Author's Note: This is a Hodgela fanfiction that takes place following 2x20: "Spaceman in a Crater". I was deeply disturbed by Angela's response to Jack's proposal, and knew she must have been thinking some serious thoughts to say what she did. So I did what I always do when I can't make sense of things … I write them! I took some liberties with Angela's past, and let her crawl into my head for the time being. Right now, this is a two-chaptered fic, but my brain will only function enough to make the first part. Expect part two: the conclusion tomorrow!

Ownership: As usual, don't own the Bones characters, though I really wish I did. I borrowed Angela's brain for this fic, and I will gladly return it to her body once I've had a bit more fun with it. Also, this fic was inspired many, many months ago, after reading Bones spoilers and listening to Nelly Furtado's "Try". The song struck me as something Angela would be thinking, and so I tucked it away in my mind for later usage. Obviously the song does not belong to me, and I am not Nelly Furtado.

All I Can Do

All I know is everything is not as it's sold. Take Jack and I, for example. On the surface, we're a happy couple, very much in love, and still in the "sex and laughing" stage of our relationship. Or so I thought.

All of that drastically changed a few weeks ago, when Jack asked me to move in with him. It was completely out of the blue, and something I was not expecting at all. We've only been dating for a few months, and – granted – I do have most of my stuff over at his place anyway. But when his "place" is a huge mansion with its own indoor heated pool, mini movie theatre, display room for his fancy cars and collectables, and a master bedroom that has its own suite – and my "place" is a one bedroom walk-up apartment – I think it's a no brainer as to where I'd rather spend my time.

Still, like I told him, I need my space. I've always needed my space, and pretty much grew up enjoying my freedom. My dad wasn't around at all – too busy playing the rockstar – and my mom was a private person herself. When she wasn't working two jobs to support us, and pay for my extra curricular art and computer classes, she spent a lot of time by herself, too. We rarely did things together, except for special occasions, even though we always lived in small homes, or apartments where we'd have to be in close proximity to one another.

And I have lived so many lives, though I'm not old. I always knew I wanted to be an artist, even as a child. And despite the distance between us, my mom was always there to support me, no matter what I did. She used to say that I grew up too fast, and had to take on too many roles before my time. But when you have to care for a sick parent, that's what you do. I always felt bad because I knew this worried her – I knew that she was upset by the fact that we had never really been that close, and yet our time together was coming to a sudden end.

She died shortly after I graduated from high school, and I'll always hold onto the fact that she got to see me do that. In the last few months of her life, she wasn't able to take care of herself, or work – so I had to take on two part time jobs, in addition to my full time schooling. It was tough, but I made it through, and I graduated at the top of my class.

After the funeral, Dad said he would come back and settle down with me, but he never could quite get around to that. He would send money back, and make the occasional visit, but for the most part, I was on my own. I put myself through art school, and then university. I learned all I could about computers, because I knew that some day I would be required to use them to create my art, to express myself fully.

And then my life really began. I traveled, I saw the world. I had pretty much a different boyfriend for each country I lived in – and there were a lot. I was never interested in anything more than sex, and perhaps a bit of companionship. I didn't want a guy who was willing to settle down, marry me, and give me children and a domestic life.

And then I started work at the Jeffersonian, and I met Temperance Brennan. She became my instant girlfriend, and we did everything together. I had never really had a good female friend like that before, and I got the feeling that she hadn't either. You could say we were kindred souls, destined to meet up and forge a bond.

And she was everything I wasn't. A workaholic, a serious soul, somebody who would always put her duty and her job before her own life. And don't get me wrong, I love my job too, and I saw a real duty in the forensic work I was doing as a part of her team. But the nightlife was always the highlight of the day for me. And I lived for the weekends. To her credit, Brennan never seemed to grow tired of my attempts to push her into this life of mine, and to make it something she could enjoy too.

Boyfriends came and went, and they never seemed to stick around for too long. And it was just the way I wanted things, no strings attached. I figured I would know when something was right, I would get a feeling within my soul that told me the person I was with was "the one". The one I was meant to spend the rest of my life with, and hang onto for dear life.

And then I met Logan. He made my heart stop, and was the most kind, caring, and gentle soul I had ever known to that point. He seemed to really care about me, and my work. He wanted to hear about my day, and was interested in more than just what I could provide for him in bed. And while I never got a complete feeling of pure and utter joy from being with him, I felt something that I had never felt with a man before. This led me to believe that he was my one, he was my destiny.

