There was a persistent knock at the door. The door wasn't being banged off its hinges as if World War III was erupting outside so Brennan surmised it wasn't Booth and pulled out of her yoga position, annoyed. If it wasn't Booth, who the hell would come knocking on the door at nine on a Thursday night?

"Ange?" Angela was standing at the door, a bag slung over one arm, her skin more tanned than it was the last time Brennan had seen her; fleeing the alter of a wedding that didn't happen. The reception had been memorable, though.

"I'm back." Brennan was pulled into a sudden hug before being let go just as swiftly.

"So to get you up to speed… I mean, to let you know-." Ange smiled as Brennan swung the door wider, letting her in.

"I do know what that means, Ange. You're going to tell me what happened after you left your own wedding." Angela nodded and dropped her bag on the table.

"I know I rang you, but it was so much better than I said on the phone… Jack and I went travelling… Greece… Italy… Rome… Paris…" Her eyes faded as she was swept up in her own thoughts. Brennan grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and waited.

"Anyway, now it's a disaster." With the usual aplomb of the dramatic, Angela took drew Brennan's water bottle across the table and drank.

"What happened?"

"He helped me unpack. My clothes." When Brennan's face didn't immediately register disbelief, Angela sighed.

"We're meant to be having dinner at a fancy restaurant tonight, but I put the reservation back an hour because I have nothing to wear."

"Angela, you have a-."

"Mile-long wardrobe, I know." Angela waved away Brennan's incredulity.

"But Jack knows all of the clothes I own now. Every one. So I can't show up in something that'll knock his socks off because he's already seen it. And that's why I'm here." Angela smiled wider.

"You've got to have some dresses hidden away." Brennan rolled her eyes and motioned towards her room. Angela clapped her hands together like a child at the invitation.

"Great!" She preceded Brennan up the hallway and threw open the wardrobe doors.

"Now… Which section are the dresses in?"

"Section?" Brennan asked blankly. She was sitting cross legged on the bed. Angela pushed a few suits aside.

"Please, if we even move those tweezer things-."

"Forceps."

"Whatever. If they're an inch away from where they're meant to be, somebody gets the look of death." Angela turned to her best friend, who looked blank.

"You're so organised at work. What the hell happened?" Brennan shrugged.

"I don't need this to be organised. Most of what I wear is hanging at the front." Angela sighed and turned back to the task at hand; which was suddenly looking a lot harder than she thought. She'd had visions of a pristine wardrobe, clothes categorised by colour and style, shoes neatly arranged near the outfits they complemented. Unfortunately, Bren didn't take after Angela in her clothes management.

"And how long since you've cleaned out your clothes? Is this… Do I see snow pants?"

"People do die in the snow, Ange. I need them for work." Angela pulled out a hanging pair of pants that looked as if they were upsized marshmallows with cuffs.

"Please tell me you don't actually wear these." At Angela's tone, Brennan relented.

"Not since last winter." Angela tossed them aside and continued digging.

"So in Italy we hired a scooter and drove around for an entire day. We stopped every hour to eat. It was amazing." Angela's voice came from inside the wardrobe, her sentences punctuated by clothes being thrown over her shoulder.

"I've been to Italy." Brennan said, watching her clothes slowly building on the floor. "There was a stone coffin uncovered on what was unconsecrated ground. The remains dated back to the early fifteen hundreds. From the markings engraved into the stone next to her it was a Pagan burial. She was fifteen. Bone markings showed she died in childbirth." Angela's head came out of the wardrobe.

"Way to take the shine off my Italian memories, Bren. Thanks a lot." Before Brennan could reply, Angela was back, searching.

"Ooh, what's this?" Brennan could hear a zipper opening.

"What is it?"

"Where did you get this?" Angela pulled out the red dress and stood in front of Brennan, her eyes amazed.

"I… Got it in Vegas."

"This isn't the usual Vegas tackiness, either. Not a rhinestone in sight." Angela held it up in front of herself, looking down critically.

"I've worn red, though…" She sighed and laid the dress on the bed.

"There's a black dress in there." Brennan inclined her head towards the few clothes that were still hanging.

"Ooh, a little black dress?" Angela was back in, trying to uncover another dress bag. The sound of a zip signalled her success.

"God, Bren, this is gorgeous." She dropped the coat hanger and dress bag on her way to the bathroom.

"So when did you find time to go shopping in Vegas? I thought it was just work while you were there." Her voice floated through the open doorway.

"Uh, there was time. Actually, Booth bought it." Angela appeared at the bathroom door.

"Booth bought you a dress?" At Brennan's nod, Angela looked down.

"The man has got some serious style. But how do you zip it up on your own? I'm flexible, but I'm not a contortionist." Angela held her hair up as Brennan got off the bed and zipped the dress up.

"I don't know. Booth had to zip it up for me." Angela dropped her hair and admired herself in the mirror on the wall.

"Really? Booth zipped your dress up… In a motel room… In Vegas…" Angela nodded and Brennan frowned.

"Why does your tone suggest what you're saying is somewhat sordid?" Angela rolled her eyes and smoothed the dress over her hips.

"Never mind, Sweetie. Did Booth happen to buy shoes as well?" Brennan pulled out a drawer of shoes and picked a pair out. Angela sat on the bed to pull them on before she stood.

"Okay, the shoes I wear are high but these… These are suicide." She took a few experimental steps.

"How did you walk in these?" She demanded. Brennan shrugged, resuming her seat on the bed.

"I kind of… tottered. Leant on Booth. I didn't have to wear them for too long." Angela smiled to herself.

"Of course you didn't." Before Brennan could decipher her words, Angela caught a look at the clock on the bedside table.

"God, I'm late. I have to go." She swooped down to place a kiss on Bren's cheek.

"I missed you." Brennan watched her run awkwardly down the hallway, the high heels threatening to throw her asunder. There was brief noise in the kitchen as she grabbed her bag, then the front door was shut and there was sudden silence. Brennan looked at the pile of clothes on the floor of her bedroom.

"Yeah. Missed you too, Ange."

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I know… it's short, and fluffy, and not nearly as BB inclined as everyone was hoping, I'm sure. And not my best work. But it was written at 2am on an empty stomach so, please, some leeway.

Written in response to a challenge issued at a Bones forum.

Thanks for reading.