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1x09transcript

Page history last edited by PBworks 12 years, 7 months ago

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"The Man in the Fallout Shelter"

Episode 1x09

Written By: Hart Hanson

Directed by: Greg Yaitanes

Transcribed by Krystal (krys33)


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.


 

[Fade in: Stock footage of the White House at Christmastime fades to the Jefferesonain lab, decorated for Christmas. Angela enters the lab, dressed as an elf, chasing after Brennan. Text on the screen reads: DECEMBER 23RD 6 PM]

 

ANGELA: Sweetie!

 

BRENNAN: Angela, I don’t want to.

 

ANGELA: Sweetie, could you stop galloping for, like, two seconds?

 

BRENNAN: Better able to withstand peer pressure when you can’t catch me.

 

ANGELA: Call it a favor, okay?

 

BRENNAN: How is me going to a company Christmas party doing you a favor?

 

ANGELA: Remember what happened last year?

 

BRENNAN: I didn’t go last year.

 

ANGELA: Yeah, exactly. And it took me weeks to collect all those photocopies. I need you. Friends don’t let friends photocopy their butts at company Christmas parties. Hey, there’s a Secret Santa.

 

BRENNAN: I don’t like Secret Santa. The idea that we are forced by convention to exchange meaningless gifts is…

 

ANGELA: Yeah, yeah, I know. If you rearrange Secret Santa, though, you get Secret Satan.

 

[Angela continues to follow Brennan around the platform, standing by as Brennan begins to examine a skull.]

 

BRENNAN: What possible meaning could that have?

 

ANGELA: I’ve already had an eggnog, if you can’t tell. Now, how am I gonna enjoy this party knowing that my best friend in the whole world is in the lab, eyeball to eyeball with… Skeletor?

 

BRENNAN: Who?

 

ANGELA: He’s a cartoon villain who looks like a… You know, his name is self explanatory. Would you please just come to this party?

 

[Brennan exhales.]

 

BRENNAN: Twenty minutes.

 

OS: BOOTH: Bones! All right.

 

[Booth enters the lab, carrying a suitcase.]

 

ANGELA: Merry Christmas, Seeley.

 

BOOTH: Oh, wow. Ooh, what are you, an elf?

 

ANGELA: Yes. What’s wrong with a little Christmas spirit?

 

[Brennan grabs the file Booth brought in.]

 

BRENNAN: What’s the context?

 

BOOTH: A federal property on Dupont Circle where Congress puts up visiting agricultural specialists, or- or something like that, they’re digging to put in a solarium, and they find a fallout shelter with… a skeleton inside.

 

[Brennan looks at a picture of the skeleton.]

 

ANGELA: How long was it in there?

 

BOOTH: Shelter was built in the fifties, part of that whole A-bomb panic.

 

BRENNAN: It’s not a suicide.

 

BOOTH: Why not? Hole in the head, you see the gun, it’s a suicide.

 

BRENNAN: He shoots himself in the head and somehow his arm ends up across his chest? Bring the skeleton in, I’ll prove it wasn’t a suicide.

 

BOOTH: Merry Christmas, Bones.

 

[He whistles loudly.]

 

BOOTH: Come on, boys, bring it in.

 

[Two FBI men carry in a stretcher with the skeleton and bring it up onto the platform.]

 

ANGELA: Oh, no. We are going to the company Christmas party.

 

BRENNAN: Well, you go ahead. I’ll do a cursory examination and I’ll meet you in a few minutes.

 

BOOTH (helping lower the body onto the table): All right. There you go. Wow.

 

[He turns to leave.]

 

BRENNAN: Booth, will you escort Angela to the Christmas party and make sure she doesn’t photocopy her butt?

 

BOOTH: Oh, no, no. I can’t do that. You see, I got some really last-minute important Christmas shopping that I gotta do.

 

ANGELA (taking his arm): It’s not last-minute until tomorrow.

 

BOOTH: Come on, Bones. Bones…

 

[Angela starts to drag him away.]

 

BOOTH: I just- I gotta-

 

ANGELA: Come on.

 

BOOTH: Geez.

 

[Cut to: Hodgins and Zack watching a small robot walk across an empty examination table.]

 

ZACK (to the robot): Stop.

 

[It starts to do a somersault.]

 

ZACK: Stop!

 

[The robot completes it somersault and returns to its feet.]

 

ZACK: Turn.

 

[The robot stops, and Hodgins laughs.]

 

HODGINS: You robot reminds me of you. You tell it to turn, it stops. You tell it to stop, it turns. You ask it to take out the garbage, it watches reruns of Firefly.

 

ZACK: After I fix the voice recognition protocols, this is going to blow those Gomers at M.I.T. away.

 

[Hodgins walks across the lab, picking up a glass container with some liquid in it.]

 

HODGINS: Hey, we’ve got about half a liter of pure alcohol here. Dump it in the eggnog, and we’ve got the best Christmas party in history.

 

[He pours the alcohol into a beaker.]

 

[Cut to: The lab platform. Brennan examines the fallout shelter skeleton very closely.]

 

[Cut to: Zack is crouched down, examining a skeleton, looking closely at the femur. Hodgins’ hand appears, waving a mug in front of his face.]

 

HODGINS: I brought an eggnog.

 

ZACK (standing): I can’t drink while I work.

 

HODGINS: Good thing I didn’t bring it for you.

 

ZACK: Crystal in Accounting is after you, isn’t she?

 

HODGINS: Like Alien after Predator. (to the robot) Sit!

