A/N: So this is my first ever entry for the Booth Express Challenge on lj, and was inspired in part by the "Squint Great Escape" aspect of this month's CBPC too. I know most people prefer BB to Hodgela, but please just give it a shot - there is a smidge of BB involved somewhere. Rated a strong T for (surprise, surprise) sexual references.

Edit: I've apparently lost the ability to write a oneshot that's actually short. Sorry for the length.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones.

Desperate Times

"Oh my god, we're going to die."

"Angela..."

"We could be dying right now." She looked at him, panicked. "Do I look dead? Tell me there aren't pustules, or sores, or blotches, or-"

"Angela..."

"What if it's something you can't see? What if some chemical has seeped into the bone and is now making it squishy or turning it purple or doing something else that's un-bone-like?"

"Angela..."

"What if it's a disease like in that movie that we watched last night with the zombies and the eating? I swear to God, Jack, if you try to eat me-"

"Angela!" She stopped pacing, surprised by his shout, and he grasped her shoulders firmly, keeping his voice low and calming, "We are not diseased, we are not dying, our bones are as crunchy and bone-like as ever, and the only eating of you I will be doing will be the fun kind."

Reassured either by the lack of disease or the promise of the fun kind of eating, Angela let out a long breath, meeting her fiancé's eyes and asking demandingly, "If there's no disease, why did the doors lock? Because last time we got locked in a lab, bad things happened. And by bad things, I mean needles in places where needles really shouldn't be."

Wincing at the memory, Hodgins shook his head firmly, "It's not because of a disease. The chemical research equipment here is worth a fortune, so this lab automatically goes into shutdown when someone unauthorized comes inside."

The artist folded her arms across her chest, offended, "I'm unauthorized?!"

Catching the note of indignation in her voice, Hodgins just grinned, saying patronisingly, "I did tell you to wait outside..."

She arched one perfectly-plucked eyebrow. "Okay, it's Valentine's Day and you seriously expected me to wait outside while you went to play with test-tubes instead of taking me out to dinner?"

"No, I expected you to wait outside for two minutes while I removed the test-tubes so they wouldn't heat up and blow up the lab." Seeing the glare on Angela's face, he conceded, "Guess I should've known better, huh?"

She nodded miserably, and he kissed his slowly on the lips by way of an apology, his hands resting at her waist and brushing the smooth, silky fabric of her deep red cocktail dress. Pulling away, he was relieved to see that the familiar sparkle was back in her eyes as she asked with a half smile, "So what do we do now? Call the security guards and get them to let us out?" Hodgins' eyes widened in realisation and Angela's promptly narrowed as she asked suspiciously, "Oh God, what did you do?"

Opening his mouth to protest and then thinking better of it, Hodgins admitted sheepishly, "There's a policy..."

"A policy?" Angela repeated, her tone laced with warning. "A 'let's open the doors right now' type of policy or a 'release the hounds' type of policy?"

"A Valentine's Day policy," Hodgins replied miserably. "The Cantilever group has a policy to run a skeleton crew on Valentine's Day just like they do at Christmas and on National Holidays so that people can spend time with their loved ones."

Angela visibly softened. "That's just..." She sighed. "I don't know whether to hug you or slap you."

"Hug?" Hodgins ventured hopefully before falling silent as her hands returned to her hips in annoyance.

"So we're stuck here," she stated matter-of-factly. "The skeleton crew's stretched thin, so we're here till everyone else comes in tomorrow?"

He nodded miserably. "Yep. Unless you've got any Houdini in your genes, we're in here till morning."

He moved to sit down on one of the sterile white work-surfaces, but was stopped by the slow smile spreading across his fiancée's face and the twinkle in her eye which he recognised as her 'This is going to sound so great in theory' gleam. Almost amused at the prospect of yet another Angela-brainwave, he asked with a smirk, "What are you thinking of?"

"We escape," she said simply, beaming.

"Uh-huh." He looked around. "I hate to break this to you, Ange, but this place is kinda sealed tight. Like Bastille-tight."

"So let's pull a Marie Antoinette," she replied, unphased.

