A/N: Thanks again to all those who reviewed - you keep me writing and away from my actual work!
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Bones.
Chapter 4 - Tired and Emotional
Rob Anderson's dark blue eyes widened when he heard the woman call his partner's name in shock. Turning to Booth, he asked, surprised, "You know these chicks?"
Booth squinted through his blurry vision, examining them both closely, before nodding drunkenly, "Yep."
Looking back at the stunned expressions on their faces, Anderson patted his friend on the shoulder. "Good luck, man," he yelled, before making a fast exit into the crowd of people. When he'd reached what he judged to be a safe distance, he glanced back to see Booth being half-led, half-dragged out of the club by the two women, and congratulated himself on getting out while he could.
Outside, Brennan watched Booth stumble to a halt, unable to believe what she had just witnessed.
"What the hell are you doing?" Angela yelled, clearly feeling the same way as Temperance.
"What the hell does it look like?" he shouted back, even though the street was silent.
"It looks like you're way past your limit," she said coldly. "What are you playing at, Booth? Was that jerk in there your partner? Who was that girl?"
He blinked for a moment as he tried to process all her questions. Finally he spoke, as coherently as he could manage, "Yes, that jerk is my partner. No, I have no idea who the girl was. And I was trying to get laid before you came along."
"What is wrong with you?" Angela asked in disgust.
He laughed, but, to Brennan, it seemed cold and unfamiliar. "Wrong?" he asked incredulously, taking a step forward. "What's wrong is that I just got dragged away from a really hot girl to be pulled outside and given the third degree by people I don't even work with anymore!" Rant over, he took another step forward towards Angela with a strange glint in his eye that made Temperance's blood run cold.
"Although," he began, looking Angela up and down, "You could always make it up to me..."
The sound of her slap echoed loudly in the dark street and Booth staggered back, hand to his cheek, while Brennan's eyes widened in shock at what her friend just did.
Angela met her eyes and shook her head, at a loss as to what to do next. Taking a deep breath, Brennan stepped forward towards her former partner, speaking gently, "Booth, you shouldn't be acting like this. It isn't like you."
He snorted with laughter, "Not exactly like you either, is it, Temperance?"
She felt uneasy as he emphasised her first name but challenged, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," he started, moving slowly towards her, "That I don't ever remember you coming out to places like this before. What's the matter? Bones not enough for you anymore?"
His words stung, but she tried to remain calm, "You're drunk. You just need to go and sleep it off."
"What do you care?" he spat back, angrily. "You're not my partner anymore. Why are you still bothering me?"
"Because we were friends," she said, meeting his eyes. "I don't want to see you hurt yourself."
"Do I look like I'm hurting myself?!" he yelled, getting angrier. "I was having a good time! Remember those?!" Suddenly realisation dawned on him and he lowered his tone, "Or maybe that's really why you got involved? Hmm, Temperance?" She frowned in confusion and he continued, cruelly, "Couldn't stand seeing me with someone else? Is that it?"
"Don't be ridiculous," she said, trying to ignore the fact that her heart was racing.
"That's it, isn't it?" he said triumphantly, "You think I don't know what was going through your mind all the time we were working together? Hell, most of the time I wanted to just throw you down on that big glowy table and do it there." He suddenly laughed sharply, making Brennan and Angela jump. "But there's only so long a guy can hold out, you know?"
"Is that why you left?" she asked bravely, not really wanting to hear the answer.
He moved in close to her, close enough that she could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Are you surprised?" he retorted, meeting her eyes. "I'd have thought you'd be used to people leaving you. Your parents, your brother, all those boyfriends... I figured you'd have it down by now."
Temperance felt like she'd been slapped across the face. Involuntary tears began to well up in her eyes and she turned quickly away, not wanting to let him see her cry. Without looking back, she walked swiftly to one of the cabs idling further down the street, hearing Angela's high heels click on the pavement as she ran after her.
"Bren, wait!" she called, desperately. Catching up to her, she said, sympathetically, "Bren, I'm sorry..."
