04x08 - The Skull In the Sculpture

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Bones". Aired September 2005 - March 2017.*
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A forensic anthropologist and a cocky FBI agent build a team to investigate death causes. And quite often, there isn't more to examine than rotten flesh or mere bones.
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04x08 - The Skull In the Sculpture

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"The Skull in the Sculpture"
Episode 4x08 / Production 4x03
Airdate: November 5, 2008
Written By: Janet Lin
Directed by: Allan Kroeker
Transcribed by: tharensolo

Disclaimer: The characters, plotlines, quotes, etc. included here are owned by Hart Hanson, all rights reserved. This transcript is not authorized or endorsed by Hart Hanson or Fox.

(Open: Junk yard. Two drunken guys are climbing a fence with barbed wire)

CHUNKY: My dad thinks I'm selfish, so I want to steal him some spare parts for his birthday.

DUANE: You're a good son, man.

CHUNKY: Hey, dude, I'm not moving.

DUANE: Dude, your jacket is caught on the barbed wire. Bounce around a little bit, and you'll come loose.

CHUNKY: (falls to the ground. laughs) That worked great.

(The two begin staggering around stacks of compressed vehicles)

DUANE: So, what kind of car does he have?

CHUNKY: Old one. Toyota FJ-40. He loves that thing. More than me, that's for sure.

DUANE: Check it out!

CHUNKY: Oh, wow! (The two run towards a stack of cars) Can you imagine if I gave him that golden side mirror? I could glue it on his truck. (begins pulling out side mirror) Got to be gentle. It's coming. (Mirror comes off and blood begins to run out of the car)

DUANE: The car is bleeding.

CHUNKY: There's something back there.

(Pulls out sheet of glass to reveal a skull. Both scream.)

(Cut to a restaurant bar. Sweets is sitting at the bar. Angela walks up)

ANGELA: Okay, look, just to be clear, I asked you out for a drink to talk, not because I'm desperate for male company.

SWEETS: You think of me as male company?

WAITER: (off camera) Can I get you anything?

ANGELA: Vodka up, please. And my grandson here will have another of whatever that is.

SWEETS: Oh, sidecar, but no, I'm fine. Okay, one more, one more. I'm cabbing it. (turns to Angela who is now leaning on the bar facing the rest of the room) You just got divorced and broke up with your fiancé. It's totally understandable that you don't feel like sex.

ANGELA: I feel like sex.

SWEETS: Oh.

ANGELA: Sex is what I feel like. Now, I could jump Hodgins, but doesn't seem fair somehow. Do you agree?

SWEETS: Well, what matters is that it doesn't seem fair to you.

ANGELA: Oh, I hate it when shrinks do that.

(both turn back to the bar)

ANGELA: Look, I've been alone now for quite a while, which is not like me.

SWEETS: Yeah, well, when we open ourselves emotionally and get hurt, we're reluctant to allow ourselves to be that vulnerable again.

ANGELA: It's been, like, six weeks.

SWEETS: That's a-a...

ANGELA: Long time.

SWEETS: (looks down uncomfortably) Yes, of course it is.

ANGELA: The longest I've gone without since I lost my virginity. At age 16.

SWEETS: Hmm.

ANGELA: Which is the normal age.

SWEETS: Sometimes older is just fine, too.

ANGELA: I'm not promiscuous, Sweets. I don't sleep with just anybody. I do require an emotional connection. Spiritual, actually.

SWEETS: Mm-hmm.

ANGELA: It's spiritual to me. And fun, of course. Who doesn't like sex, right?

SWEETS: Hey! Didn't we order these drinks a long time ago?

ANGELA: You're right.

SWEETS: (looks at Angela in surprise) About what?

ANGELA: I have been protecting myself. Without the risk of pain, there can be no possibility of pleasure or joy or love.

SWEETS: Yes, yes, and-and regaining that willingness to take a risk-- that can take time.

ANGELA: No.

SWEETS: No?

ANGELA: I am done protecting myself. I'm ready to move on. You're good.

SWEETS: Hey.

(both turn back to the bar as the waiter brings their drinks)

ANGELA: You really are.

WAITER: Here you go SWEETS: Thank you.

ANGELA: (raising her glass for a toast) To love, huh? And joy. (they clink glasses. Angela raises her voice and looks around) And sex!

(Sweets laughs awkwardly)

(Cut to the Medico-Legal-Lab - in front of Forensics Platform. Brennan and Hodgins are looking at the crushed car with the skull as Cam, Daisey, and Angela stand behind them. Hodgins is using a flashlight.)

HODGINS: Looks like someone with a crooked nose was trying to get rid of our friend here.

BRENNAN: There's no way to know that the k*ller had a crooked nose.

DAISY: You mean, the mob? It was a mob hit.

CAM: He clearly wasn't wearing a seat belt.

HODGINS: We're going to need the Jaws of Life to pry this guy out of here.

(Cam and Hodgins begin walking around the car)

BRENNAN: No. That could compromise the remains.

DAISY: It seems that any viable examination pre-extraction is impossible, unless somebody has X-ray vision. (laughs awkwardly)

CAM: (to Brennan) I meant to warn you that Ms. Wick came up in the rotation.

DAISY: This time you'll be glad I'm here, Dr. Brennan, I promise.

(Brennan and Angela exchange a look of annoyance)

DAISY: The height of the nasal root points to a Caucasian. The large brow ridges suggest a male.

BRENNAN: We need cause of death.

(Angela begins to walk around the car)

DAISY: Of the Caucasian male? What can be seen of the temporal, zygomatic and frontal bones indicates that they're in multiple fragments, possibly from the crushing of the car.

CAM: We have access to blood and fluids. I'll run a tox screen.

BRENNAN: (begins to walk around car. All four are now on seperate sides) Booth is checking the records at the junkyard to see who brought in the car and when it was processed.

HODGINS: I'll use an endoscope to retrieve any particulates without disturbing the remains.

(Brennan's cell rings. She answers and walks away)

BRENNAN: Brennan.

ANGELA: (to Hodgins) Hey, have you been seeing anybody?

HODGINS: Listen, I don't want to be rude, but I just don't think that's any of your business.

ANGELA: I haven't.

HODGINS: Me, either.

ANGELA: But I'm going to start.

HODGINS: Right, yeah. Me, too. I mean, like, right away.

ANGELA: Sweets agrees that it's time.

HODGINS: Sweets?

ANGELA: We shouldn't fear putting our hearts out there.

HODGINS: Sweets.

