82. Dirt
Six hours after she'd left Brennan's apartment, grinning madly at the revelation that her best friend and her partner were finally sleeping together and pursuing a romantic relationship, Angela retrieved her cell phone, holding it to her ear with one hand while the other cradled Michael Vincent, the baby sleeping in her lap. Dialling Brennan's cell she had every intention of dragging the dirt from her best friend in regards to every single second of her time with Booth.
"Hi, Angela."
"Bren, sweetie, please tell me you're still with Studly."
"We just finished eating takeout."
"You sound happy, Bren."
"I am, Ange, so incredibly happy."
The line muffled suddenly, a smile lighting up the artist's face as she sat back and waited.
"—Booth just kissed me."
"Trust me, sweetie, that was more than a kiss."
"It was foreplay."
"I hope I could barely make that out because Booth's mouth is doing exquisite things to you and not because one of us needs a new phone."
"Ange?"
"Yeah, Bren?"
"I have something to tell you, but Booth said I should tell you in person."
"Now I'm worried."
"Can you meet me tomorrow, or would you like me to come to your house?"
"Breakfast at the diner?"
"No, no, no— not breakfast, Bones will be at the diner at one."
"Booth—"
"One, Bones, it's a Sunday and we're sleeping in."
"I don't sleep in."
"We'll see."
"Okay, I'm going to hang up because you two are about to jump each other."
"Booth is actually already on top of me, so—"
"Bones!"
"Alright, you two have fun, and Bren, I will see you tomorrow."
"Bye, Ange."
"Bye, Angela."
Laughing, she hung up the phone, wishing the next day to hurry up.