 

[The robot starts to run across the table. Hodgins laughs, and offscreen the robot can be heard falling to the floor.]

 

[Cut to: Lab platform. Brennan pulls something out of the jacket on the skeleton. Booth enters.]

 

BOOTH: What do you got there?

 

BRENNAN: Two open tickets to Paris. One way. Pan Transit Airlines. They’re blank.

 

BOOTH: Pan Transit went out of business in the sixties.

 

BRENNAN: I thought you were at the party.

 

BOOTH: Ugh, it wasn’t a party, it was a Star Wars convention.

 

[Brennan picks up the remains of a bullet with a pair of tweezers.]

 

BRENNAN: This was still in the skull.

 

BOOTH: .22 caliber. Matches the gun he was holding. Did you open up the suitcase?

 

BRENAN: Nope.

 

BOOTH: Why not?

 

BRENNAN: It could hold information that would compromise my objectivity.

 

BOOTH: Oh, yeah, like a name and address?

 

BRENNAN: I prefer to make unbiased initial observations.

 

[She spots Zack and Hodgins walking across one of the catwalks on the upper level of the lab, Hodgins carrying the beaker of alcohol.]

 

BRENNAN: Is that pure alcohol?

 

ZACK (flustered): Yes, Dr. Brennan.

 

[Hodgins shoots him a dirty look.]

 

BRENNAN: You really think Goodman’s gonna let you spike the eggnog after the Fourth of July fiasco?

 

[Hodgins sighs.]

 

HODGINS: We may have to rethink.

 

BRENNAN: Zack, I need you to clean these bones.

 

ZACK: Now?

 

[Hodgins laughs.]

 

HODGINS: Burnt.

 

[He starts to walk off, but Brennan calls out to him, too.]

 

BRENNAN: And I need you to search the clothing for insect evidence.

 

BOOTH: Geez, Bones. Merry Christmas.

 

[From off to the side, Angela speaks.]

 

ANGELA: Okay, you people listen to me. There is a party going on upstairs, okay? A Christmas party. We’re going up there. We’re gonna talk to some people, we’re gonna sing some carols, we’re gonna drink some eggnog.

 

[She points at Booth for a moment.]

 

ANGELA: You are going to kiss me under the mistletoe. On the lips.

 

[She turns to Zack and Hodgins.]

 

ANGELA: I might kiss you guys under the mistletoe, too.

 

[She turns to Brennan.]

 

ANGELA: Maybe even you. In a festive, non-lesbian manner. But we are going to that party.

 

[Cut to: Zack and Hodgins, standing over the body. Zack has on a protective mask.]

 

ZACK: Put on a mask. I’m gonna take a couple core samples.

 

HODGINS: Okay.

 

[He holds a mask over his mouth as Zack starts up the saw. As Zack works on the bone, Hodgins pulls his mask away from his mouth to take a sip of eggnog. Dust flies into the air, which the camera follows past Hodgins and into a vent, where lights turn from green to red as the dust sets off a sensor. A loud alarm goes off throughout the lab.]

 

[Cut to: Main lab.]

 

BOOTH: What’s that?

 

GOODMAN: Biological contamination.

 

[Cut to: Zack and Hodgins. Both of them dash to the decontamination shower and fight to get in.]

 

[Cut to: The lab platform.]

 

OS: HODGINS (shouting): Zack!

 

[The sliding doors begin to pull shut, and Booth runs at them.]

 

BOOTH: Whoa!

 

ANGELA: The doors seal automatically. Don’t worry about it.

 

BOOTH: What do you mean, don’t worry about it?

 

BRENNAN: There’s no use panicking until we know what it is.

 

BOOTH: What what is?

 

[Hodgins and Zack enter, wet, with towels around their waists.]

 

HODGINS: Uh, we might know.

 

ZACK: I cut into the fallout shelter bones and the biohazard alarm went off.

 

GOODMAN: Were you conforming to autopsy protocol?

 

ZACK: One of us was.

 

HODGINS: The other was… drinking an eggnog.

 

GOODMAN: And you didn’t have your mask on. Oh…

 

[Cut to: Brennan’s office. The team is conferring with an official, dressed in a Santa costume due to the holidays, via video.]

 

HAL: The pathogen is coccidioidomycosis.

 

GOODMAN: Valley fever?

 

HAL: It was picked up in the scanner in the discharge vent at Mr. Addy’s station.

 

BOOTH: What’s valley fever?

 

ZACK: It’s a fungus that can lead to pneumonia, meningitis, spontaneous abortion, death.

 

GOODMAN: The alarm sounded shortly after Mr. Addy cut into a human bone. That must have been the source.

 

HAL: Was he following autopsy protocol?

 

BRENNAN: Of course. However…

 

HODGINS: I was drinking an eggnog.

 

HAL: And now he’s there with you breathing the same air.

 

HODGINS: Hey, I got into the decontamination shower with Zack. Haven’t I been through enough hell?

 

BOOTH: Is he contagious?

 

HAL: Dr. Hodgins may have inhaled the spores, yes.

 

BOOTH: Okay, it must suck to be Hodgins right now, but the rest of us, we didn’t inhale. So it’s okay if I go, right?

 

GOODMAN: Dr. Hodgins may have exhaled the spores all over us.

 

HAL: We have no choice but to impose quarantine. Valley fever can be fatal, and we can’t risk a pandemic. Just calm down and let us handle things from this side.

 

BOOTH: Anyone besides me worried that a guy dressed like Santa is in charge?

 

HAL (coldly): Merry Christmas.

