Under A Cloud

Author - Sunnycouger

Rating - M - there's some mature content towards the end. It's mild M, but a M nonetheless.

Disclaimer - Bones doesn't belong to me, because if it did we would already have Hodgela babies, Zach and Cam would be having a passionate, affair and Brennan and Booth would be cashing in three seasons worth of sparkies, at least once. As it is, Hodgela is rolling along pretty nicely, Zach and Cam will have to remain a figment of my imagination and BB will be dining at URSTville for the foreseeable. There really is no point suing me, I own nothing bar a laptop and a cat. As the laptop is old, and the cat does nothing but eat and sleep, I'm not sure it would be worth your while.

Summary - She always thought it was obvious how she felt, why then did he have to ask her if she loved him? Set after 2.19 - Spaceman in a Crater.

Author's Notes - I like "un-seen" scenes fic which is one of the reasons I wrote this. I love Angela and Hodgins (obviously) and I wondered what would happen when they went home after she had turned down his proposal in the restaurant. Angela not really being able to say she loves him (despite obviously feeling it) and her worry that he was going to leave her in the restaurant got me thinking. This is an M rated fic - it's mild though and only in because it's just the way the story went. I'm not a very good smut writer, so it's probably best to be happy that it's brief. All thoughts and opinions are welcome.

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What you don't know,
Is that I love you.
What you don't know,
Is how much I care.
And what you don't see,
Are my dreams about you.
I dream about you,
I dream about you.
But I'm afraid to let you in,
And I'm afraid to let you know,
Yes, I'm afraid to let my love show.
-Katie Reider - What You Don't Know-

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The rain could be heard against the bedroom window, and although it wasn't loud it seemed to play through her head as she lay in the bed. She took a glance at the clock, and it confirmed that it was far too early to get up, and far too late to have not slept yet, but there she was - tired but unable to sleep, restless, but reluctant to leave the warmth of the bed she was laying in. The rain dripped down and she went over the events that were keeping her awake - he had asked her if she loved him. At the time she had no idea why he would doubt it and assured him that she did, but laying back on the bed as he slept beside her the question was playing over, and over and over again in her head.

Angela Montenegro was considered many things - open, friendly, optimistic, fun-loving but until tonight she had never considered that she was a mystery to him. Perhaps to other people, but not to him. She glanced down at the sleeping figure of Jack Hodgins, the man she loved, the man she wanted to marry someday, and wondered why he would ever doubt the way she felt about him. Maybe at first, yes - she had made him work for the relationship before she would agree to go out with him and even when they were falling over the tension in the air between them in the lab, she kept him at arms length just in case this happened. In case she fell too deep. Her good intentions didn't exactly last very long - countless assurances from Cam and Brennan had said 'don't worry, it's fine, nothing will happen' and had proven to her why she never went to the scientists at work for advice on anything personal. Smart they may be but perceptive? Not so much.

She, on the other hand had always known that he would be a hard guy not to fall for - probably because they were at once both similar and different in all the complimentary areas. It was almost scary the way they balanced each other out sometimes - him with his mad, cynical, paranoid conspiracy theories, her with her airy, romantic, whimsical fancies. You would think it wouldn't work out, but she always had her suspicions that it would work and that was why she had put him off when it came to the date. God knows she had never played hard to get when she liked a guy before, and she certainly had never been shy about making her feelings known to someone she was interested in, but there was something about him that had thrown her completely off her game.

The reason was partly down to the fact that they were so close beforehand and she worried about what it would do to their friendship if it went wrong. She had cared too much for that to want to risk it on what may have simply been some little flirtation that would have ended after a couple of weeks. Mostly though it was because her stomach did little flips when he had smiled at her and she knew that wasn't a good sign if it was destined to merely be some little flirtation that amounted to nothing. No, all the signs said that this would be a relationship that would be far more serious than they would ever intend it to be and that is why she played it safe, and shouldn't have been surprised by how it ended up, contrary to what Brennan and Cam thought.

