A.N. Here you go. Because I wanted to give you a little something before you all start to abandon me!

Chapter 14
Stuck in Reverse

"But I've been planning the menu for weeks now!" Angela whined to Brennan. She handed her the digital copy of the 3D rendering so she could file it with all the other evidence.

"I just feel like all we've been doing lately is having drinks and dinners." And drama. "I love spending time with you all, but I'd rather be alone tonight," Brennan explained.

Angela turned off the computer screen and found her keys in her purse.

"Are you mad?" Brennan checked.

Angela was about to deny it, to reassure her friend. But she decided to be honest.

"Kind of. I've been looking forward to this evening for a really long time. I've cleaned up my apartment, bought food for a million people... I've even made vegetarian lasagna, which I hate, just for you."

Brennan did feel bad.

"Please, Brennan," Angela continued. "It'll only be like... 4 hours." She saw Brennan was starting to consider it, so she added another enticing fact. "Plus! Booth will be there..." she finished.

Brennan's face went blank and she wiped an imaginary stain from her skirt. Angela's jaw dropped.

"That's why you don't want to come?"

"No..."

"It is! You don't want to see him."

Brennan sighed.

"Things are really weird between us right now."

"Weird how?"

"I don't know. He's acting all... strange."

"Are you sure you're not imagining things?" Angela tried.

"Maybe. But it's still uncomfortable."

"Then... I'll disinvite him!"

"You can't do that! He'll know it's because of me. Then he'll get even weirder."

Angela found the perfect thing to say. Maybe it wasn't right, maybe she should have let it go, but she really wanted her best friend to be there.

"And you think things will go back to normal when he realizes you're avoiding him?"

You could never go wrong with logic.

"Fine. Do you need me to bring anything?"

"Vegetarian lasagna?"

"I thought you said..."

Angela's wicked smile tainted with a sparkle of shame interrupted her.

"I'll see you tonight, then," she concluded.

***

They had been through rough spots before. They would easily survive this tense situation. Brennan took a deep breath as she waited for Angela to open the door.

"Hi, sweetie." She greeted her with a kiss on the cheek before taking the lasagna from her hands. "Thanks for this."

Brennan took off her coat and hung it in the closet.

"When are the others getting here?" she asked.

"They're probably on their way. Except Booth."

Brennan fixed her eyes on Angela.

"You told him not to come?" she said, a little panicky.

"No, he called and said he couldn't make it."

Angela fled to the kitchen with Brennan at her heels.

"Why?" Why are you disappointed?

"He didn't say."

She watched as Angela put her homemade dish in the oven. She should have been relieved Booth had cancelled. She wouldn't have to deal with anything for now. Then why was she sighing inwardly, thinking this would be a long evening?

"Do you want some wine?" Angela proposed, pouring herself a glass.

"No, thanks. Maybe while we eat."

She washed her hands, ready to help prepping the lettuce, when they both heard a knock.

"Could you get the door?" Angela asked. "And if it's Sweets, tell him he can set his karaoke machine in the living room."

"You let him bring his karaoke machine?" Brennan verified.

"He wouldn't stop begging me."

Good thing Booth isn't coming, she smiled, easily imagining how he would pester, cringe and sigh during the whole 3 minutes and a half of The Lime in the Coconut.

Still smiling, she opened the door. Her heart sank a little. They had all arrived at the same time. Hodgins, Sweets, Cam... Booth really wasn't coming.

***

A few minutes later, Brennan was watching Hodgins go through a song list while Sweets was trying to untangle the wires behind the TV so he could figure out what was what.

"I have a great duet in mind for you and Angela," he told Hodgins.

"I'd like to see Booth sing a duet with you, Sweets," the bug man responded, almost laughing at the idea.

"Where's Booth, anyway?" Sweets asked, turning to Brennan for an answer.

She instantly frowned.

"Why would I know?"

"You always know where he is," Sweets commented.

"Yeah, you two are like... joined at the hip."

