Épisode La dernière traversée S06E06 - Bones Saison 6

THE SHALLOW IN THE DEEP

(Open: Booth’s apartment. There is a rapid knocking at the door. Booth is asleep in bed)

BOOTH: Yeah. Aww (he groans as he awakes and stumbles out of bed).

(knocking continues)

BRENNAN: Booth?

BOOTH: Yeah. Unhh. (He cracks his toes, then gets out of bed, pulling on his robe, still making groaning noises. He cracks his back as he heads into the bathroom. Still sighing and pulling on his robe, he looks at himself, bleary-eyed, in the mirror. He continues walking, cracking his neck, and his back again, then his fingers). Oof.

(more knocking)

BRENNAN: Booth? Are you there?

(Booth is still walking towards his front door)

BOOTH: No, I’m in South Beach, working on my tan (he opens the door, still grunting and groaning. Brennan is standing there, enthusiastic and eager to get going).

BRENNAN: You need Sweets to sign your post-Afghanistan fitness for duty report. Did you forget?

BOOTH: Me? (He turns to go back into the apartment)

BRENNAN: Well, generally, you wear more clothing, and you’ve been avoiding this for weeks (she shuts the front door).

BOOTH: Well, I couldn’t sleep. Hannah got up at the crack of dawn (he continues walking, cracking more joints as he goes). Ooh.

BRENNAN: Do you always have this pronounced a release of gas in the morning?

BOOTH: (turns to face Brennan) Is it that bad?

BRENNAN: Synovial gas, that’s what the cracking is.

BOOTH: Synovial gas, what’s that mean?

BRENNAN: well, there comes a point when your body can’t hide all the abuse it’s taken.

BOOTH: What do you, what do you mean a certain point?

BRENNAN: Booth, you’ve been shot, and beaten, and jumped out of airplanes. The skeletal damage alone…

BOOTH (groans and turns): Oh God, I’m falling apart.

BRENNAN: You’re fine. It’s your skeleton that’s falling apart.

(Cut to: FBI building, Booth and Brennan are rounding a corner).

BRENNAN: The compression fracture to your T3 alone should have incapacitated you years ago, then there’s the fracture to your sternum from when that obese girl shot you, fractures from your metatarsals from when you were tortured, rib pitting from when you foolishly tried to act as a human shield…

BOOTH: Rib pitting?

BRENNAN: And that’s before we even get to your compromised ligaments, both intertransverse and anterior longitudinal.

BOOTH: How do you have room in your brain to remember all this?

BRENNAN: I care about you, Booth, and the more abuse a body takes, the sooner it degenerates.

BOOTH: That’s it? That’s all you’ve got for me? (they enter the elevator)

BRENNAN: Well, it can be a good thing. In tribes, men like you are elders. They don’t have to hunt anymore.

BOOTH: Well, I want to go hunting.

BRENNAN: (reaching forward to press the button) Well, perhaps you’ll feel better after you get your form signed.

(Cut to: Sweets’ office, sounds of giggling are heard. Booth and Brennan have stunned looks on their faces as they behold two pairs of feet hanging off the edge of the couch)

DAISY: Oh I will! (giggling)

BRENNAN: Oh!

SWEETS: Agent Booth!

DAISY: (pops up over the back of the couch, arms clutched to her chest for modesty’s sake) Dr. Brennan!

BRENNAN: You should be at work, Ms. Wick! It is a very important day.

BOOTH: (hands form to Sweets) Can you sign this?

SWEETS: Are you serious?

BOOTH: Sign. (He hands Sweets a pen and the form) Just sign and get back to your fun. (Sweets signs the paper)

(Cut to: Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab. Brennan is walking, and Daisy is tagging behind her, trying to catch up)

DAISY: Dr. Brennan, about this morning.

BRENNAN: What about it?

DAISY: I don’t want you to think that Lance and I are dating again, because we’re not. That was purely accidental intercourse.

BRENNAN: You had intercourse accidentally? What were you trying to do, Ms. Wick?

DAISY: I was returning a book.

BRENNAN: And your pants fell off?

(Workers are bringing in large artifacts on rolling tables, Cam and Angela are supervising)

CAM: All of the pieces of ship without remains attached, straight to the early American workroom. Door on your right.

WORKER: Where do you want this?

CAM: Take it up on the platform.

WORKER: Got it.

(Brennan and Daisy approach and come to a stop beside Cam)

CAM: Okay. (turns to Brennan) How much of this is there?

BRENNAN: I have no idea.

CAM: So, when you said old remains, the ship part of it just slipped your mind?

BRENNAN: No, of course not.

ANGELA: This is incredible. I can’t believe this is an actual slave ship. Where did they find it?

BRENNAN: Off the coast of Maryland. This could shed enormous light on the slave trade.

CAM: Or give me nightmares. One or the other.

(Hodgins enters with more parts of the ship)

HODGINS: Mytilus edulis, blue mussels. Wow. Hey, they said this was for you (he hands Angela a sheaf of papers).

BRENNAN: The Jeffersonian Board of Directors wants us to try and identify the remains.

CAM: How? These people have been dead for nearly 150 years.

ANGELA: Yeah, well this might help. It’s a copy of the outgoing manifest, and it lists all the slaves they were transporting to New Orleans. There’s age, and race, and degree of color. This is really detailed, in a totally horrible, disgusting, sucky kind of way.

HODGINS: Slaves were considered property. They were as carefully catalogued as livestock or silverware.

(Brennan grimaces and shakes her head slightly, Cam looks uneasy and tilts her head down, avoiding eye contact. Angela looks disturbed, glances at Cam and Brennan, then makes eye contact with Hodgins, who turns his gaze to the remains).

(Cut to: Platform, Brennan is leaning over a set of remains, Angela is standing next to her, taking notes)

BRENNAN: Male child, under ten years old. One hundred and thirty centimeters. The marine mussels compromised the bone, but the skull shows a mix of Negroid and Caucasoid characteristics, suggesting that he would be listed as mulatto.

ANGELA: Got it, Pollodore Nelson.

DAISY: Symphyseal rim well defined, partial ectocranial suture closure, female, forties, five feet tall.

ANGELA: Ok, there’s only one woman that small.

(Cam is looking down at something)

CAM: Over here, now. Uh, not kidding, even a little bit. Dr. Hodgins. (Daisy, Brennan and Anglea make their way over to Cam’s table)

HODGINS (rushes over to where Cam is): Yeah. Yeah.

CAM: That. What the hell is it?

HODGINS (bending down for a closer look): Wow, it’s some kind of organism anchored to the bone. Interesting.

CAM: Alien sea-life hitchhikes in on a slave ship and that’s all you can say? Interesting?

BRENNAN: Well, I think in this context, interesting is a way of acknowledging life forms beyond Dr. Hodgins’ expertise.

