A/N: Thanks to everyone who read the first part of this story and especially to those who took the time to leave reviews. I appreciate it so much guys.

So more good, clean harmless fun. Hopefully, anyway. LOL

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Brennan manages to duck her for most of the afternoon.

Of course, Angela knows it isn't intentional, because she's out in the field with Booth and then when she finally makes it back to the lab, she's surrounded by Cam, Hodgins and Wendall, all entirely focused on the poor dead guy on their table and even Angela has to concede that finding out what happened to this guy probably should take precedence over what's going on with Brennan's sex life – even if said sex life now features Booth.

Seeley Freaking Booth in a starring role.

Good Lord.

It's not like anyone can fault Angela for being more than a little curious, more than a little interested in the whole thing. She checks the platform again, just after her usual three o'clock chocolate break, but Wendall's working alone, bent over the bones like the rest of the world doesn't exist. Her luck just might be changing, so she hightails it to Brennan's office, figuring she's got a good chance of cornering Brennan there and finally getting all the juicy, juicy details.

Because she dropped a hell of a bombshell in Angela's lap this morning and that kind of news begs further discussion.

Brennan is sleeping with her partner.

She's sleeping with Booth.

Finally.

After four long, long years.

It's like a freaking miracle.

And yet, for some reason, she didn't seem to think that such a development warranted a immediate session of girl talk with her best friend over wine and Cosmos and something really sweet with two spoons.

Of course, Angela can't let herself off the hook entirely either. She should have picked up on this. She should have sensed a change in the vibe between Brennan and Booth and put it all together. She could have confronted Brennan then and had the element of surprise on her side. Now Brennan's holding all the cards, and while she's usually refreshingly candid when it comes to these kinds of subjects, too often she's naively obtuse, like she can't even fathom why anyone – even someone who cares about her – would care about what's going on in her life.

Angela comes to a standstill on the doorstep to Brennan's office when she realizes that good doctor has given her the slip once again. Still, Angela finds herself grinning, practically squirming with anticipation, because she may not be able to corner Brennan right now, but she's found the next best thing.

Booth.

Slouched across the sofa, he sits in Brennan's office with his legs propped up on the coffee table and an issue of Sports Illustrated opened in his lap. He is utterly unsuspecting, and though Brennan tried to protect him earlier, now he's utterly defenseless as well.

Because Angela's going to get her answers – no matter how uncomfortable it might be for the parties involved.

"I'm really disappointed in you, Booth," she announces as she saunters into the room. "Because I've always thought of us as the most normal people around here…"

He looks up, his brow furrowed adorably.

"Well, Cam too, I guess," she continues. "But she's kind of a late-comer to the party so…"

Booth frowns, probably because he hates when people don't get right to the point, but she merely smiles back at him, even if she's enjoying this all a little more than she should.

"Yeah," he says crankily. "And?"

"And," she enunciates carefully. "I expect you to understand how these things work. I expect you to get that when things happen - you know, big, monumental things, things that people have been waiting years for - you share the news. Because that's what normal people do. They share the news with their friends." She sits down across from him, narrowing her eyes pointedly as something occurs to her. "Unless you're ashamed or something. Which, for the record, would be utterly ridiculous… and unforgivable."

Booth shifts forward on the sofa, his expression growing increasingly sour.

"What the hell are you talking about, Angela?"

"Apparently you're a big fan of broccoli. That's what I'm talking about."

He stares back at her blankly, like he honestly has no idea what she's talking about, and she wonders if this is all an act. He's trained to hold back, trained to work undercover and obscure the truth. Unlike Brennan who exhibits an almost pathological tendency to tell the truth, Booth is more than comfortable with skating around it, twisting it for a good cause.

Angela has no doubt that he would consider his relationship with Brennan a good cause.

"Yeah," he says after a moment, almost warily, like he just might realize that he's confessing more to a fondness for veggies. "I like broccoli. Especially if it's covered in cheese sauce or a really-"

Angela breaks out in a fit of giggles, shaking her head.

"Wow. I never figured you'd be so kinky..."

Booth frowns again and he does this squinty thing with eyes that only makes laugh harder.

"Okay. Now I'm totally lost. What's so interesting about the fact that I like broccoli?"

Angela practically springs out of her chair, surprising Booth, who falls back against the sofa cushions like he might fear for his life.

