bringonthewonder | (no subject)

(no subject)

Look, I don't care what he does in his time off, but when he screws around with evidence to get into the pants of an old girlfriend on one of my murder cases, that's a problem.

It was the sort of accusation you kind of have to follow with storming off. Which is exactly what Booth did.

Angela waited a moment or two, and when Jack didn't say anything, she just turned and followed Booth out of the lab, then went back to her office.

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Hodgins hadn't known what to say in the wake of Booth's accusation. The fact that he'd even think that he was sneaking around behind Angela's back like that....

Even if he had known what to say, he wasn't going to say it in front of all of his coworkers. This was one of those things you discussed in private.

Hodgins still doesn't quite know what to say as he stands on the threshold of Angela's office.

"Hey. Can we talk?"

Well, it's a start, right?

"I think we better," she says.

And then, she waits.

He's still hovering in the doorway.

He's not quite brave enough to step inside yet.

When Hodgins finally speaks, it comes out in a quasi-desperate rush.

"Look, what Booth said...it wasn't like that at all. I mean, I would never...it had nothing to do with an old girlfriend."

At least, not in the way that Booth insinuated.

She looks at him, steadily.

"OK, so what did it have to do with?"

Hodgins leans against the door frame, staring at the toes of his shoes.

"Terry Bancroft used to be a friend of mine. I wanted to work his case."

"I can see that," she says.

After all, when Kirk died, working his case helped. A little.

"So where does the old girlfriend come into things?"

"Terry....."

Oh, there's going to be no good way to phrase this, is there?

"Terry's wife. She and I were engaged a long time ago. Like, just out of college. She and Terry started something up and...well, that was that."

"But I promise, that's water way under the bridge. I hadn't even talked to either one of them for eight years."

"And you didn't think to mention this? That you'd been engaged to the wife of the victim?

"That you'd been engaged at all?"

"Honestly, it's something that I hardly ever think about any more."

It's a part of his life that Hodgins has moved well away from over time. Back in the day there had been a group of them that had been very close-knit. Rich (through no real labor of their own). Bright. Well-connected. After Clarissa had broken off the engagement, Hodgins had walked away. From her and Terry. Even their mutual friends.

These days he never really thinks about any of them unless forced by some unavoidable circumstance to listen to gossip about who's doing what among the East Coast's upper crust. Or until an old, familiar name comes across your desk as a murder victim.

"If I had told you, you would have had to tell Brennan. I didn't want to put you in that position."

He scuffs his toe against the linoleum.

"I'm sorry."

"You should have told Brennan. Jack, you could lose your job over this.

"And you should have told me anyway."

"What would you have said if I had?"

Hodgins shakes his head.

"I was the best person to work the evidence." This is the certainty he's been clinging too.

It may amount to arrogance, but it's arrogance that he's earned the right to. You don't work for the Jeffersonian's Medico-Legal lab if you aren't good at your job. Especially when you work to keep your family ties under wraps.

"I don't know. That you needed to tell Brennan. I just would rather have heard it from you than from Booth.

"And, no, sweetie, you aren't the best person to work this evidence. You can't testify. You'd get shredded on cross examination. And you knew that. Or you would have told us."

Hodgins sighs. He edges inside the door, leaning back against the wall.

He avoids the subject of testifying in court. Mostly because he knows deep down that she's right.

"You know I'd never fool around on you, right?"

At the moment, it's more important that he clear that particular point up than anything else.

She nods. "Yeah. I know."

She gets a faint smile. His first real smile in....well, a while.

"So, will you still be seen with me if I get fired?"

He's aiming for a joking tone, but it falls pretty flat.

"Yeah.

"So, is this why I'm getting worried notes from the end of the universe?"

She sets a folded piece of
paper on the corner of her desk.

He'll have to come all the way into the room if he wants to read it.

Curious, he steps into the room and picks up the piece of paper.

Which he reads with a short, disbelieving laugh.

Great. One more thing he's going to have to explain.

"I don't believe it. The kid narced on me."

Teenagers aren't supposed to narc. What ever happened to 'don't trust anyone over thirty'?

"Usually narcing has a few more details to it," says Angela, one eyebrow raised in what would, under other circumstances, be amusement.

Hodgins blushes slightly, folding the paper and handing it back.

"Well. Yeah. Maybe."

Maybe it would just be better to avoid the details.

"But still."

Kind of embarrassing (not to mention annoying) to have the high school intern passing notes to your girlfriend about your behavior behind your back.

"So, are you going to tell me what prompted this?" Angela asks, of the note she's holding.

"I..." Hodgins takes a deep breath. "Needed a drink. After the news came in."

Time to be straight. Tweaking the truth has royally backfired.

"Hannah saw me. Conclusions were jumped to. Or something."

"Guess so," says Angela.

She kind of thinks there's probably more to the story than that.

"What kind of conculsions?"

Hodgins shrugs.

"Who knows. I mean, she's sixteen. For all I know, she's pegged me as a closet alcoholic leading some freakish double life at this point."

Yeah--talking to Hannah? Hadn't gone well.

"Well, at first I think she was afraid that something had happened to someone here," he says grudgingly.

No sense in being totally unfair.

"Jack, honey, you actually do live what a lot of people would call a freakish double life -- works with slime by day, owns half the world by night or something."

Angela looks down at the note.

"I'd cut her some slack. I don't know what, but I think something's up with her."

Hodgins snorts.

"Of course something is up with her. She's a teenage girl who hangs out at a bar at the end of the universe, and has befriended one of the top forensic anthropologists in the country."

In other words, not exactly the poster child for normality.

"Doesn't mean she's not nosy."

It may just be the external stress, but Hodgins still isn't quite ready to let go of that.

"Yeah, and the top foresnic anthropologist in question just dropped everything and flew to California not too long ago.

"So, is there anything else I should know?"

"You don't buy that she was going out to examine an old skull?"

Hodgins shakes his head.

"I think that's officially all the news that's fit to print. For now, anyway."

Start looking for another job. Hodgins can't quite get Booth's voice out of his head.

"I have to sit down for a meeting with Cam, Brennan, Booth and the prosecuting attorney tonight. If anything new develops, I'll let you know."

"You better," says Angela.

Then softens it with, "Do you want to have dinner after?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

Hodgins isn't sure he's going to feel like eating after this meeting, but he's definitely going to want the company.

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