"I haven't seen you two argue in a while. Are you ok?" the psychologist asked.

Brennan snapped. "First we argue too much, now we don't argue enough? Which one is it?"

Hodgins' eyes widened. He had seen Brennan snippy before, but this time, he felt uncomfortable.

"I was kidding..." Sweets explained, surprised by her un-proportional reaction.

Appalled by her own attitude, she sighed and went back to the kitchen. Dinner was almost ready.

***

Brennan had just set the salad bowl in the middle of the table, beside the bread.

"Hi," she heard Booth's voice say right behind her.

She quickly spun around. Her heart was racing, but it was probably because he had startled her.

"I knocked, but no one answered."

"Hi," she let out, wondering what he was doing here, staggered by how happy she was to see him.

Angela came out from the kitchen, walked passed her, not fazed at all. She kissed him on the cheeks, took his coat and told him to grab a beer in the fridge. As soon as he did –without looking at his partner for more than a second- Angela went to put his coat on a hanger. Brennan lowered her voice to a whisper.

"Why aren't you surprised to see him?" she asked, suspicious. "You said he couldn't make it."

I lied?

"I meant to say he couldn't make it on time."

She wished Brennan could have seen the disappointment on her own face when she had told her so. She wished she could have seen the spark light up in her eyes when she had ultimately seen him. Then maybe she would understand.

Brennan was a little upset. Angry, even. She felt the exact same way when the psychologist played his twisted little games with them - it wasn't funny at all- but she let it go. She had enough on her mind already.

***

Booth took a sip of beer, trying to convince himself he wasn't hiding in the kitchen. She couldn't even look him in the eye. He took another sip. He heard laughs coming from the living room when Angela came in to check on dinner in the oven.

She shot a quick glance at his beverage.

"You sure you should be drinking?" she asked with a smirk. "Aren't you afraid of saying things you don't want to mean?"

Booth frowned before it hit him.

"She told you," he stated.

What do you think? she asked him silently.

"And now she's ignoring me. She won't even talk to me," he said with a sad laugh.

"It takes two to talk..." she pointed out. "I don't see you trying either."

Lesson to be learned: Don't whine to a woman about her best friend. Just don't.

***

Things weren't so bad for the moment. She was sitting at the end of the table. Hodgins was on her right, Booth, on her left, but at least she wasn't bumping elbows with him every five seconds. The atmosphere was lighter than what she had expected it to be. Probably because, as Angela had suggested, it was all in her head. She was making the situation awkward for herself. While she realized all that, it was difficult to look him in the eye when all she could think about was to rip that damn sexy smile off his face and to feel his hands on her. She hadn't had sex in so long, she wasn't even sure she remembered what it was like. And whose fault is that? she asked herself, pushing a tomato around her plate with the tip of her fork. She looked at Booth out of the corner of her eye. It's his fault. He's the one who put all these stupid ideas in your head. Ideas of transcendent reality, of the powerful and overwhelming, almost spiritual connection between two beings. And because of him, your hormones are taking over your brain.

"Can you pass the salt," she asked Hodgins. She didn't need the salt. She only wanted a distraction. To stop her heart from jumping out every time Booth's knee brushed against hers.

Hodgins reached for the salt shaker, but Booth got it first and handed it to her. They locked eyes for the first time since he had arrived. She barely held his gaze.

"Thanks," she said.

They kept looking at each other. The team provided them with a thick blanket of silence and stares. Until Hodgins, who deeply wanted to yell 'Get a room!' cleared his throat.

"You know what we need?" he told his coworkers. "We need a case. A good one."

"You realize you're saying you want someone to die, right?" Angela pointed out.

"I'm not wishing for someone to die, I'm hoping we will find someone soon who's already dead."

"Sure, let's talk about death while we eat," Booth cut them short.

