multiversallogs | » they’re in the wrong place trying to make it right

Who: Angela and Barbara
What: Trying to reconnect with many feels.
Where: Babs' House
When: Newdi evening
Warnings: None as of yet.

She's only been gone about a week, but it feels like it's been so much longer than just a few days for Angela. Coming back to a place like Baedal is always bittersweet. Angela was more than happy being back home, seeing her father, her friends, even the cafeteria lady at the Jeffersonian who always snuck her an extra piece of chocolate cake. Her memory of any alternate universe was gone, fuzzy at the very best. It felt like nothing more than just a forgotten vague dream if she even did manage to squeeze something from her mind.

Life was good.

But now she's back, standing on Barbara's doorstep, hesitating whether she should ring the doorbell, knock, or just turn around and walk away. So many things were left unsaid between them. It was a fast friendship, one Angela dearly needs now that Brennan has gone home herself. Will Babs want to see her? Angela doesn't know. She's seen how differently people respond to others leaving and coming back. Some are grateful to see their friends once more, others are angry, rightfully so, for abandoning them. It's a flip of the coin here and the quarter Angela would usually flip is the round black plastic button encased in gold plated metal right next to the front door.

It's a gamble. This ain't Vegas, but Angela takes chances. This woman gets things done and that includes pushing her finger against a doorbell.

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"I am." She smiles, a little relieved, and the tension held in her shoulder settles out a bit more. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

Angela makes a joke about it, but it's kind of disturbing how easily she comes back to places like this. Whenever she gets a little hope of going home and staying there, she's dragged right back into alternate dimensions. It's disheartening and it's no wonder she isn't the perky forever-hopeful person she used to me.

"I'm sorry, though," she apologizes. It's really not her fault that she left, but still, it feels right to say.

"No," she says softly. She feels guilty for being so happy about that - Angela has her own friends, her own home, her own life, just like all of them. That's what she'd kept telling herself - that she was happier, that it was better. That's what she'd kept hoping.

That's what steals her smile as she shuts the door. She's already shaking her head as she turns.

"Not your fault. I - " She's not sure how to say it, not exactly. "Even if you'd chosen to go home, I wouldn't blame you."

It's okay to be happy about your friends returning, Angela thinks, no, believes. Without them, this situation would be so much more darker than it already is. With friends comes family, with family comes support, loyalty, dedication. Something everybody needs in their lives.

"I would have said goodbye, first of all. Maybe throw some drinks at you." Maybe kiss you because you're the most beautiful person I've seen so far inside and out. There's a lot Angela would have done, but for various reasons, didn't, couldn't, and can't. She shrugs it off, though, still standing in the foyer like a stranger to this house. "I still feel terrible. Leaving like that so many times... I haven't kicked the habit of apologizing for it."

"Well, if it helps, you're forgiven." Looking up at her now, Barbara wonders if there's much she wouldn't forgive Angela for, let alone something completely out of her control.

"Consider that a guarantee, so you don't have to feel guilty if it happens again." The thought of it makes her chest go tight, but she has to accept the possibility. She could end up back home, too, or Steph, or any of them.

"Was it - how is everything, back home?"

"Yeah, no, I still would. And I ain't even Catholic." She laughs it off as it's a joke, but in all honesty, it's not. Angela just works this way. Her friends are her family and if she abandons them, she feels horrible about it for days, weeks even. People will just have to deal with that.

Angela shrugs. "You know, the usual. Death, mayhem, missing people, unidentified bodies. A regular Tuesday, really." She has to be flippant about it; if Angela's not, she'd cry. Hodgins is still tense with her, Zack is still in the mental asylum, they're all trying to get used to the rotating interns who will never take Zack's place... it's all the same as it was when she first left. Nothing has changed.

It's neither a good or bad thing at this point.

Barbara listens, the sympathy clear on her face; she knows that coping method intimately.

She reaches up to squeeze Angela's hand.

"They were lucky to have you." Her friends. The missing. The dead.

Then, softly, "And so am I."

The movement takes her a bit by surprise, knowing that it's her who is the more touchy-feely one of them. Angela looks down at their hands intertwined, and looks back up at bad, eyes watery at the corners and a laugh on her lips.

"You know, I was trying so hard not to cry and you just went and ruined it."

Barbara blinks rapidly, a choked laugh tumbling from her lips. "Well, you're already getting me back."

She's cried once in Baedal, come close a few more times. It's not something she does much. When she does, she prefers to do it alone.

As she squeezes Angela's hand, she marvels at the fact that she doesn't mind her seeing.

There's a big difference between them, personality-wise, and that Angela's never been afraid to cry in front of an audience. She just doesn't care about showing her weaknesses and what buttons people can push. She's human, she's allowed that much.

And as a matter of fact, before she even bothers to wipe her own tears away, Angela reaches out and runs her thumb over Babs' damp cheek, hand lingering for much longer than a teardrop. "I play dirty with revenge."

Barbara closes her eyes, then, just lightly; she's not hiding, she's relishing the moment, the touch. Her smile is enough evidence of that.

"Well, I can appreciate playing dirty," she murmurs, and there's a wicked sort of gleam in her eyes when she opens them.

That gleam is all the permission Angela needs to play extra dirty. Mudslinging, if you will. Her hand stays still on Barbara's cheek, gentle yet firm in holding her still, as Angela leans over and presses her lips against Barbara's in a quick, chaste kiss. She pulls back, just a little, waiting for a reaction on either side, but the look on Angela's face is a bit of youthful hope.

Her eyes go wide at the kiss, but she doesn't pull away from it; her lips part as Angela leaves them, and it's not simply from shock.

"...Um." Her tone is both confused and delighted. An almost giddy grin is curving her lips, and she doesn't try to stop it.

Grinning is a great response. Much better than a grimace or retching, really. Angela smiles back, brows raised in a very amused way as she cocks her head.

"Um? That's it? Geeze. I know I've been forcefully celibate for a while, but I was hoping I still knew how to kiss." Nothing like a little self-deprecating comedy to move things along.

Barbara chuckles as she raises a hand to lightly touch her lips.

"No, I think you're still pretty good."

She bites her lip behind her fingers. "Of course, everyone can use practice..." And her hand falls as she leans forward, almost tentatively.

» they’re in the wrong place trying to make it right

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