A/N: Here's the fourth chapter. I don't know how realistic this is, but I could personally see it play out. I love Booth and Brennan, so I tried to incorporate a little bit of their brilliant banter into this section.

Gathered around the holographic table, Angela's stomach clenched.

For once, it wasn't because of the thought of the baby, and the beautiful, slowly untangling mess that she found herself in. It was because the victim in front of her had been run over by a motorcycle, gutted, and hanged, and the violation of mere decency had her insides churning. Wendell stood uncomfortably close behind her, and Cam, Booth, and Brennan stood opposite the two. Wendell looked at the simulation in awe.

"That is so cool," he said through a hanging jaw.

The four others turned towards him with raised eyebrows.

"Excuse me?" Angela asked, taking a step away from him. Something in him had already begun to turn her off. His glistening eyes seemed dull to her, and his morally upright personality made her want to go smash something in the White House. Hodgins was more rebellious. Damn, did she just think that?

"No," he replied, waving his hands, "Not the gutting...the holograph thing. It's so...real."

"Mhm," Angela said disapprovingly. She maintained a few inches of distance, and Wendell looked at her peculiarly.

So did Brennan.

"Is there a problem between you two?" she asked innocently, "There definitely seems to be some sort of tension. Is this because of the--"

"SO, THE MURDERER," Cam interrupted loudly, sending Angela into shudders of relief and Booth into a spiral of confusion, "he, uh, was very precise." She cleared her throat. "Hodgins identified the particulates as obsidian. But the slant of the cuts seem to point to some sort of tool. Like a scalpel, almost."

"So we're looking for a med student slash pyschopath?" Booth asked, cocking his head.

"Possibly."

"Great."

He rubbed his temples, and then the nape of his neck, trying to relieve some of the stress that a new case never failed to provide him with. It didn't help that Cam was acting strange, throwing Angela the weirdest looks ever once in a while.

"Guys," a voice called from the hallway. Hodgins stood with a tiny glass vial in his hand, and his signature king-of-the-lab smirk on his face.

"I traced back the license plate particulates of the car our victim was hit with," he announced, striding confidently towards Angela's right side. He brushed her hand accidentally and she jerked away. Booth squinted.

"I took the liberty of running the data through the system," he continued, shaking the little vial, "Aleksandra Lane."

Booth's mouth dropped open.

"The Aleksandra Lane?" he repeated. His thumb pulsed involuntarily by his side.

"Who is Aleksandra Lane?" Bones asked.

"Give-Carmen-Electra-a-run-for-her-money Aleksandra Lane?"

Hodgins nodded.

"Who is Aleksandra Lane?" she repeated.

"Screamfest, Lionwoman, Hot Tub Party 4 Aleksandra Lane?"

Frustrated, Bones brought her pointer finger and thumb to Booth's face, and pinched his nose as tightly as she could. Her self defense class had taught her that it was a quick way to cause a little bit of pain to get out of mild trouble.

"Ow, Bones!"

"Who the hell is Aleksandra Lane?" she asked irritably.

"Only the hottest woman to ever grace the planet," Wendell joined in, illiciting an angry glare from his girlfriend, "Well...second," he added.

"Is she a good actress?" Bones pressed.

Booth made an obnoxious sound through his closed lips.

"She stinks, Bones."

"Oh," she replied, "Does her lack of bodily hygiene hinder a successful work environment on set?"

Even Cam chuckled at that one.

"It means she's awful, Bones."

Bones paused for a second.

"Then why do you three seem to worship her?"

Booth made that noise again.

"We do not worship her, Bones," he answered, looking at Wendell and Hodgins for a bit of help, "We just find her...very..." he trailed off, curving the air in front of him into a womanly shape.

Bones nodded her head in faux comprehension.

"Can I come with you to arrest her?" Hodgins asked Booth, grinning.

"In your dreams," Booth answered.

Winking, naturally.

o o o

"She didn't do it," Booth announced. The team was scattered in the laboratory, and at his arrival, they began to cluster around him.

Wendell puckered his lips idly, and Cam looked at the floor in thought.

"What about the license plate?" she asked.

"Aleksandra reported a theft a week ago--" Booth scoffed, "Her black Yukon. I got an agent to look at the police reports- he says it checks out." There was a sly grin on his face. A biological happiness that his third favorite woman on Earth wasn't a heartless murderer. Number one is his mother, since you're obviously wondering.

"Hodgins, have you found any other particulates we can track down?" Bones asked, "We can't do anything other than that until Angela finishes the facial reconstruction." She looked to Angela apologetically.

"Oh," Angela said, slapping her forehead, "I completely forgot. Where did you put the skull? I'll do it right now."

Bones gave her a small smile, and gestured for Angela to follow her.

"Dr. Hodgins, see if you can get anything else," Cam repeated, walking towards the victim.

"On it," he replied.

"I put it right here, Angela," Bones said, delicately picking up the reassembled skull she had placed near the body. Angela nodded, taking it into her hands.

"It'll be done soon," she replied.

"Thanks, Ange," Bones answered. She paused before speaking again. "You know, you might want to consider taking some time off. Certain fumes may be harmful to the baby even in early stages of development. I wouldn't want anything to happen to--what?"

She furrowed her eyebrows at Angela's horrified face. Wendell had spun around at the mention of 'baby' like he was the next James Bond. Booth's jaw had dropped, Cam buried her forehead in her hands, and Hodgins had already begun counting the tiles of the laboratory floor.

"Have I done something wrong?" Bones asked, still oblivious to the tension in the room.

"You're pregnant?" Wendell asked incredulously.

Angela nodded. She felt that being submissive about the whole issue would make it
hurt less for him. And besides, there was a chance that he would be very understanding. It wasn't like it was her fault. Well. Not really.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he pressed. Angela bit her lip.

"It's seven weeks old, Wendell," she replied. Suddenly she could see him doing the math in his head, and the heartbroken realization on his face made her feel vulnerable.

"But...we've only been together for a month," he said. He looked over at Hodgins, and the falseness of his stolid expression told him everything he needed to know. "It's his?" he continued, almost icily. There was a certain relief of knowing that the baby was not his-- god knows he wouldn't have been prepared, but the fact that it was his good friend's made him feel betrayed.

"Wendell, I didn't confirm until today."

He shook his head in disbelief, and Cam and Booth ushered Brennan away from the crime scene. They both knew she'd get what was coming to her later.

"Then why did you tell everyone else before me?" His words were desperate, trying to understand the situation he'd suddenly been thrust into.

"I didn't, I just--"

"Don't talk to her like that."

Hodgins stared at Wendell straight in the eyes defiantly. Angela could tell whoever she wanted, in his opinion.

"Hodgins, don't."

"No," Wendell interrupted, "it's fine."

He walked over to the curly haired scientist, and gave him his best half smile. And then, with all the strength he had, he lifted his hand and brought it straight to Hodgins' face.

A/N: Thanks to DeviantOrchid 's suggestion for that last bit! I had already written that bit about smashing things in the White House by the time I read your review, so I thought it would be a perfect little ironic bit.