Tempernce Brennan and Jack Hodgins had formed an ever strengthening bond during their time buried in a car, courtesy of the Gravedigger. True, they had spent a lot of time together prior to that one event that had drawn them closer, but never really outside of work, or as more than colleagues. They had never really worked together before that first case with Booth and Angela. To her, he'd only just been the disagreealbe entomologist that she occasionally consulted in cases that required his expertise. To him, she had always been the hot genius that lived for her work, and forced him to work with her annoying grad student.
They both came from different backgrounds. He the son of wealthy parents, who lived in a mansion, attended fancy prep schools, and was left to his bugs and au-pairs. She the daughter of criminals turned bookeeper, and science teacher. They lived in a small two-story in the suburbs of Chicago, Ill. She had an older brother, five years her senior. She was always top of her class, in the Burtonsville Public School System.
They had both been abandoned, although for each it was different. He had ever rarely spent more than a few days with his parents at a time. They were always attending different social events, as heads of the Cantilever Group. He had never really known them. He'd grown more attached to his various nannies and care-takers, who interestingly enough never seemed to want to stay very long with the rich little boy, who would have rather spent his childhood days playing with his chemistry set, and running around his father's estate trapping and identifying a multitude of garden variety bugs. She, in turn, had always been close to her parents and her brother. Distressingly shy and awkward, Temperance Brennan had never had many friends to turn to. Russ, her brother had been her best friend for many years. Her protector, too. That's why their dissapearances had come to such a shock to her. They had been her everything, and now she had nothing.
Flash foward nineteen years into the future. At thirty four, she was the best forensic anthropologist in the world, award winning novelist, soon-to-be mother, friend and girlfriend of her best friend and partner. He was thirty six. Sole head to the Cantilever Group, husband to Angela Montenegro, father to Michael Stacatto Vincent, world-renown entomologist and mineralist, son-in-law to probably the craziest man on earth and conspiracy theorist supreme. This particular night, was one of those rare nights they spent together after a busy day at the lab, normally over drinks at the bar, or coffee either at the diner or the break area at the lab. Tonight was no different in that aspect. They sat together on a bright orange couch in the mezzanine overlooking the platform situated in the middle of the Lab.
"This is Angela's favourite picture," he said, indicating an image of his son and the woman currently sitting next to him. The infant lay on the crook of her arm, with his small fingers around her thumb. She appeared to be doing her 'Dancing Phalanges' bit, to his obvious delight. She remembered the time the picture had been taken. It had been at her own apartment, not a month ago . Her baby bump had been noticeable through her loose-fitting shirt. she smiled at the memory. She handed the surprisingly heavy scrapbook to Hodgins, and pulled out her cell phone. She clicked the screen a couple of times before showing him the picture she'd pulled up.
"This is my favourite picture." she said, watching him smile. She glanced down at the picture of Angela's dad holding his month old grandson, who was wearing a hat very similar to his. Hodgins chuckled.'
"He was happy we named him 'Stacatto'" Brennan smiled softly. Her thoughts drifted to her own unborn child. She was three months away from her due-date. She and Booth still had three months to figure out everything that they needed to figure out before the child was born.
"Were you ever scared, Hodgins?" she asked, almost impulsively. She lay her hands on her abdomen, and waited for an answer. He chuckled softly, and nodded.
"Yeah, Dr. B. We knew that there was a 25% chance that he could be born blind, so I was scared. But even before then, I worried constantly. I worried that I would not be a good enough father. I worried about Angela's health. Even today, I worry that I'm messing up. I'm scared that anything could happen to him. I worry that I am not the best father I can be." he saw she seemed to find comfort in what he had just said.
"Clearly you are a very good father, Hodgins." she complimented him truthfuly.
"Thanks, Dr. Brennan," he replied smiling. "You are going to be a brilliant mother. You already are a wonderful aunt" she blushed slightly and checked her watch. It was about time for them to head home. He stood up, and helped her get off the couch. She hugged him good bye, before reminding him of dinner at her apartment that saturday. He made his way to the elevator, leaving her to look at the scrap-book she and Angela had put together of the little boy that was his son.