Temperance shook her head, ignoring the tears trickling down her cheeks. "You've got nothing to apologise for."
Angela put her arm round her, and spoke softly, "He didn't mean it. He's just drunk, and stupid, and, well, drunk. You know Booth would never mean to hurt you."
She laughed mirthlessly, "I think he's made it pretty clear that I don't know him anymore." She met Angela's eyes, which were filled with compassion. Straightening, she wiped her tears away and spoke confidently, "I'm fine, Ange. I just want to get home."
"You want me to come with you?" Angela asked with concern.
"No, I just need to be on my own tonight," she said, sincerely. Giving her a slight smile, she added, "I'll see you tomorrow?"
Her friend nodded and hugged her gently, "I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, sweetie."
Temperance sank into the cab and gave her address, feeling the tears fill her eyes again. She saw Angela getting into another taxi and gave her a half-hearted wave as she drove off. As she passed the entrance to the club, she looked instinctively for Booth, but wasn't sure whether to be happy or sad when she didn't see him.
Booth watched from the dark alley next to the club as the yellow taxi sped past with Temperance Brennan peering anxiously out of the back window. Leaning against the wall, he slid slowly to the ground, not paying any attention to the garbage littering the concrete.
His head was pounding and he felt nausea rising in his throat. Dragging himself back to his feet with a groan, he retched into an open dumpster, throwing up until he had nothing left in him. As he sank back to the floor, his head was spinning with all the events that had happened that night. Coming to the club with Anderson, dancing with the blonde girl, seeing Brennan and Angela, the argument... He felt sick again as he remembered the look of hurt on Temperance's face before she left.
He rested his head on his knees, wanting to make the memory go away. Booth didn't think he'd ever sobered up as quickly as this before and the hammering in his skull seemed to agree with him. How the hell could I say that to her? he wondered, hating himself for it. What's the matter with me? God, I sounded just like... He closed his eyes as it hit him. Anderson.
Thinking back to the events of the last three weeks, Booth felt shame wash over him as he realised what he had done. I needed to integrate with them, he told himself miserably. But I never meant for it to go this far. I was supposed to observe, keep a level head, but I couldn't. And now... He put his head in his hands as the image of his former partner filled his mind once again.
Sudden determination filled him and he got to his feet, feeling the world spin as he did so. He knew he should go home and sleep it off, but his harsh words echoed constantly in his mind. Overwhelmed with guilt, he walked as quickly as he could out of the alley, desperate to find some way to fix what he'd done.
The clock next to the bed displayed 3.16am in bright green lights.
It had been over two and a half hours since Brennan had got out of the taxi and the pillow was still wet with her tears. She had made it back to her apartment before letting herself cry properly, but once she'd started, it was impossible to stop. Booth's words echoed constantly in her mind and the more she had thought about them, the more true they seemed.
Going to bed, she'd hoped that she would just fall asleep and be able to think again with a clear mind in the morning. But every time she closed her eyes, she pictured the cruel look on her ex-partner's face as he taunted her. She tossed and turned in her bed, getting more and more annoyed that she had let him get to her.
Why should I listen to him? she thought, trying her best to be rational. I don't work with him anymore, he was very, very drunk, he doesn't know what he's talking about... Why am I upset over what he said? Why do I care about his opinions? Why am I still thinking about him? Again and again, she asked herself the same questions, but a small voice in the back of her mind kept answering. Because he's Booth.
She was strangely glad when she heard a noise by her front door, and jumped quickly out of bed, happy to be distracted from her thoughts. Grabbing the baseball bat from under her bed, she slowly made her way into the main area of the apartment, half hoping that it was an intruder, just so that she would be able to take out her frustration on someone.
She stopped when she heard the supposed intruder knock firmly on the door. Still holding the bat in one hand, she unlocked the door and opened it on the chain, looking out through the small gap.
The bat clattered to the floor as she saw a dishevelled Booth standing outside her door, looking down at the floor in shame. Seeing the door open, he met her eyes and asked quietly, "Can I come in?"
Next one'll be up some time this weekend. Please review if you can.
Thanks for reading.
