Topic: Bones Role Play--let the fun begin!

Booth rolled his eyes. "Sorry, since you didn't say, I figured she was someone you dated after high school. So, why DID you keep her around so long?"

Hodgins considered this for a moment. *Good question . . . why DID I keep her around?*

"You know what? I'm not sure. She was hot. I mean, really, really hot. That was the extent of our relationship. She was hot, and I was smart. Ignorance is bliss." He chuckled. "You must've had your fair share of meaningless relationships, Mister-I'm-a-Hot-Jock-Who-Can-Quote-Shakespeare. Am I right?"

"Well, yeah, there were a few before I found out that looks alone isn't anything to base a relationship on. The hot ones never lasted long if that's all they had. I like a woman with brains and personality."

"Brains and personality, eh?" Hodgins said, smiling impishly.

He mentally added, *'Cuz that doesn't sound like anyone we know.*

Booth shot him a puzzled look. He didn't like the way he said that. "Yeah, looks are fine and all that, but without brains and personality, it makes for a pretty dull date. I like a woman who can hold her own in a conversation."

"I agree," Hodgins said. Then, feeling adventurous, he added, "Booth? Do you ever think you'll get married?"

"Yeah, sure, some day, when I meet the right woman," Booth replied, then his brow wrinkled in confusion. "Why do you ask?"

Hodgins shrugged casually. "No reason. I'm just curious."

They came to a stop at a light and Booth took the opportunity to study his passenger's face. He looked innocent enough, but his gut was telling him there was a subtext running that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"So . . .," Hodgins ventured, a bit uncomfortable with the sudden bout of awkward silence. "This case is a toughie, isn't it? I mean, it's a child and all. Kids are hard. They're so . . . young . . . and vulnerable. They had their lives ahead of them, and then . . . poof. Gone. Wiped from existence."

Booth's face turned grim. "Any murder is hard to take, but when it's a child...I can't help but think how I would feel if it was Parker..." he said, voice breaking on his son's name. He swallowed hard and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. "We're gonna catch the bastard that did this," he growled through clenched teeth.

"We will, Booth. We will," Hodgins agreed soberly. "I can't imagine how awful it would be to lose a kid. And then, what with your position and the all the horrors you see . . . I guess being a dad is pretty great, huh?"

Booth's face softened. "Yeah, it is. I wouldn't trade it for anything." He glanced at Hodgins again. "You and Angela want kids?"

Hodgins was a bit stunned by the question. It's not like he hadn't considered the possibility before--he had, many times, in fact--but he'd never voiced the possibility aloud.

"I do," he nearly whispered. "But, you know, we have our jobs and whatnot. And I guess it's difficult to even imagine what I'd be like as a Dad."

Booth smiled. "If you want kids, all the rest will work out," he said reassuringly. "They're worth any sacrifices you have to make, believe me. What does Angela think?"

Hodgins shrugged casually. "I don't really know. We haven't talked about it. Besides, we'd wait until we ironed out the whole husband from Fiji fiasco. We wouldn't want the child to be mixed in with that."

"Talking about it doesn't mean you have to have a kid right away. You better make sure you're both on the same page on the subject. I've seen couples break up over that kind of thing," Booth said.

A pained expression rumpled Hodgins's features. "Break up? No. Not Ange and I. But . . . I'll talk to her, anyway," he promised. "Just to be sure."

"Good idea. I can't imagine Angela not wanting kids," Booth said as he pulled into the parking structure. Cutting the engine, he smiled at Hodgins. "I think she's going to be a natural."

Hodgins nodded in total agreement, unable to erase the wistful smile curling his lips. "Yeah. She will."

He flung the door open and stepped out, slamming the it shut behind him. He nearly forgot his duffel bag filled with evidence.

"So . . .," he said awkwardly as he approached the sliding glass door. "I'll sort through all this . . .," he paused to gesture at his bag, ". . . and get back to you with my findings. Thanks for . . . everything."

Booth followed Hodgins into the lab. "Sure, any time." He paused just inside the glass doors. "I wonder if Bones has anything for me yet," he wondered aloud, heading for the platform. Swiping his card, he stepped up into her domain and looked around.

Pleased with the success of his day, Hodgins wandered over to his workstation to being sorting through the evidence.

((I won't describe the whole sorting process and whatnot--unless, of course, you all deem it to be necessary. Whenever the rest of the squints are ready for the results of Hodgins's studies, just holler! ))

Brennan looked up from the remains when she heard Booth coming up the steps to the platform. The nap and the pills had worked their magic and though she wasn't feeling hundred percent yet, she was feeling a lot better. She had also made some progress on the body.

((I'm sorry about the delay, you guys. I didn't mean to make you wait.))

"Hey, Bones, how's it comin'? Do we have a cause of death yet?" Booth asked.

"Booth," Brennan said, with a nod in greeting, before turning back to the body and answering him, "Yes, we have a cause of death. The victim was stabbed five times in his lower thoracic cavity with an object as yet unidentified. The weapon was, however, long enough to pierce the soft tissue; it was also hard enough to continue towards his liver after being deflected by the
vertebrochondrals. Cam is still waiting for the final tox reports, but her priliminary reports state that he died of massive internal bleeding and organ failure." She paused and turned back to look at Booth, "aside from those wounds, the victim was a perfectly healthy young boy. There's nothing out of the ordinary, excpet for a two year old break to his left ulna."