 

[The screen shuts off.]

 

BOOTH (at Hodgins and Zack): Okay, you know what? If this is fatal, I will shoot both of you.

 

ANGELA: Maybe you guys could go get dressed.

 

[Hodgins and Zack exit.]

 

[Fade out.]

 

TITLE CREDITS

 

[Fade in: Lab platform. The skeleton is now encased in a plastic dome that covers the examination table.]

 

ZACK: I zapped the bones with ultraviolet light and arranged them on the isolation table so we won’t have to worry about spores. In addition, I found this sewn into the lining of his clothing.

 

[He passes the small baggie to Brennan, who examines it to see the ring inside.]

 

BRENNAN: A woman’s wedding band.

 

ZACK: Two tickets to Paris, a wedding band, a picture begins to form.

 

BRENNAN: We don’t form pictures. We accumulate evidence. Dental work?

 

ZACK: Acrylic resins in the interior fillings from the 1940s. Childhood tibia break. Bad enough that he walked with a limp. (he pulls out another baggie) Also, he wore a toupee.

 

[He passes the bag to Brennan, who looks at the sample.]

 

BRENNAN: It doesn’t seem to have degraded.

 

ZACK: It’s made of a synthetic called Dynell. It couldn’t have looked good.

 

[Cut to: Main lab, later. Six injection needles are laid out on a tray, and the team is assisted by men in full-body protective suits.]

 

HAL: This is a cocktail of four antifungal drugs, including amphotericin B. Orally, you’ll be taking ketoconazole, fluconazole, and itraconazole.

 

BOOTH: That’s great. Then we can leave?

 

HAL: We won’t know for a couple of days if the fungus took hold in your system.

 

[The men in suits proceed to administer the shots to the Jeffersonain team.]

 

BOOTH: Whoa, whoa, whoa. You’re saying that we’re stuck here over Christmas? Look, you know, I have… places to go, you know? I have obligations.

 

GOODMAN: We all have obligations.

 

HODGINS: I’m supposed to go to Quebec.

 

ANGELA: Hey, whose fault is this?

 

HODGINS: Who forced me to go to the party where I drank to much and had to hide from Crystal?

 

ANGELA: Who never should have cut into a bone with a drunken fool in the room?

 

ZACK: Who brought us human remains just to ditch a little paperwork?

 

BOOTH: Oh, you’re saying this is my fault?

 

GOODMAN: You knew Dr. Brennan could not resist.

 

BRENNAN: I’d have been able to resist if I was in Niger, where I wanted to be.

 

GOODMAN: You’re blaming me.

 

HAL: Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll have sleeping bags delivered. Please have your loved ones call me and we’ll set up some kind of safe, quarantined visit on Christmas Eve. Oh, and be prepared for side effects.

 

BRENNAN: Nausea, fever, insomnia.

 

HAL: In very rare cases, euphoria, dream state, mild hallucinations.

 

ANGELA: I’ll take that, please.

 

HAL: Early symptoms mimic a common cold.

 

GOODMAN: What if it manifests?

 

ZACK: First treatment protocol involves extremely painful injections into the base of the brain.

 

BOOTH: You know what?

 

[They all turn to face Booth, who is staring up towards the ceiling in somewhat of a daze.]

 

BOOTH: I never realized how pretty all this shiny stuff is.

 

HODGINS: That is so not fair.

 

[Cut to: What appears to be an autopsy room, Zack and Hodgins are laid out in opposite directions on two tables, tucked into blue sleeping bags.]

 

HODGINS: Tomorrow I was supposed to leave for Quebec. You wanna know the true meaning of Christmas? It’s being inside a 300-year-old inn with a French Canadian masseuse when there’s ten feet of snow outside.

 

ZACK: Christmas is going home to Michigan and heading into the woods with your brothers to cut a twelve foot Christmas tree, and you all decorate it together. Brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews. Forty people who all love you and are happy to see you. That, my friend, is the true meaning of Christmas.

 

HODGINS: Nah, I’m gonna have to go with the masseuse on this one.

 

[Cut to: An office, Goodman, in another blue sleeping bag, is laying across the couch with Booth nearby on the floor, on top of his sleeping bag.]

 

BOOTH: What are those little tiny lights dancing on the ceiling?

 

GOODMAN: For the third time, those are minute firings of neurons on your optic nerve due to your reaction to the antifungal cocktail.

 

BOOTH: Wow. They’re beautiful.

 

[Goodman chuckles.]

 

GOODMAN: You are stoned, Agent Booth.

 

[Booth laughs, too.]

 

BOOTH: Oh, good. Let’s hope it lasts long enough to keep this from being the worst Christmas of my life.

 

GOODMAN: What are you complaining about? I don’t like to boast, but I am the spirit of Christmas at my house. I have a wife, and twin five-year-old daughters.

 

[He pulls a photo out of his wallet and passes it to Booth.]

 

GOODMAN: We have family traditions, most important of which is being together for Christmas.

 

BOOTH: Wow. They’re beautiful.

 

[He passes the photo back.]

 

BOOTH: You know, I have a kid too.

 

[Booth pulls out a picture of his own.]

 

BOOTH: His name’s Parker. He’s four years old.

 

[He passes the photo of his son to Goodman.]

 

BOOTH: His mother wouldn’t marry me, so my parental rights are totally-

 

GOODMAN: Vague?

 

BOOTH: That word’s just a little bit Christmasier than what I was thinking.

 

[Goodman passes the picture back.]

 

GOODMAN: He’s a fine looking boy.