She brought a hand up and ghosted a touch over his bare arm and smiled as he sighed contentedly. She didn't think she would ever tire of watching the way his body reacted to her, and she knew with complete certainty that she would never tire of the way her body reacted to even being close to him. His voice alone left her giddy at times, and she felt herself blush when she thought of the way she reacted to his touch, never mind anything else...

As the soft tapping of the rain on the window continued, she quietly got out the bed, careful not to disturb him and, after grabbing a throw off the chair, bent over and kissed his bearded cheek softly. After making certain that she hadn't woken him she slowly made her way to the end of the room towards the large doors that led to the balcony. She shivered as she pushed the door open and stepped out onto the stone paving and into the cold and rainy night air. She clutched the throw closer to her, but felt her bare knees knocking together as she closed the door behind her.

She had been out here many times, and even on nights like this where the sky was overcast with rain clouds and you couldn't see the stars, it was still one of her favourite places of Jack's home. She had spent hours out here in the past, she'd sketched the landscape, and the pond, and she'd just lain out here with him at times, enjoying the feel of his arms around her as she watched the stars streak along the sky. She smiled as she walked over to the edge and looked down, the rain battering the back of her head and neck, making her spine tingle at the sensation and causing her to smile.

Although she was always happy in the sun, or the snow, the rain had always been good for her. It seemed to focus her thoughts and emotions and as a result, she always painted better when it was wet outside. She felt more - everything seemed heightened, more intense, more real and she was generally much sharper in everything because of it. She knew most people would think that was crazy, and maybe it was, but it was something she believed. She really loved the rain. She could even say it - she loved the rain, even more than she loved this stupid balcony, on this stupidly oversized house which overlooking stunning landscape, that she also loved. Why then, when she could express her love for such inanimate, unfeeling things, could she be struck mute when it came to telling the most important person in her life that she loved him? How could it be possible that someone so naturally open would make it necessary for the man she was breathing for to question her feelings for him?

She stepped back from the balcony edge and headed over towards the bench sitting further along. As she sat down she shrugged the throw off and tilted her head back and let the rain fall over her face. The shirt she was wearing was soaked through and she could feel her chin begin to tremble with the cold, yet she made no move to cover herself or head back in. People generally didn't die of a cold afterall, and she knew that because she had seen it on one of those stupid science shows that Hodgins and Zach watched. They watched those sort of shows so they could heckle the "scientists" for their stupidity, and to get ideas for experiments they could try and she knew that they had written dozens of letters suggesting experiments to take place in the hope that they could heckle them some more.

She laughed out loud then. She knew of his most stupid little quirks and idiosyncrasies and still he didn't quite grasp it. What, did he think she watched the shows with him for fun? She had enough science at work. Did he think it turned her on? Because he had to know that, for the most part, watching grown men blow stuff up wasn't really her thing. She didn't need to know this stuff about him, yet she wanted to know it. She wanted to take an interest in his work, that was how she had been able to help in the Bancroft case afterall. That had to show him something, right?

She brought a shaking hand up and wiped the moisture from her eyes and was amazed to feel warm tears mixed with the coolness of the rain water. What was wrong with her?

Angela shivered and accepted defeat and brought the throw back up to her shoulders. It was soaked, and it was heavy, but it provided a little warmth and she realised that if she went in the room like this she would definitely wake him as the drips onto the wooden floor wouldn't exactly aid stealthness. She rolled her eyes. Stepping out, more undressed than dressed, into the middle of a rainstorm was perhaps not one of her smarter ideas, and she began to think about going in, cuddling up next to his warm body and trying to ignore all the thoughts that were invading her brain. She thought about doing it, but didn't even attempt to move. She knew she hadclear her head before she went in and it was easier to think out here.

She wiped her face again and she stared ahead of her and began to wonder if Clarissa had liked it out here. If maybe, one day, nine or ten years ago, before they had split up, if she had been sat here, looking out over the same grounds. She wondered if he had ever asked Clarissa if she loved him?

As her mind went places she had no desire for it to go she quickly shook her head. That line of thought was ridiculous and childish and had no relevance to anything. She was not that person regardless of how fair the point may have been. The pair of them had been in love with other people before, it wasn't exactly news, but clearly there was something there with Angela that made him unsure of her feelings. Perhaps it was down to the fact that Clarissa had left him for another man and he was still insecure? She couldn't imagine that he would ever fear that happening again because he had to know that he was it for her. Clarissa may have been an idiot, but Angela wasn't. She knew what she had, she couldn't even contemplate looking elsewhere.