"It's not just interesting, Booth," she declares. "It's the most interesting thing I've heard in years. Because in this case, broccoli isn't broccoli. It's code for going down on my best friend like there's no freaking tomorrow!"

That's all it takes to send Booth into a spastic fit, shushing her while simultaneously whipping his head toward the door to check and see if anyone's passing by to overhear.

"Jesus," he hisses. "Would you keep your voice down?"

"Why? You saving all the hot details for your letter to Penthouse Forum?"

He leaps to his feet, pacing in agitation just in front of Brennan's desk.

"It's called decorum, okay? This is a place of business. We're at work. Have a little respect."

Angela laughs again because this is more fun than she even anticipated.

"You know…" she muses, leaning back in her chair to watch him weave his back and forth path across the carpet. "Brennan's never really concerned herself with decorum before. And yet here she is, keeping something this major from me. Her best friend. That's got to be your influence, Booth." He looks over at her, frowning. "I mean, usually by now, I'd know everything – locations, positions, anatomical wonders…"

Booth is totally wearing his panic face now, with his red cheeks and damp forehead. He glances toward the door again, like he's hoping someone might pass by and save him somehow. He looks a lot like the suspects he's usually putting the squeeze on, Angela thinks, and if he could call for a lawyer to get him out of this mess, she's pretty sure he would.

Fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on your point of view – it's going to take a hell of a lot more than a lawyer to deter Angela.

Still, she manages to refrain from gleefully rubbing her hands together.

She's not entirely insensitive.

"How long has this been going on?" she asks. "That's really what I want to know. Because I haven't noticed anything different with you two and it kills me to think that this could have been going on under my nose for weeks and I didn't pick up on it. It's impossible, really. I mean, I totally have a radar when it comes to these things…"

Booth stops his pacing and takes a deep breath, getting himself under control. When he looks over at her, he is stubbornly blank-faced and she realizes they've gotten to the point where he's going to try to stonewall her. She leans back against the cushions, crossing her arms against her chest.

She can be just as stubborn as he can.

"Look," he says, almost patiently. "I've got no clue what you're talking about. You got this crazy idea in your head because of that stupid conversation this morning and now you're running wild with it. I'm not about to indulge your-"

"She pretty much told me, Booth," Angela says. "Without, you know, *telling* me."

He drops his hands to his hips.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means she said you were a big, enthusiastic fan of broccoli." She resists the urge to wink at him, knowing that might very well push him over the edge and as fun as that might, she still hopes to get a confirmation out of him. "And it was pretty damn obvious that she was talking from personal experience."

Booth's jaw clenches, like he's been asked to chew glass, but he eventually nods.

"With broccoli being…"

He gestures with his hand, making small circles in front of him, and Angela grins.

"Yup."

"Well, then you should go talk to her," he says, sounding angry or disappointed or hurt – Angela's not sure which. "I mean, obviously she's a lot more comfortable sharing the intimate details of her personal life than I am. I mean, God forbid you want to keep private things private… What a crazy idea, right? I guess Bones doesn't think it's a big deal but-"

"Honey!" Angela laughs kindly, reaching out to pat his arm. "Take it as a compliment. That is one damn satisfied woman and she's dying to share. That's how girls are with their friends." He looks away, his posture still rigid, and she sighs. "The only reason she's held back this long is out of respect for you, you know. For your feelings."

He lifts his head, meeting her eyes.

"She said that?"

The look in his eyes, so hopeful and vulnerable, is enough to melt a heart of a stone, and Angela is nothing but a big old softie so she's nearly in a puddle at his feet.

"She didn't have to. I know her, Booth. I'm her best friend."

He considers this for a moment, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. He doesn't have to nod or say he understands because Angela knows that like her, Booth's faith is limitless – at least when it comes to the people he cares about. He wets his lip, letting out a long, slow breath.

"Yeah, well, you're still gonna have to talk to her," he says. "Because I've got a case to solve and I'm not about to waste time gossiping with you, all right?"

Angela smiles.

"See, it's not really gossip if you're directly involved. Then it's just sharing the details of your life."

Booth nearly grins now, his eyes bright.

"I don't share. Ask Sweets."

"But what if I ask Bren?" Angela teases. "What do you think she'll have to say?"

He huffs out a low breath, and she's not sure if it's a reluctant laugh or a frustrated sigh. He shakes his head, heading for the door without as much as a backwards glance. She laughs again, settling back in the chair to wait for Brennan.

She'll get her answers. One way or another.