HODGINS: Temporary condition, I assure you. All right, listen up! Pull any other bones with pink slime and bring them over here. It’s possible that alien is an appropriate adjective. We may be looking at NTI here. (Another squint brings over more remains and hands them to Daisy, who places them on the table)

CAM: What’s he talking about?

BRENNAN: I have no idea.

HODGINS: NTI? As in, non-terrestrial intelligence?

ANGELA: Oh no.

HODGINS: If alien life forms were going to exist somewhere on Earth, the ocean floor would be it.

CAM: Please tell me you’re kidding.

BRENNAN: Judging by weight and texture, all the affected bones appear to belong to the same skeleton. (Brennan picks up the skull and observes it as the others look on). Something is very wrong.

(Cut to: FBI building meeting room)

BOOTH: C’mon Bones, I really gotta look at these images?

BRENNAN: Yes. (She pulls up images of the x-rays) Penetrating trauma to the cribriform plate and palatine bones.

BOOTH: Ok, you mean that jaggedy looking hole there?

BRENNAN: Yes. The puncture would have extended upwards, into the anterior base of the brain, resulting in immediate death. This man was hooked through the mouth like a fish. (She demonstrates on Booth, by hooking her finger up against the roof of his mouth. He does not appreciate this and grabs her hand, removing it and making a face of displeasure).

BOOTH: Ok, got it, thank you. Very much. I just don’t know how I can help you with a murdered slave though.

BRENNAN: They may have found him in a slave ship, but given the condition of his cartilage, this man died less than a month ago. And, this is murder.

(Opening credits)

(Cut to: Platform at the Medico-Legal Lab. Daisy is working on a skeleton, Brennan joins her)

BRENNAN: Abrasions to the pisiform. It’s likely this person was wearing manacles. Why are you working on remains from the slave ship when you know our recent murder victim has priority?

DAISY: Because Dr. Hodgins is still trying to remove the unidentified deep sea life forms. Maybe we should discuss the murder victim’s x-rays instead? (They go over to a computer, where Daisy pulls up the images)

BRENNAN: Incomplete epiphyseal fusion – he was at most twenty years old.

DAISY: Chipping on the zygomatic arch. Hairline fractures to the mental foramen. All heavily remodeled. Metaphyseal fractures to the left tibia and right ulna. Never properly set.

BRENNAN: I’ve seen these before. They happen when someone has their extremities wrenched over and over again at a very young age.

DAISY: Suggestive of child abuse?

BRENNAN (nods slightly): We have to identify him. What is taking Dr. Hodgins so long?

(Cut to Hodgins’ lab area. He is peering through a magnifying lens, Angela is standing next to him.)

HODGINS: We are looking at what could be a clue to the origin of life itself.

ANGELA: The origin of life looks like a pink Chia pet?

HODGINS: According to one theory, billions of years ago, organic molecules hitchhiked to Earth on comets that plummeted into our oceans, forming the seeds of life as we know it.

ANGELA: Ok, now you’ve lost me.

HODGINS: Look at this. Organism operates like hair follicles. Anchors its root system to the bone.

ANGELA: You know, it’s actually kind of attractive up close.

HODGINS: Yeah, for a mucus-excreting underwater insect.

ANGELA: (laughs) Well, let me scan the skull and then I can build a facial reconstruction from it.

HODGINS (placing the skull on the dais for Angela to scan): Do you realize these guys could be harder to identify than a decomposed murder victim?

ANGELA: How can you compare a murder victim to ocean snot that looks like something Barbie wore to the prom?

HODGINS: You compared it to a Chia pet.

ANGELA: Yeah well, it’s not the same thing.

HODGINS: You’re right. Because if these guys are new, and I get to identify them, then I get to name an entire species. Angelonicus montenegris.

ANGELA: Really?

HODGINS: Really.

(Hodgins rises, Angela chuckles, and they embrace).

(Cut to: Booth’s office. Sweets and Booth are having a conversation. Sweets is pacing Booth’s office, Booth is sitting at his desk).

SWEETS: So the dead guy got caught in a fishing net and the fishing net got caught in the slave ship?

BOOTH: Yeah, the net gets lost, floats around for years – they call it a ghost net.

SWEETS: Wow. Ghost net caught a ghost. That’s…

BOOTH: Something like that.

SWEETS: That’s ironic.

BOOTH: ‘Kay, why are you still here?

SWEETS: I’m weak. I’m weak, Agent Booth. I broke up with Daisy, but I can’t keep my hands off her.

BOOTH: What’s new? Alright, you’re a guy. Life goes on.

SWEETS: Yeah, that’s the problem. We broke up. But it just goes on. It’s, it’s like she’s a magnet. Should I just let it happen?

(Booth reaches for something and plonks it down in front of Sweets – it is a magic 8-ball)

BOOTH: Here. Pick it up.

SWEETS: (picks up the magic 8-ball, shakes – the ball comes up reading “yes definitely”) Yes, definitely. You think?

BOOTH: I don’t know, how am I supposed to know?

SWEETS: Years of experience? The perspective of age?

BOOTH: (groans, puts his head on his arms on his desk) Age. How is it that I went to sleep Han Solo and I woke up Obi-Wan Kenobi?

SWEETS: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

(Booth’s computer beeps)

BOOTH: Oh. Looks like Angela finished the victim’s facial reconstruction. (He opens the attachment) Oh! There is our ghost.

(Cut to: Booth’s SUV. Booth and Brennan are driving to interview a suspect. Brennan is looking through some papers)

BOOTH: He wasn’t on the missing person’s database, but I got a hit from the FBI’s facial reconstruction software.

BRENNAN: Mike Casper.

BOOTH: Yeah, his wife lives in uh, Calvert County.

BRENNAN: He’s married?

BOOTH: Yeah, he’s got a kid, and a dog, and a cushy aerospace job.

BRENNAN: No, that’s not possible. He’s nineteen, twenty, twenty-one at most.

BOOTH: Alright Bones, he’s twenty-eight.

BRENNAN: No, there’s no way. Booth, you really need to double-check these things.

BOOTH: Ok, look, the battle scars are to the body, not to the brain, ok?

BRENNAN: You’re being very touchy.

BOOTH: I’m not being touchy. This is Casper’s driver’s license, it’s the same face Angela drew, right there (he points emphatically to the paper Brennan is holding, which is of Mike Casper’s DMV registration information).

BRENNAN: Okay. It’s possible he had cerebral palsy. That could retard bone development.

BOOTH: Or, you’re just wrong.

(Cut to: Front door of an apartment. Booth and Brennan are still arguing)

BRENNAN: I’m not wrong.

(Booth rings the doorbell)

BOOTH: You’re wrong.

BRENNAN: Not wrong.

(Door opens)

MRS. CASPER: Yes?

BOOTH: Mrs. Casper?

MRS. CASPER: Yes?

BOOTH: (he pulls out his badge) Special Agent Booth, this here’s my partner, Dr. Brennan.

