(Untitled)

[bugsandslime]

Hodgins knows he should have been home hours ago.

After visiting Zach, he had been oddly reluctant to go home. Which was stupid, he knew. And he knew Angela would be waiting for him. But after an hour of being able to pretend things were normal again, it was hard to go back to life being strained and disjointed-even the good parts

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[bringonthe1der]

Angela pretty much expected him to be later than he said, but she'd be lying if she said she hadn't been listening for a car for the last hour or so.

And having heard the car arrive, she waits to hear the door open. And when, after five minutes, she hasn't, Angela goes downstairs and out to the driveway.

She lets herself into the car, sits in the passenger seat, and waits.

[bugsandslime]

Hodgins doesn't even lift his gaze from the center of the steering wheel.

He does work up a smile. A faint one. But he's trying.

"Hey," he says, quietly.

"You need a lift?" he asks, after a long pause.

When did talking to people get so hard?

[bringonthe1der]

She doesn't ask should you be driving?

"Maybe I just like sitting in parked cars," she says.

She'll wait for him to get to everything when (if?) he wants to.

[bugsandslime]

"Parking works."

He tries to muster up a laugh. It doesn't go well.

"Any minute now some bored cop will come tap on the windows and tell us kids to run on home--we're out past curfew."