Bones (2005–2017): Season 5, Episode 16 - The Parts in the Sum of the Whole - full transcript

The milestone 100th episode takes viewers back in time six years as Brennan and Booth recount the first case they worked on together. With Sweets finishing his book on their partnership, Brennan and Booth take this opportunity to set the record straight. A young and rebellious FBI Agent Booth seeks the help of an team of anthropological scientists and a street artist to find the evidence that will prove his high-profile suspect guilty. Although in unfamiliar territory, Dr. Brennan, her grad student Zack and Hodgins get right to work, impressing Booth with their knack for uncovering new leads and substantiating his theory about a well-connected district judge. While the case cements a foundation for a successful future partnership, it also reveals the convoluted romantic beginnings of the formidable duo - whose feelings for each other almost destroyed the team but still linger years later.

You know, we're gonna have
to break this to Sweets very gently.

Why? He should be grateful.

- He can be grateful later.
- What do you mean?

Well, you know how people are grateful
when you yell, "Fire,"

but before they're grateful,
they panic and they run into walls.

You think Sweets is gonna panic
and run into a wall?

- Metaphorically. Okay, I get it.
- He's not gonna like it.

If there was a mistake in one of my books,
I'd want to know.

What you call a mistake,
Sweets calls an interpretation.

No, it's an actual factual error.

Okay, what exactly do you think
you think we're telling him about?

Page 31 and I quote,

"Subjects worked together
for the first time

"in solving the murder of pregnant
congressional intern, Cleo Eller."


Right, yeah. That's right.
We worked that other case before that.

What did you think
we were gonna talk to him about?

The whole love thing.

The love thing?

His conclusion that we're in love?
I don't care about that.

- What mistake?
- Hint, it's not what you think.

You disagree with my conclusion
that the two of you are in love

and the sublimating energies
of that connection

are responsible for the energy,
vigor and rigor

that you bring
to your homicide investigations.

I just told you it's not what you think,
and you immediately say what you think.

That's your interpretation.

- We recognize your right to interpret.
- You do?

That's your right as a psychologist
to get everything wrong.

I have circled some typos. Other than that

and the fact that the Cleo Eller murder
was not our first case,

- you're ready to publish.
- Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa!

My interpretation
of your working relationship

is based on the unfolding,
interpersonal dynamics of that first case.

It wasn't our first case.

It's not your first case. Okay.

Well then, please,
tell me all about that real first case

to see if my conclusions are still valid.

A girl was murdered
and her remains were thrown in a landfill.

Her name was Gemma Arrington.
The case was going nowhere.

I was at an early morning
Gamblers Anonymous meeting.

Snap the nine!

Rack them.

Booth had a gambling problem
before he met me.

Well, since I mostly won,
it wasn't really a problem.

But it took your focus away
from more important things, like work.

You know,
I was getting it under control.

- Nice shot, Tex.
- Thanks.


Right. Okay, on my way.

Thank you for seeing me.

The victim's mother, Jocelyn,
came to see me

to tell me
that the New York Coroner's office

was releasing her daughter's remains
for burial.

She was all upset.

Upset why?

The police had given up hope
of finding her daughter's killer.

You see, the case was a split jurisdiction.
The girl was last seen in DC,

but her body was found in New York
in a landfill.

The New York coroner was in
town, and I decided to meet with her.

- Camille.
- Seeley.

I can get you Gemma's file,
but you know the definition of insanity

is to do the same thing
over and over again

expecting a different outcome.

Okay, maybe I missed something.

How's about you get
another point of view?

Partner up? No. You know I don't do that.

There's a forensic anthropologist
at the Jeffersonian.

I read that she solved
how a Stone Age hunter was murdered.

How does that help?

If she can solve a 4,000-year-old homicide,
maybe she can help on Gemma Arrington.

I could release the remains to her.

You know what, Cam,
I'll catch up with you later, all right?

Forensics don't solve crimes, cops do.

Same activity, same results.

Speaking of which,
you look like you've been up all night.

- I'm fine.
- Meaning you won?

Hey, hey, hey, hey!

That's when he said...

What's that scientist's name?

And Cam answered,

"Temperance Brennan."