If it wasn't his own insecurity though, then she really didn't know what else it could be. She had met Clarissa briefly at the trial and although she naturally hadn't spoken to her that much, she couldn't say that there was any clear edge that Clarissa had given over in terms of being so much more developed emotionally than Angela was. Perhaps it was the life of privilege growing up, but socially repressed seemed accurate to describe Clarissa's cool detachment any time they had spoken. If he wasn't confused about her feelings, then how could he be confused about Angela's? If anything, she reasoned, she was definitely much more...open. Open was good, people could understand open. Well, most people could understand open - evidently not everyone or this wouldn't be a problem.

She sighed, maybe it wasn't so much her problem but his. Maybe he just didn't understand the signs. Maybe he'd spent so much time peering at slides under a microscope that he had lost the ability to read people...

She clutched the throw closer to her and turned her head back up to the sky overhead. That was probably it - he was a man of science. Speculation and assumptions weren't in his nature, he wanted facts and confirmation of his findings so that was why he probably needed to hear it. Which was why it seemed so ridiculous that she couldn't just make it clear to him.

It was easy for her to assume that he had to be know the way she felt about him. It felt so big to her than she was sometimes convinced that everyone must be aware, like she had it branded on her forehead. She had never felt that way before even though she had been involved in a lot of relationships so had plenty points of reference to compare it with. The closest she had got to it was Kirk, and that was for a grand total of fifteen weeks over five years.

She had loved him, she had, but it was different. With Kirk three weeks a year were enough - she could get by on that. With Jack though, the thought of not seeing him for days, let alone months at a time made her feel ill. If the prospect of not being able to see or touch him for two weeks made her feel physically nauseous she knew there was a zero percent chance of her lasting eleven months without him. That was scary for her, that was unknown territory. She had never had that in a relationship, ever. She was self sufficient, self reliant...selfish. She knew how to look after herself, how to have fun, how to live and how to protect herself from the damage men did to women's hearts. She knew how to survive during the dating game, or at least she used to. Now though he had completely wrecked her normal game plan - arm's length, not too close, not too invested, not too hopeful for more, just fun, sex, fun, a little more sex and then bye-bye. Nothing too serious, nothing too permanent, nothing to worry about.

She should have been pissed at that, but the emotional damage had already been done before she could even grasp that it had happened and, before she knew it, she was already invested in the relationship. Too invested in it to back out and play the usual game plan, and as a result she was far too invested in him. It hurt that he couldn't see that with or without the words to back it up. Surely actions and feelings were worth more than that?

It wasn't even like the words made it true. She had lost count of the number of times she had heard, or seen people use those words as a means to an end. "I love you," was a bargaining chip a lot of the time. It was a method of getting someone into bed, or to get them to agree to something - empty words for empty intentions. Words didn't make anything real - it was the feeling behind them and she had never given him any reason to doubt that.

The frustrating thing was that she had nearly said it to him at least a dozen times in the past. When he was saved from the Grave Digger she had nearly said it first when he came out of the ground, and then that night when he lay sleeping in her bed beside her. But she hadn't. Again when she went to stay at his house after a difficult case she almost said it again - but somehow 'Jack, I love you' became, 'Jack, I love your replica of Delacroix that is hanging on the landing,' and so on until she had loved the way he says 'smelting' and loved his car, or loved the shirt he's wearing and half a dozen other things until she was almost slapping her own head every time it happened. It just seemed that every time she nearly said it, something inside made her stop. An internal safety valve - the last remnants of her survival instinct that seemed to say 'if you give him everything, when he leaves you'll be left with nothing.' If she said she loved him, she wouldn't be able to dismiss it as a casual thing, she wouldn't have the luxury of claiming an infatuation, she wouldn't even have the shield of pretending that it had just been a temporary thing. If she said she loved him then it meant more than that, and although she already knew it was more than that and she knew that he wouldn't leave, she couldn't stop the little voice in her head that demanded she hold back, just a little to protect herself. It was that little voice that made her think he was going to ditch her at the restaurant tonight. Even though she knew he would never do that to her like, in that moment it didn't only seem possible, but maybe even probably that he was going to say goodbye.