DAISY: That's so beautiful.

CAM: And so inappropriate over a decomposing body.

(Brennan walks by)

BRENNAN: Booth found out who delivered the car to the junkyard for crushing.

(Cut to sidewalk at night. Booth and Brennan come walking around the corner)

BOOTH: Invoice was made out to B & B Enterprises. This was the sixth car that was crushed and sent back to this address.

BRENNAN: Oh, so you think there might be five more bodies?

BOOTH: Well, you know what? If this is mob-related, and we bring down the big boys...

BRENNAN: Yeah.

BOOTH:...we will sell the movie rights for a fortune.

BRENNAN: But what if it's not the mob?

BOOTH: Come on. Do the math, Bones.

BRENNAN: Well, the math wouldn't indicate motive or identify a suspect. And you haven't even provided enough variables...

BOOTH: It's a figure of speech, Bones, all right?

(They stop in front of a building)

BOOTH: Here we are. Woah, woah, woah, woah (pulls Brennan back who was walking towards stairs) What goes first?

BRENNAN: g*n goes first.

BOOTH: That's right.

(They start walking up the stairs)

BRENNAN: But if you get sh*t?

BOOTH: Don't say things like that. You're gonna jinx me, all right?

BRENNAN: Well, if you're relying on superstition for safety, perhaps I should carry the g*n.

BOOTH: (stopping in front of a set of glass doors) No, you are definitely not carrying a g*n.(pulls out lock pick) Give me some space, all right? (leans down and begins to pick the lock)

BRENNAN: Is that legal?

BOOTH: Look, if anybody asks, the door was open.

BRENNAN: (whispering) No, it isn't. (Booth looks at her and she realizes what he means) Ah... Right. (Booth pulls out g*n and they enter)

(cut to the interior of the building. More crushed cars are in the room as they enter. Movement is heard in the background. A woman comes from a room around the corner)

BOOTH: Okay, what the hell are you supposed to be?

BRENNAN: (pointing at the ground) Booth?

BOOTH: What?

(camera cuts to show a large blood stain)

BRENNAN: Look at this.

BOOTH: What is it?

HELEN: Blood.

(cut to opening credits)

(Cut to: In a gallery. Camera pans over more crushed vehicles and an image of Geoffrey. FBI forensics team is working throughout the room. Brennan is looking at a video while Booth looks at a sculpture nearby)

BRENNAN: The artist did a series of six sculptures over the past two years.

BOOTH: (holding a pamplet) Sculptures? Whoa. These things are going for hundreds of thousands of dollars.

BRENNAN: (as they begin to walk through the room) All cultures put a great value on art.

BOOTH: Yeah, art. A nice bowl of fruit, uh, dogs playing poker. If I sold all the crap that was in my garage, I could retire. I'd make a fortune.

(They stop by a sculpture. Helen is standing in front of them)

HELEN: Geoffrey's work is a brilliant examination of consumerism and the destruction of the soul.

BRENNAN: I see twisted metal.

HELEN: Well, you need to look beneath the surface.

BOOTH: Oh, we did, and we found a dead body, which is exactly why you're not going anywhere.

(FBI tech Marcus Geier walks up)

MARCUS: Agent Booth?

BOOTH: Yeah.

MARCUS: The luminol is showing evidence of blood all over the floor.

HELEN: Of course it is.

BOOTH: Excuse me?

HELEN: Kiko was here.

BOOTH: Kiko?

HELEN: Kiko, the performance artist. Pig's blood is an integral and crucial part of her work.

BRENNAN: Is that even legal?

BOOTH: Well, we'll decide what's pig and what isn't. Pull some samples.

MARCUS: Okay. (walks away)

HELEN: I've already called my lawyer.

BOOTH: That's great. Tell him to meet you down at the FBI offices.

HELEN:(laughing) Oh, I didn't call him for me. You see how much these works are worth. You are liable for any damages.

BOOTH: (laughing) Damage?

BRENNAN: They're crushed cars.

BOOTH: They're wrecks.

HELEN: Fortunately, your ignorance and lack of appreciation of Geoffrey's work don't affect its value.

BOOTH: (to the room at large) Okay, all right, guys. Careful handling the junk. Apparently, it is art. All right?

ROXIE: (walking into the room and stopping to address Booth and Brennan) Uh, perhaps I could help? I'm Roxie Lyon, Geoffrey Thorne's assistant.

BRENNAN: Does the artist make a habit of encasing corpses within his sculptures?

ROXIE: Excuse me?

BOOTH: Well, we found one of these crushed cars and traced it back here to this address.

MARCUS: (walking back over to the group) We've done the best we can without ripping one of these things apart.

BOOTH: No accordion-dead bodies?

MARCUS: The cadaver dogs can identify human blood. They didn't find any.

ROXIE: (walking to Helen)Oh, my God. Helen?

HELEN: Yes?

ROXIE: Do you think Geoffrey might have actually done it?

HELEN: No. That was all just depressed artist talk, Roxie. You should know that. You were a depressed artist yourself.

BOOTH: (walking over with Brennan) Hello? Do you want to explain this to me?

ROXIE: Uh, recently Geoffrey's been talking about finding a way to make himself part of the art.

BRENNAN: Do you mean literally?

HELEN: The ultimate artistic act.

ROXIE: Geoffrey was depressed, and he said he felt like he'd reached his limit as an artist.

BOOTH: We'd like to show you a picture of the remains, only if you're up for it.

BRENNAN: I suggest you don't look at the person, but rather this distinct ring.

HELEN: That's Geoffrey.

ROXIE: I know that ring. I designed it myself. It's Geoffrey.

HELEN: (looking up and speaking as if to herself) Bravo, Geoffrey.

BRENNAN: You are an extremely unlikable woman.

BOOTH: Mr. Thorne have any enemies?

HELEN: Why? It's obvious he did this himself.

BRENNAN: To you, perhaps, but we actually require evidence.

ROXIE: Anton DeLuca.

(Booth looks at her meaningfully)

ROXIE: He's an artist and a rival of Geoffrey's. They had a pretty big argument here the other night.

BOOTH: About what?

HELEN: What all artists argue about-- money.

(Cut to the Medico-Legal forensics lab. Cam is working at a desk, Hodgins walks in carrying a large piece of machinery)

HODGINS: You know what this is?

CAM: Jaws of Life.

HODGINS: 23,000 pounds per square inch of raw prying power.

CAM: You really want to be the one to use that, don't you?

HODGINS: It's not displaced sexual frustration.

