Booth and Rizzoli drove to Hodgins' house in high spirits. It was really a shame they didn't live closer to each other, because Booth couldn't think of another person, even Brennan, that was this entertaining to be around. Brennan could be fun, but she wouldn't have been able to sing and dance along to "Drop it Like it's Hot" on the radio, or enthusiastically bash a nearby car that had a Yankees sticker on it with the same zeal as Jane. Likewise, Jane was wishing Booth could just come be a cop with her in Boston. Granted Korsak was like a second father to her and Frost was a great partner, but sometimes she felt like Booth was just the kind of guy friend she needed. Maura was great to talk to and could be very comforting, but it was so nice to have a conversation with someone who didn't need an explanation of what was intended to be literal and what wasn't—someone else who acted on intuition.

"Booth," Jane said after a comfortable silence. "You're a great guy, I hope you know that. You are a great guy."

"Thanks, Jane."

"I've always thought that. You're solid. You're good. I hope that if things don't work out with your forensic anthropologist, that you find someone else who's going to love you and respect you."

He turned onto Hodgins' street. "Likewise, Jane. Really. Um…" They had pulled into the driveway. "You're sure you want to go up there?"

"Wait, we're here?" Jane asked, leaning forward and staring up. "Holy crap, is your friend a freakin' millionaire?"

"Well, sort of," Booth said, following Jane's lead and getting out of the car. "Hodgins inherited a bunch of money, but don't sweat it." He remembered how sensitive Jane could be about rich people who flaunted their wealth. "He's a really humble guy; I mean, he technically never needed to work a day in his life, but he's a genius at his job and really cool. We didn't even know he was rich until he was kidnapped and held hostage for millions of dollars," he added with a laugh, which Jane returned. "So don't freak out on me, okay?"

"Yeah, man, don't worry about it!" Jane chuckled as they walked up. "A butler's not going to answer the door, though, is he?"

With a fake smile, Booth rang the bell and said, "I highly doubt that." In fact, none other than Temperance Brennan had come bounding over to the door to open it. "Bones! Hey!"

"Hello!" she said, pulling the door back wide enough for the two ex-soldiers to come inside. She shut it behind them and extended a hand to Jane. "My name's Dr. Temperance Brennan, forensic anthropologist at the Jeffersonian Institute. You must be Jane Rizzoli—and you have exquisite zygomatic bones, if you don't mind my saying so."

Jane smiled, shaking Brennan's hand. "Yeah, um…I got everything you said except that last part."

"Oh, I apologize. Cheek bones, you have exquisite cheek bones."

"Thank you, Dr. Brennan."

Booth bumped Jane's shoulder with his own and headed down the hallway. "Just call her Bones."

"Actually, I'm not entirely fond of that nickname," Brennan said as she and Jane followed Booth. "It's a crude microcosm for my line of work, Booth. It would be analogous to a situation where I just started calling you Gumshoe."

"Gumshoe and Bones," Booth said with a chuckle. "I like it!"

"Sounds like a great name for a TV show," Jane chimed in.

"Well, despite the fact that Booth and I would make for extremely attractive television stars, none of the big networks would ever broadcast a show about our jobs," Brennan said. "Our careers are far too grisly for basic cable censors. What about you, Jane, what do you do?"

"Actually, I'm a gumshoe," Jane laughed. "Homicide detective in Boston."

"Really! How fascinating that you both wound up in such similar lines of work!"

They had arrived in Hodgins' sizable screening room, and everyone inside it immediately stood up. Cam was the first to walk over and introduce herself, followed by Sweets. This distracted them all from noticing that upon catching sight of Jane, Angela and Hodgins wore twin jaw drops that conveyed a train of thought that was some variation on holy-hell-that-woman-is-hot. They were pulled out of their reveries when Booth brought Jane over to meet them.

"And this is Angela Montenegro, forensic artist and our specialist on facial reconstruction," Booth said, "And Jack Hodgins, our bug and mineral guy."

"Bug and mineral expert," Hodgins said. "I do in fact have several degrees."

Jane gave him an indulgent smile. "Gotcha. Nice house, by the way."

