A slightly-wobbly-like-a-baby-deer-emotions-wise woman.
...OF COURSE I WROTE FIC ABOUT ANGELA AND BRENNAN (AND CAM) AND THE BOOKS. OF COURSE I DID. This weekend Thursday-now has officially been the craziest thing ever. Bones. Ashes to Ashes. Going to the opera, then later getting checked out at a restaurant by Richard Belzer (!! TRUE STORY). HIPSTER DOCTOR WHO BEING AMAZING. Then I woke up and, uh, wrote this? Yeah, I don't know. Next week, I fear, will be even crazier. I have an apartment to myself, I'm cutting off all my hair (or, my definition of doing that), and Bones turns 100 episodes old. I am... oh, just go on. HAPPY EASTER
TITLE: Cyrano de Bergerac (Just Without the Nose)
FANDOM: Bones
CHARACTERS: Brennan, Angela, Cam; Booth/Brennan
RATING: PG-13? I guess? Girls talk vaguely about sex. Oh, no.
SPOILERS: 5x15 "The Bones on the Blue Line," but set around 4x15
SUMMARY: Don't call Angela her ghostwriter. More like a... second reader.
NOTE: PAGE 187. I realized after the fact that this also still fit into my larger set of personal canon? Uh, baggers this is not your birthday fic, but like an hour's worth of IM conversing on this subject sort of made this happen, so. Who knows. Also yes: the additional tag on this post needed to exist like eighteen months ago, oh gosh. [2700ish words]
- - -
[2009]
Angela doesn't even wait for Brennan to invite her in - just holds up the bag of full of take-out sushi and a bottle of red wine when Brennan answers the door, then barges right in, only to be caught by -
She eyes the half-empty glass of wine next to Brennan's laptop, then the clock - only 5:30. "You started without me?"
"I was attempting to relax," her best friend replies immediately. "Despite the intimate nature of our friendship, I still find this process... extremely unnerving."
Angela considers this. This is Temperance Brennan standing before her, a world renowned forensic anthropologist and basically the strongest and most intelligent person she had ever met, and she has actually just admitted that the one thing that bothers her the most is... reading something she had written out loud? Earth to normal-shaped Brennan inside there, come out more often, please, because you are extremely endearing and, well, almost normal.
So Angela hugs her, which Brennan doesn't understand, then says, "Find me a corkscrew and let's get down to business."
-
"...in the end, though, Andy's hypothesis proves to be incorrect. The bone density test proves conclusively that his former mentor is not the killer. In Chapter Eight, Kathy and Andy are interviewing the victim's-"
"Hey, whoa, okay, stop right there for a second."
Brennan looks up from her laptop, and frowns. "Was that too forward? I was afraid the bone density test would appear - somewhat contrived."
"What?" Angela stares. "No. I meant- the killer, it's not actually Andy's mentor?"
At this narrative deduction, Brennan smiles. "No. Does this mean you were successfully misdirected? That was my intention."
"I- well, yes I was, but my point is, how do you think that makes Andy feel?"
Brennan literally stares at her. "I don't understand."
"You just spent three chapters on him being worried that someone he knows is a killer, and now that he's not? He's gonna feel something, sweetie."
Brennan considers this, then shrugs. "I imagine that he would accept this as a rational alternative conclusion, and move on accordingly."
Angela can't help but snort with laughter. "You mean, you would."
"...yes."
"Brennan," Angela begins, "you are not Andy."
"Of course I'm not, Angela. Andy is fictional."
"I just meant-" and here is where normally Angela has already had at least four glasses of wine so she can totally get away with making this particular point, but whatever, this time this argument is actually a real argument - "-well, what do you think Booth would do, in this situation?"
She immediately baulks. "Angela-"
"I know. I KNOW. Humor me?"
Brennan groans, and then (Angela's heart skips a beat) she actually considers the question for a tiny moment. "I suppose he'd be... relieved."
"Yes. Anything else?"