"Actually, Marie Antoinette never-" He stopped, realising that the French-sounding name rather than the historical inaccuracy was the important factor in her reasoning. Deciding to humor her, he slid off the counter, surveying the unfamiliar chemistry lab again. "Okay, so what's your plan?"

Apparently the artist hadn't quite got to the plan stage yet, but she hid it well. "We must be able to figure something out. I mean, we catch bad guys, identify people from shattered skulls and know everything there is to know about bugs, slime and particulates. How hard can getting out of a lab be?"

Smiling at her ceaseless optimism, Jack pointed out helpfully, "You could always draw a train tunnel on the wall like they do in cartoons."

She rolled her eyes, smirking. "Yeah, and get flattened by a train in the process. Can't you just find some dir- particulates that'll tell us how to get out?"

He just blinked at her before saying sarcastically, "Yes, because there are so many insects and particulates in this completely sterile working environment." Angela frowned at his pessimism and Hodgins moved over to her, resting his hands on her hips as he said in a pacifying manner, "Face it, Ange; our talents aren't exactly suited to escapology."

Instead of the defeated sigh he was expecting, Angela's face brightened again, this time with her 'This idea is not even going to sound good in theory, let alone in practice' grin. "So let's not use our own talents," she suggested, eyes lighting up at the idea.

Hodgins was lost. "Huh?"

Her fingers moved to straighten the lapels of his dinner jacket as she explained slowly, "If we can't get out of here as an entomologist and a forensic artist, then we'll just have to pretend to be other people who can get out of here."

A light went on in his brain and a matching grin spread across his own face as he asked in disbelief, "Role playing?"

She shrugged, giving him a knowing grin, "Desperate times..."

"Call for desperate measures," Hodgins finished, moving in to plant a soft kiss on her lips. "Did I mention that I love you?"

Smiling, Angela replied teasingly, "It might have come up."

"Well, allow me to bring it up again."

Her smile became mischievous. "I don't think that's really encouraged in a chemical research laboratory."

Hodgins chuckled, catching her meaning and responding in kind, "But apparently it's condoned in exhibit storage, the janitor's closet, the men's room, the women's room, Dr Brennan's office and the reading library?"

"And the photocopying room," she added, almost proudly, before returning her attention to the matter at hand. "But I do not want the chemical researchers including my DNA in one of their experiments and accidentally creating some mutant crab."

"Mutant crab?" he repeated with a grin, remembering his girlfriend's hatred for all things crustacean after an unfortunate incident with a toy version of Sebastian from the Little Mermaid, whose claws were apparently sharper than they looked.

Giving him a shudder in response, Angela turned her attention back to the role playing suggestion, wondering out loud, "Who would be able to get out of this lab?"

"Lassie!" Hodgins answered a little too triumphantly, lowering his eyes at her raised eyebrows. "A dog wasn't quite what you had in mind, was it?" Taking her silence as a 'You think?', he tried again, "Harry Potter? We could magic our way out of here?"

Amused by his efforts, Angela leaned back against a work-station with a smile, "I'm going to ignore the fact that neither of us can do magic-" Hodgins opened his mouth, but she cut him off, "And if you say anything about having a magic wand, I may have to completely rethink my opinion of you." Foiled, the entomologist fell silent as she continued, "Anyway, ignoring our lack of magic, how is it that when the word role play comes up, you suggest a) a dog and b) a teenage boy?" She looked at him with mock concern. "Should I be getting you therapy?"

"Funny," he replied sarcastically, a smile tugging at his lips anyway as he stood next to her. "Who would you want to be?"

The artist contemplated for a moment, and Hodgins couldn't help but wish he was privy to her thought processes. Eventually she reached a conclusion, "If it was going to be someone magical, I'd have chosen Morticia Addams."

He frowned in confusion. "How would that help us get out of here?"

"Oh, it wouldn't," she replied cheerfully. "But I'd look really good in that long black dress."

Smiling at her priorities, he inquired, "Who would I be? Uncle Fester?"

"No, you'd be Gomez Addams," she informed him as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Only without the mustache."