"Thank y—"

"So Angela," Jane said smoothly. "Facial reconstruction? What exactly does that entail?"

Angela reflected Jane's megawatt grin. "If I can be honest, I think it's really cool. I have a three-dimensional graphics program to assist with craniofacial reconstruction, which helps us determine what our victims looked like before their deaths. It comes in really handy for those cases where the identity is hard to, um, identify." Sustained eye contact with Jane was making her uncharacteristically nervous.

"Absolutely brilliant," Jane husked. "We could really use someone like you back at headquarters."

"Which is where?" Angela asked.

"Boston."

"Headquarters?" said Cam. "Are you a cop?"

"Homicide detective," Jane answered.

Noticing the look of keen admiration on Booth's face, Brennan asked, "What prompted you to leave the army, Jane?"

If Jane were the shy type, Booth might have worried about her being cornered into answering such a question, but he knew she wouldn't mind. Besides, she was out and proud. Clasping her hands in front of her, Jane said, "I'm trying to think of a clever way to say someone asked what they shouldn't have or I told something I shouldn't have, but I'm coming up empty. I was discharged under Don't Ask, Don't Tell." There were a couple of small, sympathetic gasps, but Jane just smiled good-naturedly. "I was really upset at the time, but I've come to terms with it. It was unjust and it was stupid, but being discharged got me where I am today, and I'm really happy with my life right now."

"Well…that's…an admirable way to look at the situation," Cam said.

"Thanks, I just try to keep a good attitude. People can be stupid, especially politicians, and that stupidity can hurt. But in my line of work—and in your guys' line of work too, obviously—you encounter real evil, real wickedness. It goes above and beyond being stupid. If I can't fight evil over there, I'm fine doing it over here." She had known that she was likely to be interrogated like this by Booth's friends, but she still wasn't fond of being the center of attention, so she cast about for a way to deflect it. "Speaking of evil," she said, glancing at the screen. "Is this the original Godzilla? I've never seen it…"

The group wandered back towards the television (where the movie had still been playing), but Angela took Brennan by the elbow and said something about going to the kitchen for more beer. Once they were in the hallway and safely out of earshot, Angela squealed and let out a breathless series of "oh my god"s.

"You certainly seem very pleased about something," Brennan observed, smiling herself because of what a relief it had been to hear that Jane was gay.

"Did you see that woman back there?" Angela laughed. "Or hear her? Oh, my goodness. Sex in a voice." She didn't give Brennan time to puzzle over the logistics of such an idea, plowing on as they entered the kitchen. "Wow, just wow. I have never wanted to get someone in bed so fast to hear them say dirty things to me in such a sexy voice. Ever. She's like a female version of Booth!"

"She's quite attractive," Brennan agreed.

"Attractive? Honey, that's a word you use when you're describing the doofus your friend is dating to try and make her feel better about herself. I don't think they've even come up with a word yet to describe such a fierce combination of hot and sexy."

"Once they do, I'll let you know."

"Knew I could count on you."

Soon they returned to the others with more beer, Angela making sure to deliver Jane's can personally. She was rewarded with a dazzling smile for her efforts, and sat closer to the detective than was probably necessary. Booth and Jane kept up a Mystery Science Theater-like commentary for most of the movie, entertaining everyone but Brennan, who thought film viewing should be done in a more respectful manner. Before the movie was over, the lot of them had managed to plow through nearly five boxes of pizza and more beer than any of them would've liked to admit—but Sweets and Angela seemed to be the only ones to have crossed their breaking point.

"Hey Jane," Booth said once the film had ended and Hodgins was switching it out for Godzilla vs. Mothra. "Remember that Kurihara kid?"

"Yeah, Kenji?" Jane laughed. "That guy was hilarious!"

"He was the only Asian in our unit," Booth explained to the others. "And he was the worst prankster, too—harmless stuff, but really funny. Jane, remember Cadet Miller? This girl had a Japanese haiku tattooed on her forearm, and for about a week, Kenji had her convinced it was actually a recipe for Tiger penis soup!"