MRS. CASPER: How can I help you?

BOOTH: Mind if we come in?

MRS. CASPER: Um, I’m actually in the middle of something right now (she flips her hair).

BOOTH: It’s about your husband.

BRENNAN: We believe we’ve found his remains off the coast of Maryland.

BOOTH: Any reason to believe that he might have been on a boat recently?

MRS. CASPER: Ask him yourself. (she turns to call her husband) Mike?

(Mike comes to the front door)

MIKE CASPER: Yeah?

(Cut to: FBI interview room, Booth and Sweets are interviewing Mr. and Mrs. Casper. Booth lays down the DMV sheet in front of them.)

BOOTH: Victim got a driver’s license with your name and his picture, used it to charge up a fortune in credit card debt.

MIKE CASPER: Yeah, I get it. The guy who got killed is the same guy who stole my ID, but it’s got nothing to do with me. Not exactly a violent guy.

MRS. CASPER: Mike’s very easy-going. (She flips her hair again in a nervous gesture)

SWEETS: This is a conversation between you and your credit card company, Mr. Casper. You know how you say they record calls for quality control? Well, turns out it’s true.

(He presses a button on the laptop to begin playing the recording)

CUSTOMER SERVICE REP: I’m sorry sir, but because you failed to notify us within the time…

MIKE CASPER: How could I tell you when I didn’t know?

CUSTOMER SERVICE REP: You should have contacted the credit reporting agencies. In the future, if you place a fraud alert on your credit…

MIKE CASPER: You wanna know what I’m going to do in the future? I’m gonna find the scum who stole my ID and I’m gonna kill him.

(end recording)

MIKE CASPER: What did you expect me to say? They froze my cards, our credit was ruined. That piece of dirt cost us the house we were trying to buy.

MRS. CASPER: If we need to have a lawyer…

MIKE CASPER: No, we don’t need a lawyer, Claire, we haven’t done anything.

MRS. CASPER: My husband’s telling the truth, he’s not a violent man.

BOOTH: Eh, Sweets, tell ‘em what you told me.

SWEETS: According to the latest clinical data, identity theft can cause serious maladaptive psychological and somatic symptoms.

MIKE CASPER: Yeah, no kidding, I haven’t slept in two months.

SWEETS: Those symptoms aren’t limited to insomnia.

MIKE CASPER: (agitated, banging on the table) The hell is that supposed to mean?

SWEETS: Okay, that would be one of the maladaptive psychological symptoms. Uncontrolled rage.

MIKE CASPER: How could I kill him when I didn’t even know who he was?

BOOTH: I noticed that you have a boat hitch on the back of your car – you got a boat?

MIKE CASPER: Yeah, I fish, so what?

BOOTH: You have any big hooks on that boat?

MIKE CASPER: Why?

BOOTH: Well, body was found about a mile off the coast – I’m thinking maybe you’re doing more than just fishing on that boat?

MIKE CASPER: All right, I want that lawyer. Now.

(Cut to: Jeffersonian – Hodgins’ lab. Daisy is standing watch over the victim’s remains)

DAISY: Dr. Brennan really needs these. I don’t understand why you can’t just pluck.

(Hodgins appears from behind the shelves with a large device in hand)

HODGINS: If I pluck them off one by one, it’s going to take a week, Ms. Wick, so what you need to do is stop telling me how to do my job.

(Hodgins bends over the remains with the device, which turns out to be a light)

DAISY: I don’t see how this is going to hurry things up.

HODGINS: If I figure out what they are, I can figure out how to get them off. Any more questions? (He bends down, peering at the bones)

DAISY: Not at this moment.

HODGINS: Aha! Yes! It’s a type of benthic worm! See? Progress!

(Cam enters)

CAM: Okay, the only way I can get DNA to ID our ID thief, is by using bone marrow, but your alien organism has sucked it dry.

HODGINS: Ok, contrary to popular rumor, it is not my alien organism. Not yet, anyway. But, I have narrowed it down to a type of benthic worm.

CAM: How can you not be able to ID a fluffy pink worm? How many of those could there possibly be?

HODGINS: Oh, you’d be surprised.

(Cut to: Royal Diner, Booth and Brennan are eating and discussing the case)

BOOTH: How’m I supposed to figure out who killed him when I can’t even figure out who he is.

BRENNAN: All I can tell from the x-rays is he had multiple fractures that were never properly set. He also sustained repeated facial trauma between the ages of two and fourteen.

BOOTH: So, child abuse?

(Brennan nods in affirmation)

BOOTH: He wasn’t on a missing person’s database, so means no-one was missing.

BRENNAN: You have a very strange tendency to state the obvious.

BOOTH: If you were a kid who got the crap beat out of him over and over again, what would you do?

BRENNAN: You’d think about running away, or you do run away. But he wasn’t a kid anymore, Booth, he was nineteen or twenty when he died.

BOOTH: Doesn’t mean he didn’t run away before. And when a kid runs away, someone reports him missing. A school, a neighbor, someone.

BRENNAN: We were looking at the wrong database.

(Cut to: Angela’s office, Brennan and Angela are talking. The image of the victim is blown up on the computer screen)

BRENNAN: We need to reverse the cranio-facial growth patterns and run the results against the missing children’s database.

ANGELA: Send him back to childhood, huh?

BRENNAN: Retain the cranial proportion, but reduce the jaw, narrow the neck, and raise the ears. Change the proportion of the head to one part facial mass to two and a quarter parts cranial mass. Decrease the size of the upper and lower jaw. Done. (Angela adjusts the proportions per Brennan’s suggestions)

ANGELA: It’s hard to believe that ten years from this, he’s going to be stealing IDs and getting himself killed. (she runs the image through the database and a match pops up) Ok, that’s him. We found him.

(Cut to: Booth’s office. A TV clip is playing on the computer, and Booth and Sweets are watching)

TV ANNOUNCER: Nine year old Liam is tonight’s Thursday’s Child.

LIAM: I like all kinds of sports, but mostly basketball, even though I’m kinda short. But maybe I’ll grow, right? And I’m really good at math, ‘cause I like numbers.

TV ANNOUNCER: If Liam can find a family, all those numbers are sure to add up to one very bright future.

BOOTH: ‘Kay, that sounds a little like puppy adoptions if you ask me.

SWEETS: Well, when I was in the foster system, we used to think that the kids who got on Thursday’s Child won the lottery, you know? One day, they’re on TV, next day, big car pulls up to take them to the suburbs. Every single time.

BOOTH: Yeah, well, Liam didn’t get adopted, would’ve saved the juvie system a whole helluva lot of time if he had. Court unsealed his records because of the murder (Booth picks up and drops back down on his desk a thick set of manila files); he was busted two years ago for b&e with another foster kid by the name of Hunter Lang (he opens the file to Lang’s charge sheet), we’re trying to track him down now.

SWEETS: Oh? Why?