 

BOOTH: I get him part of Christmas day. I get him an excellent present every year, something really cool. But, uh, this year…

 

GOODMAN: Yes. This year.

 

BOOTH: What are those little lights on the ceiling again?

 

[Goodman just smirks and shakes his head.]

 

[Cut to: Another office. Brennan and Angela are laid out on the floor in their sleeping bags.]

 

ANGELA: I know it’s against your nature, but I need your help.

 

BRENNAN: For what?

 

ANGELA: To make Christmas.

 

BRENNAN: Why? Because we’re the girls?

 

ANGELA: Yes. We have to decorate and we have to make our own Secret Santa.

 

BRENNAN: You called it Secret Satan before.

 

ANGELA: It’s all so tragic. A cheap wedding ring sewn into his suit, two tickets to Paris. It makes you wonder. Who was the girl? Can you imagine what it was like for her, waiting and wondering, never knowing what happened.

 

BRENNAN: I don’t have to imagine.

 

ANGELA: What do you mean?

 

BRENNAN: I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do for Christmas.

 

ANGELA: Good, thank you. At last you decide to take part.

 

BRENNAN: I’m gonna solve a murder.

 

[She gets out of her sleeping bag and leaves.]

 

[Cut to: Lab platform. Brennan’s looking into a microscope. The text on the screen reads: DECEMBER 24TH. Booth jumps up on the opposite side of the platform, arms in the air, with an elf hat on his head.]

 

BOOTH: Bones, it’s after midnight. Hmm? Christmas Eve day. Both an eve and a day. It’s a Christmas miracle.

 

BRENNAN: Still enjoying your medication, I see.

 

[He comes over and takes a seat next to Brennan.]

 

BOOTH: Okay, so, what are we looking at?

 

BRENNAN: There are traces of lead and nickel in the dead guy’s osteological profile.

 

BOOTH: You don’t seem too upset about missing Christmas.

 

BRENNAN: Indications are that Christ, if he existed, was born in late spring and that the celebration of his birth was shifted to coincide with the pagan rite of the winter solstice so that early Christians weren’t persecuted.

 

BOOTH: Hmm. What are you, like, the Christmas killer?

 

BRENNAN: It’s the truth.

 

BOOTH: It sounds like the truth ‘cause it’s so rational, right? But, you know, the true truth is that you just- you hate Christmas, so you just spout out all these facts and you ruin it for everyone else.

 

BRENNAN: I ruin the true truth with facts?

 

BOOTH: Yeah, and you ruin it for the squint squad too by making them work on a case about a guy who’s been sealed up in a fallout shelter for fifty years.

 

BRENNAN: Well, how would you like me to spend my Christmas?

 

BOOTH: Christmas is the perfect time to reexamine your standing with, you know…

 

[He points upward.]

 

BRENNAN: A helicopter pilot?

 

BOOTH: Oh, right, right. You can’t measure the man upstairs in a beaker, so he can’t possibly exist.

 

BRENNAN: The man upstairs?

 

BOOTH: Mmm. You know, you don’t know if you’re sick, but you’re more than willing to take drugs just in case. It seems to me you could give the man upstairs the same benefit of the doubt that you do an invisible fungus.

 

[He leaves.]

 

[Cut to: Later, the lower level of the lab. Booth is doing pull-ups on a support bar as Zack and Hodgins come down the stairs.]

 

ZACK: In some cases of valley fever, suppurating skin lesions appear.

 

HODGINS: Could someone in a position of responsibility please order Zack to shut up?

 

[The three men walk over to Goodman, who is standing near a cart of breakfast food as Angela enters from another direction.]

 

ANGELA: Coffee. Coffee.

 

GOODMAN: Good morning, Miss Montenegro.

 

ANGELA: Where’d this come from?

 

GOODMAN: Hazmat team brought it over early this morning. Very appetizing.

 

[He turns to Booth.]

 

GOODMAN: Are you back with us?

 

BOOTH: Yeah, think so.

 

ANGELA: Since we’re gonna be stuck together for Christmas, we should make the most of it.

 

BOOTH: How?

 

ANGELA: We’ll decorate this place and exchange handmade gifts.

 

GOODMAN: An excellent idea, Miss Montenegro.

 

ZACK: I can get behind that.

 

HODGINS: I’m in.

 

GOODMAN: As am I.

 

BOOTH: How ‘bout Bones?

 

[Goodman, Hodgins, and Zack all shake their heads.]

 

BOOTH: Aw, come on. What’s the deal with Bones and Christmas?

 

ANGELA: Last night I spun a little story about two young lovers running off to Paris. But the man never shows up, and the woman is left wondering what happened to him. And I say, “Imagine what that must have been like.” And Brennan says, “I don’t have to.”

 

BOOTH: Yeah I- I still don’t get it.

 

GOODMAN: Oh my God.

 

BOOTH: What?

 

ANGELA: Brennan’s parents disappeared just before Christmas when she was fifteen.

 

GOODMAN: And she never knew what happened to them.

 

BOOTH: Oh, God. That explains a lot.

 

HODGINS: Mm, yeah.

 

GOODMAN: Yeah.

 

ANGELA: Alright, we need a way to choose our Secret Santas.

 

ZACK: I could build a random generator.

 

GOODMAN: Ah, wouldn’t it be better to match complimentary people in a premeditated manner?

 

HODGINS: I’ve got five numbers in my head and five letters. You tell me the number and I’ll tell you the matching letter.