CAM: Of course not. (turns to look at Hodgins)

HODGINS: I am totally cool if Angela wants to date already, or, I mean, again.

CAM: pointing to the other room) Right. You do know the point is to remove the human remains from inside the car with minimal disruption of the evidence?

(Hodgins puts the Jaws of Life on a table)

CAM: (turning back to her computer) Though, these tox results are suggesting su1c1de.

HODGINS: (walking over to her desk) You got these from the tissue samples?

CAM: Mostly skin, some brain matter.

(camera shows computer screen with data on each drug listed)

CAM: Clonazepam, lamotrigine, quetiapine, venlafaxine, (turns to look at Hodgins) hydrocodone, oxycodone and codeine.

HODGINS: Wow. Anti-anxiety dr*gs, mood stabilizers, anti-psychotics, antidepressants and painkillers.

CAM: He was under psychiatric care. Even spent a week in the psych ward last March.

HODGINS: So, our victim could very well have been dead from an overdose before he was crushed.

CAM: Can't tell for sure. Long-time abusers build up a tolerance, so, this could have been a typical Wednesday night for the guy.

HODGINS: Best way to find out is to cr*ck her open, baby.

(picks up Jaws of Life. Cam looks at him with a questioning look)

HODGINS: I didn't mean "baby."

CAM: Carefully, Dr. Hodgins. Like removing a baby bird from an egg.

(cut to the floor in front of the forensics platform. Hodgins puts on safety glasses)

HODGINS: Stand back, ladies. This is about to get medieval.

(Angela smiles as Daisey looks uncomfortable. Caroline walks in as Hodgins is about to begin work. She is followed by Helen, Roxie, and a man, most likely the lawyer.)

CAROLINE: Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah. Sorry, cheri. Apparently, this is an historic piece of art.

HODGINS: It's a hard car shell with a gooey corpse filling.

DAISY: I've already collected textile, tissue and bone samples.

CAROLINE: That was before I got here.

(begins walking around the sculpture)

CAROLINE: Here on in, this is an historic piece of art. These fine people persuaded a judge of that and got a temporary injunction.

HODGINS: Oh, this sucks.

ANGELA: Roxie?

ROXIE: Angie?

ANGELA: Roxie!

(the two walk to each other and hug. Cam walks past and over to Hodgins and Caroline)

ANGELA: My God...

ROXIE: Hi! What are you doing here?

CAM: What's going on?

HODGINS: Those two are old friends from college-- if that's the same Roxie.

(Angela and Roxie walk off)

DAISY: Luckily, I took initiative and got those samples before the injunction.

CAM: Injunction?

HODGINS: This heap is considered art.

CAM: Well, it's... gorgeous. Where does this leave our investigation?

CAROLINE: You can still examine it. You just can't disrupt it in any way. Don't worry. This is only temporary. We'll see how artistic people are feeling when it starts stinking. Just don't scratch it.

CAM: Don't scratch the crushed automobile, which encases a rotting, dead body?

CAROLINE: Good! We understand each other.

(loud noise as Hodgins puts the Jaws of Life back on the table)

(cut to a warehouse that's being used as an artists studio. Anton Deluca is working on a sculpture)

ANTON: Geoffrey Thorne dead? This is a... great day for the art world.

(Booth and Brennan turn to follow him as he works throughout the scene)

BOOTH: Yeah, well, last time you were seen together, you were arguing.

ANTON: Well, we never saw each other without arguing, so...

BRENNAN: You disliked Geoffrey Thorne?

ANTON: Well, let's just say between his work and his guts... I don't know which I hated more.

BOOTH: Yeah, well, artistically speaking, crushing him up in his own work, that would be very, uh, symbolic.

ANTON: Is that what happened? (launging) Oh, that, that's hilarious. He crushed himself inside one of his stupid car sculptures? An exhibitionist right to the bitter end.

ANTON: How Po-Mo.

BOOTH: Po-Mo?

BRENNAN: Uh, Post Modern.

ANTON: Let me tell you, Geoffrey's hermetic aestheticism was choked with tawdry pastiche. He had plastic intentions and weak enterprise.

BOOTH: All right, someone I understand less than you.

BRENNAN: This is asymmetrical and yet still pleasing to the eye.

BOOTH: Okay, I take that back. Why don't you just say it's... pretty?

ANTON: I don't do pretty.

BOOTH: Okay. Simmer down there, Picasso. You get a compliment, you be polite.

ANTON: I don't do polite either.

BRENNAN: Maybe that's why you're broke.

ANTON: Who gave you my name? Was it that Kabuki ghoul, Helen Bridenbecker?

BRENNAN: Shouldn't you be trying harder to look innocent?

BOOTH: Yeah. How long have you and Thorne hated each other?

ANTON: You can write down, since before the big bang.

BRENNAN: Oh, no. There was no "before" before the big bang, because time didn't exist. If there are no organizing properties...

BOOTH: Bones, I'm just going to write down, it's been a while. All right? So, why were you arguing at the gallery?

BRENNAN: We heard it was about money.

ANTON: Well, I might have said he was a sell-out. Usually do. But I didn't think to k*ll him. Now it's too late, right?

BOOTH: Well, if you didn't k*ll him, then, uh, who did?

ANTON: I'd look at his girlfriend if I were you.

(Brennan and Booth confused)

BRENNAN: No one has mentioned a girlfriend.

ANTON: Roxie. His "assistant." He said he was gonna leave all his money to her. I mean, this is kind of basic stuff you guys should know, right?

(cut to the sculpture in the medico-legal lab. Daisy is standing behind Cam, who is inserting a scope into the sculpture)

DAISY: Did you have like buckets of coffee this morning? You're very shaky.

CAM: Could you take a step back, please?

(Cam begins using the scope as Daisy watches the video feed)

DAISY: A little more. Just a little more. Like tip-toeing mice.

CAM: Oh, rats.

DAISY: Do you want me to try? Let me try. I'm very dexterous.

(Brennan walks over looking around the room. Cam sighs and hands Daisy the scope)

DAISY: Oh, you won't be sorry.

(Brennan empties the bucket over the sculpture. Beetles crawl through the sculpture.)

BRENNAN: I was going to say that I had an accident over here, but I don't like lying.

CAM: You dumped a bucket full of domestic beetles onto this work of art. They'll strip the flesh off our victim in no time.

BRENNAN: Within 30 hours. Am I fired?

CAM: Au contraire Remind me of this moment around Christmas bonus time.

DAISY: I'm in!