"He'd feel - guilty. I guess."
"Why?"
"Obviously, because he suspected that someone he trusted had betrayed him, when in fact the man was innocent. That can be an - extremely difficult emotion to contend with."
"Why would he feel guilty?"
"Because Booth - Andy - believes in absolute loyalty."
Angela takes an oh-so-casual sip of wine. "So what would Kathy do?"
Brennan's entire spine straightens, and one day Angela wants to sit her best friend down to talk about things like when you are being obvious because this is definitely one of those times. There's an adorable pink tint to her cheeks, which Angela figures is half wine, half not-the-wine. "What?"
"What would Kathy do?" Angela repeats.
Brennan manages to regain enough of her composure to frown at Angela, understanding the implication. "Kathy is currently engaged in a clandestine sexual relationship with Ryan."
"So?"
"So - and, not to introduce personal observations into the narrative, of course, but - due to particular recent developments, I've discovered that while monogamy may be an artificial social construct, it does remove certain... negative connotations." Angela stares at her blankly, so Brennan rephrases. "Kathy is currently involved with Ryan. Andy doesn't know about the relationship."
"Yes." (Back to something Angela understands!) "And why is it such a secret in the first place?"
"Because you told me to write it that way."
"But why?"
"Shouldn't you know?"
"I want you to tell me, Bren."
Brennan squirms in her chair again. Angela loves these moments, by the way, which sort of sounds cruel because that's like saying (basically) that she enjoys seeing her best friend in a completely uncomfortable situation. But really, it's a lot of things. There are the wheels turning in her head - that genius thought process that Angela can literally see happening, and frankly, it's a little amazing. There's this interesting sigh that Brennan does when she thinks about these things, like it's the physical manifestation of her immense brain actually switching momentarily from rational scientist to slightly-wobbly-like-a-baby-deer-emotions-wise woman (and Angela means that in a totally "women are awesome because we are women" way - not, you know, not a lesbian thing, not that there's anything wrong with that, clearly). Also, there's the fact that one bottle of wine is now almost completely gone, which means that when Angela asks this question, Brennan is just intoxicated enough to not hide the following reaction - biting her lip and gasping just a tiny bit, and yup Angela would pay $10 million to know exactly what memory that question just triggered.
"I suppose," Brennan begins, after a long pause, "because she... well, she knows Andy will be disappointed."
Angela's mouth twitches. "Because it's not him and Kathy?"
"No."
"Then why?"
Brennan makes a panic-y I really do not want to do this!! face. "Angela, overall this is all only a minor plot development and therefore irrelevant, I don't see why-"
"Like hell it is! Answer the damned question."
Brennan winces, then replies, "I would imagine that on some level, yes, Kathy senses Andy's disappointment, but it's not - it has less to do with their relationship than it does to do with Ryan himself."
Now it's Angela's turn to be a little taken aback. Brennan might not admit to it, but it's hard not to see Ryan as an amalgam of first Sully and then generally just every guy Brennan has dated ever since she met Booth. The best part is that was in no way Angela's idea - the first time Brennan mentioned Ryan in Chapter One, she sort of sat up and went hello what. So okay, maybe Angela manipulated the situation a little to get to this point - the point is, Temperance Brennan went and did this completely on her own. It's only right for Angela to come in and explain the why, right? That's what best friends do?
"But Ryan is perfect," Angela prompts.
"Yes. On-" Brennan hesitates, "Ostensibly. Yes."
(For the record, right now Angela is screaming in her head OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. OH. MY. GOD.)
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Kathy doesn't feel the same connection to Ryan that she has with Andy. And - and don't say 'soul mates,' Angela, please, we've been over this, and that's just ridiculous."
"Okay," Angela snorts. "So what is it, then? Was that celebratory backseat makeout session in Book Two so awesome for Kathy that she actually wants to forsake all others in favor of it happening over and over again? Because lemme tell you, if that's the case, then I think what you want to do is completely rewrite Chapter-"
"Yes."