 

[As the three of them argue, Booth and Angela begin their own method of choosing, Booth writing names on paper.]

 

GOODMAN: Are the letters sequential or the numbers sequential?

 

HODGINS: Sequential, we’ll go in order from oldest to youngest.

 

ZACK: Six.

 

HODGINS: There’s no six.

 

GOODMAN: A through E and one through five.

 

[Booth clears his throat to interrupt them, holding up a metal container with the names in it.]

 

BOOTH: Pick a name, and if you get your own, put it back in.

 

GOODMAN: Oh, that could work.

 

HODGINS: Yeah, that’s good.

 

ANGELA: Good idea.

 

[Cut to: One of the catwalks above the central lab platform. Booth follows Brennan as she reads paperwork.]

 

BOOTH: Feds seized the house is from a man named Gil Adkins in the sixties. Proceeds of crime from fencing, dealing in jewels, stolen art. Adkins built the shelter in ’51, he sealed it in ’58, he died in ’83. What do you got?

 

BRENNAN: Uh, nothing much special about our victim. You know about the toupee? Below average height, below average weight, a little frail. Had a bad back. He had a hunch, maybe from paperwork.

 

BOOTH: Yeah, so basically a wimp.

 

[Brennan hands him a paper.]

 

BRENNAN: Contents of his pockets.

 

BOOTH: Compass, pen knife, some change. Listen, I got Goodman for this Secret Santa thing, and I don’t know what to get-

 

BRENNAN: Anthropologically speaking, gifts are a way of asserting dominance in a group. Now imagine an entire holiday devoted to self-promotion, especially in this materialistic culture. How can you expect me to get behind that? How can you get behind it?

 

BOOTH: Wow, that’s deep. That’s a very deep pile of crap.

 

BRENNAN: You came to me with information this morning. A peace offering. But it was to make you feel better, not me. Proves my point.

 

[She points to the photo.]

 

BRENNAN: Any idea with this is?

 

BOOTH: No.

 

BRENNAN: Me neither. Try Dr. Goodman.

 

[She starts to walk away.]

 

BOOTH: You know, Bones, you make it very, very hard for me to be nice to you.

 

[Cut to: Hodgins, Angela, Zack, and Goodman, sifting through various science supplies in an effort to make Christmas decorations.]

 

ANGELA: We have to be extremely creative.

 

HODGINS: Maybe string a bunch of test tubes together, fill ‘em with luminescent liquids.

 

ANGELA: Nice. Very festive.

 

ZACK: They’ll probably give us cancer.

 

GOODMAN: That would be fitting this Christmas.

 

ANGELA: Tidings of joy, gentlemen. Tidings of joy.

 

GOODMAN: Decorations do not a Christmas make. Family and friends make Christmas.

 

HODGINS: We’re friends.

 

[Goodman only looks at him.]

 

HODGINS: We’re… not friends.

 

GOODMAN: We are colleagues, friends, coworkers, yes, but for a father like myself, like Agent Booth-

 

[Everyone else pauses and looks at him.]

 

GOODMAN: -a few glowing test tubes don’t make up with missing Christmas morning with the children.

 

ANGELA: Excuse me?

 

ZACK: Be kind, rewind.

 

HODGINS: Booth has a kid?

 

GOODMAN: Ah. Well… Not common knowledge, I gather.

 

[Cut to: Bone storage room. Booth has the contents of the suitcase laid out on a table. Goodman enters.]

 

GOODMAN: I, ah, see you’ve decided to help Dr. Brennan with the case.

 

BOOTH: Oh, you know, if Angela’s right, sure, why not. I mean… a little something for Bones. Call it Christmas spirit.

 

GOODMAN: My thoughts exactly. Um, I thought I might take a look at the contents of the suitcase with you.

 

BOOTH: Why?

 

GOODMAN: Ah, it beats cobbling together Christmas decorations out of pipettes and graduated cylinders.

 

BOOTH: No, I mean, what makes you qualified to look at clues?

 

GOODMAN: Well, I’m an archeologist. I’m good with artifacts. Do you mind?

 

BOOTH: No. Archeologist? I thought you were an administrator.

 

GOODMAN: I didn’t start out that way.

 

[He begins to look over the objects on the table.]

 

GOODMAN: He was fastidious. Everything neatly folded as thought by a trained valet.

 

[He picks up a shirt.]

 

GOODMAN: This man was by no means wealthy. All the clothing is well-used and mended.

 

BOOTH (looking at the shirt’s tag): Yeah, ‘Blackman and Ball, Fine Tailors, Washington D.C.’ The rest of his clothes are all labeled from Tulsa, Oklahoma.

 

[Goodman picks up some papers.]

 

GOODMAN: Huh. Female handwriting.

 

BOOTH: How’d you get that?

 

GOODMAN: After Cuneiform, handwriting is a snap. ‘Dearest Lionel…’

 

BOOTH: No envelopes, no return address.

 

GOODMAN: No signature either, just this drawing of a leaf. It seems to be dated from the summer of 1957 through to winter of 1958. With your permission, I’ll read these?

 

BOOTH: Yeah. Bones thought you might know what, uh, this is here.

 

[Goodman picks up the small object with tweezers as Booth answers his ringing cell phone.]

 

BOOTH (into phone): Oh. Hey, Rebecca. Yeah, thanks for calling. You heard what happened, right?

 

GOODMAN (examining the object): Seems to be some kind of a pouch.

 

BOOTH (into phone): You don’t have to see me. Sid agreed to bring him by. Don’t make me beg.

