"But time still goes on
And through each life of misery
Everybody's got a hold on hope.
It's the last thing that's holding me."

'Hold On Hope', Guided By Voices

oo00oo

Jack Hodgins sat in his Mini, staring at the cardboard tube lying across his lap. He loved the effort that Angela had put in to making things right between Booth and Brennan. He couldn't help but hope it would work out, if only to make his favourite artist happy.

For months he had watched her, feeling his heart pound at the slightest glance, the smallest smile. She was always around, always just out of reach. He knew she found her job hard at times and it killed him to see her upset.

She's the one who has to see the faces, give the victim's back a real aspect of their life. She's the one who sees these cases for what they really are. She's the one with the good heart, and I'm always scared it's going to break.

That was why he had given her that single white rose all those months ago, a perfect specimen nicknamed the Romeo and Juliet. He had laid it on the desk in front of her, his heart racing at the look in her eyes, and he had known that she understood.

She knew I was trying to help because I cared, not so much about the case but about her, always her.

Things had moved on since then, though neither had ever really said anything to confirm the growing attraction he knew they both were feeling. Not that it bothered him too much. For her, he was more than willing to wait.

Glancing up through the windscreen, Hodgins saw an elderly lady struggling up the steps to the building with her shopping. Tucking the cardboard tube under his arm, he jumped out of the car and jogged over to her.

"Do you need hand, mam?"

She smiled broadly as she thanked him, handing over a couple of bags while digging in her pockets for her keys. Her hand on the door knob, she cast a concerned eye over the young man in front of her.

"Do you actually live here, son?"

He smiled, adjusting his grip on the shopping.

"No, but I work with Agent Booth. I just need to drop this off to him."

He nodded at the tube under his arm and the little old lady's eyes began to twinkle as she pushed the door open.

"Ah, yes, Seeley... It's so nice having an FBI agent in the building. He's so helpful and neighbourly. Not like some of your generation."

She smiled at Hodgins as he followed her to her door.

"Present company accepted of course, young man."

He grinned, handing the shopping to her across the threshold.

"Well, thank you mam. Have a good day now."

He excused himself, a part of him wishing he could take her up on her offer of lemonade and cookies, and ran up the stairs.

Venturing out on to Booth's corridor, Hodgins practically tip toed along the wall.

God, I hope he's actually here or this whole plan's gonna go horribly wrong…

Sneaking up to the door, Hodgins propped the tube against the frame. Reaching in to his bag, he carefully pulled out the tiny toy pig Angela had smuggled out of Brennan's office and placed it on top of the tube. Checking nothing was about to topple over, he straightened up and let out the breath he hadn't even realised he was holding.

This had better work or Angela's gonna kick my ass from here to Timbuktu…Not that it wouldn't be fun...

Preparing to run, he knocked as quickly and loudly as he could before dashing off back down the corridor. Hiding round the corner, he listened as the latch unlocked and the door opened. Hodgins had to do his best not to laugh as memories of childhood games flooded his mind.

Crouching down to the carpet, the scientist did exactly what Angela had told him not to do and sneaked a peek round the corner.

Booth was stood there, a strange look on his face as he stared down at the little toy pig in his hand. He leant down and picked up the cardboard tube, a frown knitting his brows together as he turned back inside, kicking the door closed behind him.

Hodgins got back to his feet, a sly grin erupting through his beard.

Phase one complete…

Digging the cell phone out of his pocket, he charged back down the stairs, well on his way to completing phase two.

oo00oo

Driving through the midday traffic was never fun and Brennan was getting antsy in the passenger seat. Glancing at her friend, she sighed heavily.

"Ange, are you sure you don't want me to drive?"

The artist rolled her eyes.

"With the mood you're in, yeah I'm sure, mainly because I want to get out of this car alive. Anyway, we're nearly there now."

Brennan sighed again and stared out of the window as they pulled to a stop at a red light. Her phone bleeping in the bag on the back seat, Angela curled her arm round behind her to grab it, not once taking her eyes off the red light.

Glancing at the caller ID, she struggled to keep herself from grinning.

"Hodgy! How's it going, bug boy?"

Brennan looked at her friend with a frown.

"Cam hasn't changed her mind has she? We don't have to go back, right?"