But it wasn't meant to be, and looking back on things now, I should have known this. I should have been able to look forward, pull myself out of the little lovesick rut I had dug myself into, and get a clear view of my surroundings. But instead, I forged on, and had my heart broken.

Logan had never wanted more from me than just the sex. He had only wanted from me what I had been wanting from every other guy I had ever gone out with. And like an idiot, when I told him I wanted more – he freaked out and took off. I never thought I'd be able to trust a man again, and I took a leave of absence from my job at the Jeffersonian, and went to Fiji. Along the way, I did meet another guy who seemed to be as into me as I was him.

I was living the carefree life, no worries, nothing tying me down. Whilst in Fiji, and after consuming a fair amount of alcohol and who knows what else, we took part in a fire ceremony that involved hopping over a broomstick together to symbolize our love. It seemed fun at the time, and he seemed just as into it as I was. And despite the fact that I later found out that the ceremony had been the Fijian version of a wedding; I hadn't believed it symbolized anything special.

I returned home to Washington, and he did not. I have no idea where he is now, but upon my return I was distracted by a great looking photographer who swept me off my feet. Kirk may have been my first real true love, but he wanted more than I could give him. He wanted my full, undivided love and attention, and my mind was not willing to give that much of my heart up yet. My mind recalled in full detail the aspects of my love life that had gotten me burned in the past. It knew what happened when I tended to rush into things, and how I always ended up the one left holding the short straw.

When Kirk was killed much later into our relationship, it was another memory for my mind to file away. Don't let yourself fall for anybody else, the mind was sending out a warning signal, because they'll just leave you brokenhearted again.

So you can imagine my hesitance when Jack asked me out at work. I'd known him since he started at the Jeffersonian, and had never thought much of him. He was cute, and had the bluest eyes I had ever seen on anybody, framed by long lashes that looked too perfect to be real. But he was a guy, and he was somebody I worked with – so I couldn't let myself fall for him. Again, the mind took over, sending out warning signals to the heart to keep the guard up, and not to let him in.

Then I see you standing there, wanting more from me. And all I can do is try. Jack always wanted more from me than I could offer him, even from the beginning. In the year before we went out, he was always dropping subtle hints, giving me flirty eyes when he thought I wasn't paying attention. Little did he know that I was watching, and that my heart was doing little flip-flops in my chest, screaming out at me to tell him I was noticing. But the brain won out on that fight, and the only response I would give was a sly smile, or a smirk.

Brennan and Cam convinced me to let him take me out on a date, after he'd come out and asked me. My first instinct had been to say no, and I had. I'd been sitting at my computer, analyzing video footage of a murdered child, when he'd walked in. As with most of our conversations, he would start off all professional, and then seat himself on my desk, facing me. He knew that I had nowhere to look but into his deep blue eyes, and he would get my full, undivided attention this way.

It had pained my heart to tell him no, to give him the excuse that we worked together, and it wasn't a good idea. When he'd challenged me with, "you can't say that you don't feel it", I hadn't been able to answer him. A lie just wouldn't work its way to my mouth fast enough, and he had forged on with his list of reasons. But I had remained firm, and had shifted the focus back to the work at hand.

But I couldn't get the idea out of my head, and I couldn't let it go. That entire day, I saw him around the lab, carefully avoiding my eyes, a pained look on his face. I felt so bad about it that I had gone to Brennan for advice. I knew she would confirm for me that it wasn't a wise offer to take him up on, and that it could only end in misery. What I hadn't banked on was Cam Saroyan being there too, and giving me her opinion that I should go for it.

And the date was amazing. Best date I had ever been on, hands down. Even though we were doing one of the simplest, most child-like things in the world, it all felt so right. Being on the swing beside Jack, hearing him talk about the dream he had about our date – I knew that this was going somewhere. I knew that he had already made up his mind that it would be a fantastic date, and that somewhere in his hyperactive brain, we were already dating.

Which is why, after the date, I had to break his heart and tell him it couldn't go further. The look on his face after I'd told him "friends" one last time – that look could have melted stone. He was like a defeated little boy, walking away from a mother's scolding for taking something he had wanted, but hadn't belonged to him.

And I didn't belong to him. I still don't. Even though I eventually let my heart win over, and agreed to test things out – he still didn't have all of me.