BRENNAN: Uh, good work, Ms. Wick.

(Brennan and Cam walk over to where Daisy is working)

DAISY: Well, we could've been here hours ago if Dr. Saroyan would have given me the endoscope sooner.

CAM: Thanks for mentioning that.

DAISY: There's too much flesh to really get an idea of the bone damage.

BRENNAN: 30 hours. (walks away)

(cut to an interrogation room. Booth is inteviewing Roxie as Sweets observes and talks to Booth through an earpiece)

ROXIE: I was Geoffrey Thorne's assistant for almost four years.

SWEETS: Okay, I suggest you start with the mundane, and then work yourself up to the sexual stuff.

BOOTH: So did you have a sexual relationship with your boss?

SWEETS: Okay, that's the total opposite of my suggestion.

ROXIE: No. No.

BOOTH: So what was the nature of your relationship?

ROXIE: I assisted Geoffrey. I handled the details of his day-to-day life. Are you sure it's Geoffrey?

SWEETS: Prevaricate, keep her guessing.

BOOTH: Yes, we're positive.

SWEETS: (sighs) Why am I here?

BOOTH: As his personal assistant did you get him his dr*gs?

ROXIE: If you mean his prescriptions, then... yes, I picked them up for him and I reminded him to take them.

SWEETS: Ask her if Thorne was clinically depressed.

BOOTH: He was depressed, right?

ROXIE: Yes. He was... suicidal. Seeing a shrink.

BOOTH: (looking towards the one-way mirror) That's why you're here.

ROXIE: Because you think Geoffrey took an overdose?

BOOTH: If he k*lled himself, I mean, wouldn't he have left a su1c1de note?

ROXIE: Yeah, I would think that he would have... left me a message.

BOOTH: (flipping through papers) Look, if you weren't sleeping with Thorne, then why did he name you the sole beneficiary of his estate?

ROXIE: Geoffrey's will?

BOOTH: Yeah, it's... about one million dollars. Look at that.

(Booth puts a page in front of her)

ROXIE: I had no idea that he was going to do that.

SWEETS: Perhaps jealousy is her motive for k*lling Thorne. Why else would she deny sleeping with him?

BOOTH: I don't think so.

ROXIE: I swear.

BOOTH: No, there was another reason why you weren't sleeping with Thorne.mIsn't that right, Roxie?

ROXIE: Angela told you, didn't she?

SWEETS: Told us what?

BOOTH: Why don't you tell me.

ROXIE: I'm gay. I'm a lesbian. I've never been with a man in my life and I never will.

SWEETS: oh, that changes everything.

(the medico-legal lab. Booth, Brennan and Angela are walking down the stairs to the main floor)

BRENNAN: So, according to his will, Roxie stands to inherit Thorne's entire estate.

ANGELA: She said they were close.

BOOTH: Well, people usually leave money like that to a wife or a lover.

ANGELA: I don't think so.

(they continue walking through a hallway)

BOOTH: Because?

ANGELA: Because Roxie's an old friend and she'd have told me.

BRENNAN: Well, she says she's a lesbian.

BOOTH: Delicacy, Bones.

BRENNAN: What? It's not an affliction, Booth.

ANGELA: Yes, Roxie is gay. At least she was when we were together.

BOOTH: In school?

ANGELA: Yes.

BOOTH: Oh, you heard rumors.

ANGELA: No, I have firsthand knowledge.

BOOTH: Oh, you walked in on her, that's awkward.

ANGELA: (stopping in front of a station and turning to address Booth) No, we were together, for over a year.

BOOTH: Wow. You and, uh, Roxie?

BRENNAN: You have a problem with that?

BOOTH: No. I was just processing the information there, that's all, and in doing so, I was envisioning you and her, you know, together, and, well, not to... well, together, but... Really?

BRENNAN: Women tend not to be as rigid in their sexual identities as men.

BOOTH: Weren't we talking about m*rder, here?

BRENNAN: Did she ever show any interest in men?

ANGELA: No. And she would never k*ll anybody.

BRENNAN: You haven't been close in a long time.

ANGELA: She hasn't changed.

BRENNAN: Except that now she's rich.

BOOTH: Yeah, and before Thorne was k*lled, she wasn't rich.

ANGELA: Roxie never cared about money. (looking at Brennan) I thought that you didn't speculate.

BRENNAN: That doesn't preclude pursuing a logical line of inquiry.

ANGELA: We still don't even know that it was m*rder. Thorne wrote about the need to become one with his work. He was ill. The logical signs point to su1c1de, don't they?

BOOTH: You're right. Ange, we're sorry. We didn't mean to upset you.

ANGELA: (sighs) I have work to do. Okay? (walks off)

(cut to the main floor of the medico-legal lab. Daisy is examining the skull within the sculpture using a scope)

DAISY: Here's the C2 axis. A little further, the C1 atlas. We're almost to the cranium.

CAM: (standing behind Daisy) Nice. Now maybe you'll be able to rescue the princess.

DAISY: (laughing) That's funny. Everyone here is so nice. You know, I think I may have initially come off as a bit too needy. My family was pretty dysfunctional, so... I tend to want a work environment to fulfill certain needs.

CAM: (cutting Daisy off) Perhaps some therapy might help.

DAISY: What a thoughtful suggestion. I always wanted a sister.

CAM: (turning to look off camera) Dr. Brennan, Ms. Wick and I were just observing the handiwork of your beetles.

(Brennan walks over)

DAISY: They did a beautiful job of cleaning the bones, but half of the remains are still obscured by the metal.

BRENNAN: The victim's right iliac crest shows a simple fracture.

DAISY: I also found microfractures, extending from his right ribs, five through ten, down his right greater trochanter.

BRENNAN: Very good.

DAISY: Really? And they were really small.

BRENNAN: Microfractures are by definition small.

(Cam rolls her eyes)

BRENNAN: What does this damage indicate?

DAISY: A test. Okay... The damage is inconclusive. Um, the fractures could easily be explained by the crushing of the car, but some could be the result of an att*ck or a fall.

BRENNAN: I agree.

DAISY: (whispering to Cam) She agrees.

(Cam smiles and nods. Hodgins walks down the stairs from the forensic platform)

HODGINS: The victim's clothing shows traces of calcium oxide, ferric oxide and magnesium oxide. (he walks over to a computer station. Cam, Brennan, and Daisy follow) It wasn't found on the car seats or the carpet, just pressed into the fabric of his shirt, front and back.

CAM: From what?