Angela looks at Brennan, sees her I am not lying face, and stops cold. "What?"
(Internal monologue of Angela Montenegro, dated today at this very hour: OKAY. WHAT. THE. HELL. DID. I. MISS. So this is Brennan, Temperance Brennan, her best friend, and sure, they've had a little bit of wine, but Brennan is so not the sort of person that after a few drinks is all crazy and surprise let me tell you some national security secrets [this is Temperance Brennan, who's been to, like, crazy places; Angela knows she might actually know some real national security secrets]. On the other hand, uh, what the fuck? Sure. Most people would agree that that toast she gave on Booth's birthday was telling in a lot of ways, and they did just generally spend the entire evening sequestered together either outside or in a corner somewhere, not interacting with anyone else. There was that random trip to China that never actually happened. But they're not - I mean, there was no way - there was no way she'd missed something like this, right? Like. There is no way. No- no-)
"Yes," Brennan repeats, more confidently this time (OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD), "Rationally speaking, I suppose that if I'm to accept the superfluous premise of an emotional relationship between Kathy and Andy, then yes, I would conclude that she would. Like to, that is."
Angela stares. There is clearly something she has so obviously missed, and it's killing her. "'Rationally speaking'?"
"Yes."
So Angela downs the last remaining bits of wine in her glass, then says, "I'm going to need reinforcements for this next part."
-
"It's more of sort of - twist."
Brennan's eyebrow shoots up, clearly intrigued with the idea. "A twist?"
Angela is completely reclined on Brennan's couch now, with her perched on the chair in the corner essentially taking notes on her laptop. It's like a crazy drunken version of a shrink session. "Yeah, it's like a - hip-swiveling... twist... thing. It's a little difficult to explain, really, you know without-"
(It's possible that Angela attempts to demonstrate, unsuccessfully.)
Brennan considers this. "I suppose."
"Oh, my God, sweetie," Angela immediately defends, "You have no idea."
"So you're not just making this up? You've actually experienced this - twist?"
"YES." She sits up, and leans in very decisively. "Take the best five orgasms you've ever had, okay, then wrap them up into one and add, like, four more generally ordinary ones. It is so good it literally has the power of nine orgasms. Trust me."
Brennan looks impressed (and really, she should be). "Huh."
"So we're agreed, then? Andy does a twist."
Brennan's mouth quirks, and oh God, there probably needs to be an actual psychologist here. She agrees, "Andy does a twist."
Angela pours the empty remainder of their second wine bottle, which she appropriated from the kitchen because the whole idea of getting up to refill her glass time after time seemed stupid and inefficient, then says, "God, I hate Kathy right now."
Brennan looks up from her typing with a small, knowing smile. "Oh! Because she gets to experience 'the twist,' which I'm presuming is strictly a heterosexual sexual act since it requires a certain movement of the pelvic region particular to males, while you are currently engaged in a relationship that would produce a reaction that, at best, would be similar but not satisfactorily identical to a male-to-female interaction, even given the appropriate sexual instruments? Yes?"
"Thank you, sweetie, for putting lesbianism and strap-ons so bluntly."
"Kathy is a fictional character."
Angela counters, "Angela's ideal sex life is also basically fictional, at the moment."
Brennan hesitates for a moment, then says, almost reluctantly, "For what it's worth, I... sympathize. Although, I don't think I quite understand what you mean."
Angela eyes her. "Is this the Temperance Brennan version of saying you haven't gotten any in a while?"
Brennan doesn't blush at questions like this, but she definitely - it's like before, the idea that underneath it all, she is not simply a rational scientist with neat little boxes to put all her things in. (Of course she's not.) Maybe it's the wine, but there is a tone of - Angela doesn't know if it's sadness, or regret, or just plain ordinary want in Brennan's voice. So maybe she didn't miss something after all, but she definitely missed a step in Brennan's whatever-it-is.