Which is me.

Most methods of removing flesh
have disadvantages.

I was lecturing on defleshing
techniques at American University.

...methods which preserve the bone
perfectly require patience.

Bones was not what I expected. quickly, but the bone itself
is cooked, transforming the marrow.

The first step is to use
conventional, surgical implements,

being very careful
that the scalpel or forceps

never come in contact with bone.

Any questions?

Yeah, I have a question.

Seems to me, if you remove the flesh,
aren't you destroying the evidence?

On the contrary, I am revealing evidence.

Thank you. See you next week.

Just one more thing.

I mean, isn't all the good evidence
in the flesh,

like the poison
and the stab wounds and the bullets?

All of the important indicators are written
in the bone if you look carefully.

So that's your thing?

Yes, I'm the best in the world.

Oh. Okay, you're serious?

- He thought I was being humorous.
- It turns out to be true.

- But you didn't know that yet.
- Yeah.

- Are you a student here?
- Special Agent Seeley Booth, from the FBI.

I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan
of the Jeffersonian Institution.

- Do you believe in fate?
- Absolutely not. Ludicrous.

- I still don't.
- And I still do.

Booth decided not to provide me
with the murder victim's identity.

I wanted to see if she could
find out what I already knew.

A modicum of connective tissue indicates
that, depending upon burial conditions,

the remains are less than 200 years old.

Zack, we have to shift the paradigm.
This is a recent murder.

- What does this FBI agent want?
- Identification of the remains.

Apparently, the FBI has had no luck
with dental records or missing persons.

Pelvis tells us female
who has never given birth.

Eruption of the third molar
indicates adolescent.

The fingernails have lacquer on them.

Fractures to the pars interarticularis
of the C2 indicate a blow to the forehead,

which may have caused unconsciousness,
but not death.

- What are you doing?
- We are identifying a murder victim.

From this century?

I'm taking the clothing.

Dr. Hodgins, I have asked you before
not to be so unpleasant.

- Please, I'm taking the clothing.
- Why? You're a botanist.

Yeah, and a mineralogist
and an entomologist,

which gives me
the same number of doctorates

as the two of you put together,
because you don't have any.

I could find fibers or spores
or other particulates.

Cause of death,

the sharp symmetrical traumas
to both right and left temporals.

You can the clothing and leave, now.

- Yeah? You can take that femur and...
- Dr. Hodgins.

Dr. Hodgins.

Naomi from Paleontology
suggests that Hodgins is like that

because he needs to get laid.

That means engage in coitus.

- This is not a good likeness.
- Oh, my God, Brennan. Hi.

No, this is accurate.
Actually, this is very accurate.

I disagree.
In reality, his nose looks like a yam.

Could you go over there
and just wait for me over there?

So, you want me to do a caricature?

Yes, but an accurate one. It's for my work.

- Oh, my God. That looks real.
- It is real.

Do you think you could provide me
with a face?

- That's real?
- It's a murder victim.

Murder? Brennan, I thought that
your job was mummies and cavemen.

- I mean, how did he die?
- She, it's a teenager.

Someone, or something, crushed her skull.

Poor thing.

Could you maybe just put that away now?

But the FBI wants to know who she is.

But why me? I mean,
we've only known each other a month.

I interacted with you at your art exhibit

because I was very impressed with
your command of underlying structure.

- You will be paid.
- I'm in.

I'm saving to go back to Paris.

How much do you have saved up so far?

Whatever you're gonna pay me

for that skull, facial murder,
barf-making monstrosity.

Transcripts, interviews,
phone logs, time lines.

I dropped the body off
at the Jeffersonian this morning.

- What'd you tell them about it?
- Nothing.

The gambler in you,
checking out the players.

- Thanks, Cam, I appreciate it.
- Don't thank me, Seeley.

Nobody wants this case anymore.

- Oh, I'm sorry.
- Traditionally,

people disembark the elevator
before reloading begins.

I'm gonna take that as an acceptance
of my apology.

But it wasn't an acceptance.
It was an observation of social mores.

Wait, hey, you're Dr. Brennan, right?
We met at a conference on decapitation.

Never mind.