HODGINS: It could be from stone if he was sculpting. It could be he was lying on gravel or about a hundred other things. We can't say without getting further access to the interior of the car.

CAROLINE: (walking over to the group) Which access you were expressly denied by a federal judge, a federal judge who turned red and then blue and then some other color I have never seen before when he heard that flesh-eating beetles had somehow infested said work of art.

BRENNAN: Domestic beetles were not specifically forbidden on the injunction.

CAROLINE: I don't suppose "spirit of the law" means anything to you? (the four shrug and shake their heads) That little Kabuki lady started screaming like you peed on the Mona Lisa, that you compromised the integrity of the piece. That little stunt turned good opinion from the judge against us.

CAM: How long have we got?

CAROLINE: Two days to find evidence of foul play.

HODGINS: And after that?

CAROLINE: The question goes to the court and we grow old and die before a decision is made. And if there is a m*rder, that m*rder*r walks around free. Ideas?

DAISY: I will think about it until my head explodes.

CAROLINE: This one's a keeper.

(cut to Angela and Roxie in an art studio. They wander about as Angela looks at various paintings)

ROXIE: Geoffrey let me use part of his studio.

ANGELA: Roxie, these are wonderful.

ROXIE: Thanks, Angie.

ANGELA: What does Helen say?

ROXIE: We're talking about an exhibition.

ANGELA: That's great. When was your last show?

ROXIE: Eight years ago, when we were together.

(they laugh)

ROXIE: I don't know, is it too sappy to say that you were my muse, or perhaps my entire source of self-confidence as an artist?

(Angela turns to look at her and then goes back to looking at a painting)

ROXIE: Your people think I k*lled Geoffrey.

ANGELA: I can't talk to you about an ongoing m*rder investigation.

ROXIE: If you can't prove it was a su1c1de, I'm going to spend the rest of my life being Geoffrey Thorne's m*rder*r.

ANGELA: That could jack up the price of your work, right? Sorry. Roxie...

(Angela pulls out a painting of herself)

ROXIE: Yeah, that's actually the first piece that caught Helen's eye. She wanted to buy it from me for herself.

ANGELA: Why didn't you sell this?

ROXIE: Some things aren't for sale.

(they playfully brush their shoulders for a moment)

ANGELA: I remember sitting for this.

ROXIE: Happiest time of my life.

ANGELA: Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I have to go.

ROXIE: Why?

(Angela grabs her purse)

ANGELA: I know how to prove that Geoffrey Thorne committed su1c1de.
(cut to the floor of the medico-legal lab. Angela, Daisy, and CAM are standing in front of a giant machine that is set up over the sculpture)

ANGELA: This type of device can be used to scan boxcars, shipping containers, anything metal where items can be hidden.

DAISY: Amazing it is, this machine you have.

(Cam and Angela look at her)

DAISY: Star Wars?

CAM: Youth doesn't excuse everything, Ms. Wick. So, you're feeding the scans into the Angelator?

ANGELA: Every crease and fold, yeah.

DAISY: We have less than 40 hours, you know.

CAM: We're well aware of the time, we don't need a countdown.

ANGELA: Then, I'll recalibrate and get a digital rendering of the bones inside, which I can enhance.

DAISY: You've found out how to show what bone damage came from the actual crushing of the car.

ANGELA: Factoring in the pounds per square inch of force exerted by the car crusher.

DAISY: Oh, I hope you've included the car's frame and the tensile strength of the victim's skeletal structure.

ANGELA: I'll make a note.

CAM: Well, I programmed my phone to get the five-day forecast.

(cut to the Angelator. Angela is showing Booth and Brennan her simulation of the crushed car)

ANGELA: Okay, take a look at this. Here we have our car, right?

It had a low-carbon steel frame with a yield strength of 22,450 psi. So, since I know the hydraulic crusher imparts 163 tons of force, first horizontally, then in a 32-degree curling motion, I was able to verify the source of every single ripple on the surface of the crushed car, which then gave me the data to play the crushing backwards.

BOOTH: How did you do that?

ANGELA: Daisy provided me with the approximate tensile strength of each of Geoffrey's bones, plugged in the bone fragments' final positions, and based on those, correlated each injury as the body was moved through the car as it was crushed.

BOOTH: God, I really hope that guy didn't know what was happening to him.

ANGELA: His bones sustained 88 fractures, all of which can be explained by the crushing in the car.

BOOTH: su1c1de.

ANGELA: Most likely, yeah.

(a buzzer is heard)

BOOTH: What's that?

ANGELA: Um... this run included the last of the data. (she looks disappointed) Oh, no.

BOOTH: What?

BRENNAN: There's an 89th fracture.

(a cut in the skull is highlighted)

BRENNAN: The fracture there on his occipital... it was not caused by the car being crushed.

BOOTH: What caused it?

BRENNAN: I need to examine the skull.

ANGELA: It wasn't supposed to be this way. I wanted to prove it wasn't m*rder.

BRENNAN: But it is. The 89th fracture proves that Geoffrey Thorn was m*rder*d.

(An office break room. Caroline is pouring a cup of coffee and talking on her cell phone)

CAROLINE: Okay, I got the injunction removed. You are free to cr*ck open the car and remove the remains.

(Booth and BRENNAN are in Booth's SUV. Booth is driving and has his cell on speaker phone)

BOOTH: Thanks, Caroline, you are da b*mb.

BRENNAN: Why is she a b*mb?

BOOTH: No, da b*mb.

BRENNAN: Wait, what changed? It was a million dollar piece of art yesterday, and today, it's a piece of junk.

CAROLINE: Cherie, you proved m*rder. That changed it from a work of art into a crime scene.

BRENNAN: This is crazy, I don't understand. And I'm not used to not understanding things.

BOOTH: Legally speaking, all that matters is that it's a crime scene. Isn't that right, Caroline?

CAROLINE: That's right. Get in there and solve the m*rder, just like always.

BRENNAN: That I understand.

BOOTH: Thanks.

(cut to the Medico-Legal lab floor. Hodgins prepares to cut into the sculpture with the Jaws-of-Life while Cam, Daisy, and Brennan observe)

HODGINS: Stand back. I am going in. (he peels back enough of the car to reveal the skull. He pulls out other parts of the car)

BRENNAN: Careful. Okay. Now, what we want to do here is remove the skull very carefully.

(Daisy goes to pull out the skull)

BRENNAN: Carefully.

(Daisy puts too much pressure on the skull and it shatters in her hands. They all stare in horror)

CAM: I can't believe you did that.