"Yes," Brennan admits, trying to pretend like it's nothing. "It has been several months since my last sexual encounter."
"Define 'several.'"
"Six months?"
Angela does a little math in her head. "Wait, that can't be right. That would mean - okay, so that deep-sea welder guy was actually a total tool, but there's that structural engineer who's usually out around January, for that annual conference thing? That can't be right."
Brennan gives her a look.
"Oh, my God," Angela realizes. "Oh, my God."
"Angela, it's not-"
"Tell me right now, and don't you dare lie to me - tell me he didn't call you." Brennan bites her lip a little, and doesn't say anything. "Brennan. Tell me it's because he didn't call you."
"I-" She falters, suddenly completely interested in the manuscript in front of her. "I was very busy that month."
"Oh, please," Angela handwaves, as Brennan continues typing, ignoring her. "Booth spent like half of January on desk duty because of his fractured hockey arm, and Hodgins practically went apeshit with boredom because we had nothing crime related to do. You were not-" And that's when Angela gets it. Like, she gets it. For one blissful moment, Brennan is typing purposefully away at her newly edited manuscript, and Angela is just sitting there, watching her being wholly unaware that she's just tipped her hand in a huge, really important way. Whether she realizes it or not - whether she understands what it means or she doesn't - she picked Booth. She picked Booth and fetching him soup over... what everything else up until that point has always sounded to Angela like a really decent roll in the hay. That is so incredibly something that it deserves a capital-S for Something.
Oh, Brennan.
"Six months, huh?" Angela decides.
Brennan looks up from her laptop. "Six months."
"So I probably shouldn't complain about what amounts to four weeks of otherwise satisfying sexual satisfaction?"
Brennan smiles, a little grateful. "Probably not."
"Okay then. So back to Andy and the twist..."
-
The following week, Brennan calls to calmly explain that Booth has thrown out his back and that she'll be taking him to the hospital (all the while Booth is protesting loudly in the background). Cam puts the call on speakerphone* so Angela can hear it, too, and really, it's not that they're both terrible people or anything, it's just that so far it's been a really slow morning.
"Booth, you shouldn't - I have to go, Cam, I'll call you back soon." Click, she hangs up.
Angela stares at the phone. "We heard that right, didn't we."
"Booth threw out his back," Cam nods.
"This morning," Angela confirms. "While Brennan was there."
"Which, I'm sure that's a complete coincidence."
"Yes. Of course."
Cam offers up, "Besides, we'd know if there was something - else, right? They're both sorta terrible at this."
"Absolutely."
"Angela? You're nodding way too intently right now."
"Because I'm agreeing with you."
"Emphatically."
"Yes."
Cam squints at her, and goddamn she is intimidating when she does that. "Okay, what do you know?"
"Nothing!" Angela says immediately, instantly regretting how it sounds. "I mean. Nothing, really. It's actually nothing."
"O-kay."
Angela curses her existence, declaring herself to be going to Best Friend Hell for all eternity. "Not for nothing, but it's been - well, awhile."
"For you?"
"For her."
"Oh." Cam processes this. "Oh."
"Yeah."
Angela can see Cam's brain slowly filtering the last couple months through a whole different filter of understanding. Things like - going undercover at the circus! That birthday toast! That time, in front of everyone, when Cam was way too into Booth's hockey game on Saturday and Brennan was suddenly weirdly offended that he hadn't asked her to come, so he did, and then, sensing what it was that he had just done and what it might mean (which on another day no one would care, but they just got back from that circus case a week ago, and things had been downright odd and more than a little awkward ever since), he also invited the next random person he saw (Sweets; um, oops)! Yeah. Yeah.
"It's nothing," Cam decides.
"Of course."
-
Although for the record, Angela still gives a silent cheer when Cam goes for the are YOU all right question after Brennan eventually makes it back to the lab. On some levels, yeah, maybe they are terrible people after all; on others, this is just fun.