***

They both wanted to talk. They both needed to say something, but they were stuck. They didn't know where to begin or where it would end. Things had changed. It wasn't concrete, but it was palpable. They couldn't go back, but they couldn't move forward either. It was painful. It was exhausting. It was stupid.

Maybe the others had some master plan in mind, or maybe it was just some cosmic joke, but the outcome was the same: they were in charge of doing the dishes. Alone. Together. In silence.

"So!" Booth desperately wanted to say something. Anything to spark a conversation, a normal chat, a cosy banter, anything to get them out of the emptiness for a second or two. But his mind was blank. He hung the dishtowel over his shoulder.

"Sweets brought his karaoke machine," she let out, out of nowhere.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked, so relieved. Then, he laughed. "I told him next time I saw that thing, he would never see it again..."

"What do you have in mind? I can help. We could... uhm..."

Booth felt a thrill of normalcy wash over him.

"Oh! We could accidentally drop it on the floor?" he proposed, with an emphasized shrug.

"Or!" She took a step towards him, lowering her voice. "You could distract them while I cut a wire."

"Sounds good," he said with a smile. "But why would you help me? You love singing."

She turned away from him, drowning both her hands in the hot water, grabbing a plate.

"You don't have to be shy. We've all heard you before. You have a great voice," he reassured her.

"I'm not singing tonight." Or ever again.

He frowned. "Why?" he asked, taking the clean plate she handed him.

"Because... I have a sore throat," she explained.

"Why would you lie over something this silly?"

She closed her eyes for a second.

"Because it is silly. My reason. It's stupid."

He took a step forward and gently pushed on her elbow so she would have to turn to him. She did, head down, watching her hands as they dripped in the sink.

"Tell me," he begged.

After a sigh, a deep breath and a rolling of her eyes, she complied.

"The last time I sang in public... you died."

Taken aback, but sticking close to her, he searched for her eyes. But before she could look at him, she had to finish.

"And I know the chances of it occurring again are... pretty much nonexistent, but I really don't feel like reliving that moment. There. Happy?"

She looked up to him. He looked sad. She hadn't wanted to bring him down. If only she had been a good liar.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I should have told you I wasn't dead. I'm sorry."

She sighed. "No... I didn't say that so we would start with the apologies again. It's over. It's done. It's fine."

They finished the dishes in silence. Brennan drained the sink.

"So you won't sing because you don't want me to die again? That's sweet."

A look at his face told her he was mocking her. She tried to get rid of the lather from her hand. Booth took the dishtowel and grabbed her hands with it. He dried them, taking his time.

"You're becoming quite the irrational being, Dr Brennan," he said.

"Shut up," she laughed, taking the towel from him and slapping him with it.

They laughed again, of relief more than anything. They seemed to be back. Nothing could express the fear of making one wrong move that would ruin this. Booth grabbed a big bowl.

"Where does that go?" he asked, looking at the many, many cabinets around him.

"I'll ask Angela, hold on."

She threw him the towel and took the bowl to show her friend. But when she set foot outside the kitchen, she heard them all talking. About her. About him. About them. And she froze in place, curious, and listened.

"Booth, too. They're both acting weird," she heard Angela say.

"Do you think something happened?" Hodgins asked.

"If I didn't know any better, I would say they did it," Cam interfered.

"Maybe they did have sex. The lack of eye contact and physical interaction in front of us could merely be their way of covering it up, to avoid raising suspicion." Sweets dragged out.

"Your radar is off, Psych man," Angela said. "It's pretty clear they're just trying not to."

"But they will," Cam assured them.

"They have to. It's becoming difficult to breathe around them," Hodgins concluded.

Wide eyed, Brennan went back to the kitchen. She avoided looking at Booth. She opened the first cabinet she saw, the one under the sink, and put the bowl in it.

Booth frowned. "Angela puts her bowls with her cleaning supplies?" he said after peeking in to double check. "I'm never eating here again."

Brennan wondered if she had to warn him about the meeting taking place in the living room. She watched him hang the dishtowel on the stove door handle.