HODGINS: Bummer.

DAISY: Usually, when you say "we", you mean me. I'm so sorry. I'll put it together. I will stay up all night.

BRENNAN: (looking very angry) I'll do it.

DAISY: Well, I will assist you every step of the way. I will not leave your side.

BRENNAN: I would prefer to do it alone.

(cut to the interior of Booth's vehicle. He and Angela are driving)

ANGELA: Am I under arrest?

BOOTH: Nope. You're one of the good guys, all right? Look up Anton DeLuca on the FBI database.

ANGELA: That's Geoffrey Thorne's big rival, huh? (she pulls up a list of information) He's a forger?

BOOTH: You got to be kidding me. Under the alias of Lucas Danton? I mean, this guy really loves himself.

ANGELA: Yeah, two years in prison. Forging Francis Bacon, Lucien Freud. Must be pretty good.

BOOTH: All right, so I got a dead artist and a forger who hates him. That's got to cheer you up. I mean, your friend is no longer our prime suspect.

ANGELA: Thanks, Booth.

BOOTH: Ah-ha, Any time.

ANGELA: So, does it freak you out?

BOOTH: What?

ANGELA: You know, that Roxie and I were a couple.

BOOTH: No. I mean, come on, you had feelings for somebody.

ANGELA: I'm surprised.

BOOTH: Why, because you think I'm some kind of lunkhead cop?

ANGELA: No, I just...

BOOTH: All right. Uh... look, my Aunt Ruth had a roommate, okay? She was my favorite aunt. She and Franny, they'd take me to the ballpark, to the movies. And I heard talk when I was a kid. b*at up my friend, Pete, because of it. Then, I found out it was true.

ANGELA: And...?

BOOTH: I already said she was my favorite aunt. And Franny... well, you know, she had box seats for the Phillies games. I mean, come on, it doesn't get any better than that, right?

ANGELA: Right.

BOOTH: So, you and Roxie... hey. You know what I mean?

ANGELA: Yeah. So, you brought me along. What can I do to help you?

BOOTH: I want you to be an artist, okay, and, uh, keep me from looking like an idiot.

ANGELA: I'm not positive I can do both.

(they exchange grins)

(cut to Anton DeLuca's studio. Booth is leaning on a pole while Anton sits at a table)

BOOTH: So, we subpoenaed your bank records, and you're not exactly a starving artist. Where did you get the money?

ANGELA: (looking at some paintings) Hey, Booth.

BOOTH: Yeah?

ANGELA: The brush strokes on this painting match the brush strokes on Thorne's car sculptures.

BOOTH: Hmm, so you were forging Thorne's work. That's why you two were arguing.

ANGELA: I didn't say these brush strokes are like the ones on the car sculptures. I'm saying that they are the same brush strokes.

ANTON: You have a good eye.

ANGELA: Brush strokes are like fingerprints. You can't fake them. DeLuca here is the guy who painted Geoffrey Thorne's car sculptures.

(Booth turns to Angela slightly confused)

BOOTH: You're positive?

ANGELA: I'm positive.

BOOTH: Okay, I can roll with this. (turns back to Anton) You want recognition for your brilliant work. Thorne says no, (raps the table for emphasis) you k*ll him.

ANGELA: Oh, so good--cuff him.

BOOTH: Right.

ANTON: What, so Roxie can walk?

BOOTH: Hey, watch it.

ANTON: A) That work is anything but brilliant. Painting Thorne's cars was like a day job to subsidize my real art, and B... why would I k*ll my main source of income, you lummox?

BOOTH: Yeah, a lummox who's got enough to hold you for 24 hours, pal. (cuffs Anton)

ANTON: (to Angela) When this case falls apart and I get out tomorrow, you want to grab some dinner or something?

ANGELA: (laughing) You're kidding.

ANTON: Well, I hear the gate swings both ways. Maybe we can get a little threesome action.

ANTON: You, me, hot Roxie?

BOOTH: Hey! (slams Anton's head down on the table) Okay, all right. If you're gonna hit on Angela, you should do it with a little respect. Okay, let's go. (walks him out of the studio)

(cut to a room in the Medico-Legal lab. Brennan is working on the skull at a table. Angela walks in)

ANGELA: Is that Geoffrey Thorne?

BRENNAN: Yes. (sighs) Nearly done.

ANGELA: I honestly didn't think it would be m*rder.

BRENNAN: Which makes your conclusions all the more credible.

ANGELA: Only you would find that comforting. Booth is questioning DeLuca again. He seems to have a motive.

BRENNAN: So, there's still a chance that your friend is not a m*rder*r.

ANGELA: Yeah.

BRENNAN: We'll know more when we identify the m*rder w*apon.

ANGELA: It wasn't Roxie.

BRENNAN: Do you still have feelings for her?

ANGELA: No.

BRENNAN: Booth tells me that sometimes people say the exact opposite of what they mean.

ANGELA: I do still have feelings for her.

BRENNAN: Are you saying the opposite of what you mean now or before?

ANGELA: (sighs) We had a very intense relationship in college, and she fell in love with me-- way in love with me. When I broke it off, she was really hurt.

BRENNAN: That happens with you. Look at Hodgins.

ANGELA: This was worse than Hodgins. This was, "I'm gonna run away to Europe and stop being an artist" hurt.

BRENNAN: Oh ANGELA: I don't really think that I have the right to open up that can of worms again just because some feelings are rising to the surface.

BRENNAN: It's too bad there isn't a way to experiment with sexuality.

ANGELA: That's how I got into this whole mess in the first place.

BRENNAN: Well, I meant...

ANGELA: I know what you meant. I'm just...

BRENNAN: On the bright side, if she did k*ll Geoffrey Thorne, you won't have to think about any of that.

ANGELA: Thanks, Brennan. How long is it gonna take you to identify the w*apon?

BRENNAN: I can do it right now. I've seen this injury many times. I'm almost certain that the death blow came from a common fire a*.

(a room in the Medico-Legal lab. Cam is working as Hodgins walks in)

HODGINS: There's also limestone and silicon oxide on his clothes.

(he goes to a computer and keys something in. Cam comes over to look)

HODGINS: Mix them all together, and poof, we've got a match with the concrete floor at the gallery.

CAM: Well, it turns out that not all the blood on the floor of the gallery came from that performance with the pig. (she shows Hodgins a large screen at which she has been working) This is human.

HODGINS: Is any of it Thorne's?

CAM: Someone worked very hard to clean it up. It's making things difficult.