And that's also why Angela has finally come around to Brennan's original point - Booth is not Andy, and Brennan is not Kathy.
[* Actually, what Cam does is put Brennan on hold momentarily in an as-calm and non-suspicious manner as she can manage ("I'm... not actually in my office... right now? Uh?"), then runs out into the lab to gesture emphatically for Angela to come over quickly because OHMYGODYOUHAVETOHEARTHISRIGHTNOW.]
TITLE: Cyrano de Bergerac (Just Without the Nose)
FANDOM: Bones
CHARACTERS: Brennan, Angela, Cam; Booth/Brennan
RATING: PG-13? I guess? Girls talk vaguely about sex. Oh, no.
SPOILERS: 5x15 "The Bones on the Blue Line," but set around 4x15
SUMMARY: Don't call Angela her ghostwriter. More like a... second reader.
NOTE: PAGE 187. I realized after the fact that this also still fit into my larger set of personal canon? Uh, baggers this is not your birthday fic, but like an hour's worth of IM conversing on this subject sort of made this happen, so. Who knows. Also yes: the additional tag on this post needed to exist like eighteen months ago, oh gosh. [2700ish words]
- - -
[2009]
Angela doesn't even wait for Brennan to invite her in - just holds up the bag of full of take-out sushi and a bottle of red wine when Brennan answers the door, then barges right in, only to be caught by -
She eyes the half-empty glass of wine next to Brennan's laptop, then the clock - only 5:30. "You started without me?"
"I was attempting to relax," her best friend replies immediately. "Despite the intimate nature of our friendship, I still find this process... extremely unnerving."
Angela considers this. This is Temperance Brennan standing before her, a world renowned forensic anthropologist and basically the strongest and most intelligent person she had ever met, and she has actually just admitted that the one thing that bothers her the most is... reading something she had written out loud? Earth to normal-shaped Brennan inside there, come out more often, please, because you are extremely endearing and, well, almost normal.
So Angela hugs her, which Brennan doesn't understand, then says, "Find me a corkscrew and let's get down to business."
-
"...in the end, though, Andy's hypothesis proves to be incorrect. The bone density test proves conclusively that his former mentor is not the killer. In Chapter Eight, Kathy and Andy are interviewing the victim's-"
"Hey, whoa, okay, stop right there for a second."
Brennan looks up from her laptop, and frowns. "Was that too forward? I was afraid the bone density test would appear - somewhat contrived."
"What?" Angela stares. "No. I meant- the killer, it's not actually Andy's mentor?"
At this narrative deduction, Brennan smiles. "No. Does this mean you were successfully misdirected? That was my intention."
"I- well, yes I was, but my point is, how do you think that makes Andy feel?"
Brennan literally stares at her. "I don't understand."
"You just spent three chapters on him being worried that someone he knows is a killer, and now that he's not? He's gonna feel something, sweetie."
Brennan considers this, then shrugs. "I imagine that he would accept this as a rational alternative conclusion, and move on accordingly."
Angela can't help but snort with laughter. "You mean, you would."
"...yes."
"Brennan," Angela begins, "you are not Andy."
"Of course I'm not, Angela. Andy is fictional."
"I just meant-" and here is where normally Angela has already had at least four glasses of wine so she can totally get away with making this particular point, but whatever, this time this argument is actually a real argument - "-well, what do you think Booth would do, in this situation?"
She immediately baulks. "Angela-"
"I know. I KNOW. Humor me?"
Brennan groans, and then (Angela's heart skips a beat) she actually considers the question for a tiny moment. "I suppose he'd be... relieved."
"Yes. Anything else?"
"He'd feel - guilty. I guess."
"Why?"
"Obviously, because he suspected that someone he trusted had betrayed him, when in fact the man was innocent. That can be an - extremely difficult emotion to contend with."
"Why would he feel guilty?"
"Because Booth - Andy - believes in absolute loyalty."
Angela takes an oh-so-casual sip of wine. "So what would Kathy do?"