"You coming?" he said, heading out.

She grabbed his arm at the last possible second.

"Wait," she stopped him.

Booth's heart accelerated. "What?"

"You don't want to go in there yet."

"How come?"

She wondered how to tell him, and decided for a straight on approach.

"They're talking about us."

"What?"

"Yes. I heard them..."

He hated it when people talked about him, but he would have told her it was no big deal if something in her eyes hadn't told him there was more to it than that.

"You heard them say what, exactly?"

"I think we should talk to them," she suggested.

"Since when do you care what other people say about you?"

"Not about me. About us."

Booth was lost and confused. She clarified as best as she could.

"Half of them think we slept together. The other half thinks we will."

"Are you serious?"

She nodded, afraid of his reaction, but instead of getting furious, Booth sighed.

"We might as well have done it," he muttered, knocking the wind out of her.

Brennan stared at him, wondering what that meant, hoping he would stop toying with her.

"What do we do, now?" he asked, digging inside her with his eyes.

Are you asking me...

"What?" she simply said.

"You really think we should talk to them?"

But before she could respond, Sweets appeared.

"What's taking so long?" he asked.

Brennan turned to the doctor, folding her arms over her chest, biting her lips together. Booth scratched his head.

"Nothing," he said.

"We're coming," she said. One last look at Booth and she was out of the kitchen.

She sat on the empty two-place couch, painfully self-aware, trying to pretend she didn't know what they were all thinking.

Sweets came back, immediately followed by Booth. The psychologist was about to sit beside Brennan when Cam and Hodgins loudly let out fake coughs. Sweets understood instantly and sat elsewhere, pointing the spot beside Brennan to Booth. She looked down, rubbing the space between her nose and her upper lip, as her partner sat, aware all eyes were on them. Hodgins was trying not to chuckle, Sweets was examining them, Cam had the shadow of a smile on the corner of her lips and Angela raised an eyebrow.

Aw, come on!

"Ok! That's it!" Booth almost shouted. "Get a life, people!"

Stunned, Brennan looked at him as he thundered some more.

"We didn't sleep together and we won't! Understood? Now, take a minute to grieve and move on, ok? Please," he continued. "Unbelievable," he then mumbled, turning to her.

Sweets leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You know," he said carefully. "There's nothing in the FBI regulations prohibiting an agent and a consultant to have a..."

"Let it go," Angela warned him, a soothing hand on his back.

The psychologist sank in the couch. "I feel like my favorite TV show's been cancelled," he whispered to her.

Brennan turned to Booth, hesitantly, just to see if he was looking at her. He wasn't. Cam and he were staring at each other, like they were having a voiceless conversation. She felt jealous. She realized with a taste of regret that Booth was sitting far from her. Before all this sex talk, he would always sit close to her. So close, their legs would always touch. He would always put an arm behind her shoulders and they would smile at each other over anything. All of that was gone now. She had taken those tiny details for granted and now, there was nothing.

"Who wants to karaoke?" Hodgins asked, faking excitement to distract everyone.

Brennan got up, walked to the device and said, "I do."

Booth frowned, wondering how she could change her mind so quickly. After a few seconds, she said. "It's not working..."

The FBI agent realized what she was doing and tried to contain his smile. "Awww. Really?"

"It's not possible," Sweets contradicted her. "I set it up perfectly."

"Maybe it's broken," she said. She got out of his way, as he tried, in vain, to turn it on, and sat back next to Booth.

"I'm so sorry, guys," he apologized. "It really isn't working."

"What did you do?" Booth whispered in her ear.

She shivered and answered as quietly as he had asked. "I just unplugged it."

He smiled broadly, really proud. And he laid his arm on the back of the couch, over her shoulders.

There was still hope.

She smiled back.

Yes.

----------

TBC...

Since I don't want this to end, I cut this one there. I'll post the next one very very soon. If you tell me you want me to. Yes, this is blackmail.