(cut to Helen's gallery. She and Booth are standing by one of the sculptures as FBI techs work in the room)

HELEN: First you destroyed Geoffrey's finest work, and now you are destroying my business.

BOOTH: Yeah, well, you know what else got destroyed? Geoffrey Thorne.

HELEN: My grief and my business are two separate things, Agent Booth.

FBI TECH: Sir, look at this.

HELEN: Is that my fire a*?

BOOTH: Yes.

BRENNAN: Booth.

BOOTH: Yeah?

BRENNAN: Cam said there was human blood mixed in with the pig's.

(Booth walks over to where Brennan is standing by another sculpture)

MARCUS: (walking around Brennan looking at the floor) I think we found it. There are definite blood stains here, but they're underneath a layer of what we think is turpentine.

BRENNAN: Could I borrow your lighter?

BOOTH: Why do you want my lighter?

BRENNAN: Just...

BOOTH: (handing the lighter to Brennan and turning to Marcus) Sure, here. Okay, so what do we know about that?

MARCUS: Not much. I doubt we'll be able to identify the bleeder.

(Brennan uses the lighter to start a fire on the floor)

BOOTH AND MARCUS: Woah!

(Booth jumps to get out of the way of the flames)

BOOTH: Sheesh! Hey Bones, you know, you almost lit my butt on fire BRENNAN: (standing) Well notice that the flames leapt from the center room towards the loading dock.

BOOTH: Wait. So, you're saying that Thorne was k*lled here and then dragged there.

MARCUS: Can we get the UV lights over here, please?

BRENNAN: (using a UV light) Not dragged, Booth. Rolled.

BOOTH: I got to tell you, that was a great trick there, Bones.

MARCUS: Yeah, remove the turpentine, reveal the blood soaked into the concrete.

BRENNAN: The blood stains show up approximately every 35 centimeters.

BOOTH: That would explain why Hodgins found the cement particles on the front and the back of the clothing.

MARCUS: Yeah, but why rolled instead of dragged?

BOOTH: Thorne was a big guy. Okay, whoever k*lled him could not pick him up and carry him to the loading dock and put him in the car. They had to roll him. (mimes rolling as he walks) You understand? Roll.

BOOTH: (pointing to Helen) Excuse me, tiny little woman.

HELEN: (walking over) Yes.

BOOTH: Can you account for your whereabouts the night that Geoffrey Thorne was k*lled?

HELEN: Yes, I was at home. I was reading. That was a lie. I was watching The Real Housewives of Orange County. I find it a brilliant postmodern performance piece.

BRENNAN: So, no alibi.

HELEN: Geoffrey's work was selling. I was making money. Why would I k*ll the golden goose? I wasn't going to inherit anything. Not like Roxie.

BRENNAN: It all seems to come back to Roxie.

BOOTH: Angela is not going to like that.

(cut to a table at the bar from earlier in the episode. Sweets and Angela are eating.)

SWEETS: It's exactly the same situation as the last time we were sitting here. Except, you know, you're quieter.

ANGELA: No, that was about Hodgins. This is about Roxie.

SWEETS: (loudly in shock) You want to have sex with Roxie.

(a man at the bar turns to look at them)

ANGELA: What was that about quieter?

SWEETS: I'm sorry, I'm not certain that you're being guided by your brain, that's all. Need can be confused with love. Fantasy can convince us that what we are feeling is love.

ANGELA: So, you're saying that this is all rebound?

SWEETS: (taking a sip of his drink) Yeah.

ANGELA: No. You don't understand love, Sweets.

SWEETS: I'm not as innocent as you might think.

ANGELA: You have this bourgeois notion...

SWEETS: (laughing) Bourgeois?

ANGELA: ...that in order for love to be real it has to be permanent. Nothing is permanent. That's just a fact. We move in and out of loving other people, but that doesn't make the love any less real.

SWEETS: Mm-hmm, perhaps you're saying this because you've never met the love of your life.

ANGELA: (nodding) I have, actually. Many times. Fine.

SWEETS: It seems to me that you always leave yourself an escape hatch in your relationships. Because you're afraid of commitment.

ANGELA: Nice try. But no. Actually, I commit to every person I love.

SWEETS: You marry a man and then conveniently forget that you married him because you got zonked on Kava Kava. That compromises your relationship with Hodgins so that ends, along with the marriage. Now you say you have these intense feelings. . .

(Angela begins to look more and more serious)

SWEETS: . . . for an ex-lover whose heart you've already broken. Don't you see the potential disaster here?

ANGELA: Look, you said that, without the possibility of pain, there can be no joy, no real love.

SWEETS: I said that?

(Angela sighs)

SWEETS: That's beautiful.

ANGELA: Look... I don't want to hurt Roxie again.

SWEETS: Then don't. Don't. Put her welfare first. Let Roxie decide if she's ready to pursue this relationship.

ANGELA: Okay. And what if she doesn't?

SWEETS: Then I'm afraid you'll have to live with that pain.

(cut to the medico-legal lab. Hodgins is using a mass spectrometer as Daisy watches)

DAISY: I used a mass spectrometer during my summer internship at Johns Hopkins. I even taught my friend how to use it.

HODGINS: Excellent. Next you should learn the concept of personal space.

(Cam walks up as Hodgins tries to get past Daisy to the computer)

CAM: What'd you get off the a*?

HODGINS: It was wiped clean with turpentine, no signs of blood. (he holds out a folder)

DAISY: And he also checked the handle.

HODGINS: Sodium chloride and odorants.

DAISY: Sweat. Most likely human.

CAM: What was the eccrine pH?

HODGINS: Seven.

DAISY: It was a woman. What you should have him do next is match the DNA from the sweat to Angela's lesbian lover-- see if there's a match.

HODGINS: Do you ever listen to yourself?

CAM: Yeah, but it's a good idea, Hodgins. You might want to prepare Angela.

(Sweets' office. Cam is sitting on the couch as Sweets walks in)

SWEETS: Doctor Saroyan?

CAM: Thank you so much for seeing me.

SWEETS: I didn't agree to see you. How come none of you people ever book an appointment? Frankly, it's annoying.

CAM: (pointing vigorously) Ah. Annoying. That's exactly why I'm here. I...

(Sweets sits)

CAM: I've done an unofficial, confidential survey of my people and...

SWEETS: And they find me annoying? No, it's worse. They hate me. You know why, don't you? It's because Dr. Brennan undervalues psychology and all of you have picked up her vibe. Now, I know that sounds paranoid...