Brennan's entire spine straightens, and one day Angela wants to sit her best friend down to talk about things like when you are being obvious because this is definitely one of those times. There's an adorable pink tint to her cheeks, which Angela figures is half wine, half not-the-wine. "What?"
"What would Kathy do?" Angela repeats.
Brennan manages to regain enough of her composure to frown at Angela, understanding the implication. "Kathy is currently engaged in a clandestine sexual relationship with Ryan."
"So?"
"So - and, not to introduce personal observations into the narrative, of course, but - due to particular recent developments, I've discovered that while monogamy may be an artificial social construct, it does remove certain... negative connotations." Angela stares at her blankly, so Brennan rephrases. "Kathy is currently involved with Ryan. Andy doesn't know about the relationship."
"Yes." (Back to something Angela understands!) "And why is it such a secret in the first place?"
"Because you told me to write it that way."
"But why?"
"Shouldn't you know?"
"I want you to tell me, Bren."
Brennan squirms in her chair again. Angela loves these moments, by the way, which sort of sounds cruel because that's like saying (basically) that she enjoys seeing her best friend in a completely uncomfortable situation. But really, it's a lot of things. There are the wheels turning in her head - that genius thought process that Angela can literally see happening, and frankly, it's a little amazing. There's this interesting sigh that Brennan does when she thinks about these things, like it's the physical manifestation of her immense brain actually switching momentarily from rational scientist to slightly-wobbly-like-a-baby-deer-emotions-wise woman (and Angela means that in a totally "women are awesome because we are women" way - not, you know, not a lesbian thing, not that there's anything wrong with that, clearly). Also, there's the fact that one bottle of wine is now almost completely gone, which means that when Angela asks this question, Brennan is just intoxicated enough to not hide the following reaction - biting her lip and gasping just a tiny bit, and yup Angela would pay $10 million to know exactly what memory that question just triggered.
"I suppose," Brennan begins, after a long pause, "because she... well, she knows Andy will be disappointed."
Angela's mouth twitches. "Because it's not him and Kathy?"
"No."
"Then why?"
Brennan makes a panic-y I really do not want to do this!! face. "Angela, overall this is all only a minor plot development and therefore irrelevant, I don't see why-"
"Like hell it is! Answer the damned question."
Brennan winces, then replies, "I would imagine that on some level, yes, Kathy senses Andy's disappointment, but it's not - it has less to do with their relationship than it does to do with Ryan himself."
Now it's Angela's turn to be a little taken aback. Brennan might not admit to it, but it's hard not to see Ryan as an amalgam of first Sully and then generally just every guy Brennan has dated ever since she met Booth. The best part is that was in no way Angela's idea - the first time Brennan mentioned Ryan in Chapter One, she sort of sat up and went hello what. So okay, maybe Angela manipulated the situation a little to get to this point - the point is, Temperance Brennan went and did this completely on her own. It's only right for Angela to come in and explain the why, right? That's what best friends do?
"But Ryan is perfect," Angela prompts.
"Yes. On-" Brennan hesitates, "Ostensibly. Yes."
(For the record, right now Angela is screaming in her head OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. OH. MY. GOD.)
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Kathy doesn't feel the same connection to Ryan that she has with Andy. And - and don't say 'soul mates,' Angela, please, we've been over this, and that's just ridiculous."
"Okay," Angela snorts. "So what is it, then? Was that celebratory backseat makeout session in Book Two so awesome for Kathy that she actually wants to forsake all others in favor of it happening over and over again? Because lemme tell you, if that's the case, then I think what you want to do is completely rewrite Chapter-"
"Yes."
Angela looks at Brennan, sees her I am not lying face, and stops cold. "What?"