Suddenly conscious of his own facial hair, he asked in a slightly more high-pitched voice than he would've liked, "What's wrong with the mustache? Do you not like-"

"No. No!" she reassured hurriedly, running her hand down his cheek. "You look great. It's just mustaches I don't like. You only see them on porn stars and bad guys."

Breathing a small sigh of relief, he moved on, "Okay, so the Addams family are out. How about superheroes? We could be Batman and Robin?"

"Sweetie, they're both guys," Angela informed him patiently, wondering if he'd grasped the gist of the whole role play scenario yet. Hodgins looked contrite, and she couldn't resist teasing, "Do you want to reconsider, or should I be asking some serious questions about our future together?"

Shaking his head with a smile, Hodgins amended, "Fine, Batman and Wonderwoman then."

She moved round in front of him, studying him intently before declaring, "I think you'd make a great Batman."

"Yeah?" he asked, standing up a little straighter in an unconscious effort to appear more superheroey.

"Oh yeah," she affirmed in a voice that was practically a purr.

Ego suitably stroked, Hodgins kissed her contentedly on the lips before returning the compliment, "You'd make a great Wonderwoman too."

To his surprise, Angela shrugged it off, saying amiably, "I think Bren's pretty much got the monopoly on all Wonderwoman fantasies after last Halloween."

Unsure of the correct response, Hodgins went with the traditional, "You'd look way better than she did."

However, Angela Montenegro was anything but traditional. "Are you kidding? She looked awesome. I have no idea how her breasts managed to stay in that thing, but she looked incredible."

"I- She- You-" Taking a deep breath, Hodgins focused on the part of her statement that had caught his attention, "You were looking at Brennan's...?"

"Breasts?" she filled in with a grin. "Yep. Kinda hard to miss them."

Pondering the unfairness of a world where women were allowed to ogle each other's breasts without informing him, Hodgins tried again with the 'Your friend looked really hot, but I still love you' reassurance, "I still think you'd look amazing in the Wonderwoman costume." He leaned in, saying suggestively, "Or, y'know, not in the Wonderwoman costume."

Expecting an equally suggestive comeback, he was taken aback for what felt like the dozenth time that evening as Angela seemed to have a visible epiphany. "That's who we need to pretend to be to get out of here!"

Confused, he hazarded a guess, "Nudists?"

"Bren and Booth!"

Thinking nudists was a more sane suggestion, he questioned, "You want us to role play as our friends? I've heard of cop-and-robber, Ange, but this is a little creepy."

Sighing, she explained, words coming out a mile a minute, "We need to get out of here, right? And Booth and Bren always seem to be able to get out of anything without any trouble. They'd probably know what to do if they were here now, and since we can't call them because our cell phones are in your car, we're just going to have to guess how they would think." Her logical explanation was followed by a brilliant smile and a wiggle of the eyebrows, "The cop aspect is just a happy bonus."

Not entirely convinced, but not up to arguing with her, Hodgins sighed in agreement, "Fine. You do the Dr Brennan thinking while I go be Booth and try to break down the doors."

She raised her eyebrows. "He's an FBI Agent, Jack, not the Incredible Hulk."

Pouting slightly at having his door-breaking attempts taken away from him, Hodgins gestured to his girlfriend, "Okay, you come up with a plan then. What would Dr Temperance Brennan do if she was stuck here with Booth?"

"Have loud obnoxious sex on the table," Angela answered decisively. Hodgins stared at her and she defended, "Well, she'd definitely be thinking about it."

Simultaneously turned on at the prospect of table-sex and worried by the fact that a mention of his colleagues having sex had led to him being turned on, he hinted, "You know, that suggestion might not be so bad after all..."

"Bren and Booth having sex? Tell me about it. I've been trying to convince her for years, but will she roll-over-lay-down-"

Attributing her ability to slip Status Quo lyrics into everyday speech as a side effect of her classic-rock upbringing, Hodgins interrupted awkwardly, "I didn't mean Brennan and Booth, I meant..." he gestured to the pair of them in their current impersonations, "'Brennan' and 'Booth'."

