damn it, Booth, what did I do this time?" She was frantic.