BOOTH: Well, Liam testified against Hunter in exchange for a suspended sentence.

SWEETS: Oooh. That’s not good. Rule number one, foster kids stick together.

BOOTH: Huh. Well, is that the kind of thing a guy would kill for?

SWEETS: Depends on the guy. I know these kids, I’ll talk to ‘em, let you know.

(Cut to: Platform of the Medico-Legal Lab – Angela is recording information, Daisy is speaking as she approaches Angela from behind)

DAISY: Has anyone else noticed this is like a giant jigsaw without the edge pieces?

ANGELA: One person gets killed, and it’s murder, millions get killed and it’s history.

DAISY: I’m trying to just think of them as bones. It’s easier. Female, approximately 25.

ANGELA: Right here, Hany Beaufort. (she pauses in thought) Yeah, but they’re not just bones.

DAISY: What does that mean?

ANGELA: I’m going to need to borrow these skulls.

(Cam enters the platform area)

CAM: Why does no-one seem to be working on our murder victim, Ms. Wick?

DAISY: Still waiting on Dr. Hodgins.

(Cam sees the name tag on the skeleton and looks at the skeleton with a stunned look on her face.)

ANGELA: Are you ok?

CAM: I..it’s nothing. Hany…was my great-grandmother’s name. If you two can’t stay focused on the Moloney case, we’re going to have issues.

ANGELA: Well, we’re trying, but Hodgins is…

(Hodgins enters the platform area, yelling out triumphantly and carrying a box)

HODGINS: I got it! Thank you, Aquatic Nuisance Species Taskforce. A fine collection of marine biologists dedicated to making sure that if the alien ever shows up, jam it in an airlock and kiss it goodbye. (to Angela) Lost out on the name and rights, babe, but I’m a big boy, I can handle it.

CAM: So happy to hear that.

HODGINS: Turns out our little feathered friend is the osedax mucofloris, otherwise known as the bone-eating snot flower.

ANGELA (chuckles): You’ve gotta be kidding.

HODGINS: Not kidding. Allow me to demonstrate. (he opens the box, which contains cannoli) Voila.

CAM: Oh no.

HODGINS: Now, the bone-eating snot flower burrows into the bone like so (he takes a straw and blows off the wrapper, which hits Daisy in the face. He then pushes it through the shell of the cannoli): it cracks through the hard shell straight down to the fatty marrow, and then (he sucks through the straw). Now, each female has maybe a dozen dwarf males inside of her. Basically, sperm holders. (he offers around the cannoli he was eating to Daisy, Cam and Angela, all of whom have disgusted expressions on their faces) Cannoli? No? Anyone?

ANGELA: No, never again, I cannot even tell you.

CAM: Can you please get to the point?

HODGINS: I figured out how to remove ‘em (he grins, then takes a bite out of the cannoli).

(Cut to: Hoover Building, Sweets’ office)
(Door opens – Sweets is sitting in his chair, Daisy enters)

DAISY: You have to back me up with Dr. Brennan. She hasn’t said anything, but I know what she’s thinking. It’s an emergency.

SWEETS: Whoa. What am I supposed to say?

DAISY: You have to explain what happened this morning.

SWEETS: Sex is a normal part of the adult experience; you don’t need to apologize for it.

DAISY: Do you know what happened when I was little? (She takes a seat on the couch) My dad and I saw these two deer going at it on the side of a hill, and I asked him what they were doing. And he said the nice deer in back was pushing his friend up the hill.

SWEETS: Seriously?

DAISY (looks at Sweets expectantly): And now, we’re those deer, only no-one’s explaining that you were just pushing me uphill.

(Sweets says nothing, but looks perplexed)

DAISY: I have issues.

SWEETS: I had no idea. (He rises from his chair)

DAISY: You’re happy we broke up, aren’t you?

SWEETS: (Pacing his office) Look, Dr. Brennan is not a prude; I would suggest that she doesn’t even care that we had sex, just that it was right in front of her.

DAISY: That would be logical.

SWEETS: Not that it would ever come up again anyways. An anomaly. (He takes a seat next to Daisy on the couch)

DAISY: Totally.

SWEETS: But maybe there’s nothing wrong with that, if it did come up. I mean, just as long as it wasn’t here.

(Daisy nods)

SWEETS: Seems reasonable.

DAISY: Totally reasonable.

(They look at each other a moment and then begin frantically making out on the couch)

(Cut to: Marina. Booth, Brennan and Sweets are walking and talking)

BOOTH: So the parole officer didn’t have an address on Hunter Lang, but she said he works on a boat at the end of the dock called The Dandina.

SWEETS: You know, it’s possible he was drawn to the sea because the isolation mimics his childhood environment.

BOOTH: Nah, you’re overthinking this.

BRENNAN: There’s no such thing as overthinking. You may think incorrectly or inadequately or falsely, but the notion…

BOOTH: Ok, got it. Got it.

SWEETS: Ok, so since you guys both saw the “incident,” I’ve decided to take Agent Booth’s advice. Anyway, even though Daisy and I aren’t dating, I’ve decided we can still enjoy each other’s company, casually, once in a while.

BRENNAN: I’m not sure why I should care. Are you planning on having sex somewhere that I will witness it?

SWEETS: I hope not.

BRENNAN: Then I definitely don’t care.

BOOTH: I’m with her. (The trio approaches a larger boat with a sign saying “Welcome aboard the Cougar Cruise) Yeah, well, so much for that isolation theory, Mr. Expert on Foster Care.

BRENNAN: Well, I’ve heard about these events. They’re designed to facilitate intercourse between older women and younger men.

BOOTH: We got that, Bones.

NADIA: Hurry up, ladies, cosmos are waiting!

CAPTAIN: We’re ready to cast off.

NADIA: Oh, ok. Time to board!

BOOTH: Excuse me, we’re looking for Hunter Lang.

CAPTAIN: Uh, he’s one of our bartenders. (to the woman) They’re looking for Lang.

NADIA: Oh. Jealous husband?

BOOTH: FBI!

NADIA: Oh. Well, can this wait? We’ll be back by ten.

BOOTH: Yeah, how ‘bout we come with you?

NADIA: Only if he comes too (pointing to Sweets).

BOOTH: That was the plan. (Booth walks off to get on the boat)

NADIA: Done!

SWEETS: I’m sorry, what just happened there?

BRENNAN: If this were the Maluku’s, I’d say it was some sort of virgin offering.

SWEETS: Virgin?

BRENNAN: Quasi-virgin offering. (Brennan walks off, Sweets follows)

(The scene changes from late afternoon to nighttime. There is a shot of the ship all lit up, Latin music is playing)

(Cut to: Ship’s interior. The dance floor is filled with women dancing with younger men)

BRENNAN: The male guests seem to be enjoying themselves.

BOOTH: Oh, c’mon, are you kidding me? Look at this kid, he’s barely out of diapers.