Your victim was 16 years old, bi-racial.

She died between
three and four years ago.

And her body was left in a landfill
for approximately one year.

She was born in southern Alabama,

but moved north
when she was eight years old.

She was injured in a pre-1998 automobile,
no airbags, when she was 13.

- What? Wow.
- I'm not done.

Judging by her rib cage
and diaphragm attachments,

she was either a swimmer, a singer
or an asthmatic,

or any combination thereof.

This preliminary sketch

gives you a general idea
of what she looks like.

I'm sorry, but we've been unable
to find out her name.

Just for future reference

those human remains
are forensic evidence.

You should be wearing gloves.

I will adjust my behavior accordingly.

- What is this?
- Just watch.

Make everything so simple
in a crazy world

And I'm trying to find the words to say

You make everything all right
just by being around, boy

You make me wanna sing

She bares a marked resemblance
to the sketch I gave you.

Gemma Arrington.
She's been dead for four years.

Her body was found in a landfill
three years ago.

- She's the murder victim?
- Yeah. I'm sorry.

- Sorry for the victim?
- No, sorry for holding back her identity.

Well, even though my time and expertise
are extremely valuable,

I accept your decision to test my abilities.
Obviously, I passed with a lot of color.

- Pardon me?
- It means I did very well.

Oh, right, you... Flying colors.
You passed with flying colors.

Yes. I know.

But passing your test suggests you have
something more important in mind?

I want to catch the bastard who killed her.

But how do you know he was a bastard?
How do you even know it was a man?

Well, uh, okay.

I guess you know who that is, right?

- No.
- Judge Myles Hasty.

That's a federal judge.

Well, I don't follow current events
past the Industrial Revolution.

He killed Gemma.

- Well, why haven't you arrested him?
- I don't have enough proof.

- Then how do you know it's him?
- I just know.

And I'd like to ask you to help me
to catch him.

I won't do that.

- Why?
- Well, I will help you find out the truth.

And if the truth is that he killed her,
I will help you catch him.

But first, the truth, then the catching.

Okay, look, all I need is the kind of crap
that persuades a jury.

It seems to me that
someone like you could benefit hugely

from an association with someone like me.

Oh. You're being serious? You're serious?
I was just kidding.

All right, let's have some fun.

It is fun.

This all happened
a year before the Cleo Eller case?

- Almost to the day.
- Well, 13 months, less a week.

And you didn't argue even though
he withheld information and tested you?

Well, my abilities were outside
his experience.

He called evidence "crap."
And she basically called you stupid.

We were feeling each other up,
like a honeymoon period.

"Out." We were feeling each other out.

Would you like to hear
the rest of that story?

I only knew Hodgins slightly

as a very unpleasant authority
on ancient spores and insects,

but he was the one who figured out

that the remains were in a landfill
for a year before being discovered.

And that wasn't all.

I found a sliver on the dead girl's clothing.

The term is "nebulous."

Wood. I found a splinter of wood.
Maple, to be exact.

So your murder victim, most likely struck
with something made out of maple.

Still an observation so vague
as to approach meaninglessness.

Is he trying to piss me off?

You are always angry. I've been told
you have an anger management problem.

I'm in a program.

I'm supposed to snap this
every time I get angry.

I'd be happy to do that for you.

The victim's boyfriend
was in town the day she disappeared,

trying out for a minor league
baseball team.

- Okay, so?
- What are baseball bats made of?

Maple? Maple. I should've thought of that.

You know, I'm not so sure
that a baseball bat attack

would leave behind splinters though.

Then why posit it as a weapon?

Doubts! I have doubts, you see.
I am doubtful.

Perhaps the two of you
could design an experiment?

What? Whoa. No. Wait. Work together?


I brought in Gemma's baseball-playing
boyfriend for questioning for murder,

but I know he didn't do it.

- But how do you know?
- Well, because the killer's Judge Hasty.

Well, feeling isn't knowing.

When you know something,
you can argue fact,

not merely make insupportable claims
in a passionate tone.

You said that in a passionate tone
without facts.

You see, when it comes down to it,
it's all about what you feel.

Why are you interrogating the boyfriend
if you're already convinced?