 

[Goodman takes notice of Booth’s conversation and appears to sympathize with him.]

 

BOOTH (into phone): Thank you.

 

[He hangs up.]

 

GOODMAN: Everything alright?

 

BOOTH: Yeah.

 

[Cut to: Brennan and Hodgins walking across one of the catwalks.]

 

HODGINS: Puparia show Lionel had valley fever.

 

BRENNAN: We sort of knew that.

 

HODGINS: Wow, was that a shot? Because I apologized. I mean, Goodman doesn’t get to see his family, Zack doesn’t get to see his kids, Booth doesn’t get to see his son. At least I’m an accidental Grinch. All due respect, you’re the Grinch on purpose.

 

BRENNAN: I have no idea what you’re saying to me.

 

HODGINS: The Grinch is a relatively well-known creation of a children’s author named Dr. Seuss. Listen, I got Angela for my Secret Santa thing and what I wanna do is blow up a microscopic image of the toxic mold Stachybotrys chartarum because I know she’s very interested in fractal imagery. I thought that might appeal to her aesthetically. Do you agree?

 

BRENNAN: I’m not really who you want to talk to about gifts. Wait- Booth has a kid?

 

HODGINS: You didn’t know?

 

BRENNAN: No.

 

HODGINS: I wasn’t the one who told you.

 

[He leaves.]

 

[Cut to: Upper lounge, Booth is talking on his cell phone, Brennan standing a ways behind him.]

 

BOOTH (into phone): Fall, 1958, heavyweight suit, kinda small, wool, black, first name Lionel, that’s all I got… Thanks, I appreciate it, you know, it being Christmas Eve and all. I’ll hold.

 

[He turns to Brennan.]

 

BOOTH: Lionel had a suit here made in town. The tailor shop, it still exists. His grandson owns it. But get this: they kept their records. We may be able to find Careful Lionel’s last name.

 

BRENNAN: Careful Lionel?

 

BOOTH: Yeah. Little guy, toupee, drank a vitamin tonic, carried his own compass, all of his stuff just so. Careful Lionel. What was he so worried about?

 

BRENNAN: Well, considering how he ended up… Wait, you have a son?

 

BOOTH: Yeah.

 

BRENNAN: You’ve never mentioned that.

 

BOOTH: Well, nothing brings people together like a Christmas lung fungus.

 

[He turns back to his cell phone.]

 

BOOTH (into phone): Yes… That’s great… When? … Great. Thank you. Merry Christmas.

 

[He hangs up.]

 

BOOTH: Lionel Little. ‘Kay, he picked up his new suit November 7th, 1958. He paid cash. He was supposed to come back the next day for a shirt. But get this: he never showed up. It was his wedding shirt.

 

[Brennan sneezes.]

 

BOOTH: Whoa, bless you.

 

[They both realize what that could mean, eyes wide.]

 

BOOTH: Uh oh. Is that valley fever? Bones…

 

[Cut to: The group eating take out food and laughing at a table in the bone storage room, two television screens with animated hearths, compete with stockings hanging over a roaring fire, are in the background.]

 

HODGINS: So if Lionel was a coin collector, that might explain the levels of lead and nickel in his bone.

 

ZACK: When do they insert the needle into your brain?

 

BRENNAN: I sneezed because the air is dry. It’s not valley fever.

 

GOODMAN: Any other symptoms? Headache?

 

ZACK: Any foul smelling pustules on your shins?

 

BOOTH: Look, she sneezed twice, that’s it. Did you find anything else about the letters?

 

GOODMAN: Quite a lot, yes. They are very, very passionate love letters.

 

BOOTH: Careful Lionel had a girlfriend.

 

GOODMAN: A girlfriend who was in trouble.

 

ANGELA: ‘Pregnant,’ in trouble?

 

HODGINS: Whoa, apparently Careful Lionel wasn’t so careful.

 

BOOTH: Unmarried pregnant girl in Oklahoma in the late fifties…

 

GOODMAN: You suppose Lionel came up here to procure an abortion?

 

ANGELA: You know what? This isn’t a very Christmas Eve type story.

 

BRENNAN: Of course it is. The whole Christ myth is built upon the travails of an unwed mother.

 

BOOTH: Okay, can we just stop bringing up the whole Christ myth thing? Alright, some people believe it’s more than just a myth.

 

BRENNAN: Well, who besides you?

 

GOODMAN: That would be me, Dr. Brennan. I’m a deacon at my church.

 

ANGELA: I do. Christmas and Easter, anyway.

 

HODGINS: Although I believe organized religion is just another political movement designed to control the masses, doesn’t mean God doesn’t love me.

 

[Brennan looks to Zack.]

 

ZACK: Hey, I’m a rational empiricist all the way. Unless you talk to my mother. Then I’m Lutheran.

 

BRENNAN: I can understand why you’d be sensitive, Booth. You have a child out of wedlock.

 

[There’s a moment of tense silence.]

 

ANGELA: Sweetie…

 

BRENNAN: What?

 

GOODMAN: The letters display a combination of both block and cursive.

 

ANGELA: A combination of both printing and writing?

 

GOODMAN: It would indicate that she may have left school some time in the second grade. Most white children in those days would obtain at least an eighth grade education.

 

BRENNAN: She was African American?

 

GOODMAN: Why I believe so, yes.

 

HODGINS: Is there any way Lionel was an African American?

 

BRENNAN: No, no he was definitely Caucasian.

 

ANGELA: A white man and a pregnant black girl in 1958 Oklahoma.

 

ZACK: That was bad?