BRENNAN: Wouldn’t you like to be on a boat full of nubile young women?

BOOTH: No.

SWEETS: The socially acceptable age difference is half plus eight. (Booth looks skeptical) C’mon, everyone knows that.

BRENNAN: They do not. If everyone knew that, Booth would know that.

BOOTH: Ok, so you’re ok with dating somebody who’s twenty?

SWEETS: Sure. If she were mature.

BRENNAN: That means that it would be well within the social norm for me to date a man of 24.

BOOTH (gesturing to Sweets): He’s 24, would you date him?

BRENNAN: Well, not literally.

SWEETS: I’m definitely getting the “look” here.

BOOTH: The look?

BRENNAN: The precursor to sexual overtures.

WOMAN (approaching Sweets): Let’s see what you’ve got.

(Another woman pinches Sweets’ behind)

SWEETS: Oh!

BOOTH (chuckling at Sweets’ obvious discomfort): All right, ladies, he’s got a curfew, he’s gotta be back by twelve.

SWEETS: You’re going to leave me?

BOOTH: Yeah.

(Booth and Brennan walk off, leaving Sweets to be manhandled by the group of women who have surrounded him)

SWEETS: Okay. Hi…

BRENNAN: The atmosphere here is very festive. (She reaches for a cocktail off the tray of a passing waiter) Thank you.

(Booth attempts to grab one for himself, but the waiter moves away before he has a chance)

BOOTH: Oh, uh, thanks, I’m fine, no need. I’m working.

BRENNAN: Anthropologically speaking…

BOOTH: Yeah?

BRENNAN: Women were attracted to older men because they could take care of them. The world has changed; these women can take care of themselves.

BOOTH: Yeah, right, well it’s just wrong, that’s all, it’s just wrong.

BRENNAN: Why? Because it’s hard on men like you, who are past their prime?

BOOTH: Whuh, I’m not past my prime.

BRENNAN: Prime is eighteen.

BOOTH: Okay, maybe just a little. (Brennan walks off, Booth notices someone behind the bar) Hey, Bones, that’s Hunter Lang.

(Brennan is now conversing with a young man)

BRENNAN: The posterior surface of your forearm is absolutely magnificent.

GUY: Thanks. I work out.

BOOTH: You can work out somewhere else, she’s not interested, okay? (To Brennan) C’mon.

BRENNAN: Don’t be so hasty.

BOOTH (laughs incredulously): Are you kidding me? Hasty?

GUY: Who’s the old dude?

BOOTH: I’m her partner.

BRENNAN: He’s my partner.

BOOTH: She’s too old for you and too young for you, all at the same time.

BRENNAN: I think what he’s trying to tell you is that I haven’t yet reached my sexual prime.

GUY: I have. Definitely.

BOOTH: Definitely. (He grabs Brennan’s drink from her) Give me this, right now, ‘kay? C’mon. Sweets! (He heads over to where Sweets is) We’re working, put the drink down.

SWEETS: I’m trying!

BOOTH: Here, have this. (He hands the drink to one of the women) Lock your lips around that, sweetheart. (To Sweets) C’mon, this way.

WOMAN (in the background): Want me to tuck you in?

(Cut to: Ship’s bar. Sweets and Booth are talking to Lang)

SWEETS: I know you had it rough, Hunter. I was a foster kid too.

HUNTER (smirks): Sure you were.

SWEETS: How many foster homes did you live in?

HUNTER: Eleven? Twelve? Who keeps track?

SWEETS: I did. Four places, by the time I was six. Not something you forget.

HUNTER: Yeah? What was your score?

SWEETS (explaining to Booth): Supervision score. One means doesn’t need supervision, five means bring out the meds and lock ‘em down. (to Hunter) Makes it easy on the check cashers, huh? (to Booth again) That’s what we called foster parents. (back to Hunter) I was a two.

HUNTER: I was a four. Real pain in the ass.

BOOTH: Great. So what was the deal with you and Liam Moloney?

HUNTER: Uh, no deal, no deal. And I’m not saying that because he’s dead.

BOOTH: He testified against you.

HUNTER: I got over it. Are we done yet?

BOOTH: No.

SWEETS: Kids I was placed with, we leaned on each other. If one of those kids betrayed me, that would hurt. A lot.

HUNTER: Look, what Liam did, I was like, whatever, you know? We talked about it when I got out of juvie, and it’s all good, no big.

BOOTH: So when was the last time you saw him?

HUNTER: Labor Day. Yeah, he was uh, he was working the cougars. You see, most of the guys that come here, they come for the free booze, the easy sex, but not Liam. He was smarter than that. He used to get the extras from the old ladies, like, uh, money, gifts…

BOOTH: Are you aware of an issue that happened between Liam and a guy named Mike Casper?

HUNTER: No, I’m not.

BOOTH: Okay, on Labor Day, did you two leave together?

HUNTER: No, no, he must’ve bailed when I was cleaning up. Ask Nadia. She’d know.

BOOTH: Why’s that?

HUNTER: Well, he was one of her favorites. Yeah, Liam’d always show up with a carful of cubs, Nadia would get her boy bit, and then Liam would have all the cougars he could handle.

SWEETS: How many would that be?

HUNTER: C’mon man. He’s nineteen. Was nineteen. Look, can I get back to work here?

BOOTH (to Sweets): Listen, I’m going to go find Bones, talk to Nadia, you get the rest of his information, all right?

SWEETS: Yeah.

(Booth walks off, a woman grabs him by the arm)

WOMAN: Hello there.

BOOTH (looks around, surprised): Me?

WOMAN: Aren’t you a scrumptious little tidbit.

BOOTH: Oh, no no, okay? In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t really fit this demographic.

WOMAN: Nuh uh, you’ve got it all wrong, sugar. Why would I want to be with them when I can be with you?

(Booth gives a nervous smile and a slight laugh but says nothing)

(Cut to: Jeffersonian, Ookey Room. Hodgins is bending over the tank, which is bubbling)

HODGINS: I just needed to know what they were. Now, I know what’ll eat ‘em. Piranhas.

(Daisy gives Hodgins a stunned look of surprise, he begins to pour the fish into the tank)

DAISY: And they won’t damage the bones?

HODGINS: Nope! The bubbles agitate the water and encourage them to feed.

DAISY: May I ask you a personal question, Dr. Hodgins?

HODGINS: No. I have got a beautiful wife, a fulfilling job, and I just figured out how to remove snot flowers. I’m gonna go ahead and savor the moment here, Ms. Wick.

DAISY: Wow!

HODGINS (reaching into the tank): Oof! Ahh! (pulls out a bone) Ha ha! (he hands the bone to Daisy) Perfection!

DAISY: That’s curious. There are significant abrasions to the bone. Can I see that ulna?

HODGINS: One ulna, coming right up. Ahh! (he hands the bone to Daisy) Whoo!