(Internal monologue of Angela Montenegro, dated today at this very hour: OKAY. WHAT. THE. HELL. DID. I. MISS. So this is Brennan, Temperance Brennan, her best friend, and sure, they've had a little bit of wine, but Brennan is so not the sort of person that after a few drinks is all crazy and surprise let me tell you some national security secrets [this is Temperance Brennan, who's been to, like, crazy places; Angela knows she might actually know some real national security secrets]. On the other hand, uh, what the fuck? Sure. Most people would agree that that toast she gave on Booth's birthday was telling in a lot of ways, and they did just generally spend the entire evening sequestered together either outside or in a corner somewhere, not interacting with anyone else. There was that random trip to China that never actually happened. But they're not - I mean, there was no way - there was no way she'd missed something like this, right? Like. There is no way. No- no-)
"Yes," Brennan repeats, more confidently this time (OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD), "Rationally speaking, I suppose that if I'm to accept the superfluous premise of an emotional relationship between Kathy and Andy, then yes, I would conclude that she would. Like to, that is."
Angela stares. There is clearly something she has so obviously missed, and it's killing her. "'Rationally speaking'?"
"Yes."
So Angela downs the last remaining bits of wine in her glass, then says, "I'm going to need reinforcements for this next part."
-
"It's more of sort of - twist."
Brennan's eyebrow shoots up, clearly intrigued with the idea. "A twist?"
Angela is completely reclined on Brennan's couch now, with her perched on the chair in the corner essentially taking notes on her laptop. It's like a crazy drunken version of a shrink session. "Yeah, it's like a - hip-swiveling... twist... thing. It's a little difficult to explain, really, you know without-"
(It's possible that Angela attempts to demonstrate, unsuccessfully.)
Brennan considers this. "I suppose."
"Oh, my God, sweetie," Angela immediately defends, "You have no idea."
"So you're not just making this up? You've actually experienced this - twist?"
"YES." She sits up, and leans in very decisively. "Take the best five orgasms you've ever had, okay, then wrap them up into one and add, like, four more generally ordinary ones. It is so good it literally has the power of nine orgasms. Trust me."
Brennan looks impressed (and really, she should be). "Huh."
"So we're agreed, then? Andy does a twist."
Brennan's mouth quirks, and oh God, there probably needs to be an actual psychologist here. She agrees, "Andy does a twist."
Angela pours the empty remainder of their second wine bottle, which she appropriated from the kitchen because the whole idea of getting up to refill her glass time after time seemed stupid and inefficient, then says, "God, I hate Kathy right now."
Brennan looks up from her typing with a small, knowing smile. "Oh! Because she gets to experience 'the twist,' which I'm presuming is strictly a heterosexual sexual act since it requires a certain movement of the pelvic region particular to males, while you are currently engaged in a relationship that would produce a reaction that, at best, would be similar but not satisfactorily identical to a male-to-female interaction, even given the appropriate sexual instruments? Yes?"
"Thank you, sweetie, for putting lesbianism and strap-ons so bluntly."
"Kathy is a fictional character."
Angela counters, "Angela's ideal sex life is also basically fictional, at the moment."
Brennan hesitates for a moment, then says, almost reluctantly, "For what it's worth, I... sympathize. Although, I don't think I quite understand what you mean."
Angela eyes her. "Is this the Temperance Brennan version of saying you haven't gotten any in a while?"
Brennan doesn't blush at questions like this, but she definitely - it's like before, the idea that underneath it all, she is not simply a rational scientist with neat little boxes to put all her things in. (Of course she's not.) Maybe it's the wine, but there is a tone of - Angela doesn't know if it's sadness, or regret, or just plain ordinary want in Brennan's voice. So maybe she didn't miss something after all, but she definitely missed a step in Brennan's whatever-it-is.
"Yes," Brennan admits, trying to pretend like it's nothing. "It has been several months since my last sexual encounter."
"Define 'several.'"
"Six months?"
Angela does a little math in her head. "Wait, that can't be right. That would mean - okay, so that deep-sea welder guy was actually a total tool, but there's that structural engineer who's usually out around January, for that annual conference thing? That can't be right."
Brennan gives her a look.
