A/N: This is my entry for the July CBPC. The theme is 'Feels Like the First Time' so I wondered what event might have caused Hodgins to become a forensic entomologist. Please note, for those who don't know, 'Jack' is a nickname for 'John'. I'm assuming that is Jack's birth name. If I'm wrong, sue me. Thanks for reading and reviews are fervently appreciated, 'cuz sadly, nobody is willing to pay me for this obsession of mine.

THE BUG AND SLIME GUY

It happened near the end of his first year at Harvard, the event that changed the direction of his life.

His girlfriend, Jenny, had disappeared after leaving the campus library late on a Thursday night. The cops had questioned all of her friends extensively, and they had spent three hours interrogating him. He wished he had something to tell them, anything that would have helped them find her, but he hadn't seen her since lunch that day. They had a date planned for Friday night. A date they would never have.

Jack Hodgins sat in the interrogation room, trying not to appear as nervous as he felt. He knew they'd be watching him through the two way mirror, and he was determined not to give them any reason to be suspicious of him. His attire alone probably gave them a reason. He was wearing his rattiest jeans with a faded John Lennon T-shirt, but he had decided he wasn't going to buy into their establishment prejudices by dressing up for them. He straightened a little when the door opened and Detective Capshaw walked in and closed the door behind him.

Capshaw wasn't bad for a cop, Hodgins had decided after the last interrogation nearly two weeks ago. A little uptight, but that was to be expected. Hodgins tried to appear relaxed as Capshaw took the chair across from him.

"We found Jennifer Christensen's body in the woods this morning," he informed Jack grimly, alert for any sign that this wasn't a surprise.

Jack paled, forgetting to breathe for a moment. "No," he said hoarsely when he could talk at last. "No," he said again, tears filling his eyes. "Are—are you sure? Did someone identify her—body?" he asked, disbelieving.

Capshaw nodded, watching Jack closely. "Forensics was able to match her dental records. Looks like she was killed the night she disappeared," Capshaw finished quietly.

Jack's eyes closed and a pair of tears slid down into his scruffy beard. They'd been dating since the beginning of the semester. Jenny had been a free spirit with a deliciously wicked sense of humor and Jack had fallen hard for her. Their time together was an exhilarating series of heated debates over politics interspersed with periods of sublime happiness. The thought that he'd never kiss her or hold her again, never have another rousing discussion about corruption in government, brought the grief crashing down on him.

"How do they know how long she's been dead?" he asked hoarsely. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know, but a part of him needed more details, as though they might somehow help him come to terms with her death.

"The entomologist with the coroner's office was able to determine that by the bug activity." Capshaw watched him digest that bit of information. The guy was taking this pretty hard, but they needed to get on with the investigation. "Now, I'm sorry for your loss, but I'm sure you understand that I'm determined to get the person responsible. Tell me again, when did you last see Ms. Christensen?"

Hodgins stared at the wall, his mind refusing to accept she was gone. Capshaw cleared his throat, catching Jack's attention. "Huh? Oh, that Thursday, lunchtime. She and I had a date that Friday night. She never showed," he said sadly.

Capshaw sighed with frustration. This was going nowhere fast. "You have nothing more to add? You haven't thought of anything that could help us?"

Hodgins shook his head. "I wish I had something, man, I really do. But I got nothin'," he said regretfully. Capshaw believed him.

"Okay," the detective said, sitting back in defeat. "Don't leave the country or anything. I may have more questions later."

Hodgins nodded and stood. He pinned Capshaw with a grim look. "Find the bastard who did this," he said angrily. "Make him pay."

"Count on it, Mr. Hodgins."

BBBBBBBBB

The break in the case came when forensics identified particulates found on the body as being dandruff, of all things. Running the DNA from the dandruff through CODIS, a match was found. Judd Hanes was an ex con out on parole. He had a long history of violence against women which had been escalating with each new offense. A chronic problem with dandruff was his downfall. Capshaw called Hodgins as soon as the arrest had been made.

"Dandruff?" Hodgins said, amazed at the resourcefulness of the forensics team.