"Sounds charming," said Brennan as everyone else howled with laughter.

Booth nodded, opening another can of beer. "Funny kid, that Kenji. Not a bad soldier, either—owes his life to Jane, though."

"Booth."

"Come on, it's a great story!"

"What happened?" Angela asked.

Ignoring Jane's tacit requests for him to stop, Booth focused his gaze on Angela to reply. "Simple. There was a sniper, Jane saw him and Kenji didn't. He'd have been dead on the ground of she hadn't jumped in this guy's line of fire—got her in the shoulder, but only seconds before someone else got him in the head!"

This seemed to impress everyone, but Jane couldn't quite manage a smile. "Just doing my job," she said gruffly. "I turned out to be fine, and Kenji was all right and the sniper was killed, that's all that matters." To emphasize how keen she was on changing the subject, she stood up and said, "Hodgins, where might I find your nearest bathroom?"

"Take a left and go down the hall, another left, then your first right—"

"I think you could use a tour guide," Angela said, standing up. "Come with me, I'll take you there." She was tipsy, but she was familiar enough with Hodgins' house to remember where every bathroom was located.

Once they had gone, Sweets guffawed loudly and Hodgins threw an empty DVD case at his head.

"What was that for?" Brennan asked both Sweets and Hodgins as the new movie began.

"Our friends just left to hook-up," Booth explained under his breath.

"To hook what up?"

"Female parts," Sweets answered. "To each other."

Brennan let out a laugh of understanding. "Oh! Ha, ha! Yes! Sexual intercourse."

While awkward laughter ensued in that part of the house, Angela was trying, in her own endearing inebriated way, to seduce Jane. "That was really brave of you," she said as they neared the bathroom. "Taking a bullet for that kid."

"Not brave, just my duty."

Angela let out a drunken laugh. "You know, you talk just like Booth! Booth's old army buddy, Detective Sexy McBadass."

"Wow," Jane chuckled. "I think I'm going to have to get a nameplate with that one on it!" She warily took a step back as Angela just chuckled and leaned closer to her. "Um… could you hold that thought? I actually like, really have to pee."

"Yeah, go ahead, that's hot."

Jane just grinned and shook her head, ducking into the bathroom—and, for good measure, locking the door. Going about her business, she tried to clear her head: there was an incredibly beautiful woman out there who was definitely interested in her, and was probably willing to have sex with her in that bathroom. No strings attached, no complications. This'd all be good and fine if Jane Rizzoli wasn't a woman with scruples, but she had them in spades. Finishing up, she thought she could hear Angela doing a Godzilla impersonation in the hallway, but as soon as she opened the door again, the woman had straightened up.

"Oh no," Angela hiccupped, processing the rueful smile on Jane's face. "You're gonna break my heart, aren't you?" Despite making this (correct) guess, she walked over to Jane and cornered her against the wall, moving in closer.

"Let's not do this," Jane said quietly, giving Angela a gentle push.

"Why? Aren't you attracted…to me?"

"You're a beautiful woman, Angela, but I…I don't hook up, I'm sorry."

"I can change that."

Jane ducked under Angela's arm as the artist had veered in again. "Don't take it personally, please—besides, Angela is my mother's name, so that'd be, y'know, kind of weird for me…" This had just occurred to her, bringing the idea of sex with this woman to a whole other level of creepy.

Frowning, Angela turned around. "You could…call me Angie?"

"That'd be weird, too."

"Is there someone else?"

"Someone else?" Jane laughed. "Angela, I just met you, like two hours ago! And besides that, you are drunk out of your mind, I don't want to take advantage of you."

"Please, take advantage of me!"

Jane started walking back to the screening room. She thanked her lucky stars that she had been blessed with a good memory; otherwise, she very much doubted that she would have been able to remember how to get back on her own (and get away from being alone with Angela). The despondent artist sighed and defeat and followed, wondering aloud why it was that she always seemed to fall for serious women. Jane responded that she would probably have forgotten all about her the next day, when she'd be back on her way to Boston anyway. Everyone seemed a little surprised when the women came back into the room so soon, and Sweets giggled into a beer can at the look of disappointment on Angela's face and light embarrassment on Jane's. Soon though, they were able to fall back into their mode of comfortable simultaneous talking and movie-watching, getting them through the rest of Godzilla vs. Mothra and one more film.