"Oh, my God," Angela realizes. "Oh, my God."
"Angela, it's not-"
"Tell me right now, and don't you dare lie to me - tell me he didn't call you." Brennan bites her lip a little, and doesn't say anything. "Brennan. Tell me it's because he didn't call you."
"I-" She falters, suddenly completely interested in the manuscript in front of her. "I was very busy that month."
"Oh, please," Angela handwaves, as Brennan continues typing, ignoring her. "Booth spent like half of January on desk duty because of his fractured hockey arm, and Hodgins practically went apeshit with boredom because we had nothing crime related to do. You were not-" And that's when Angela gets it. Like, she gets it. For one blissful moment, Brennan is typing purposefully away at her newly edited manuscript, and Angela is just sitting there, watching her being wholly unaware that she's just tipped her hand in a huge, really important way. Whether she realizes it or not - whether she understands what it means or she doesn't - she picked Booth. She picked Booth and fetching him soup over... what everything else up until that point has always sounded to Angela like a really decent roll in the hay. That is so incredibly something that it deserves a capital-S for Something.
Oh, Brennan.
"Six months, huh?" Angela decides.
Brennan looks up from her laptop. "Six months."
"So I probably shouldn't complain about what amounts to four weeks of otherwise satisfying sexual satisfaction?"
Brennan smiles, a little grateful. "Probably not."
"Okay then. So back to Andy and the twist..."
-
The following week, Brennan calls to calmly explain that Booth has thrown out his back and that she'll be taking him to the hospital (all the while Booth is protesting loudly in the background). Cam puts the call on speakerphone* so Angela can hear it, too, and really, it's not that they're both terrible people or anything, it's just that so far it's been a really slow morning.
"Booth, you shouldn't - I have to go, Cam, I'll call you back soon." Click, she hangs up.
Angela stares at the phone. "We heard that right, didn't we."
"Booth threw out his back," Cam nods.
"This morning," Angela confirms. "While Brennan was there."
"Which, I'm sure that's a complete coincidence."
"Yes. Of course."
Cam offers up, "Besides, we'd know if there was something - else, right? They're both sorta terrible at this."
"Absolutely."
"Angela? You're nodding way too intently right now."
"Because I'm agreeing with you."
"Emphatically."
"Yes."
Cam squints at her, and goddamn she is intimidating when she does that. "Okay, what do you know?"
"Nothing!" Angela says immediately, instantly regretting how it sounds. "I mean. Nothing, really. It's actually nothing."
"O-kay."
Angela curses her existence, declaring herself to be going to Best Friend Hell for all eternity. "Not for nothing, but it's been - well, awhile."
"For you?"
"For her."
"Oh." Cam processes this. "Oh."
"Yeah."
Angela can see Cam's brain slowly filtering the last couple months through a whole different filter of understanding. Things like - going undercover at the circus! That birthday toast! That time, in front of everyone, when Cam was way too into Booth's hockey game on Saturday and Brennan was suddenly weirdly offended that he hadn't asked her to come, so he did, and then, sensing what it was that he had just done and what it might mean (which on another day no one would care, but they just got back from that circus case a week ago, and things had been downright odd and more than a little awkward ever since), he also invited the next random person he saw (Sweets; um, oops)! Yeah. Yeah.
"It's nothing," Cam decides.
"Of course."
-
Although for the record, Angela still gives a silent cheer when Cam goes for the are YOU all right question after Brennan eventually makes it back to the lab. On some levels, yeah, maybe they are terrible people after all; on others, this is just fun.
And that's also why Angela has finally come around to Brennan's original point - Booth is not Andy, and Brennan is not Kathy.
[* Actually, what Cam does is put Brennan on hold momentarily in an as-calm and non-suspicious manner as she can manage ("I'm... not actually in my office... right now? Uh?"), then runs out into the lab to gesture emphatically for Angela to come over quickly because OHMYGODYOUHAVETOHEARTHISRIGHTNOW.]