Because I wanna convince you.

That's very kind.

Can I come in
and watch you broil the suspect?

Yeah, well, you know, I could broil,
but I think you mean "grill."

I fell apart after I heard
that Gemma got killed.

Couldn't concentrate on anything,
you know.

Couldn't hold it together.

Some people might say
the result of a guilty conscience.

I was in DC to try out
for a minor league baseball team.

My dad was with me,
three of my uncles and four cousins.

I wasn't away from anybody long enough
to kill Gemma

and transport her body to New York City.

He has alibis?

Tell Dr. Brennan
how you did at your tryouts.

I did great.
What does that have to do with anything?

Well, your tryouts were
after Gemma was killed.

Yeah, but I didn't know that yet.

I thought everything was great.

I didn't fall apart until after
I found out Gemma was murdered.

I still dream about being there
when that happened,

about protecting her.

Psychologically consistent.

I'm not well-acquainted with psychology,
but anthropologically-speaking,

men are programmed to consider
themselves the protectors of their mates.

It was unnecessary
to put you through this again.

I don't mind coming in
and answering these questions

'cause it means
that you guys are still looking.

And I want that.

Whoa, whoa!

Why are you the deliverer of the blow
while I am the recipient?

Because you grunted
when you picked up the bat.

Brace yourself.

Excuse me. Go back to work, please.

- Conclusions thus far?
- No, nothing.

The bat did not leave behind any slivers

even though the suit Zack is wearing
is much more abrasive

than the cotton the victim was wearing.

A blow like that would've left behind
unmistakable bone damage.

Have you tried striking Zack
in the soft tissue or in the liver?

- What?
- Yeah, anatomy's really not my thing.


That one had some pepper!

That would most certainly have caused
hemorrhaging in the liver

- followed by death.
- Nothing.

You know, a bat is so honed
and close-grained,

it cannot be broken
on the soft tissues of a human being.

We can try striking his head.

- What?
- Unnecessary.

So I guess a baseball bat
was not the murder weapon.

Dr. Brennan, I found something interesting
in the victim's x-rays.

The bones of the inner ear
are missing here.

Indicating that they may have been
extracted during the assault.

Did you set up the UV light source?

- Yes.
- I'll do it, Zack.

Thank you, Dr. Brennan.
It's hard to move in this suit.

These bone bruisings occurred
before death. Possibilities?

Recurring pattern, so either struck
repeatedly with the same narrow weapon

or perhaps crushed
beneath some kind of grid.

Could you please measure
the exact distances between the bruises?

Of course, Dr. Brennan.

So at 6:30 p.m., Gemma and her choir
sang here for a group of hoity-toits.

I don't know what that means.

Shakers and machers, and, you know,
influential types, including Judge Hasty.

There was a reception here at 9:00 p.m.

Gemma was seen here at the beginning
of the reception, and then poof!

A year later, her remains were found
in a New York City landfill.

So, what are we looking for?

The source of a pattern of bone bruising

that happened very shortly
before she died.

Regular strikes
approximately 33 centimeters apart

spanning the remains
from forehead down to mid-femur.

I was thinking something made of maple,
a heavy bookcase, scaffolding, a ladder.

I gotta tell you, I really am enjoying
working with you, Bones.

- Bones is not my name.
- Well, it's just a nickname.

Yes, I see. I could call you Shoes.

- Shoes? Why Shoes?
- Yes, because they are so very shiny.

Shoes, they're part of my uniform.

The FBI, they just have a way
of doing things.

Well, anthropologically-speaking,

para-militaristic organizations
tend to constrain individuality.

That's for sure.

But in any group,
no matter how restrictive,

the free-thinkers, the mavericks,
the rebels with leadership quality

find ways to declare their distinctiveness.

You know, I'm a free-thinking rogue rebel.

Are you seeing anyone?

Wow. Right to the point there,
huh, Bones?

Uh, casually, but she doesn't
really like my hours. You?

Well, a physicist has been asking me out.
So I was thinking of saying yes.

I'd ask you out if I could.

Why can't you?

Well, FBI rules, again.

No fraternizing with other agents
or consultants.

That's too bad.

Glad you think so.