All of the things we want each other to be, we never will be. We never will be. Hodgins has always expected so much from me, even from the beginning. And I think he knows that sometimes it's hard for me to be open with him, and to share what I'm really feeling. But he pushes. He pushes because deep down, he needs to be validated. He needs us to be validated, to mean something.

He needs to say his thoughts aloud, to have them heard. That's why he's constantly telling me that he loves me, and that he loves what I do. I know he loves my work, my eyes, my thoughts. I'd have to be blind to not see that he's in love with me. And while I'm just as much in love with him, I can't bring myself to say it aloud to him.

I think I've only used those three words a few times in our entire relationship – maybe only once. And it may have been when he was in the process of falling asleep next to me in bed. I don't know why this is, why I have such a hard time telling him what I feel, what's in my heart. I like to think that he knows this, that he knows how much he means to me, and how much of my heart belongs to him. But sometimes I wonder.

Within the last month, he has proposed to me twice. The first time was at work, and I think it was something he hadn't really thought through completely. It came out of nowhere, while we were discussing a case, and he was working on a specimen. Out of the blue, he just threw it at me. "Will you marry me?"

I told him no … but not "no, I won't marry you". I told him it was a "no, I won't say yes". I further explained that the reason for my answer was that he was asking wrong, which was partially true. The whole idea of experiencing a "feeling" when something is right for that moment, and is meant to be happening at that point in time is still with me. It's still something I believe strongly in. And Jack throwing the proposal out there without so much as a warning did not fit into that. It doesn't matter that he looked into my eyes, and held my hands in his. I wouldn't let myself be taken over by the batting eyelashes that time.

And I knew that he wasn't going to give up on it that easily. I half expected him to show up for work the very next day in a tux, with a ring in his pocket and a Cinderella-style carriage waiting outside. It almost surprised me when the next few weeks came and went without so much as a conversation pointed towards the topic of marriage.

And then the dinner date arrived. "Wear something nice," he had said to me, and reiterated the demand that the gorgeous mukluks I had picked up in Tuktoyuktuk were not an option. For some reason, the lost proposal wasn't on my mind that night, as we made our way to the restaurant. I just kept thinking about how great he looked in his suit, and how brightly his eyes were shining.

When the dinner itself came and went without so much as a whisper towards the idea of marriage, I began to get nervous. That overactive mind of mine was whispering into my ear. If he wasn't there to ask me to marry him again, what could he possibly want from me? Could it be the end? I knew he was a gentleman, and gentlemen never dump their girlfriends via the phone, or e-mail or something corny like that. If he were to end things with me, I knew it would be done in a gentle, and caring manner – like a dinner where he could let me down easy.

Which was why, when he'd began to list off all the things my being in his life had done for him, I panicked. I saw the look on his face, and misread it for the look of pity you give someone just before you give them the "but…" end of your speech. I had blurted out, "are you breaking up with me?" and watched in horror as his face had fallen.

It was completely the wrong thing to say, and once it was out of my mouth, I had known that. But it was too late to take it back, and the damage had already been done. Then he had produced the box that held the most beautiful diamond ring I had ever seen, and had asked me for my hand in marriage again.

And my brain had sent out the warning signs. Instead of the feeling I was expecting, the overwhelming joy and happiness … I felt fear, and panic. And despite the fact that I tried to rationalize this to him without breaking his heart, I knew what I was saying didn't make sense to him. I knew that, despite the fact that he seemed willing to take my word for it that I'll know the feeling when it happens – he doesn't understand it.

He expects things to be as easy for me as they are for him. He knows that he loves me, and he knows that he wants to spend the rest of his life with me. And he knows that I know this about him. What I don't think he knows is that this is the way I feel too.

As I say goodbye to the way of life I thought I had designed for me. I never expected to fall this deeply for somebody. After the pain with Logan, and losing Kirk, I never thought I'd fall in love with somebody again. I never thought my mind would let my heart become so emotionally attached. The one-night stands, and the carefree relationships were my way of directing my life, my future. It was my way of making sure I was never hurt again, never in a position where somebody I cared so much for could hurt me.

But with Jack … all of this is lost. I want him to know how much he means to me, and I want to be able to tell him that I love him, without having him prompt me. The fact that, at the end of our dinner date he had to ask me if I love him tells me so much about what he's thinking. If he has to actually ask me that, if he doesn't already know it in his heart, or is wary of that … then something's not working.

I'm afraid that my fear is so great that I'm allowing it to sabotage the best thing I've got going for me right now. My future with Jack. And I don't know what I can do change that.