A/N: Because some of my livejournal friends told me to write a Bones fic... And because going to Cats rehersals nonstop has fried my brain. I'd love to hear what you guys think!
Disclaimer: Did we see any closets in 2x15? No. Therefore, I obviously don't own 'em.

All The World Is A Stage

It was a Monday the first time Jack knew for sure something was amiss with Angela. He'd been suspecting for nearly two weeks that her job wasn't the focus of her life, and she'd been spending less time with him than usual, so something else must have been consuming all of her time.

"Booth suggested we all go out to diner tonight, for working the weekend," Brennan said in between observations on the Norse warrior they were all gathered around.

Jack, as always, waited for Angela to answer before giving his own. He could never tell when she might already have something planned.

"Sorry," Angela said with a sympathetic smile. "I can't."

"Special plans?" Jack asked her, winking suggestively at her.

Angela rolled her eyes. "I don't think I'll be over tonight, Hodgins."

"Why not?"

"I've got re -" she caught and corrected herself. "Something I have to do."

"But don't you have -?" Brennan stopped when Angela flashed her a warning glare. "I'll make sure Booth knows not to wait for you." Brennan bent back over her skeleton and Angela went back to the sketch she was doing. Jack looked between them, wondering what he'd missed and feeling very out of the loop.

"So how was your night?" Jack asked, sitting in his usual spot at Angela's side while she worked.

"Fine," she replied. "Yours?"

"Long and lonesome."

"You could've called Zach."

"Are you going to be busy tonight?" He knew it was her habit to pretend she was focusing more on her screen than him, but he wished that, just once, she would more than glance at him when they talked.

"Yes."

"I'm starting to feel neglected."

"Get a cat."

"Or you could make up for it now."

This caused a longer look in his direction. "You must have been a handful in school." Her grin matched his.

"I spent most of my years at a private boys academy. Fewer distractions."

"Speaking of distractions, I'd be able to recreate the scene faster if your hand wasn't on my thigh."

By Wednesday, he began to speculate.

"You're not a stripper, are you? I mean, you've got the body, but I'd be just a little upset."

Angela laughed. "I'm not a stripper, Jack."

"Hooters girl?"

"No."

"Dominatrix?"

"No."

"Cult member?"

"No."

"Have you been submitting yourself to alien testing?"

"Aliens don't exist."

"That's what they want you to think," Jack said, waving a finger at her. "Oh, I get it. You're a hired assassin and business is booming."

Angela fought laughter, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "That's it, Hodgins, word got around that I'm an excellent shot and now all the crime lords north of Texas are paying me big bucks to take out their least favourite people," she dead panned. "Although I've hidden the bodies and will be gone by the time the authorities find them, so you won't even be able to identify my victims."

"Aha, femme fetale. I should have guessed."

"Not that it will matter to you much longer," Angela continued. "A banker from Montreal got in touch with me on Monday, and I had to pencil you in for this Saturday. The exchange rate makes the job higher on the list than that group of bullies from Michigan who hired me to take out Zach. That will have to wait until Monday."

Jack chuckled at her serious expression throughout her story. "At least you've scheduled time to be with me, that's got to mean something."

"You look dead tired."

"You sure know how to flatter a girl, Dr. Hodgins."

Jack raised his hands defensively. "I'm just saying..."

"I didn't get home until after midnight last night," Angela explained, lifting her hands from her keyboard. One went to rub her eyes and the other reached for the cup of coffee Jack had brought in when he had noticed her tired state. He could tell she was having trouble not thanking him again for bringing it for her.

"One of your hits give you a hard time?" he joked.

"I'm not a hired hit man, Jack."

"Ya, that would be politically incorrect. You're a hired hit woman."

"I don't kill people. At all."

"So you're a stripper after all, huh? How come my girlfriend becomes a stripper and I get completely ignored, anyways?"

Angela laughed, setting down the mug and going back to work. "I told you to get a cat."

"I had one once," Jack said pensively. "That ignored me, too."

"So do you have diner with all of your hits?"

"What?"

"It's Saturday. Aren't you supposed to have me gone by the stroke of midnight?"

Angela laughed, shook her head, and took a bite of her burger. He never failed to be amazed at how often she choose a plain dinner over a fancy restaurant for meals. He'd never met another women like that, and certainly hadn't dated them, or been this in love with them.

"Oh, I get it. You're going to seduce me into taking you back to my place, and that's when you'll overpower me," he said with a grin.

"Seduce you, possibly; kill you, definitely not."

"That could work for me." Jack popped a fry into his mouth. "So did this afternoon's hit croak before you got there, or something?"

"Jill let us go early," Angela said automatically, not paying much attention to what she was saying. "We could hardly hear ourselves over the set design crew, anyways."

"Jill? Set design crew? Angela, what?"

She tried to cover the look of horror on her face. "It's nothing."

"You owe me an explanation."

And Angela, without missing a beat, changed topics. "How about we get to that seducing now?" She gave him a coy smirk and covered his hand with hers.

Jack waved to the waitress for the bill. The explanation could wait.

Angela left early Sunday morning, and Jack didn't hear from her again until Monday at work. Even then, their newest case was teeming with soil and silt samples, so he hardly left his work station. Luckily, she came to him.

"You're right, Hodgie," she said, suddenly standing beside him.

"I know I am," he replied, straightening from his microscope and grinning. "Wait, about what?"