Angela waved a hand in Brennan's direction, trying to get her to quieten down. The anthropologist just narrowed her eyes and sighed heavily.

"Sure Hodgy, that's great. Thanks for letting me know. Just do me a favour and give me a ring when it's all ready. Yeah… Uh huh… Yeah, you too."

She hung up and switched the car back in to drive as the lights changed. Pulling off again, Angela glanced at the quizzical expression on her friend's face.

"He was just letting me know that Zach had finished with the skeleton we were working on earlier. They're just putting the tissue markers on now so I can give them a face later."

Quick thinking, Ange. Nicely done! But is she going to buy it?

Brennan just nodded, obviously satisfied, as she turned her gaze back out the window. Angela felt a slight smile pulling at her lips.

Ok, I'm never trusting me again… I'm getting way too good at this whole lying malarkey…

They drove on in near silence, finally pulling up to Brennan's building almost twenty minutes later. The anthropologist was out of the car and halfway up the steps before Angela had even turned off the engine. Rolling her eyes, she clambered out and followed her impatient friend upstairs.

Reaching the apartment, Brennan marched through the door and in to the living room. Standing in the middle of the room, a hint of uncertainty crept in to her expression. Angela pushed the door to and followed her friend inside.

Brennan turned, her face creased in to a frown, her sharp blue eyes distant.

"Angela…"

The look of doubt had the young artist concerned.

Don't do it, Bren. Don't shut us out now…

"What is it, sweetie?"

She guided her best friend to the couch, sitting her down.

"Angela, what am I doing?"

The artist swallowed hard.

"You're going after the man you love and you're fighting for him, everything you should be doing."

Bren stared off somewhere over Angela's shoulder.

"But all of this depends on love…"

She frowned, shaking her head as the anthropologist in her took over.

"Love is just the attraction between compatible genetic structures and the synchronisation of chemical responses. It's the release of serotonin and the rush of endorphins as our survival instincts attempt to help further the procreation of the species. It's not real. I mean, I can see that Booth is an ideal candidate for a monogamous relationship because he's a strong alpha male with good protective instincts as evident in his relationship with Parker. But none of that changes the fact that I'm basing all my intentions and plans on something that has absolutely no scientific basis beyond chemical reactions."

Angela blinked slowly and shook her head.

"Sweetie, you're just looking at the technical side of things. That works fine for cases and bones and prosecutions, but not now. This is about two people who want to be together, who want to share their lives with one another and just… Just love and be loved. There's nothing else like it in the world and you'll be thankful for every last second."

She sighed heavily, biting back tears.

"Kirk and I… We only had three weeks a year but those three weeks, they were the best of my life. And when I lost him…"

Brennan laid a gentle hand on her friend's arm as she cleared her throat.

"Don't make the same mistakes I did, Bren. You might never get another chance."

She sighed as she tilted her head away, shaking loose tears from her lower lashes. Brennan shuffled closer to her on the couch.

"Angela, I'm so sorry. I never meant to disparage your relationship with Kirk. Not that my powers of discernment have ever been particularly attuned to this sort of situation, but I know you cared a great deal for him, that you loved him. I'm sorry."

She waved a hand to silence her friend.

"Sweetie, you didn't disparage anything, it's fine. I just need you to realise that if you keep looking at your relationship with Booth as some kind of anthropological case study, all that's going to happen is he leaves without knowing how you really feel and you'll end up missing your moment."

Brennan started, Angela's words triggering a memory of a conversation with Rebecca, the mother of Booth's child.

"I think there's a moment for two people. A single moment where they can either catch fire or… Seeley and I, we missed our moment."

Brennan's heart began to pound in her chest and she practically jumped to her feet.

For just once in your life, Temperance Brennan, you're going to take a risk. No facts, no science, no anthropological markers, you're just going to have to trust that this is right. He leaves tomorrow, you might never get another chance.

You might never get another moment.

Blinking rapidly, Brennan dismissed the voice in the back of her head trying to convince her that the single moment theory was utterly preposterous, and turned back to her best friend.

"Then I guess I'd better get moving."

A/N: I promise it all kicks off proper with the culmination of Angela's plan in tomorrow's chapter so you'll finally find out what's in the cardboard tube. Just hoping it's not a massive disappointment. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go drug myself up with Night Nurse and Advil and go to bed... Please review and make me feel better!