It was nearing two o'clock in the morning when Jane finally stretched and said, "I think it's time for me to get out of here."

"Already?" Hodgins asked. "It's only…it's only…it's early, still!"

"It's too early," Jane yawned. "I need to be on the road in a few hours."

"Just stay the night here, everyone else is," Hodgins said. Indeed, Sweets was already asleep on the floor and Cam was curled up in a chair with her eyes closed. Booth was afraid he'd drunk too much to drive, and Brennan knew she had. "Come on, really," Hodgins insisted. "I have a guest room and everything."

"Oh, just the one?" Jane teased him.

He snorted a laugh, which quickly turned into a belch. "C'mon, follow me."

"I'd be fine on like, a couch or something, really."

"No, take him up on it," Booth said. "You've got a long drive ahead of you, Rizzoli. Rest up in comfort."

"Okay," Jane said, giving Booth a smile. "Lead on, Mr. Hodgins."

"Please, it's just Hodgins," he said, leading her out of the room. "Mr. Hodgins was my father… and my grandfather …and his father…"

Once Hodgins' voice was out of earshot, Booth turned to look at Brennan, who was staring as if hypnotized at the DVD menu replaying itself on the television. "So? What'd you think, Bones?"

"I think the series really drops off after the first film. It's as if the producers were only interested in recreating the most—"

"I meant about Rizzoli."

"Oh! Well, I can see why you two were good friends. She's a lot like you, I mean."

Booth smiled. "In what way?"

"Well, she's very funny and smart, and willing to put her life on the line for one of her friends," Brennan said. "Also, judging by her interaction or lack thereof with Angela, she's principled despite possessing a masculine, dominant energy that women find irresistible."

"Did you find it irresistible?" Booth asked with a smirk.

"I would have, if I had any sexual proclivity towards women," Brennan answered, fighting a yawn.

"And yet…and yet you do find my brand of masculine, dominant energy totally resistible, right?"

Brennan tried to focus her gaze on him. "I don't know if I'm comfortable using such an exclusive term as 'totally.'"

By the time Booth had figured out the implications of what that meant, Brennan was lying on her side on the couch, with her eyes shut and mouth hanging open. Booth whispered her name a couple of times, but it seemed that she really was asleep, so he resignedly leaned back in his own chair and tried to catch a few winks.

At 8:30 the next morning, Jane woke up to the sound of her phone buzzing on the nightstand. For a moment she thought the noise was coming from somebody drilling outside, but then she caught sight of her vibrating phone and hastened to pick it up. "Rizzoli."

"Jane!"

She sat up at the sound of her partner's voice. "Maura! Um, good morning…"

"Are you on the road yet?"

"I was just about to leave…"

"Good. It'll take you approximately eight hours and twenty-nine minutes to get back to Boston, not including time for rest stops. You need to be back in time for Tommy's birthday dinner at my house, or your mother told me to tell you she might never forgive you."

With a groan, Jane turned and hung her legs over the side of the bed. "I know, I cut it pretty close. I'll get there as soon as I can, Maura."

"Well, it can't possibly be sooner than eight hours and twenty-nine minutes from now unless you speed, which would be breaking the law, which would be bad since you're in law enforcement."

"Maybe I'll just get out my siren and get to Boston in four hours." There was a long silence. "I'm joking, Maura. See you tonight."

"Goodbye!"

Jane hung up. There was nothing like Maura Isles' perky voice to cut through a light hangover. It had taken her a moment to remember where she was, because Hodgins' lavish guest room could not have been more different from the tiny hell hole of a motel she'd been staying in. Vanity was never an issue with her, but she did feel a bit self-conscious going back down to the rest of the house dressed in the same clothes she'd had on last night (and slept it)—but, she reasoned, everyone else would be in the same boat. Still, without the alcohol giving her more of a friendly and confident attitude, she felt a little weird being around all of Booth's pals and staying in a stranger's house. It was only when she was standing at the door of the room that she realized she had no idea which floor she was on or how to find anyone else, cuing her to reach for her phone again and dial Booth.