These stairs, look,
they're made out of maple.

The sliver on the victim's clothing could've
come from violent contact with stairs.

What about the bone bruising?

The hypotenuse of the triangle
formed by the riser and tread

looks to be approximately 33 centimeters.

Gemma was probably trying to escape.

Fell down here, and the judge probably
dragged her to the exit right over here.

There it is!

The killer could've driven back here
and taken her away without being seen.

You think that Gemma Arrington
was chased by Judge Hasty?

He played football in college.

Then he swung her into a wall
or something?

Well, no, no, no.
The next part here shows...

Who's this now?

I'm Angela Montenegro. I'm an artist.

- Who are you?
- That's Miss Julian.

She's a federal prosecutor.
She's on our side.

Tell her that Angela possesses
extremely keen spatial awareness.

- And who's this now?
- That's a squint.

I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan
from the Jeffersonian.

Don't bother.
You know, never remember squints.

- That's correct. And you know why?
- Why?

Because they get all wishy-washy
and flip-floppy on the witness stand.

So it's better I don't remember
the last time they let me down

when I meet them again.

- Here, continue with the flip book there.
- Okay, yes. Okay. Okay.

So the judge tackles Gemma.

You remember?
You know, football in college.

And grabs her ankle.

Wham. Right there. Bam! All of a sudden,

you know, he's got an unconscious girl
on his hands,

and you know what? He thinks she's dead.

Loads her into his car
at the bottom of the stairs

and drives her to a landfill in New York.

Why was he chasing her?

- Who cares why?
- Oh. Let's see,

a judge, a jury, the press
and, oh, yeah, me!

Caroline, all I need is a warrant
to arrest Judge Hasty.

Well, maybe if this little stick figure thing
was a big computer,

lots of bells and whistles,

but right now,
it just looks like a sadistic children's book.

What's the pincer-death-grip thing
that actually killed the girl?

We don't know yet.

This won't get me a warrant.
I'm a lowly federal prosecutor,

and Hasty is a big-shot federal judge.

A hoity-toit.

Ah. I see what's going on here.

You've always wanted this office.
Tired of sitting out there in the bullpen.

Well, I'm not committing career suicide
because you're cute and want a window.

- We should go. Okay.
- Okay.

Hey, listen, he is very cute.

Well, I do respond to the breadth
of his shoulders and the strong jaw line.

Guys, guys, guys, okay, Caroline says
that we can't arrest the judge,

but she doesn't say
we can't ask him a few questions.

Thanks so much for coming down,
Judge Hasty.

As you pointed out, if I refuse,
the headline news would read,

"Federal judge declines to cooperate
in a homicide investigation."

Well, what we think is
that you chased Gemma Arrington,

- and she fell down those stairs.
- Okay, Bones, way to jump right in there.

- She was trying to escape you.
- Why? I'm a very nice man.

Did you use that line on her, too?

The only words I ever spoke
to the girl were,

"You have a lovely voice."

And I said it in front of about 100 people.

What did you not do
in front of 100 people, Judge?

- Okay.
- Booth is suggesting sexual impropriety.

So I chased her through the opera house.

That's very melodramatic.
And then, what?

- I pushed her down the stairs.
- No.

She was trying to get away from you,
and you tripped her,

- and she fell down the stairs.
- And she died.

No, those injuries didn't kill her.

You're making this all up,
and she's making you look like an idiot.

No, in fact, I am very intelligent.


You could've fooled me.

You're ridiculous.

- Is this very bad?
- I have been wanting to do that for years.

You are so hot.

That's great.

That woman punched a federal judge
in the nose twice!

Well, self-defense. He was panicking.
All right, we got it right.

Fire her and cut all ties.

- If we're lucky, Hasty sues her and not us.
- Well, I can't do that.

She should never have been in the field.
I am sympathetic.

I have let a pretty face lead me down
the paths of unrighteousness.

Yours, for example.

- Whoa, it's not like that.
- Of course it is.

Watching you two together
was like being at prom.

But it's not high school now, Booth.
It's grown-up time.

The beautiful scientist is fired.

She just doesn't know it yet.
That oversight is what you must rectify.

My advice. Get her drunk first.


