Bones ficlet: Angela/Hodgins, PG
For lyssie. I wonder if you were being impish in your prompt, since you couldn't have Kara/Anders. ;) Consequently, you get something rambly...
Angela sat at Brennan's desk, and he marveled at how she was the kind of person who could make even the most territorial, closed-off people-especially the kind that hid those tendencies-feel at ease. She knew just when to back off and when to barrel on in and straighten things out.
Which apparently included carefully sifting a person's jelly beans.
As Jack crept into the room, he noticed that Brennan was sitting on her own couch, looking at case files, having abdicated the desk chair to Angela and her apparent quest to subdivide an enormous bowl of jelly beans into its constituent colors/flavors.
"Babe?" he said.
She looked up, her face oddly focused on the counting.
"Still waiting on Zach for the skull," she said before she went back to cordoning off the greens from the smaller pile in front, sweeping them in with the rest of their cohorts with the straight edge of a ruler.
"Okay. But what are you doing?"
She just wrinkled her nose at him as if to say, Duh…
Brennan said, "I told her people could just pick around what they don't like."
"They shouldn't have to," Angela replied to her. Then she looked up at Jack. "Cam says the red ones taste like cough syrup."
"She's not wrong."
"And Booth hates the lemon ones," Brennan said without looking up.
"Like dish soap," Jack said with a nod. "But the really offensive thing about a bag of jelly beans is…" But as his eyes surveyed the landscape of the desk, he said, "Well, apparently we got lucky, since it looks like this is a sensible candy-maker who realized 99 percent of the population has to spend ten minutes picking out all the black ones before they can even think about eating them."
"I don't think that's an accurate number," Brennan said. "And this company is not that sensible."
Jack looked at Angela quizzically, and she said, "They're the first ones I took out. I know you don't like licorice."
He smiled. "It was sweet of you to protect me, dear, but I'm usually pretty good at avoiding what I don't like."
"It wasn't sweet," Brennan said. Angela glared at her. But Brennan piped up anyway: "Look what she's got in her purse."
Angela shot him a look. "On pain of death."
Brennan raised her eyebrows at him, so he crossed over to the desk and cupped his hand around Angela's jaw, lifting it to kiss her. Her mouth was sugar sticky, almost overwhelmingly so, and although he could taste lime and cherry, maybe even the sweet citrus-y tang of orange underneath it all, the primary flavor he got as he slipped his tongue into her mouth was licorice.
"Ang," he said, breaking away from the kiss-reluctantly, despite the licorice-shaking his head in mock disdain.
"There's nothing wrong with them!"
"Only everything," he said.
She stuck out her tongue, which was a very Halloween-looking orangey-black.
Brennan said, "She's absurdly overprotective. She's got them squirreled away in her purse like she's harboring refugees from some candy genocide."
"More like fugitives from a crime against nature," Jack said.
"Now, see," she said, going back to her sorting, "this is exactly why I'm doing this. What would happen if everybody came in here and decided to get rid of the ones they don't like?"
"We wouldn't be plagued with jelly beans that taste like old ladies," he said. Angela gave him a confused, perhaps half-disgusted frown, much like she did when she heard about one of his and Zack's experiments, and he added, "You know what I mean."
Brennan said, "What would happen would be we’d have a bowl with nothing but orange."
"What?" Jack said.
Angela gave him a told you so face as Brennan said, "In addition to Dr. Saroyan's problems with cherry and Booth's dislike of lemon, Zack won't touch the lime ones and Angela really, really hates grape."
"Which sucks for me," she said. "With some brands, it's hard to tell the black from the purple."
"So this is essentially self-protection?" he said.
"Pretty much," she replied.
"So how do you decide who gets which flavor?" Jack said, indicating the monochrome piles.
"It doesn't work like that. I'll divide them up, and then I'll distribute them back into mixed piles for each person, leaving out the offending flavor."
"You have way too much time on your hands," he said as he reached down to pick out a red one, only to have his hand slapped.
"Tell that to the king of the lab out there. Tell him I'm revoking his title today if he doesn't hurry it up."
"You can't revoke his title."
"Then you do it. Go be brilliant. Just don't interfere in my process."
She looked so serious and focused, he knew it was no use reasoning with her, explaining the complex sociology of the lab. She had enough of her own complex science to deal with, apparently, and it was adorable.
"Sort yourself my share of the orange ones, okay?" he said. "And give my grapes to Zack. He likes them."
"You're making this way too complicated," she said.
He just shook his head. "Says the woman who apparently did covert research about people's flavor preferences."
"It wasn't covert," Brennan said. "She just pays attention."
"I know she does," he said, smiling, then he leaned over to kiss her on the forehead.
But after he did, she caught his lab coat as he pulled away and slid her lips back over his, still sugary and still tasting very much of licorice. He let her open his mouth with her tongue, and he kissed her sloppily in return.
"Nice try," he murmured, kissing her on the cheek before he plucked a green jelly bean out of its pile and popped it in his mouth as he went toward the door. "But you can't convert me to your blasphemy."
"Oh, honey, you're the heretic to the true faith," she replied. She pulled her bundle of black jelly beans from her purse on the floor and placed one directly on her tongue.