Capshaw chuckled, elated over the arrest. "Yeah, maybe I'll send him a bottle of Head 'n Shoulders while he's in jail."

Hodgins smiled, relieved that they'd caught the guy. "Hey, great job, man. Thanks for letting me know." He hung up, eyes thoughtful. 'Huh. Dandruff. That's pretty cool.'

BBBBBBBBB

Jack paced his father's study nervously. He just knew this wasn't going to go well. His father had always wanted him to major in business so he could take over the helm of the Cantilever Group one day. As the only child, it had been made clear to him from childhood. And he'd been okay with that, for the most part. He understood his duty. But he'd become less and less enchanted with the idea over the years, especially during his high school years of teen angst and rebellion. By his senior year he had accepted his father's edict: major in business or get cut off. The rebel in him wanted to tell the old man where he could shove his damned financial support, but the realist in him held his tongue. He'd go along, for now, get his gen reqs out of the way, keep his nose clean, get stellar grades, and then—who knows? Anything could happen.

But Jenny's murder had affected him deeply. Just how deeply became clear when he met with his advisor to plan his curriculum for the fall. This meeting with his father was the result.

Robert Hodgins walked in with his usual hurried gait. "John, how are you? Did you get registered?"

"Well, no, sir, that's why I'm here—" Jack began hesitantly.

"No? Wait until I talk to your advisor. You need to get registered so you'll get all the classes you need." His father sat down behind the huge desk, pulling a stack of papers toward himself.

Jack shifted from one foot to the other, tongue tied. 'Tell him!' his inner voice urged. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, he stepped closer to the desk. "Father, I--want to change my major. In fact, I want to change my college." He held his breath, waiting for his dad's reaction.

Robert looked up, frowning. "Oh, did you decide on law, then? Yale has a great law curriculum," he said, his frown smoothing out a bit. It was back even darker than before at Jack's next words.

"No, entomology, with a minor in geology." He braced himself for the storm to come.

His father sat there staring at him in disbelief. "What brought this on? I thought you had settled on the business major."

Jack linked his hands behind his back, straightening his spine. "No, that was what you wanted, sir. I've never really enjoyed business studies. I find them—stifling. Boring." His eyes locked with his elder's. "Jenny's murder made me realize that forensics is a fascinating field and I know I would excel at it. I've always been interested in science, and especially bugs. I want to be a forensics specialist."

His dad jumped to his feet. "A what? Absolutely not! I forbid it! I'll cut you off, you won't get another red cent from me!" He was shouting and Jack fought the urge to take a step back. His father was an imposing figure, topping six feet, and Jack had always found him intimidating. But not this time. He'd made up his mind and he wasn't backing down this time.

"Fine," Jack said steadily, meeting his father's fury with a cool demeanor. "I'll be packed and out of here by morning."

That stopped his father cold. "Don't be ridiculous. Where are you going to go? A few phone calls from me and nobody in our circle of acquaintances would dare take you in."

Jack's lips twisted. "Don't worry, I've got some 'acquaintances' that you don't know who would be glad to help me get out from under your thumb."

Robert's lips firmed. "If you think I'll change my mind, think again, mister—"

Jack turned to go, giving his dad one last glance. "I know you won't, any more than I will. Goodbye, Father." With a last glance around his father's hallowed sanctuary, he was gone.

Six months later his father was killed when his private jet crashed outside Chicago, leaving Jack the sole heir to the Hodgins fortune. Saddened by his father's death, especially since they had never reconciled, Jack was nevertheless relieved, and therefore felt incredibly guilty. Life just got a whole lot less complicated for him.

Ten years later…

Jack stopped just inside the sliding glass doors of the Jeffersonian and looked around with a grin. Finally, this was where he belonged. He felt it with a deep sense of contentment. Here he could be just Jack Hodgins, the bug and slime guy. Nobody needed to know that he was the sole heir of the Hodgins fortune, or that his company was a major contributor to the Jeffersonian, the very place he would be drawing a paycheck from. Excitement began to build as he looked around. He'd be able to make a difference here.