I've been trying to estimate
the force needed

to cause this damage to the victim's skull.

I'm working up a chart of equivalencies.

Alligator bites have been measured
at 2,000 pounds of force,

hyenas at 1,000, sharks at 330.
Whatever did this damage

was somewhere between
a human and a chimpanzee.

Meaning approximately 250 pounds
of force.

I just had a terrible thought.
We removed the flesh by boiling.

What if there were particulates
on the bone which Hodgins could identify?

We're not used to dealing
with such fresh kills. We must adapt.

Could I help?

Wow. This place is huge.

Angela, this is my assistant, Zack Addy.

Zack, this is my friend,
Angela Montenegro.

Hey, it's Jimmy Neutron, huh, boy scientist.

- I don't know what that means.
- Neither do I.


It occurred to me when I did
the facial reconstruction

that the girl's head was slammed.

Well, a door would have crushed
the entire side of her head, Ange.

Right, but what if it were some kind
of protuberance, like a bolt or something?

- A sliding door?
- Well, I don't know.

I'm an artist. I belong in Paris.

What about a car trunk
with a catch and a latch?

How much force would
a slamming car trunk generate?

- Is he doing that in his head?
- 260 force pounds, give or take.

That could fit.

I have to go meet Booth.

I have a little math problem
you can't solve.

Can God create a bigger rock
than he can roll?

Think about it.

Drink up there, all right.

Okay, so all we have to do is compare
the wounds in the victim's skull

- with the judge's cars.
- No, Bones, let's just stop

talking about the case
just for one moment, all right?

- Okay.
- Check this out.

Okay, I am declaring my individuality.
I am going rogue.

You have gone rogue.

Okay, here.
You handle your liquor very well.

Well, this stuff is nothing
compared to the bhang

I had to drink as a grad student in India.
It's made of fermented cannabis.

- Here's to bhang. To bhang.
- To bhang.

You're fired.

What? Why? Because I drank bhang?

But that was in pursuit
of scholarly research.

Why am I fired?

You're fired
because you assaulted a federal judge.

No, you thought that was hot.

I did. I did. It was very hot. Hey, cheers!


- Hey.
- Yeah.

If we don't work together anymore,
we could have sex.

I'll call a cab.

Hold on, hold on, hold on. Listen!
Hold that cab!

Listen, I got something to confess.

Well, is it the fact that you're
a direct descendant of John Wilkes Booth?

- I already know that.
- Wait a second. How do you know that?

From your bone structure.

Just keep that under your hat, okay,
for now, all right?

- Okay.
- What I wanted to confess was...

See, I have a gambling problem,
but I'm dealing with it.

Why did you feel you had to tell me that?

You know, I just feel like
this is going somewhere.

Why did you feel this is going somewhere?

I just... I feel like I'm gonna kiss you.

- You kissed?
- Yes.

There was tongue contact.

My book is crap.

Well, that's why we wanted
to come here today.

Yeah, we just wanted
to warn you, Sweets,

so you wouldn't be
barking up the wrong tree.

How long did this affair last?

- Should we tell him?
- Yes! Yes, you should.


We are not spending the night together.

- Of course we aren't. Why?
- Tequila.

Hey, hold the cab! Hold the cab! Hey!

So you're afraid that when I look at you
in the morning, I'll have regrets?

That would never happen.

I went home and went to bed.

So did I.

Hey. Hey, we have to tell you something.

Zack told me how bad you felt about
boiling all the particulates out of the skull.

- I need some coffee.
- This is coffee.

- Thank you.
- Despite the boiling,

I was able to get microscopic samples
from the bones.

Hey, have I mentioned how excited I am
to be working with you?

Yes, yeah, you mentioned it.

Dr. Hodgins found microscopic fragments
of steel and traces of lubricating oil.

Zack and I compared manufacturer's
specs for the judge's trunk

to the victim's gaping head wound.

One of them matched.

- We got fired.
- A '56 Bel Air.

- What?
- What?

- What?
- We got fired?

Is this because you slept with Booth?

What? I didn't sleep with Booth.
Why did you say that?

- Tequila vapors.
- What is happening?

