Angela sits alone in the upstairs lounge, legs stretched out across the couch, ankles crossed. She's reading a book, one of those sappy romance novels. As Jack mounts the stairs, he sees the image on the front cover and smirks. He never figured Angela Montenegro to be a reader of such work.
As he clears his throat to announce his arrival, Angela sits up quickly, attempting to hide the novel she'd been reading. She smiles sheepishly at Hodgins as he sits down beside her. He inhales deeply, and she can't help but wonder if he is trying to catch the smell of her hair again. At this thought, another meanders into her mind. "You called it baby, man of odd enthusiasms." She can't help but smile.
Hodgins returns her smile and asks "Are you thinking about Brennan and Booth again, Ange?"
"Ha-ha! Actually, I was just thinking about you."
"Oh? Something good I hope."
"I was just remembering your remark about 'odd enthusiasms'. It seems we all have odd enthusiasms around here."
"Yeah; mine is trying to smell your hair, and yours is obsessing over your best friend and the hunky FBI agent." Hodgins says, laughing lightly.
"I'm not obsessed; I just want Bren to be happy. And Booth seems to make her happy. I just wish she'd realize how happy he could really make her if she'd let him." She sighs.
"Ya know Ange, I don't think she's having as much trouble with that concept as you think she is." Jack tells her with a knowing smile.
"What? Oh. You know something! What are you not telling me?" Angela asks, giving Jack her full attention.
Seeing the fascination in her eyes, Jack grins. "Shh! It's why I came up here..."
Angela inches closer to Jack as he recounts the event he has just witnessed; his excitement is evident. Jack's voice only breaks for a moment when Angela's knee touches his thigh. Elation overtakes him when she places her hand on his thigh and his breath catches in his throat.
"So, where did the pendant come from?" Angela asks with a quixotic expression.
"It was really hard to hear, but I'm pretty sure he said it was from his grandfather, and that it was given to him when he was just a little boy."
"And he put it on her? Oh my god. And you say that his fingers traced the necklace from clasp to pendant?" Angela was speaking in breathy tones now, her eyes soft as they met Jack's.
"Yeah; 'his fingers traced a delicate line from her neck to her collar bone, reveling in the feel of her soft, warm skin" Jack said playfully, mimicking the novel she'd thrown onto the table before she scooted closer to him.
This remark earns him a slap on the shoulder as Angela fights to keep her laughter under control. "Hey!" Jack manages through his laughter, and continues with the story, providing every detail he can recall.