CAM: And the word "vibe" is a little dated.

SWEETS: But it's true.

CAM: I'm not here about you being annoying. It's Daisy Wick.

SWEETS: Daisy?

CAM: Yes, she's very smart, very able, and she has a knack for turning reasonable people into flaming gas balls of fury.

SWEETS: You want me to talk to her?

CAM: No, no. I need your advice on how to tell Daisy we can't have her at the lab anymore. I'm very comfortable with incompetence, but when it's just a matter of personality...

SWEETS: I'll do it.

CAM: What? Really?

SWEETS: Yeah, I'll talk to her.

CAM: Well, as the boss, it's kind of my job to fire people.

SWEETS: And as a boss, you know that sometimes it's better to delegate. I'll do it. Let's just hope she doesn't turn me into a flaming gas ball of fury.

CAM: Well, I'm no psychologist, but I think you should be flattered that we all drop in on you and ask your advice. (she walks out)

SWEETS: Thank you.

(cut to the medico-legal lab. Brennan walks up to Hodgins who is working at a station. Cam is also present)

BRENNAN: Okay, I'm ready for you to blow up my mind.

HODGINS: Okay, now first off, I almost missed this so, don't praise me too much.

CAM: The point is, you didn't miss it.

HODGINS: Yeah, but only because Angela asked for a personal favor. And I am powerless to resist. (He puts a slide under a microscope. He then walks past a set of tables pointing out objects) Okay, now, this is the victim's clothing. And this is the a* handle of the "presumed" m*rder w*apon. As you know, there were traces of sweat on both of them. But not the victim's sweat.

BRENNAN: Female sweat, yes.

CAM: Presumably the m*rder*r sweat on the a* handle then perspired while rolling the victim's body to the car.

HODGINS: Yes, now, upon further analysis, I discovered other traces in the sweat.

BRENNAN: Imatinib mesylate, hydroxyurea, busulfan. Do you have any idea where these chemicals might have come from?

CAM: Medicines. Treatments for cancer.

HODGINS: I looked them up. This is treatment for chronic myelogenous leukemia.

CAM: Then Roxie is not our m*rder*r.

BRENNAN: You can't necessarily tell if someone has leukemia from looking at them.

CAM: No, but this drug here, busulfan, it causes highly visible skin discoloration.

BRENNAN: Oh, then that is very good for Angela. Not that we are swayed by those considerations. (she smiles and walks off)

CAM: What's that look?

HODGINS: She knows who did it.

(cut to an interrogation room. Helen is on one side of the table with Booth and Brennan facing her)

HELEN: I had no reason to k*ll Geoffrey.

BOOTH: Oh, you own several of his art pieces. We all know that art increases in value when an artist dies.

HELEN: Anyone could see that Geoffrey Thorne wasn't long for this world. I'm a very patient woman.

BRENNAN: Except you're dying, Ms. Bridenbecker.

HELEN: Nonsense.

BRENNAN: Would you please remove your makeup?

HELEN: I will not. I want a lawyer.

BOOTH: Really? (picks up some papers and begins looking at them) Because, you know, the phone records-- they indicate that you contacted a cancer clinic in Mexico City. And we do know that that clinic costs a small fortune.

BRENNAN: If it's any consolation, it wouldn't have worked. Their "treatment"-- it's not legitimate.

HELEN: (on the verge of tears) You don't know that.

BRENNAN: I'm afraid I do. Places like that are set up to prey on the hopes of people like you.

HELEN: Geoffrey was going to die anyway. (begins wiping off her makeup) Anyone could see that. I did him a favor. I gave him his start. Geoffrey would much rather have been remembered as a fully committed artist than as a common m*rder victim.

BOOTH: Really? Maybe he preferred to live.

HELEN: Well... well, so would I. I guess none of us get what we want.

(cut to the gallery. Roxie is watching the video of Geoffrey Thorn as Angela walks in)

ANGELA: Hey, Roxie.

ROXIE: Now what do I do?

ANGELA: Well, you have money, and you have a studio. I think what you should do is your own art, full time.

ROXIE: That's not what I mean. Did you ever, even for a second, think that it was me?

ANGELA: No. Not for a second.

ROXIE: Why?

ANGELA: Because we... we really knew each other once and I don't think that... you've changed much since then.

ROXIE: Have you changed?

ANGELA: Uh, I don't, I don't know, Roxie. Um... maybe I have. But I'm not, I'm-- I haven't changed...

(Roxie kisses her and Angela kisses back)

(cut to the Medico-Legal lab. Cam and Hodgins are on the balcony watching Daisy on the forensics platform)

CAM: How do you think he's going to do it?

HODGINS: He'll convince her that it's best for her to move to another job.

(Booth walks over with Brennan)

BOOTH: What's going on?

HODGINS: Sweets is f*ring Daisy for us.

CAM: We're wondering what his method will be.

BRENNAN: He'll explain to her logically

(Sweets walks up the platform stairs) that this environment is not conducive for either her or us and, as a scientist, she'll realize that he's right.

BOOTH: No, Sweets is a lot sneakier than that. He'll use some kind of psychological Jedi mind trick to make her think it was her idea to quit.

SWEETS: (walking over to Daisy) I've got some good news and some bad news. Which would you like first?

DAISY: The bad first.

SWEETS: You're toast here. Nobody wants to work with you.

DAISY: Why?

SWEETS: You know why, Daisy. There are some things that you have to work on when it comes to interpersonal relations.

DAISY: Does anybody like me?

SWEETS: No, I'm afraid not.

DAISY: What's the good news?

SWEETS: There's absolutely no reason for us to be discreet about our relationship anymore.

DAISY: Really?

SWEETS: Yeah, why'd you ask me that?

DAISY: Because I thought we were being discreet because you're a little bit ashamed of me.

(Sweets looks up at the balcony and then kisses Daisy. They make out for a moment.)

HODGINS: I'm totally shocked.

BRENNAN: Yeah. They should not be doing that on the forensic platform.

CAM: That's a method of termination I've never tried. But bravo, Dr. Sweets.

(Cam and Hodgins walk off)

BOOTH: They'll never work. They're like complete opposites.

BRENNAN: I agree. For all her faults, she's a woman of science, Sweets bases his life on the vagaries of psychology and emotion.

(Booth scoffs)

BRENNAN: You know, there's no common ground.

BOOTH: Right.

BRENNAN: You need common ground. What else is there?

BOOTH: Absolutely.

(Daisy and Sweets walk off together)

END
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