Well, I got us fired
because I punched a judge in the schnoz.

Now, I'm never gonna make it to Paris.

Angela, I can offer you steady employment

reconstructing ancient remains
and tombs and digs.


You know, I've always wanted
to go to Paris with an artist.

Zack, take all of the evidence to Booth
at the FBI.

Then we all can go back
to our normal jobs.

You ever feel like you saw something great
that almost happened, then it didn't?

- Are you Special Agent Booth?
- What are you?


The Jeffersonian, right.
You must be one of the squints.

- I'm not familiar with that term.
- Squint.

You know, you guys,
you squint when you look at things.

Just like that.

This is proof that Federal Judge
Myles Hasty murdered Gemma Arrington.

Proof? What proof?

- It was immensely stupid of you to fire us.
- I'm sorry, but did you just call me stupid?

I can only conclude
that you are immensely stupid.

You fired the Jeffersonian Institution?

I don't know what any of this stuff means.
Yeah, Caroline made me.

Dr. Bones punched the judge
right in the nose.

- They got the judge.
- They got the judge?

- This is good news.
- What'd I tell you?

The girl's head was smashed in
by the locking mechanism of a '56 Bel Air?

- Here's the evidence.
- More stick-man cartoons?

Yes, but you know, you can jazz it up
with the computers before trial.

- Look at the evidence.
- If you're wrong about this,

my career is over.
So don't tell me to look at the evidence.

Because you know
I'm gonna look at the evidence.

- And you, reassure me.
- Yes, Cam and I,

we did look at the evidence,
and we both feel that there's enough here

to get a warrant
to search the judge's vehicle.

He'd better have done this.

Because irritating a federal judge,
very unwise.

A small trace of blood, any DNA
would be enough to make an arrest.

- You fire the Jeffersonian already?
- Of course.

- Hire it back.
- Okay.

And push come to shove,

you be ready to testify that judge walked
into a door or something.


I'll have your warrant in an hour.

So why are you still here?

- You're back, baby!
- You're re-hired!

- But I've moved on.
- What is that? A monkey?

No, this is Ardipithecus ramidus kadabba,

- the earliest known...
- Okay, abracadabra can wait.

All right, we have a warrant
for the judge's car, so let's go.

What's the matter? Get your coat!
Chop, chop!

Is something wrong?

I find I'm annoyed with you.

Why? Because I fired you
and hired you back?

It's the federal government.

No, because you got me drunk to fire me
and then have sex with me.

Whoa. No,
I got myself drunk so I could fire you.

And you decided not to have sex with me,
which I accepted gracefully.

So are you regretting that decision?

No, I'm not. It was a very good decision.
I stand by it.

- What's going on, Bones?
- Do not call me Bones.

This car's been cleaned, sanded,
and re-painted, and the rug is new.

- All right, so nothing?
- Nothing.

Can I have my car back?

I see no reason why not.

You've done nothing but cooperate
at every stage of this investigation.

- What, that's it?
- Well, we don't have anything.

- Well, my people should look at it.
- Why?

- Because we're smarter than you.
- I beg your pardon?

Please, do you really think the best
and brightest go into law enforcement?

No, the best and brightest
go to the Jeffersonian.

Really? Because you know the one I met
couldn't pick his nose without instruction.

The locking mechanism
should be removed.

Okay, excuse me. You know what?

You really need to learn
how to speak to human beings.

I speak six languages,
two of which you've never even heard of.

- You know what, you're a cold fish.
- You're a superstitious moron!

- Get a soul!
- Get a brain!

Agent Booth?

- What?
- What? I'm Agent Booth!


- What is that?
- I have no idea.

It's a stapes, human.
It's a bone from the inner ear.

- Gemma Arrington's?
- Well, I have no way of knowing that

without doing some tests.

Anyone who took high school science
should know that.

Well, anyone
with a high school education would figure,

"Hey, who else's could it be?"

Send this to the Jeffersonian,
and we'll can check it for DNA.

All right, you know what?
That's fine, all right.

That's it.
Judge Hasty, you are under arrest, pal!

- Are you okay?
- Here, have a glass of water.

It's like you two missed your moment,
and then you punished each other for it.