DAISY: (She lays the bones down on a tray and bends down for a closer look) They look like kerf marks, but they don’t go into the bone, they go along the bone, and the staining says they’re definitely perimortem.

HODGINS: (leaning in close to observe as well) Well, I’ll swab ‘em and see what we got.

DAISY: The abrasions are everywhere, all along the anterior surface of the bones.

HODGINS: You know, I know it’s one of the few areas of my non-expertise, but does it look to you like somebody attacked our dead guy with a grater?

(Hodgins and Daisy look at each other, both equally baffled)

(Cut to: Cruise ship)

(Brennan is on her phone)

BRENNAN: I understand, yes. Goodbye, Ms. Wick. (Booth approaches her)

BOOTH: So what’d the lab say?

BRENNAN: The victim was attacked by a sharp, pierced object with multiple grooves, some kind of very large grater.

BOOTH: Hmm. Before or after getting hooked like a fish?

BRENNAN: I have no way of knowing that until I examine the bones.

BOOTH: You know what, we gotta find the party planner around here.

BRENNAN: She throws a very good party. I enjoyed my conversation.

BOOTH: What, with the zygote?

BRENNAN: He’s charming. He likes long walks on the beach and he enjoys watching the sunset.

BOOTH: That’s a line, Bones, all right, they’re lines. You’re what they call prime real estate around here.

BRENNAN: Well, I’m prime real estate anywhere.

BOOTH: Never, never mind. Hey, Captain, have you seen Nadia Blake?

CAPTAIN: Uh, probably below deck (he takes a sip of his “coffee”)

BOOTH: Whoo, that’s some uh, fragrant coffee you got there.

CAPTAIN: Heh. I brewed it myself, uh, gotta keep sharp.

(Booth and Brennan walk off in search of Nadia Blake)

(Cut to: Deck of the cruise ship)

BOOTH: Hey, Bones, our guy was hooked through the mouth like a fish, right?

BRENNAN: Uh huh.

BOOTH (gesturing to an object): That fit the bill? (The object is a harpoon-like device)

BRENNAN: The shape is consistent with the damage to the palatine bone and the cribriform plate.

BOOTH: Right, whatever that means. But, could be our murder weapon, right? Yeah.

BRENNAN: We have to bring it back to the lab and test it for trace evidence.

(Booth has begun walking down the outdoor passageway towards something that has caught his attention)

BOOTH: Hey, Bones, this be our grater?

BRENNAN: It is if it corresponds to the abrasions on the bones.

BOOTH: Which means Liam Moloney didn’t make it off this boat alive.

(He opens a door, they head in, going down stairs to below deck. They hear the sound of glass crashing)

NADIA: (from inside) Don’t!

BOOTH: I got it. (He pulls his gun and busts open the door)

NADIA: Stop it!

BOOTH: FREEZE!

(Nadia is in the bed with one of the boys)

NADIA: I mean it! (Looking up at Booth) Do you mind?

BOOTH: Okay, come on, cover up, need to ask you a few questions about Liam Moloney.

NADIA: (sighs) You mind if I get dressed first?

BOOTH: You got sixty seconds.

(Brennan notices insects on the floor and goes to investigate)

BRENNAN: Look!

BOOTH: Whaddya got, Bones?

NADIA: What happened to my sixty seconds?

BRENNAN: Maggots. Most likely blowfly maggots, indicating that at some recent point, there was rotting flesh here.

BOOTH (to the boy toy): Okay, you, pony boy, let’s go, out, c’mon. Here you go.

BRENNAN: You need a key to open this lock.

BOOTH: Bones, excuse me.

BRENNAN: What?

(Booth kicks open the closet door)

NADIA (gasps): You people are crazy!

BOOTH (opening the closet): Look at that.

BRENNAN: (turns on her flashlight and peers at the maggots) You said Liam was last seen on this boat?

BOOTH: I’m thinking that uh, he was killed and stashed in here until they got out far enough to dump the body, what do you think?

BRENNAN: I think you’re right.

(Booth gives Nadia a look, she looks displeased and continues getting dressed)

(Cut to: Interrogation room, FBI. Booth is there with Sweets and Nadia)

BOOTH: Last time Liam was seen alive was on one of your cruises, ‘bout a month ago?

NADIA: Okay, I don’t keep track of the boys who go on my cruises, my God, that’d be a full-time job.

SWEETS: As opposed to arranging hookups.

NADIA: For a cop, he certainly knows how to take the romance out of things.

BOOTH: We’re not talking about him, we’re talking about you. So, middle-aged women pay you to hookup with younger guys?

NADIA: No, they don’t. They pay to go on my cruises. What they do when they get off is up to them.

BOOTH: Right, well one of your guests ended up fish food at the bottom of the sea. I’m not seeing the romance in that.

SWEETS: And he usually does, which means there really isn’t any.

NADIA: Hey, I liked Liam! He was very good for business.

BOOTH: Yeah, you took advantage of a kid who didn’t have a mother. You basically fed him older women.

NADIA: He needed mature companionship, and my ladies needed a fresh face.

SWEETS: And youthful physique.

NADIA: Exactly.

BOOTH: Y’know, there are plenty of guys in their thirties and forties who have youthful physiques.

SWEETS: Yeah. Yeah.

BOOTH: Yeah.

SWEETS (more to Booth than to Nadia): It’s different. Not in a bad way, but…

NADIA: Yeah in a bad way.

BOOTH: You’re not helping your case.

NADIA: Something happened to Liam that night, I have no idea what it is.

BOOTH: Guy was stuffed in a fish locker. In a cabin that you seem to spend a lot of your “quality” time in.

NADIA: Okay, how could I put him in a locker I don’t even have the key to?

BOOTH: Who has the key?

NADIA: Well, Captain Kelly. Maybe it’s him you should be talking to.

(Cut to: Jeffersonian, Hodgins’ Lab)

(Cam enters the lab, seeking Hodgins)

CAM: Do you have the results back on the maggots from the cougar cruise?

HODGINS (peering intently at the computer screen): Maggots are next on my list.

CAM (sighs in exasperated fashion): Ms. Wick has already confirmed the murder weapon, everyone else is working on the slave ship, which makes you the clog in my drain, Dr. Hodgins.

HODGINS: Still trying to figure out the trace from those bone scrapes – it’s very strange and sticky. Three primary proteins, including a trypsin-like serine protease.

CAM: This is my ‘what the hell are you talking about’ look.

HODGINS: It’s a waterproof marine epoxy.

(Cam points to her face again)

HODGINS: Glue.

CAM: Why would the victim have glue on his bones?

HODGINS: (taking a seat) Yeah, that’s exactly what’s got me stumped.

CAM: Ponder it while you put the maggots in the blender. Hopefully you can pull enough DNA to prove that Liam Moloney was in that locker. (She turns and leaves)

HODGINS: After he was dead, but before he got tossed overboard. I’m on it.