 

GOODMAN: It was illegal.

 

HODGINS: In Okalahoma?

 

GOODMAN: Not just Oklahoma, here in D.C.

 

ANGELA: Then why come here?

 

BOOTH: They were running away. Lionel had two tickets to Paris, and where else in 1958 could a white man and a black woman get married and live together?

 

OS: HAL: Visiting hours, folks.

 

[Hal stands in the doorway in a protective suit.]

 

HAL: Who’s first?

 

GOODMAN: As director of this institution, I claim that right.

 

[He quickly stands and leaves.]

 

ANGELA: Okay, brief announcement. You guys might recognize my dad, but I don’t really want to talk about it, so, thanks. Okay? That’s all.

 

[Cut to: Lab sliding glass doors. ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ begins to play as we see clips of Booth, then Hodgins, then Goodman, then Angela waiting impatiently for their family members to arrive on the opposite side.]

 

[Cut to: Goodman. He has a device on his ear, presumably to let him speak with those on the other side of the door. His face lights up as his wife and daughters appear. He crouches down and waves at them.]

 

[Cut to: Hodgins. A brunette woman in a blue jacket, appearing to be his girlfriend, appears on the other side of the door to visit.]

 

[Cut to: Booth, waiting, arms crossed.]

 

[Cut to: Angela. Her father, a ZZ Top member, appears, and she smiles.]

 

[Cut to: Brennan, off to the side, watching her coworkers interact with their families.]

 

[Cut to: Zack. On the other side of the door from him is a large group of family members. They all wave, and he laughs.]

 

[Cut to: Booth. Sid appears on the opposite side of the glass with Parker. Booth crouches down to his son’s level, smiling.]

 

[Cut to: Hodgins. He kisses his girlfriend through the glass.]

 

[Cut to: Zack. A middle aged man on the other side of the door tells a story, wildly gesticulating, and the group laughs.]

 

[Cut to: Brennan, off to the side, smiling.]

 

[Cut to: Booth. He and his son both put their hands up to the glass.]

 

[Cut to: Angela, who does the same as she talks with her father.]

 

[Cut to: Hodgins. Both he and the woman put their hands up to the glass as well, over the lipstick marks on the door.]

 

[Cut to: Goodman, who puts his hand up to the door against that of one of his daughters.]

 

[Cut to: Zack. All his family members have a hand up to the glass, and he walks down the door, pressing his hand against each one.]

 

[Cut to: Angela, then Hodgins, then Zack, then Goodman, then Booth all say goodbye and watch as their visitors leave.]

 

[Cut to: Angela’s office. On the Angelator is a three-dimensional Christmas tree. Brennan stands looking at it as Angela enters behind her.]

 

ANGELA: You like it?

 

BRENNAN: It’s very beautiful.

 

ANGELA: It’s not done yet. We can put our presents under there, and we can… You think it’s stupid.

 

BRENNAN: No, Ange. What were your Christmas plans?

 

[They make their way to the couch and sit down.]

 

ANGELA: My dad and I get together, somewhere quiet, exchange gifts. Just the two of us. Since I was a kid, getting some time alone with my dad was always difficult. What is it with you and gifts, anyway?

 

[Brennan doesn’t answer, looking away.]

 

ANGELA: I know your parents disappeared just before Christmas.

 

BRENNAN: My brother Russ was nineteen and we were still in the house.

 

ANGELA: That must’ve been strange.

 

[Brennan gives a small nod.]

 

BRENNAN: Russ found our presents in my parents’ room…

 

[Booth arrives in the doorway. Brennan, with her back to him, doesn’t notice.]

 

BRENNAN: …and Christmas Eve, when I was asleep, he snuck down and made Christmas, trying to do the right thing for me.

 

ANGELA: Christmas for his little sister.

 

BRENNAN: But when I came down and saw the lights and the presents…

 

ANGELA: You thought your parents were back.

 

BRENNAN: I just expected to see them, sitting there, drinking their coffee, watching Russ and me open our presents.

 

ANGELA: Oh my God.

 

BRENNAN: I kind of lost it. I refused to open the presents until they came back… It was like I told Russ he wasn’t enough family for me. Before New Years, he went out west to work and I was in the foster system.

 

BOOTH: Excuse me… We have Lionel’s Missing Persons file.

 

BRENNAN: The tree is really, really beautiful, Ange. Really.

 

[She gets up and leaves.]

 

[Cut to: Catwalk above the main lab. Goodman, Booth, and Brennan are sitting on the edge, their legs dangling over the side.]

 

BOOTH: Lionel Little was born May 19th, 1934, Tulsa Oklahoma.

 

GOODMAN: 24 years old.

 

BRENNAN: Fits the remains.

 

BOOTH: According to the Missing Persons report lodged by his boss in January of 1960, Lionel Little worked as a lease inspector for Silver Cloud Petroleum out of Tulsa, Oklahoma.

 

GOODMAN: Basically an accountant.

 

BOOTH: Yeah. You know what, you were right about Lionel’s coin collection. When Lionel vanished, so did most of his extensive coin collection. That was attached to the file.

 

GOODMAN: Did the coins ever show up?

 

BOOTH: Yeah, though D.C., Maryland, Virginia, Pennsylvania. The sales were traced to a Gil Adkins. Yeah, he made out about eight thousand dollars selling those coins.

 

BRENNAN: Adkins killed Lionel for a coin collection?

 

GOODMAN: Eight thousand dollars in 1958 translates to roughly sixty-four thousand dollars.