"Jane!" he said once he picked up. "You haven't left already, have you?"

"I haven't even left my room—I'm lost and I have no idea where to find you in this freaking mansion!"

That made him laugh. "Okay, describe your surroundings."

"Um…there's a portrait of Thomas Jefferson hanging over the bed, and a bunch of colonial-looking dishes on the cabinet in front of the mirror…"

"Gotcha. I'll be right up."

About two minutes later, Booth had showed up at the room to escort Jane down to the kitchen. They had a good laugh about the ridiculousness of the size of the house, but big though it was, the journey to the rest of the group didn't give them enough time to bring up what they wanted to. So, they both got a cup of the strong coffee Hodgins had just made and joined everyone else at the table.

"I'm sorry, was I a complete ass last night?" Angela groaned. "I can't remember for sure, but I feel like I did something really dumb."

"Nah, you didn't," Jane said.

"She's being polite," Brennan announced from the head of the table. "You showed her where the bathroom was, which was apparently some kind of code for sexual conduct, but judging by the haste of your return—"

"Nothing happened," Jane said, giving Angela a reassuring smile. The artist only muttered "oh, God" into her cup and tried not to blush. "Hodgins, thanks for letting me stay here, I really appreciate it."

"Hey, any time you're in D.C., you've got a free place to stay."

"What brought you to the area, anyway?" Cam asked. "Business?"

"Family," Jane answered before downing the rest of her coffee. "My dad just moved here, so…actually you might be seeing more of me."

This was met with general enthusiasm, especially by Booth, but there was something strained about Jane's smile. A few minutes later, she explained that she really had to get going, and Booth offered to give her a ride back to her motel and car.

"So wait, if your dad lives here now, why weren't you staying with him?" Booth asked as they hit the road.

"He's living with someone out here," Jane answered. "In some woman's apartment. It's kind of small, and I didn't really want to be at her place anyway." A heavy silence followed this, and folding her arms, Jane figured she owed it to Booth to explain more. "He and my mom split up. Nobody's really talked to him about it—Frankie, Tommy and I, we all sided with Ma. My dad didn't treat her very nice, but I shouldn't have shut him out so long. Besides…" She sighed. "Dad was cool with it, with my being gay. You want to know the worst possible way to get outed? By the freaking military of the United States."

Booth turned to stare at her, an admittedly bad idea while driving. "Your parents didn't know you were gay until you were discharged?"

"Nope. Not for sure, anyway. I couldn't bring myself to tell Ma, she was so hung up on having a girly daughter. She had all these hopes and dreams for me, and they all depended on my being straight! I don't mean to complain, I mean it could have been so much worse—she might have never wanted to see me again, or asked me to try and get therapy to change, or something. But she's so disappointed, I can see that. Pop never made me feel weird about it."

"Well, that's something," Booth said. "Look, Jane, if your dad stays here and you ever come back, just stay with me! You don't have to go to Hodgins' place, I got room just as well as anybody else."

"Thanks, Booth. I might take you up on it." A few more silent moments passed, but they were considerably less awkward than the ones that had gone before. "So," Jane eventually drawled. "I gotta tell you, that Brennan is something else."

"Yeah, she's pretty…upfront about stuff," Booth chuckled.

"I've been trying to think—she and my Maura would either be best friends, or they'd drive each other crazy."

"Your…Maura?"

"Oh, geez," Jane said, putting her face in her hand and groaning a laugh. "Maura, you know, the one I told you about. She called this morning to make sure I was on my way to come back. It's Tommy's birthday, so she and my mom planned this nice dinner for him at Maura's house."

"So she's pretty close to your family, then?"

"Yeah, they love her. Especially my mom, she's like the straight, feminine daughter she never had."

"Maybe you should tell your mom how you feel about this woman."

"Maybe you should…mind your own business."

"Clever, Rizzoli."

"Shut up, Booth."