(Cut to: Interrogation Room, FBI – Booth and Brennan are interrogating Captain Kelly)

BRENNAN: (Sliding across the DMV record for Liam Moloney) Your boat hook killed him, his name is Liam Moloney.

CAPTAIN: I seen him before, but I barely know the guy. Why would I kill him?

(Electronic beeping noises are heard in the background, Brennan looks down at her phone)

BOOTH: You tell me, I mean, you got a wife, captain, she hook up with Moloney?

CAPTAIN: Oh please, I’d have paid him.

(Brennan is checking her phone, and has messages from Hodgins and Daisy)

BOOTH (to Brennan): Would you knock it off with that?

BRENNAN: They’re from Ms. Wick and Hodgins, and it appears to be urgent.

BOOTH: All right, just get on with it, all right, be quick.

(Brennan resumes checking her messages)

CAPTAIN: She doesn’t really listen to you, does she?

BOOTH: That’s really none of your business.

(Captain chuckles)

(Booth turns to face Brennan, sitting down on the table)

BRENNAN: Dr. Hodgins blended the maggots. They don’t have remnants of human DNA, they have monocalcium paracaseinate.

BOOTH: Which means? Explain!

BRENNAN: Cheese.

BOOTH: What?!

BRENNAN: The maggots ate cheese, not Moloney.

(Captain bursts out laughing)

BOOTH: (rising and turning to the Captain) Okay, you, that’s not funny.

CAPTAIN: Yeah, it is. Look, I don’t just do the horny broad cruises, I do gourmet parties once a month.

BOOTH: Your point is?

CAPTAIN: Last week’s dinner, there was a bunch of this, uh, y’know, uh, illegal Italian cheese. I took one.

BRENNAN (chuckles): Ohh, I see.

BOOTH: No, I don’t. What does Italian cheese have to do with maggots?

BRENNAN: There’s a traditional Sardinian sheep-milk cheese called Casu Marzu , it is riddled with live insect larvae.

CAPTAIN: Look, I told you, I, I had nothing to do with this.

BOOTH: All right, all right, do you remember seeing this guy on the Labor Day cougar cruise?

CAPTAIN (sighs): I mighta seen him out on deck with a woman. Nobody goes out on deck on account of the bar’s inside.

BRENNAN: Can you describe her?

CAPTAIN: Well, I was um, little under the weather.

BOOTH (scoffs): Drunk.

CAPTAIN: A…possibility.

BRENNAN: Then how are we going to get a description?

(Cut to: Jeffersonian, Angela’s office)

(Angela is sitting on the ground, sketching the faces that belong to the skulls of the remains found on the slave ship. She is deeply focused on her task. After a time, Hodgins comes to her office and stands in the doorway, watching her)

HODGINS: Somebody forget about lunch?

ANGELA: Oh, I’m..I…how long have I been sitting here?

HODGINS: Hours. I had a Caesar salad, with a side of Ms. Wick. We talked about Sardinian cheese at length. (He comes to sit down next to Angela on a chair)

ANGELA (laughs): I’m so sorry, babe. I totally lost track.

HODGINS: No, these are amazing, Angie. You’re doing a sketch for every set of remains?

ANGELA: Kind of feel like I have to.

HODGINS: You also have to eat. I mean, you’re growing a baby, remember?

ANGELA: Well yeah, but he was somebody’s baby too (gesturing to the sketch she is working on, of a young boy), and I want our baby to know that. (She looks up to see Hodgins smiling at her) Oh, wow, I sound like a crazy woman, don’t I?

HODGINS: Actually, you’re sounding like a mom.

ANGELA: Oh, crap, already?

HODGINS: Yup.

ANGELA: Then I should take that sandwich.

HODGINS: ‘kay. Keep working, I’m on it. You want a peanut butter and egg salad?

ANGELA: Yes, I know, pregnancy is so weird. I love you.

HODGINS: Love you too. (They kiss) Even the charcoal-y bits.

(Cut to: Booth’s office. Brennan, Sweets, Booth and the Captain are all there, Sweets is pouring a glass of scotch)

SWEETS: Three separate studies suggest this is a very effective method. It’s called state-dependent learning. (Captain takes a drink) If we want him to remember when he was drunk, we just have to get him drunk.

BOOTH: Right. Is this really going to work?

BRENNAN: Memories are anchored in internal contexts.

SWEETS: Yeah, for example, if I had a drink, I would instantly remember Daisy, and how champagne just makes her eyes sparkle.

BOOTH: Sweets? Is he drunk enough already?

(Captain attempts to put his arm on the armrest of the chair but misses)

SWEETS: I’d say yes.

BOOTH: Okay, let’s just focus here, all right? Labor Day cruise, Liam Moloney’s on the deck with a woman, can you describe her?

CAPTAIN: Hmmm.

SWEETS: He’s confused. For example, if I were to describe Daisy, I’d say she was 5’5”, beautiful brown hair…

BOOTH: Oh, for God’s sake, Sweets!

SWEETS: What?

CAPTAIN: I remember! Her hair was red, and she kept uh, flicking it.

BRENNAN: Booth! That sounds just like…

BOOTH: Claire Casper.

BRENNAN: The wife of the man whose identity Liam stole.

BOOTH (to Sweets): Get his keys.

SWEETS: Why?

BOOTH: We gotta go solve a murder. Just give him two aspirin and put him in a cab, all right?

(Booth and Brennan exit, Sweets removes the glass from the Captain’s hand)

CAPTAIN: Wai, wai, wai, wai, wait!

(Cut to: FBI interrogation room, Booth is with Claire Casper)

BOOTH: We got witnesses, and they all put you on the Labor Day cougar cruise.

CLAIRE: Big whoop. I go on a lot of party cruises, they’re a fun night out.

BOOTH: Fun night out with Liam Moloney?

CLAIRE: All right, you really want me to say this. Liam and I hooked up a few months ago. He used to come by the house when Mike was at work.

BOOTH: Ahh, okay, so when Mike’s ID got stolen, you realized it was Liam. Could’ve been real easy for him, all he had to do was grab some mail. That must’ve really pissed you off.

CLAIRE: You think I care? Boy went like a hot little pipe.

BOOTH: Oh, you definitely cared, because your whole little world was about to come crumbling down. You went on that cruise looking for him, didn’t you. What’d he say? Threaten to tell your husband about the affair?

CLAIRE: (leaning in close to Booth) I didn’t kill Liam. And there’s nothing you can do to prove different.

(Cut to: Jeffersonian, Cam’s desk. She is looking through the manifest from the slave ship. She closes the book and takes a deep breath. Angela enters)

ANGELA: Hey! We’re uh, almost wrapped up.

CAM: Yeah, Booth called, he thinks Claire Casper did it, but there’s no evidence to tie her to the crime.

ANGELA: No, I was actually, I was talking about the Amalia Rose. The remains have been identified and they’re moving them into the exhibit. The press conference is tomorrow.

