It was easier to do what Hodgins wanted because Hodgins kept talking till you did. Which is why Zach found himself trudging through mud on a Sunday morning, wishing that the sudden weekend thunderstorms hadn't broken, that he hadn't made the mistake of answering his phone at 8am and that he hadn't, during the course of that conversation, admitted to owning a pair of shoes that would stand up to a few hours' worth of glomping around. He'd been more than willing to lend Hodgins the shoes, but of course Hodgins hadn't quite clarified what the shoes were for. It had gone something like this:

"Hello?"

"Good news, it's stopped raining!"

"...Why is that important?"

"I woke you up, huh?"

"That wasn't your intention?"

"Man, didn't you ever wake up early for cartoons? OK, never mind. Do you have a pair of hiking boots?"

"I don't hike."

"Right, right... Do you have a pair of shoes you can use to hike?"

"Yes, I think my mother bought me a pair that might be able to withstand-"

"Good, get 'em ready. I'll be over in ten."

"Ten what?" Zach had asked the dial tone. He didn't like confusion and Hodgins was usually very sensitive to this; he didn't normally ask questions to which there was no factual answer, unlike Booth.

There was a reason for this obviously. It involved Hodgins laughing at him when Zach held out the boots, protesting that he'd thought that was what Hodgins wanted, and Hodgins replying that he'd take the shoes but Zach needed to get his feet into them, pronto.

"But...where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

And that had been almost two hours ago.

"Come on, just a bit more."

Zach interrupted his breathing schedule to gasp, "That's what you said-- five minutes-- ago."

"Shut up and enjoy it already." And Hodgins, Hodgins was striding along with a huge smile on his face. The kind of smile that he usually reserved for bug breakthroughs and slime secretions. Even his hair looked...happy, glinting in the sunshine.

Zach looked down, back at the dirt path under his feet and focused on putting one foot - in the hiking shoes, of course - in front of the other.

Miraculously, the track seemed to be levelling. Another few steps and Zach was treated to a vision of Hodgins re-enacting the opening scene from 'The Sound of Music.' Or at least Zach would have been treated to that scene if he'd ever watched 'The Sound of Music.' As it was, all he saw was Hodgins twirling around, arms outstretched, backpack swinging pendulously behind him. For the millionth time, he wondered why he'd let himself be talked into this it wasn't as if he didn't know how to shut the door on unwanted visitors.

"Hooray, we're here," he said, when he finally caught up to Hodgins in the clearing, and felt a slight acceleration in his seratonin levels as he realized he'd used sarcasm effectively.

Hodgins was down on one knee, rummaging in the backpack. He looked up grinning. "Thought I'd brought you here on a wild goose chase, huh?"

"No," Zach replied, "it's more like some kind of strenuous physical exertion that you seem to enjoy and wanted to share with me." The trees were interesting, he thought. It was rare to see a natural clearing this big. "Unless you're collecting insects and needed my--"

The words died away when Hodgins pulled the second plane out of the backpack.

"One's for you, Zach."

"But-"

"Here's the control. Batteries should be fine. Watch the tail wind."

"Why?"

"You build them," Hodgins said. "I thought you might like to see them in their natural habitat."

Something that wasn't seratonin or dopamine or adrenaline flooded Zach, and because he had no idea what it was he took the control silently. Hodgins was still grinning and his hair was still glinting.

"Thank you," Zach said.

And they flew planes all afternoon.