And you know
who ends up paying the price?

Me. I do.

Okay, what happened next?

Well, the minute I had the judge
in the interrogation room,

he started to mess up.


It was Gemma Arrington's
stapes, of course.

So we had proof she'd been killed
in the trunk of his car.

Nice car. That's your...

We also had testimony
from the valet

who actually saw him pull in
the back alley.

- Lie upon lie.
- Fact upon fact.

But I just... I didn't know why.

Booth is obsessed
with why people do things.

Yeah, what did Gemma see?

I mean, why did Hasty chase her
through the back of the theater?

- You figured it out, right?
- Not me.


I noticed the way
he touched his nose very gingerly.

considering you have no motive,

I'm sure you'll concede there's no sense
in detaining my client.

I know what happened.

When the prosecutor tells the jury,
they're gonna believe it, too.

It had to be something
that would've ruined his career.

But also destroyed his judgment.

You had your septum replaced.

What was it? Cocaine, crystal meth?

Gemma saw you snorting something.

He thought he killed her on the stairs,
so he went to get his car.

She regained consciousness
as he loaded her into the trunk.

He panicked and slammed the lid,
which killed her.

I just wanted to stop her,

reason with her, maybe offer her a bribe.

- But she ran.
- That's enough, Myles.

And it was.

Judge Hasty will be eligible for parole
in 10 years.

That's the story of our first case, Sweets.
Sorry about your book.

No, it's not... It's not...
What happened between you two?

We started to argue.

In front of the victim's mother.

Well, I was worried that we still

didn't have enough evidence to convict.

I told her that this was definitely
not the place to bring this up.

- Let go of me!
- I will if you would just...

- Ow! What the hell?
- You are a bully!

You grabbed my arm just like the judge.

You use your badge and your gun
to intimidate people.

Really? The way you use your brain
to make people around you feel stupid!

Well, you are a stupid man! I hate you!

You hate me. What are you 10 years old?
I'm not your dad!

- I will never work with you again!
- Who asked you?

- You struck him?
- Well, I shouldn't have grabbed her.

We're sorry about your book.

Okay, this is... You are totally messed up.

I always said that you could never kiss,

because if you did,
then the dam would break.

And now, it turns out that you kissed.

- Did the dam break?
- What does that mean?

Well, he still thinks that we slept together.

We're not in love with each other.

It took us a year after we kissed
to be in the same room together, right?

Absolutely, right.
No more kissing or anything.

If you're not in love,
then how come you haven't been

in any serious relationships
since you first met, huh?

- I don't really do that.
- You know, my job, son.

One of you has to have the courage
to break this stalemate.

You, it's gotta be you.
Because you're the gambler.

For once, make that work for you.

- Something to eat?
- I could eat.

Okay, sorry about that book.

In his book, Sweets wrote
that being abandoned by my parents

made me convinced that all meaningful
relationships are doomed.

Hey, he wrote
that I got white knight syndrome

because of my physically abusive,
alcoholic father.

I hate psychology.

I'm the gambler.

I believe in giving this a chance.

Look, I wanna give this a shot.

You mean us?

No, the FBI won't let us work together

- as a couple.
- Don't do that. That is no reason.

No, no!

- Why? Why?
- You thought you were protecting me.

- But you're the one who needs protecting.
- Protecting from what?

From me.

I don't have your kind of open heart.

Just give it a chance. That's all I'm asking.

No, you said it yourself.

The definition of insanity
is doing the same thing

over and over again
and expecting a different outcome.

Well, then let's go
for a different outcome here.

All right, just hear me out, all right.
You know when you talk to older couples

who, you know, have been in love
for 30 or 40 or 50 years, all right.

It's always the guy who says, "I knew."

I knew right from the beginning.

- Your evidence is anecdotal.
- I'm that guy.

Bones, I'm that guy. I know.


I am not a gambler.
I'm a scientist. I can't change.

I don't know how.

I don't know how.

- Please, don't look so sad.
- All right, okay.

You're right. You're right.

Can we still work together?


Thank you.

But I gotta move on.

You know, I gotta find someone
who's gonna love me

in 30 years, or 40, or 50.

I know.