CAM: Great.

ANGELA: Not that this is any of my business, but um, I sort of thought that you’d be more interested.

CAM (gives a small laugh): Interested, is that what I’m supposed to be?

ANGELA: I just thought...

CAM: That because I’m black, I should be all over this.

(Angela looks uncertain how to reply)

CAM: I already know what happened. My family were property, along with about fifteen million other Africans, they were traded like cattle, and they died like cattle, and I am trying really hard not to let those bones out there get to me.

ANGELA: I’m sorry, Cam, I should’ve been more sensitive.

CAM: It’s fine, it’s all good.

(Hodgins enters)

HODGINS: Hey, so, new developments…am I interrupting?

CAM: No, uh, what’s going on?

HODGINS: I ran a couple more tests, and the sticky stuff on the bone abrasions wasn’t marine epoxy, it’s barnacle secretion.

(Cam looks puzzled)

HODGINS: I think I know what happened.

(Cut to: Platform of the Medico-Legal Lab. Hodgins is leading, followed by Daisy, Angela and Cam)

HODGINS: Now, imagine this platform is the party boat, and I am Liam Moloney.

DAISY: And I’m Claire Casper, sexually predatory suburban housewife.

HODGINS: Right, okay, so, Moloney and Claire, they struggle.

(Hodgins and Daisy pretend to attack each other)

HODGINS: Now, Moloney, he’s strong.

DAISY: We know that from the bone attachments.

HODGINS: But Claire, she’s got rage on her side.

DAISY: And I shove him overboard (Hodgins goes flying over the railing).

ANGELA: Hey! (She and Cam rush over to see if Hodgins is okay)

(Hodgins beams up at them from a mattress and cushions on the floor)

HODGINS: Don’t worry, we thought this through! Moloney, he tries to climb back on board (Hodgins gets up and attempts to start climbing the railing of the platform), scraping himself on the barnacles, but Claire, she grabs the boat hook (Daisy grabs an improvised boat hook made from a broom).

CAM: And stabs him straight through the mouth.

HODGINS (holding on to the pretend boat hook): Uh huh.

DAISY: The hook tore through his palate, into the frontal lobe, fracturing his front teeth as it was removed (she releases the “hook” and Hodgins falls back onto the mattress).

(Hodgins and Daisy look at Cam and Angela; Daisy sighs a little from the exertion, Angela looks at Cam, who looks troubled)

ANGELA: What’s wrong?

CAM: If the abrasions to Liam Moloney’s skeleton were caused by the barnacles on the boat, there may be evidence in the barnacles.

HODGINS: And that is why I sent the techs out to the marina to check the boat.

(Cut to: Hodgins’ lab. He is showing Brennan images on the computer screen)

HODGINS: Barnacles grow at a prescribed rate. We dated these little ones back to the night Liam Moloney disappeared.

BRENNAN: He tried to climb back up the side of the hull, in the process, breaking off the barnacles and lacerating himself down to the bone.

HODGINS: Yeah, and, these baby barnacles grew in their place.

(Cam enters)

CAM: DNA’s back from the blood we found under those barnacles. There’s two types: one is consistent with Liam Moloney, the other’s a match for Claire Casper.

BRENNAN: She must’ve gotten cut when they struggled.

CAM: Booth wanted evidence, looks like we got it.

(Cut to: Interrogation Room, FBI)

(Booth is confronting Claire Casper)

BOOTH: A jury’s going to believe this, Claire. We got you.

CLAIRE: It was an accident. I…I told Liam I knew what he did. We started fighting. My glass broke, and I got cut – I looked down and saw blood, and I got so mad, I shoved him. He…went over.

BOOTH: Into the ocean.

CLAIRE: I grabbed the boat hook to get him, I was gonna pull him out.

BOOTH: Then what happened?

CLAIRE: He called me a…desperate old hag. And I never thought of myself as old until then. And I, I grabbed the boat hook, and I swung it up, and caught him in the mouth.

BOOTH: Just like a fish.

CLAIRE: I…wanted him to die, Agent Booth, but I…I didn’t want to kill him.

(Booth says nothing, but shakes his head slightly)

(Cut to: shot of DC at night, then the Royal Diner. Sweets and Daisy are sitting at the counter)

SWEETS: Here’s the thing. As much as it pains me to say, I don’t like casual sex.

DAISY: You don’t?

SWEETS: I mean, I like sex, I love sex, okay, I just, I don’t only want to spend time with you ‘cause I’m getting my freak on.

DAISY: I like giving you the freak.

SWEETS: If you want to keep seeing me, we need to have a substantive conversation, and shared interests.

DAISY: Well, that should be easy, I mean, we have lots in common.

SWEETS: Okay, like what?

DAISY: We both love Indian food.

SWEETS: Can’t stand it, only ate it for you.

DAISY: Really?

SWEETS: Uh huh. What about travel?

DAISY: Since the Malukus, I’m totally over it.

SWEETS: Hiking?

DAISY: Hate it. Dogs? I love dogs.

SWEETS: I’m allergic.

(They fall into silence, both looking despondent at what this means for them)

DAISY: Remember that time when you had the flu, and we stayed in bed and watched the Saved by the Bell marathon?

SWEETS: Yeah, and we decided we dislike Jessie because she’s so smart and ambitious, right?

DAISY: And you were like Screech, ‘cause he was the geeky genius.

SWEETS: But they never hooked up.

DAISY: Which they totally should have.

SWEETS: Right? ‘Cause they had more in common than they realized.

(They look at each other, and Daisy nods silently)

DAISY: We could watch it again.

SWEETS: I have issues with the last season.

DAISY: Me too!

(They smile at each other)

SWEETS: Daisy.

DAISY: Lancelot.

(They embrace)

(Cut to: Shots of DC, then the Jeffersonian, where the press conference about the Amalia Rose is being held)

CAM: These people were wrenched from their homeland, and disappeared into the cold seas of the Atlantic, forgotten, until today. We’re very proud to announce that, thanks to the hard work of the Jeffersonian staff, the remains found on the Amalia Rose have been matched with the names on the manifest, and they will be buried at the Great Oak Cemetery in Maryland, but their names and faces will live on here, at the Jeffersonian. Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to present the victims of the Amalia Rose.

(She begins to read out the names as the faces Angela sketched are displayed on the screens surrounding her)

Pollodore Nelson.

Barbury Page.

Jim, no last name.

Abraham Fox.

(She looks down at the paper she is reading from and hesitates, struggling to master her emotions)

Hany…Hany…(she exhales, audibly) Hany Beaufort.

Bartlett Nelson.

Isaiah Nelson.

Rebecca, no last name.

Cain Dawson.

Eliza, no last name.

Georgiana Pickett.

Clarence Stark.

Dilly Stark.

Franklin, no last name.

(Fade to black, credits roll)

END.