AN: This is basically my speculation on the thought process that went into the Hodgela relationship. There's no dialogue in this installment, but there'll be dialogue later. I think there'll be four of these things, depending on how I space it and what I decide to include. If I screw up anything, I'm sorry. I've only watched the full episodes from 2x09 to 2x14, plus most of episodes 2x07 and 2x08, and whatever clips YouTube has to offer. Yup – newbie fan! Now, guess what? Reading time! And go –

Just Hot Sex to Jumping with Style

Caution.

That was what Jack Hodgins, multi-millionaire, had learned best about love. It's a lesson that you can't avoid learning after you catch your fiancée sleeping around with your best friend. That's the kind of incident that makes you learn other things, too. Like there are other things more important than friends and sex and money. And that you really don't fit into that caviar and champagne crowd, mostly because you care too much, and not just about yourself. And maybe all that conspiracy theory junk your grandpa always went on about aren't as cracked up as you thought they were. Most importantly, though, you learn that if you willingly give your heart to someone, that's all they need to destroy it.

So he had gone from Jack, the smart-ass trust fund baby, to Hodgins, the smart-ass conspiracy theorist Bug Man. He liked himself a hell of a lot better, doing something useful with those shiny doctorates, contributing to humankind and all that. He was more comfortable with who he was. Change was good – even the beard.

But love. No, Hodgins had learned his lesson there. Women are fun. Women are wonderful. But no woman was getting his heart. This earned him his cocky confidence with women. If you're not playing for keeps, there's no reason to be nervous.

When Hodgins started getting feelings for Angela Montenegro, he let them unfold however they wanted. She was hot, and it wasn't like she was looking for commitment. Sure, she was his friend, and that was awkward territory, but he figured, they were two mature adults. They could figure out a system that worked nicely for both of them. And neither of them had anything real to invest, so what the hell?

Hodgins didn't realize, at the time, that Angela was just the person to show him he hadn't learned caution well enough at all. Not by a long shot.

If Angela Montenegro had learned one thing, it was this: men leave.

Her father had started the procession. Then came her string of boyfriends, all of them concerned with one thing – which didn't bother her, particularly. She liked sex as well as the next girl. The thing was, not many of the relationships lasted past the dirty deed. Angela, as she got older, started to get used to it, even like it. If they left before you got emotionally invested, you couldn't get hurt.

And then there was Kirk. Kirk was sweet, and kind, and good to her – and then he was gone. For the first time, Angela had real pain and real regrets over a relationship. Then Goodman, who she thought would stay at the Jeffersonian until his bones became one with the floor, up and left, too. That decided it as far as Angela was concerned. Men were fine for sex and casual friends, and that was all.

She didn't worry too much when she first Hodgins glance her way. Hey, she was patented boho-freestyle-rocker chick, and her Mr. Member, er, Man on the Move. Even if they ever did get past flirting, it'd just be a couple rounds in the sack for an experienced pair like them. No attachments, no pain – no problem.

It didn't take Hodgins long to understand his mistake. He was a pretty smart guy, after all. He'd given his heart away once, albeit eight years ago, and he was far too honest with himself these days to pretend he didn't recognize the signs. The problem was, he didn't realize it until it was far too late. By the time he saw his error, he was most of the way to being head-over-heels for Angela.

He was scared as hell, at first. He was Hodgins now, shameless flirt of a lab rat, not Jack, that idiot who let his heart get stomped on by $8000 Gucci heels. He was done being done in by bottle blondes whose only objective in life was to get a rich husband. The heiresses, the models, the actresses, the leggy airheads, the boob-y airheads, and all those girls with a pretty face and loads of alcohol – none of them got to him. He was above that love crap.

The thing was, as it occurred to him one day, was that this might be the reason why Angela had won him over without him realizing it. He was used to dealing with the brainless, when dating, and the far-too-serious, when at work. Angela had brains and fun, and she knew him. She watched him dig through piles of sludge and bug insides all day, not to mention had little knowledge of his bank account, but she still liked him. She was different from all the others, and he hadn't taken the time to think about how different that made his feelings toward her.

Deciding it was far too late for his heart's safety, Hodgins just went ahead and took the plunge. It was stupid, and it was going to hurt like hell, but he was doing it all the same.

Though damned if he wasn't going to do it with style.

Falling for Hodgins was far too easy. It was a tiny sidestep from thinking of him as something more than her dorky work friend to idly drawing sketches of his face instead of skull's, and not much of a hop from there to thinking about what it'd be like to having a real relationship for the first time, and it was really only a couple days and a couple drinks after that when she realized that Hodgins was her best bet for a real relationship. He was funny, smart, and he kept up. Not to mention those eyes of his.

Just thinking that made her jumpy around him. Especially since she could see him thinking it, too. Day by day, it became harder to hold normal conversations with him. And she was getting distracted. And not just from cases – from art. No guy distracted her from art. She even noticed how distracted he was getting from bugs – Hodgins! Distracted from bugs! By her!

Angela's panic alarm was practically screaming in her head. Men don't get close. Men are only good for casual friends. Men are only good for casual friends and good sex. Hodgins would probably be great sex ... no, focus. Men leave. Men always, always, always leave.

The worst part was, Hodgins was probably the closest guy friend she'd ever had. If anything happened with them, and it didn't work out, she wasn't just going to lose a friend. She wasn't just going to have an awkward work environment. She was losing the only person she could talk to about stuff with a male perspective. Seriously, who was going to replace him? Booth? Zack? Oh, God. She couldn't resort to Zack.

Things would never work between them. They were too different in all the ways that mattered, and too similar in all the ways they shouldn't be. Angela decided that, simply put, this could not happen.

Of course she slipped up when he asked her out. The way he'd done it ... it was just so Hodgins. Besides, she'd thought she'd talked herself down from the cliff well over a month ago, and that maybe now she could take another stab at the "just hot sex" version of their relationship. But when he kissed her, all the things she'd felt about him, all the stuff she was afraid, came crashing down on her.

So she cut it off early. She hurt them both at the beginning rather than watch him take off in the end.

AN: So it goes through 2x07. Basically, from now on, I should know more of what I'm talking about. Again, sorry if I screwed anything up. Take pity on the little newbie. She's trying as hard as she can.

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