AN: I would like to preface this by apologizing for my desperation (Review, um, "whoring," is it called? I don't feel comfortable using that term.) last chapter. And by saying that I totally lied about liking this chapter more. I mean, it wasn't a lie at the time. I thought that the next chapter which will now be posted later, presumably tomorrow, would take this one's place. I then realized that such a setup would turn into a chronological nightmare. So I just wrote this to fill in the space, time-wise. So please, as you read, keep in mind that something better is coming. Soon. Tomorrow, probably.
Hodgins laughed at the look of awestruck terror on his fiancé's face. "Learning something interesting?" he asked.
"What if I'm a carrier of Tay-Sachs disease? God, people really should get tested for things before they have kids."Angela was sitting cross-legged on her bed, feverishly scanning through all sorts of scary medical web pages, when Hodgins snuck up on her.
"You know, for someone with such mad technical knowledge and advanced computer skills, you really don't utilize the internet very well," he joked, chuckling, as he sprawled out next to her and placed his arm on her back, caressing her tense muscles with his fingers. "Besides, Tay-Sachs is found almost exclusively in Eastern European and Ashkenazi Jews and we'd both have to be carriers for it to be passed to our child."
For some inexplicable reason, pregnancy made Angela anxious much more often than she was used to. She did not enjoy this newfound anxiety, a product, she assumed, of some overactive hormone, at all - and this made her, well, anxious.
"Do you know how many genetic disorders he could be born with? It's terrifying."
"Yeah. It is. Turn off the computer."
"What if our child is born without deltoids or triceps? Or with a heart defect? I mean, obviously, a heart defect would be worse. Oh, and, apparently, there's a potential link between low protein diets and severe autism and I never eat enough protein and, God, I'm going to ruin our child."
"Angela," Jack said firmly, but with a hint of a smirk in his voice, "You're perfect." He bent down, talking at her abdomen: "And you are absolutely perfect." He lifted her shirt and kissed her right next to her belly button. His hands closed her laptop and placed it on the floor. He faced her and looked directly into her eyes. "You are completely crazy."
She smiled, just a little.
He kissed her, because she surely wasn't about to kiss him without prompting.
"Jack," she said worriedly, biting her lip, "I like my clothes."
He smirked. He knew this was going to be good.
Hodgins was getting used to this new way she dealt with anxiety, by rambling on to him endlessly in the evenings. Strangely, it didn't annoy him. He loved it, actually. He liked being able to make her feel better so often. It helped him feel useful. And he appreciated that she was divulging so much of what she felt with him. This was incredibly unusual for the self-proclaimed free spririt. "I like your clothes, too," he said.
"I'll have to buy new clothes soon. I won't fit into mine anymore because I'll be . . . what was the word you used? Puffy, was it?"
"When did I say that?"' he demanded, though he fully remembered the conversation.
"I don't know . . . last year sometime."
He chuckled. "And you remembered?"
She nodded. "Did you think I'd forget that?"
He was indignant. "I believe what I said was that I'll still think you're sexy when you're puffy."
"And do you?" she asked with less anger than she'd normally put into such a question. Instead, it was asked with surprising eagerness and vulnerability.
"You're not puffy."
"I feel puffy."
"Well, you look beautiful. You look more beautiful than usual, if that's possible. You're sort of . . . radiant." It wasn't even a line. Not much of one.
She rested her head on his shoulder, and he turned his neck to kiss her forehead. "I think you're insane."
"You've told me that before, I believe."
He kissed her again, and smiled cheekily. "And insanely beautiful," he whispered. "And not at all puffy. But, you know, your appearance is undeniably changing. In a good way. But it's becoming rather obvious."
"I know. Tomorrow we should tell everyone."
After all the excitement with Angela's father, they'd been hesitant to go through the experience of "sharing good news" with any other loved ones. And Hodgins was still recovering from that "hug."
And they had to admit that they were enjoying keeping the baby a private secret, just between the two of them (and, well, Sweets, who still wasn't looking either of them directly in the eye). They liked having something that was only theirs. But, well, the physical evidence was becoming rather difficult to hide. Angela only owned so many loose-fitting tops.
They decided Brennan was their top priority.
So Angela told Brennan alone the next day. She should have predicted her response.
"You'll be done with that reconstruction within the hour, then?" she asked seriously.
Had her best friend not heard her?
Angela understood that she was being generous to say that Brennan had unorthodox priorities. And she'd admit that she sometimes just bounced personal issues off of Brennan to amuse herself and to organize her own thoughts. And it wasn't as if she expected her to care about every little development in her personal life; she knew that bored her.
But this. This had been important. Astronomically more significant than anything she'd ever cared to share with her friend before.
So Angela wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. But she had been hoping (maybe naively) for something.
"Sweetie? Did you hear me?"
"Yes. I understand that your rendering won't be completely accurate, due to the severe skull damage."
"No, sweetie. The part where I told you Hodgins and I have reproduced." She sighed, amused but frustrated by her friend.
"It would be inaccurate to say that you've reproduced yet, because the fetus is still gestating."
"Right," Angela said, nodding a little patronizingly. "Bren, you honestly have no . . . reaction?" She knew it had been silly to expect anything, but she was still a bit disappointed.
"Well, the child won't arrive for at least another six, seven months. It won't affect me, or you, or anyone for a while." Angela looked at her in disbelief. "Well, I mean, it will affect your body, obviously."
Angela rested her face in her hand, shaking her head.
"Ange, have I offended you? Because I'm certain you will be an excellent mother. You have many talents to offer your child, in addition to your beauty. That combined with Hodgins' high IQ assures me that your child will, statistically, be very successful."
Angela smiled. "Yeah. That's better."
"Congratulations? Should I say 'congratulations'?" she tried; Dr. Brennan was actually rather worried. Booth had assured her that her interpersonal skills were improving recently, but, in this moment, she felt hesitant to place confidence in his assessment.
"Thank you. I appreciate that," Angela said, laughing.
"I'll be glad to provide auditory and visual stimulation for your child, too. I'm . . . I'm very excited for you. I've become rather adept with Parker, you know."
"That's good. And I'm . . . sure you have, sweetie. I'm sure you're very adept with Parker."
Then Brennan hugged her. Tightly, like she had the first time Angela'd asked her to be her maid of honor.
"Should I go find Hodgins and congratulate him, too?"
"Yes, he'd like that, sweetie."
Laughing, she watched her best friend walk away, appearing comically on a mission.
"Dr. Hodgins," Brennan called as she stepped onto the platform. Jack looked up from his microscope.
"What's up, Dr. B?" he asked cheerily.
"You've been . . . very happy lately," she noted.
"Yeah, I know," he agreed.
"Angela just informed me of the reason for that happiness, and I wanted to congratulate you."
"Thank you, Dr. Brennan. Really."
"Angela is very happy as well."
Hodgins grinned. "Yeah. I know that."
He'd never possessed greater knowledge.
AN: I believe the, er, fluff, and presumed emotions I've tried to imagine in this chapter may have driven it to the point of extreme out of character-ness. This was unintentional, but I confess that more attention could have been given to quality. As this is fanfiction, I suppose my expectations (for myself) are a bit low.
My expectations for Hart Hanson, however, have been heightened astronomically. Who saw last week's episode? Ah!!! So many positive vibes for Angela and Hodgins! Yes!
Though it's no longer exam week, I do still appreciate the occasional review, you know. I'm still human. Ha.