"Oh." A cat-that-got-the-cream grin spread across her face as he moved closer to her. "Oh..."

Pulling her close to her, Hodgins met her eyes and said pointedly, "Y'know, I think 'Brennan' and 'Booth' might enjoy having sex in the storage closet even more than out here."

Trying and failing to keep a straight face, Angela nodded with as much sincerity as she could muster, "I think that would be incredibly anthropologically interesting."

Smirking, he pushed, "Oh really?"

Her hand slowly brushed the front of his pants and she corrected, "Anatomically interesting too."

Hodgins grinned. "Well, in that case..."

He leaned in to kiss her and Angela's eyes drifted shut, relaxing in his arms. However, instead of receiving a kiss, she let out a surprised squeal as Hodgins/Booth hoisted her over his shoulder with a growl of effort before proceeding to carry her to the small closet on the other side of the lab, her high-heeled feet flailing as she laughed.

Her laughter was abruptly replaced by a yelp of pain, however, when she tried to wiggle her way off his shoulder, smacking her head against the ceiling with a clank. "Ow..."

Lowering her to the floor, Hodgins eyed her carefully, eyes wide with concern as he asked, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, wincing. "I'm fine, I just-" Glancing up, her mouth curved into a triumphant grin, "I just found us a way out."

Following her gaze, Hodgins took in the dislodged metal cover which was clearly the entrance to some kind of ventilation system and shook his head at the victorious artist, "I'm fairly certain that when Brennan 'uses her head', it's not as a battering ram."

Angela crossed her arms over her chest in mock offense. "Hey, you were the one doing the ramming. I was just the ram-ee."

Jack shuddered. "I do not want to picture the circumstances that would let Brennan say that to Booth."

"And that's the difference between us, Jack," she said with a pitying sigh. "I would want a full and complete account of those circumstances. Now, let's get out of here and we might get to our reservation in time for dessert. Can you give me a leg up?"

Always happy to be in a situation involving Angela's legs, he nodded, lacing his hands together and preparing to push her up, "Ready when you are."

After a couple of wobbly lifts, a difficult dragging process and a brief debate about which way was out, they both finally made it up into the wide silver air conditioning shaft and began to crawl along the tunnel, Angela in front with her red dress pulled up high to facilitate the crawling process while Jack followed behind, thoroughly enjoying the view.

As they turned another corner, he couldn't help letting out a low whistle as Angela's dress rode a little higher. "Dr Brennan, did you forget your panties this evening?"

Almost lying down, Angela turned to face him, an innocent smile on her face as she said knowingly, "I didn't want to get panty-lines, and not wearing panties was the only logical way to accomplish that."

Playing along, he crawled further in the cramped conditions of the vent, arms on either side of her body as he said in his best 'Booth' voice, "God, I love it when you're logical."

"I know," she said cockily, grabbing his lapels and pulling him down into a kiss. His hand moved to push her dress higher up her thighs, and she smiled into the kiss, tugging his bow-tie loose and letting her fingers slid into his dark hair.

They broke apart for a second, both taking deep breaths as he commented wryly, "So much for our dinner plans."

Angela shrugged. "We've done dinner before. And I don't know about you, but sex in an air conditioning vent is new for me."

"It's new for me too," he confirmed quietly, wondering who exactly wouldn't find this experience a little unique. "Happy Valentine's Day, Angela."

She looked up at him, a genuine smile on her lips as she replied softly, "Happy Valentine's Day, Jack." The playful glint quickly returned to her eyes at the sensation of his hand against her thigh, and she sighed teasingly, "God, I love it when you're physical."

He chuckled, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt as he promised, "Well, when we get home tonight, I'll see what I can do about breaking out the handcuffs."

Smiling, Angela tugged him back down into a kiss, and the laughter that echoed through the metal vents soon turned into groans of encouragement and moans of pleasure while the two-man security skeleton crew sat in baffled silence in their office, eyes fixed in horror on the nearest ventilation duct and their minds trying to fathom exactly how many people were involved in the illicit sexual activities taking place above them.