Perhaps I should explain a little bit as to why I wrote this. First off, I wanted to explore how the heck two totally opposite personalities could somehow become best friends within a year time span. Angela literally knew parts parts of Brennan's life and it only took about a year. These two are total opposites, here. How did that even happen?

Second off, as unpopular as this often is, I do ship Brennan/Angela ALONG with Brennan/Booth. This just happens to be a Brennan/ Angela fic. So if you aren't into that kind of thing, I suggest you leave. That may sound harsh, but I don't want to offend anybody. So be warned. If you read without hearing my warning, and are offended, then that's your fault. But the reviews have been wonderful, and I love you guys! Oneward!

Night after night, this scene repeated itself. They would walk to a bar, and Brennan would make sure that Angela got home safely, before driving herself. While Brennan certainly didn't always enjoy going away from her lab, she did note the fleeting joy in her chest when Angela would reach out and tug on her hand.

"This is fun, sweetie. Have some fun," she begged, eyes light with joy, likely, Temperance guessed, a result of alcohol consumption. After a while, Angela could even tempt her into eating lunch with her on the Jeffersonian steps or in the park, though her rush to get back to the lab always astounded Angela. Who wants to spend their life being a lab rat, she reasoned. However, reluctantly Angela always returned with her, keeping a close eye to make sure the woman didn't keel over.

It was once when they had gone to the park that Angela found that piece of Brennan that she'd been looking for.

The artist had realized something the moment she'd set eyes on the forensic anthropologist, something that hurt her heart but also dazzled her into oblivion. There was pain beneath her expression. When she looked at the bodies, it wasn't merely in scientific detachment. Sure, when she was aware that Angela was around or when Zach was watching her work, the eyes of steel came up. Occasionally, however, Angela had caught her before Brennan realized that Angela was looking.

She treated the bones delicately. She would talk to the dead, though Brennan if confronted would have stated that she was merely talking to herself to figure out a conclusive cause of death. Brennan treated the bones like a sick human being, a sick child. She didn't see death when she saw these bones, Angela thought in wonder. She saw who the human had been.

She cared too much…

In this way, too, Angela saw the human that Temperance Brennan was. She wasn't cold or calculating. Not really. She didn't not care. She cared so much, so deeply, that it hurt to watch her care.

And it was breathtaking…

"Brennan…" she said softly, not wanting to disturb her concentration. However, the sharp look that Brennan gave her told her that she'd done just that. "Do you…Want to go out to eat or something?"

Brennan's hard eyes softened, and she put down the bones, closing her eyes.

"Of course…The park?"

Angela nodded and watched Brennan get ready, slowly, almost as though she never wanted to leave again, and slipped out with one last lingering look to the bone room.

"It's like limbo in there…"

Brennan looked up quickly and blinked.

"Religion is ridiculous…"

"Metaphorically, then. Thousands of lost souls…Can you imagine waiting for a loved one and finding out there right here?"

Brennan's eyes softened momentarily and she shrugged, walking quickly out and checking behind her frequently.

"Are you coming?" she asked. Angela, shocked, nodded and started after her.

They both walked to the park and sat watching the scenes around them. Quiet. It was usually quiet. Angela had become accustomed to this and had learned to even joy the silence. It was hard, but at least it wasn't impossible.

The silence was invaded when a young man, no older then thirteen, sprinted past them. An older male of about thirty five was running after him, calling the boys name harshly. Brennan, ever vigilant, stood up quickly and stood in the way of the older man. As soon as he was about to shove her out of the way, she grabbed his arm and flipped him, putting her foot on his chest.

"Why are you chasing him?" she asked, almost accusingly. Angela, eyes wide, stared between them and then looked at the boy, who had stopped and was panting, looking at Brennan as though she were suddenly his savior.

"Hey! I'll call the god damned cops on you lady! That's my kid! Let me up!"

Angela was about to go talk to the kid, when he came up slowly and looked between Brennan and the older man.

"Tell her! Tell her I'm your god damned father, Isaac!" he snarled. Isaac looked scared, suddenly, but then tried to stand up tall.

"He's not my dad…My dads dead…"

"I'm the next best thing you got, kid!" he snarled, but Brennan quickly turned her attention back to him and pressed down harder on his chest, making him gag. Angela wanted to do something, but couldn't.

"Go to the police. It's down the road. They'll keep you safe," she stated, her eyes glancing on the boys arm as he tried to hide it. Home names. She could have guessed.

"But…"

"They'll keep you safe until someone can help you. Tell them you're situation. I'll be down there later," she reassured. The young boy nodded and sprinted away, while the old man yelled at her.

"I ain't done nothing wrong! I took that kid in just like I've taken countless kids in. He's a damned trouble maker!"

"Well, you won't have to deal with him anymore, will you?" she asked, before pressing down harder and releasing, motioning to Angela to come with her. Brennan wasn't too worried about being attacked. They were in the open, after all, and she had a feeling that the older man had suddenly realized his mistake.

"What was that about?" Angela asked in disbelief as they walked away. Brennan looked down at her feet and shrugged.

"Did you see the list on his arm?" she asked, though it was factual in her tone of voice. Angela blinked.

"A tattoo or something, right?" she asked. Brennan shook her head.

"No. A list of names. Of families. A lot of us had them," she stated, and Angela was suddenly confused.

"What do you mean, a lot of us? You're a lot older than him, Bren…"

She hesitated for a moment, wondering whether she should tell her friend.

"I was a foster kid," she muttered, before picking up the pace and closing up for the rest of the day. Angela could see the shutters go down.

That small glance at Temperance Joy Brennan kept Angela walking besides her in silence.