Disclaimer: I don't own these characters (they belong to Hart Hanson, Fox, etc), just the situation!

She walked down the darkened corridor, noting the only light glowing through Dr. Temperance Brennan's office. She sighed, picking up her pace as she headed to the office, Tempe shouldn't be at work yet, let alone staying late once again. She got to the door and leant against the door jamb, folding her arms across her chest and adopting her concerned but annoyed face. Angela gazed at her best friend, who was staring intently at her computer screen. The light from the screen highlighted her strong jaw, throwing light on the deep purple bruises that littered the doctor's face and neck. Immediately Angela softened her gaze at the look on her friends face. She had never seen Brennan look so dejected, "Hey sweetie" she called gently, taking a step into the room, "time to go home, okay."

Temperance Brennan looked up, her face immediately changing, trying to hide the wounded, vulnerable side from the raven haired artist, but Angela knew her better than anyone, and could see the pain through the closed off expression. Still, she said nothing, understanding that Tempe needed her walls to hide behind. Angela moved deeper into the office, willing this to be an easy battle tonight. Getting Brennan home could take up to half an hour, as the forensic anthropologist was such a stubborn work-a-holic; but tonight Angela was digging her heels in. Tempe needed rest, so she was going home.

Brennan watched her best friend stride purposely towards the coat rack, a determined look on her face. Tempe shrugged off the feeling of mild annoyance at someone else trying to dictate her schedule, and instead concentrated on the warm feeling in her chest at the thought that the dark haired woman cared about her so. They were complete opposites, Brennan a socially challenged genius with a stubborn nature and a logical head; Angela a lawdy artist, carefree and the ultimate social butterfly, ruled by her heart. But somehow their friendship worked, they complimented each other and Tempe Brennan thanked the gods (not that she believed in them) that Angela had taken the time to pursue the friendship, for now she would be lost without the tall, Eurasian woman who 

had created a hole in her carefully constructed walls. She sighed, for once an argument about work not on her lips, and turned to shut down her computer.

Angela raised her eyebrows at this passive Brennan, knowing she was still suffering in this one act. She picked up the slightly taller woman's coat and moved round the desk to help her put it on. She ran her hands down the other woman's arms lightly, conscious of the bruises under her touch. "You look tired Bren, did you even sleep last night?" she murmured, concern lacing her voice.

Brennan tried to be convincing in her answer, but Angela knew she was lying and tutted reprimandingly, linking arms with the anthropologist and pulling her towards the door. She flicked off the light and led her best friend out of the Jeffersonian and to her own car. Brennan frowned at the artist as she ushered her into the passenger side of Angela's car. "Angela, I don't need you to drive me home" she argued as the other woman shut the door and moved to the drivers seat.

As she slid into the car and buckled her seat belt she turned to face her friend. "Yes you do sweetie. And I need to take you home; so for the sake of less argument let's say that you are doing this as a favour for me. Okay Bren?"

Brennan smiled and nodded, allowing a yawn to overwhelm her. She settled into the chair, ignoring Angela's satisfied grin, allowing the heat and movement of the car to relax her for the first time in days.