He allowed himself a long look before he swept out the door and made a beeline for his workstation, looking for a way to dethrone Zack.
~
Angela sat at Brennan's desk, and he marveled at how she was the kind of person who could make even the most territorial, closed-off people-especially the kind that hid those tendencies-feel at ease. She knew just when to back off and when to barrel on in and straighten things out.
Which apparently included carefully sifting a person's jelly beans.
As Jack crept into the room, he noticed that Brennan was sitting on her own couch, looking at case files, having abdicated the desk chair to Angela and her apparent quest to subdivide an enormous bowl of jelly beans into its constituent colors/flavors.
"Babe?" he said.
She looked up, her face oddly focused on the counting.
"Still waiting on Zach for the skull," she said before she went back to cordoning off the greens from the smaller pile in front, sweeping them in with the rest of their cohorts with the straight edge of a ruler.
"Okay. But what are you doing?"
She just wrinkled her nose at him as if to say, Duh…
Brennan said, "I told her people could just pick around what they don't like."
"They shouldn't have to," Angela replied to her. Then she looked up at Jack. "Cam says the red ones taste like cough syrup."
"She's not wrong."
"And Booth hates the lemon ones," Brennan said without looking up.
"Like dish soap," Jack said with a nod. "But the really offensive thing about a bag of jelly beans is…" But as his eyes surveyed the landscape of the desk, he said, "Well, apparently we got lucky, since it looks like this is a sensible candy-maker who realized 99 percent of the population has to spend ten minutes picking out all the black ones before they can even think about eating them."
"I don't think that's an accurate number," Brennan said. "And this company is not that sensible."
Jack looked at Angela quizzically, and she said, "They're the first ones I took out. I know you don't like licorice."
He smiled. "It was sweet of you to protect me, dear, but I'm usually pretty good at avoiding what I don't like."
"It wasn't sweet," Brennan said. Angela glared at her. But Brennan piped up anyway: "Look what she's got in her purse."
Angela shot him a look. "On pain of death."
Brennan raised her eyebrows at him, so he crossed over to the desk and cupped his hand around Angela's jaw, lifting it to kiss her. Her mouth was sugar sticky, almost overwhelmingly so, and although he could taste lime and cherry, maybe even the sweet citrus-y tang of orange underneath it all, the primary flavor he got as he slipped his tongue into her mouth was licorice.
"Ang," he said, breaking away from the kiss-reluctantly, despite the licorice-shaking his head in mock disdain.
"There's nothing wrong with them!"
"Only everything," he said.
She stuck out her tongue, which was a very Halloween-looking orangey-black.
Brennan said, "She's absurdly overprotective. She's got them squirreled away in her purse like she's harboring refugees from some candy genocide."
"More like fugitives from a crime against nature," Jack said.
"Now, see," she said, going back to her sorting, "this is exactly why I'm doing this. What would happen if everybody came in here and decided to get rid of the ones they don't like?"
"We wouldn't be plagued with jelly beans that taste like old ladies," he said. Angela gave him a confused, perhaps half-disgusted frown, much like she did when she heard about one of his and Zack's experiments, and he added, "You know what I mean."
Brennan said, "What would happen would be we’d have a bowl with nothing but orange."
"What?" Jack said.
Angela gave him a told you so face as Brennan said, "In addition to Dr. Saroyan's problems with cherry and Booth's dislike of lemon, Zack won't touch the lime ones and Angela really, really hates grape."
"Which sucks for me," she said. "With some brands, it's hard to tell the black from the purple."
"So this is essentially self-protection?" he said.
"Pretty much," she replied.
"So how do you decide who gets which flavor?" Jack said, indicating the monochrome piles.
"It doesn't work like that. I'll divide them up, and then I'll distribute them back into mixed piles for each person, leaving out the offending flavor."
"You have way too much time on your hands," he said as he reached down to pick out a red one, only to have his hand slapped.
"Tell that to the king of the lab out there. Tell him I'm revoking his title today if he doesn't hurry it up."
"You can't revoke his title."
"Then you do it. Go be brilliant. Just don't interfere in my process."
She looked so serious and focused, he knew it was no use reasoning with her, explaining the complex sociology of the lab. She had enough of her own complex science to deal with, apparently, and it was adorable.
"Sort yourself my share of the orange ones, okay?" he said. "And give my grapes to Zack. He likes them."
"You're making this way too complicated," she said.
He just shook his head. "Says the woman who apparently did covert research about people's flavor preferences."
"It wasn't covert," Brennan said. "She just pays attention."
"I know she does," he said, smiling, then he leaned over to kiss her on the forehead.
But after he did, she caught his lab coat as he pulled away and slid her lips back over his, still sugary and still tasting very much of licorice. He let her open his mouth with her tongue, and he kissed her sloppily in return.
"Nice try," he murmured, kissing her on the cheek before he plucked a green jelly bean out of its pile and popped it in his mouth as he went toward the door. "But you can't convert me to your blasphemy."
"Oh, honey, you're the heretic to the true faith," she replied. She pulled her bundle of black jelly beans from her purse on the floor and placed one directly on her tongue.
He allowed himself a long look before he swept out the door and made a beeline for his workstation, looking for a way to dethrone Zack.
~