She knew that wasn't rational, the same way sitting out in the pouring rain, in the middle of the night because she was scared to wake her boyfriend and ask him why he doubted her feelings towards him wasn't rational, yet here she was. Maybe that was the problem with this whole thing - maybe it wasn't his insecurities over what happened with Clarissa, or his inability to assess anything that couldn't be analysed under a microscope - maybe it was her. Maybe, despite the fact that she loved him and she did all the right things, and showed him that was the case, maybe he was picking up on the fact that she was holding back, even a little. Maybe that's what prevented him from seeing it.

She sighed and closed her eyes to try and hide her scowl. She hadn't wanted to get so psychological about the whole thing. Brennan would think it was ridiculous to be analysing herself like that. Stupid rain, making her too introspective.

"Angela? What are you doing out here?"

She opened her eyes at the sound of his voice. Busted. So much for not waking him. She tried to hide her embarrassment as she smiled over to him, but couldn't stop her teeth chattering as she did it. "Just thinking. What are you doing up?"

"I was wondering where you were and, since it was raining and you have this arty thing about it, this seemed the best bet as to where you would be," he said as he walked towards her. "How long have you been out here? You're soaking, and freezing."

She shrugged her shoulders as she let him guide her up towards the door as he rubbed her arms. She looked at him, concern was etched across his face as he watched her intently.

"What's wrong? Why are you out here?"

She shook her head, it seemed so stupid now. "It's nothing, really."

"Angela," he began, his voice stern. "It's after 3am, it's cold, we're in the middle of a rainstorm and you are drenched through to the bone. Don't tell me it's nothing, you aren't that good of a liar."

"It took us two million years of evolution to develop skin that was waterproof," she whispered as she looked at him. "Why did you ask if I loved you?"

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Tonight. Why did you ask if I loved you? Was it just because I said no or is it something else? Something that I'm doing wrong? Or acting wrong or something..." The first question came out before she could stop her mouth from asking it, and the follow up wasn't much better and although she wanted to know, she didn't want to make a big deal out of it.

He squinted at her in confusion and his arms dropped to his sides as he took a second to try and work out what she was talking about. She could have smiled as the rain stuck his curly hair to his head. "You doing something wrong? No. No. I...I don't know why I asked it was just...you never say it. I guess...I don't know, I guess I just wanted to be sure."

She nodded her head and brought her hand up to his cheek, her lips still trembling with the cold. "I want to say it. Everyday, I want to say it. I want you to know that. I don't know why I can't. I feel it though, even though I don't say it. I need you to know that."

She hoped that her voice didn't sound as desperate as she felt. It felt important to make it clear to him, to ensure that he understood completely even though she wasn't certain herself.

He took a step closer to her, and brought his hands up to either side of her head and brushed his fingers through her soaked hair. "I do know that."

She nodded before shivering with the cold. "I want to marry you as well. I do, I just...I can't say yes just now. It's not because I don't want to - I just need it to be right."

He laughed as he brought his forehead over towards hers. "I know that as well. You didn't need to half drown yourself on the balcony to tell me this."

She pulled back and looked at him, her eyes stinging. "I love the rain. I love this balcony," she whispered before dropping her gaze towards the rain puddles at her bare feet, suddenly feeling utterly exposed as she continued. "I love you. Even though you don't always know it, I do. More than anything."

He was silent and for a second she wondered if he had even heard her, before she started to imagine that he had heard her and all that might happen because of it. He might run, he might leave her, then what will happen... She started to raise her eyes, needing to see what he was thinking only to find that he had began raising her chin upwards until her gaze rested on his.

At that moment the rain, the cold, her own insecurities were forgotten and all she could comprehend was how blue his eyes really were, how loud her heart was pounding in her chest and how she really had to concentrate on her legs because she wasn't sure they would be able to keep her standing up right for much longer. The intensity of his gaze seemed to freeze the moment, everything around them seemed to stop - the rain, the cold, time, everything except the two of them seemed like a complete irrelevance. As they stood there, eyes locked, she wondered if she would ever be able to breathe again as the air in her lungs seemed to have burned away.