"Me neglecting you. How about lunch?"

"Sure. Anywhere in particular?" It had been an honest question on his part, but she had somehow twisted it to be amusing, judging by her crooked smile.

"Somewhere with bad lighting."

"You still owe me an explanation," Jack said as Angela turned to leave.

"Don't get your hopes up."

It was the Wednesday after Jack's curiosity had been roused before he got an answer. He'd hardly spoken to Angela all morning, and she'd mysteriously disappeared at lunch. Brennan was the last one he'd seen her with, so that's where he directed his question.

"Is something wrong with Angela?"

Brennan looked up from the skeleton on the table with a strange look on her face. "Why would you think something is wrong with her?"

"She won't tell me what's going on with her lately, and now she's not here."

"It's opening night. I'm surprised she came into work at all today."

"Opening night?" He'd never gotten that explanation he was owed.

"Ya, the theatre company she plays in has a big show that opens tonight. They've been working on it for ages." Brennan spoke slowly, as if Jack had to be stupid to not know it.

"So, what? Angela acts?"

Brennan nodded. "And sings and dances. It's how we met in university. We were the only two females taking science courses in the drama club. Don't you know anything about her?" Jack hoped she'd meant to be less condescending.

"I guess I don't."

Brennan looked at him for a few long seconds before going back to her task. "Anyways, it's supposed to be a good show. It runs for the next week. You should try to see it. I'm going with Zach and Booth tomorrow." She either didn't notice or didn't care when Jack walked away, shocked and a little bit more than hurt. Sure, there had been pieces of their lives that he and Angela had only recently shared, but he thought they'd brought everything out into the open. Of all things to keep from him, why had her current project been kept a secret until opening night, leaving him the last to know? And why did he have to find out from her best friend?

It was a routine Jack couldn't break. No matter how upset he was at Angela, the second he saw she was tired, he was in her office with a coffee mug and a grin.

"Thanks, Jack," Angela said, taking the piece of ceramic and giving a warm smile.

"Were the lights just a little too harsh last night?"

"What?"

"On the stage."

"All the world is a stage." She was obviously trying to avoid the topic.

"You say that, knowing that a stage requires an audience, yet don't believe in aliens," he joked, even though he wouldn't let her stay off-topic for too long. "How come you didn't tell me you're an actress?"

"I can hardly be considered an actress, Jack."

"And yet you've been throwing yourself into this production for weeks."

"It's just a time-consuming pass-time."

"That's the understatement of the century."

"I don't get you sometimes," Angela said, shaking her head. "And this is exactly why I didn't tell you about the show sooner - I knew you'd make a big deal out of it."

"It is a big deal, Angela. You obviously have a passion for performing, but I didn't know about it until Dr. Brennan told me yesterday. Do you know how horrible that made me feel, to think I knew you, only to find out I didn't know you at all?"

"Not knowing that someone sometimes acts in the local amature theatre company isn't not knowing them," Angela said sharply.

"I thought we were having an honest relationship."

"And honestly, I'd like to get this done before I have to go for my sound check at two. Some moron on the sound board last night reset everything after the show."

Jack took his cue and left, silently cursing himself. She had been tired, but happy, and now she was just tired, and possibly angry, all because of him.

Jack finally went to see the show on Sunday. He'd hardly spoken to Angela since Thursday, and felt her owed her something. Sitting in the close-to-packed theatre, waiting for the show to start, he couldn't help but wonder what to expect.

Angela was the lead, and lead she did. She controlled the stage and the audience, leaving the room hanging on to her every note. Jack by no means escaped her spell, he was enraptured, but disbelieving. Was this really the artist he worked with, the woman he loved? He pointlessly double-checked the program at intermission. Angela Montenegro wasn't a very common name and the woman on the stage definitely shared her heart-stopping smile.

But he was concerned. If she had held this piece of herself from him, was she really his at all?

Sure, there were things co-workers kept from each other, he knew that first hand, but lovers? He didn't think so.

After the show, Jack contemplated waiting for her to leave and congratulating her then. In the end, he didn't know what made him decide to go home alone, but not before buying himself a seat on the closing night.

Week three of Jack knowing something was off with Angela began much the same way week two ended. In silence.

The only conversations were work-related, and he didn't tell her he'd seen her show. But she had loved the anonymous flowers he'd sent, commending her on a great performance.

Jack was no less amazed by Angela when he saw the show the second time than the first.

This time, though, he waited for her after the show, at the back of the theatre with a bouquet of roses in hand. The flowers were part apology, part adoration, and part bribe.

When she first came out, she merely stopped and stared at him for a few seconds.

"Fancy seeing you here," Angela said finally, with a stiff edge to her voice.

"These are for you." Jack handed her the bouquet and she took it.

"Thank you. They're beautiful."

"Beautiful flowers for a beautiful actress."

Angela blushed. "That's corny. I'm assuming you saw the show."

"Twice."

"Why twice?"

"It's not like I got to see much of you any time else," Jack joked. "You've been ignoring me for weeks." He took a step towards her, filling most of the gap between them.

"I have to make an appearance at the cast party, if you want to come. But we can always leave early." Angela gave him her usual, sexy smile as she tried the best she could to wrap her arms around his neck without dropping the roses.

Jack laughed and pulled her closer, his arms wrapped around her waist. "Does this mean I don't have to get a cat?"