The memorial for Vincent turns out to be a simple, impromptu affair between friends. They want to be there for him one more time, remembering him for the way he was, for his innocence and the joy he took in living, and not for the way he died. Bits of trivia, a song and some humorous stories about a person who has touched them in more ways than they'd ever stopped to consider before.
When it ends, a woman stays behind in the shadows of a chorus that keeps drifting, drifting away. ...you put the lime in the coconut...She's feeling optimistic as she watches two good and dear friends going about their fledgling attempts at flight. Finally, so much later than any of them would have expected-really, almost beyond the timeframe for hope, Brennan and Booth appear ready to leave the comfort of the nest, and she's antsy for them to go out and test their brand new baby wings. Way, way better late than never. Angela isn't feeling too much anxiety on their behalf, because she's certain that this time they're ready; he's been ready forever, and of late, there's been telltale signs of willingness in her friend as well.
Brennan showed up tonight like she said she would, but more significantly, she's brought a present. Maybe a potted hydrangea isn't your typical thing to bring along to a wake, but in this one instance it couldn't be truer that it's the thought that counts. In the past, Angela's witnessed that same woman avoid a gift exchange because it only served to highlight the fact that she didn't belong. She's also seen her at a different memorial of sorts for a friend whose fall still shocks, feeling that she had given nothing, and had nothing to give. But that's not the case tonight. With that plant, Angela recognizes a superhuman effort to reach across isolation and boundaries in an earnest attempt to become part of something bigger-and there's no doubt what prompted the change. Or rather, who.
She said she would come, that if he came back she would see him. And maybe there was a tiny bit of doubt, for those very few in the know; but the smile they shared a few minutes ago and the surprising horticultural gesture went at least part way in clarifying matters. With a sigh of relief, Angela understands that Brennan is coming around to the idea that she has something worthwhile to offer. Still…c'mon Brennan, you can do better than that; go for it, girl…
Angela knows that the FBI agent won't be the one making the first move. Won't, can't, because he's fallen into a pattern of being so, so careful with her, afraid of ever expecting anything for himself only to find there's nothing there. And it's been a very long day for him; for all of them, really.
Even in the low light of the loading area, Angela notices that Booth's eyes are following the hearse as it slowly drives away from the Jeffersonian's back door. God knows what he's thinking; the way he is, probably a mixed bag of both guilt and hope. Angela feels for him because Booth truly is a good man who can't seem to ever stop carrying with him all the burdens he's accumulated along the way. She hopes he can forgive himself this one time and that Vincent's death won't be yet another lead weight to contend with in the future.
Red means stop, green means go. It's definitely green now. So Go Brennan, Go. And Angela tries to refrain from smiling at the reference-Dr. Seuss is a little too much of a close personal friend these days and he's only bound to get closer; Hodgins has already bought the whole collection. But it's true; if this window closes, it probably won't open ever again in quite the same way, if at all. Angela's missed that same window plenty of times, smacking her face hard against the glass when she thought she could still go through. Thank God for her husband's unwavering devotion-she's never ceased being grateful for that one extra chance.
Booth looks a little unnerved and he's pointedly avoiding Brennan's eyes. Angela knows he'll be only too willing to go back for more of the usual, to settle for the same if his partner doesn't make the choice to take last night's forward momentum and run with it. But Angela's been there herself; regardless of what they say about friends with benefits, it doesn't work that way-it just can't. This then, is Custer's last stand for Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan. If they can't mesh tonight, if they can't weave their dreams and hopes together, they'll just unravel until they end up going their separate ways. And it would be such a crying shame, because if two human beings were ever meant to be together on this earth it's those two people standing there in front of her. She's seen their love, their sacrifice, their open hearts, how they bring out the best in each other and how they fill each other's empty parts. They deserve this opportunity; they need it.
And there's her girl at long last, bravely stepping up to the plate and taking a swing. Angela's heart skips a beat in anticipation, full of certainty that Booth's heart has just done the exact same thing. Brennan, still singing softly in her melodic voice, twines her arm around his and even though Angela can't quite see Booth's expression, she knows he has to be smiling because his partner wants him in just the right way for once. After all they've been through, after the intimate, potentially scary developments of last night, she still wants him. They share a shy little smile, barely daring to look at each other for too long, and Angela is sure now that they're going to be okay. She turns her back to them discreetly, walking into the Jeffersonian to join the rest-she's seen all that she came to see. They're flying; Booth and Brennan are finally flying, together, under a night sky that has suddenly become sunny and cloudlessly blue.