She watched as he tried to speak, before shaking his head with a grin before deciding that words weren't really necessary as he reached over and crashed his lips against hers. The feel of his lips on hers seemed to start time again, and strengthen her as she returned his kiss hungrily and allowed the throw to drop from her shoulders onto the ground behind her. She reached behind him and put one hand into his tousled hair in order to deepen the kiss and used the other to grasp onto his back as he clumsily worked her back towards the door and into the room. She had no idea how they didn't break their necks as they stumbled into the room, and although she was sure she would have the bruises from bumping into walls and doors to show for it in the morning, she really couldn't have cared less. Every part of her body ached for him, and the parts he touched seemed to burn under the slightest contact. She gasped as his warm hands found their way under the shirt she was wearing and onto the cold skin of her side and moaned in pleasure as he kissed the sensitive skin of her neck, nipping it with his teeth as his hands moved their way up her body, stroking, rubbing, teasing her. She pulled back in frustration at the shirt he was wearing that was hindering her own exploration of his body and grabbed the hem before helping him yank it over his head. As his top was tossed somewhere, anywhere behind him she took a step closer to him and kissed his now naked chest as she ran her splayed hand round his back and below the band of his pants. He looked at her dangerously as he manoeuvred her over to the bed and she happily complied. She grabbed him by the waistband and pulled him down on the bed beside her allowing his mouth to roam after his hands - down her neck, over her breasts, down her abdomen...

The little clothes they were wearing were hastily discarded and she knew that more than one item would have been damaged beyond repair because of their haste to just feel complete contact with each other. She could barely breathe, thinking was impossible and all she knew was that at that moment, she just needed him as much as he needed her and she grabbed his chin to bring his attention upwards as she kissed him and pulled him as close as she could. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him down towards her and he happily obliged as he braced himself above her. Their eyes were locked and she wondered if her face mirrored the utter desire that was painted on his at that moment. She reached up and kissed him as deeply as she could, trying to let him understand how she felt, how she would always feel about him. As she pulled back, their eyes still locked she couldn't help but smile as he seemed to silently acknowledge what she was trying to tell him. As he thrust into her all she could think of was that this is what was real. This feeling - this dependency on another human being in order to even breathe. She loved him, and he loved her - it was that simple and that complicated. Whether she was scared or not, whether he was insecure or not, that simple fact wasn't going to change. He wasn't leaving her, and she wasn't going to betray him - this was it. For keeps, regardless of whether she put the ring on her finger tomorrow or ten years from now, this was it for them. As she screamed his name out she snaked her hands up and dug her nails into his shoulder, holding on for dear life until both felt the release.

As they lay down she tried to force air into her lungs and, for a few moments neither of them said anything, they just lay there. She lay against him, enjoying listening to the way his heart was beating and feeling completely at ease for the first time since dinner. She didn't want to think about what state her soaking wet hair was looking, and she certainly didn't want to imagine what like she looked when she told him that she loved him. Women and rain didn't mix unless you were Keira Knightley or some other perfect specimen and she made a mental note to save any future emotional declarations until she didn't look like a deranged lunatic. She smiled against his chest, she doubted that he would have minded anyway, but the story would have sounded better if she had been a little less flaky. She decided she didn't care either way and moved in closer towards him and he brought a hand up and began stroking her bare arm, she sighed happily. None of that other stuff really mattered...

It was then that she glanced up and noticed that he was now looking at her with a strange expression on his face as he reached over and took her hand in his.

She squinted an eye at him and tried to keep the smile off her face as she spoke. "What's the matter?"

"On the balcony before..." he grinned as he got up on an elbow and looked down at her, mischief dancing across his face. "I just meant to say I love you too."

"Actions speak louder than words, so I'll let you off with it. Just this once," she giggled as she reached up and pulled him down for a slow kiss, happy that the night had happened the way it had. She knew she loved the rain for a reason.

-The End-