Note: Since people asked.
Disclaimer: I don't own them.
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She woke to the ringing of the phone. It was cozy under the blankets, and one hand crept out into the cool morning air to locate the phone by touch. Her eyes still closed, she pressed the appropriate button and muttered a groggy "H'llo?"
When she heard the amused, "Well, good morning. Can I speak with Michael?", she shot straight up in bed. Her eyes frantically darted around the small dorm room as she remembered where she was.
She must have been silent too long, because the woman on the phone said, "I'm going to take that as a no. Can you tell him to call his mother?"
"Yes", she answered, "I will."
She pressed the button to end the call and, laying back down, pulled a pillow over her face.
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Of course, the phone rang as soon as her hands were covered in paint. She used her elbow to hit the "speakerphone" button and said, "Hello?"
"Hi, mom." At the sound of her son's voice, she reached for a cloth and began to wipe the paint from her hands.
"Good morning, honey. You must have gotten my message."
She could almost see his face flush through the phone lines. "Yes, I heard you called."
Her hands clean, she poured herself a fresh cup of tea and sat in the comfortable old chair she kept in the corner of the studio for just these occasions. "You know, I didn't get the name of the young lady I spoke with this morning."
"She's a friend, mom."
"A good friend, I assume?"
Her son laughed. "A good friend."
"So", she said, wondering how long she should make him squirm, "You know you're going to have to tell me about her, right?"
"Well", he said, "You know she's a friend."
"A good friend", Angela reiterated.
"Yes, a good friend. We've been seeing each other for a while."
"That sounds serious."
There was a moment of silence. "Um, maybe. I don't know."
"OK", Angela summarized, "so she's a friend – a good friend – who you've been seeing for a while, and it might be serious. You should invite her to join us for Thanksgiving."
"Not this year", Michael answered, "She's got her own family thing."
"Oh!" Angela's hand flew up to cover her mouth. "You already asked her. This is serious."
"Mom", Michael warned, "Don't go overboard. We're just friends."
"Yes", Angela replied softly, "Good friends. I understand."
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Michael hung up the phone and looked over at the woman sitting nervously on his bed. "We're off the hook. She didn't recognize your voice."
The tension left her and she flopped back on the bed.
"Oh, thank god. I mean, can you imagine what would have happened if she had?"
He walked over and sat down beside her. "Yes", he said seriously.
She raised her head to look at him, and he continued, "I think we should tell them."
She propped herself up on her elbows. "But … what about the pressure, and the expectations, and the potential for gunfire?"
"I'm tired of lying", he replied. "We talk every night. Every weekend you come here or I go to visit you there. You're a huge part of my life, and not sharing that with our families feels like we're ashamed. I don't want to hide anymore. I think we should tell them."
She'd never been able to hide from him, and he could clearly read the doubt on her face. "Think about it, OK?"
"OK", she answered.
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It was good to be home. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed it – her old, mostly-blind dog, the familiar walls of her childhood room, the sound of bickering over the number of pies needed to feed 12 people at Thanksgiving.
She walked out into the backyard. It was a cold, drizzly day, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that she was home.
Her phone buzzed with an incoming text. Today's the day.
Yes, she typed in reply, and smiled at the response. Your dad's not really going to shoot me, is he?
Chuckling, she slid her phone back into her pocket.
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The day passed in a flurry of activity – making salads, peeling potatoes, setting the table, and all of the other work that goes into hosting a dinner. She was glad to help out – it kept her from dwelling on the revelation to come.
Before she was really ready, they were sitting around the table. They said grace – her parents had long since agreed that grace would be said together on holidays, but silently (if desired) the rest of the year – and then she stood on legs that were far wobblier than usual.
"I have an announcement."
Michael smiled at her from two seats away and stood as well. "Actually, we have an announcement."
Platters and bowls were placed back on the table as everyone stopped to listen. She took a shaky breath. "Michael and I have been seeing each other."
"Yes", Michael agreed, "We kept it secret at first, but you're our family, and we wanted you to know. This relationship is important to us, and so are all of you."
"Oh!", Angela exclaimed, "So it was you!"
Brennan looked across the table at her best friend. "What was … oh!"
"What?", Booth asked.
"You so don't want to know, dude", Hodgins answered.
"You definitely don't, Booth", Brennan agreed.
"I'm so happy for you both!" Angela bustled around the table and squeezed hugged them each in turn.
"Can we be happy for them later?", Parker asked, "The food is getting cold."
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