 

BOOTH: Careful Lionel gets a young black girl pregnant, he sells his coin collection so he can them move to Paris and they can live together.

 

GOODMAN: He offers the coins for sale to Adkins, who figures it’d be easier to kill the country bumpkin and steal the coins.

 

BOOTH: Oh, also, um, the last person to see Lionel was a woman who cleaned his office, Ivy Gillespie.

 

GOODMAN: What’s the significance of that?

 

BOOTH: Does this look like an ivy leaf to you?

 

[Booth passes Goodman one of the letters, pointing to the leaf signature on the bottom.]

 

GOODMAN: Ivy Gillespie. Race: Negro.

 

BRENNAN: Oh my God.

 

OS: ANGELA: You have to find her.

 

[Angela appears below them, on the lab platform.]

 

ANGELA: Ivy.

 

GOODMAN: Ivy Gillespie may not even be alive and if she is, this could be a reminder of an extremely painful time of her life. What would we accomplish?

 

ANGELA: You have to find the girl and tell her what you know.

 

[She looks to Brennan.]

 

ANGELA: Don’t you see? You can give her the answer that you never got.

 

BRENNAN: Angela.

 

ANGELA: I’m sorry, sweetie, but it’s true. You have a chance here.

 

BRENNAN: To say what? “Merry Christmas, Ivy Gillespie, your fiancé was murdered and your life was ruined, but hey, at least you get to know what happened to him.”?

 

ANGELA: Don’t you wish somebody had said that to you?

 

[There’s a pause.]

 

BRENNAN: Yes.

 

[She gets up and exits.]

 

[Cut to: Later, Brennan’s office. She is working frantically to get in contact with Ivy Gillespie.]

 

BRENNAN (into phone): I realize it’s Christmas Eve, but it’s extremely important that I find Miss Ivy Gillespie. We know that she was a cleaning lady at the Silver Cloud Petroleum in 1958 and 1959. After that, we don’t know…

 

[Cut to: Hodgins working on his Secret Santa gift, concentrating on cutting a paper with an x-acto knife.]

 

VO: BRENNAN: I wouldn’t interrupt your Christmas-

 

[Cut to: Zack, working on his robot.]

 

VO: BRENNAN: except this is very, very important to a friend of mine. I don’t want to take time from your family

 

[Cut to: Goodman, working on his own Secret Santa gift.]

 

VO: BRENNAN: -but I have extremely important news for Miss Gillespie regarding a loved one.

 

[Cut to: Booth, with a stack of paper, cutting some of them.]

 

VO: BRENNAN: Do you have an address or a place of work or… anything?

 

[Cut to: Angela, drawing on a pad of paper.]

 

VO: BRENNAN: I’ve made dozens of calls this evening in an effort to track this woman down. It’s that important.

 

[Cut to: Brennan, on the phone, in her office. She hangs up the phone. Time lapse: she’s on the phone again.]

 

BRENNAN (into phone): Assisted living? Is her last name still Gillespie?

 

[We see Brennan using the internet to search for assisted living homes in Maryland.]

 

BRENNAN (into phone): Yes, Merry Christmas to you, too.

 

[Time lapse. Brennan is still on the phone. Angela enters in the background to put her Secret Santa gift under the tree. As Brennan talks on the phone, the others come in and put their gifts below the three-dimensional tree.]

 

BRENNAN (into phone): Hello? Yes, I was wondering if you could tell me if you have any guests there first name Ivy, born January 21st, 1934, she’d be African American… Yes, I apologize, I should’ve started with Merry Christmas.

 

[Time lapse: Angela is asleep on the couch, Brennan still on the phone. Text on the screen reads: CHRISTMAS DAY.]

 

BRENNAN (into phone): Date of birth is January 21st, 1934. She’s African American… Yes, Ivy. Her name is still Gillespie? Yes, if her granddaughter’s right there… Yes, hello, I’m Dr. Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian Institution in D.C. I have information that might be very interesting to your grandmother.

 

[Angela awakens and sits up.]

 

BRENNAN (into phone): I can be reached through the Medico-Legal lab here at the Jeffersonian. And tell her Merry Christmas.

 

[She hangs up.]

 

ANGELA: You found Ivy Gillespie.

 

[Brennan nods.]

 

BRENNAN: In an assisted living facility near Bethesda. I spoke to her granddaughter.

 

ANGELA: Thank you.

 

BRENNAN: She might not get in touch with us.

 

ANGELA: She will

 

BRENNAN: Because it’s Christmas?

 

ANGELA: Yes.

 

[Cut to: Brennan’s office. She’s seated at her desk, with some of Lionel’s things. She picks up one of the coins and slides it into the small pouch. Booth enters.]

 

BOOTH: You find something?

 

BRENNAN: Two things that fit together.

 

BOOTH: Angela sent me. She says it’s Christmas.

 

BRENNAN: Okay.

 

BOOTH: You still think there’s more to learn about Lionel Little and Ivy Gillespie?

 

BRENNAN: There’s always more to learn.

 

[He moves to leave.]

 

BRENNAN: Hey. I’m sorry you didn’t get Christmas morning with your little boy.

 

BOOTH: Thanks.

 

[He walks away.]

 

[Cut to: Angela’s office. The rest of the group is gathered, and Brennan enters.]

 

ANGELA: Good. Okay, everybody. Stand over here.

 

[She leads them nearer to the Angelator.]

 

ANGELA: Close your eyes.

 

[They do, and she fiddles with the control pad to bring up her three-dimensional Christmas tree, now complete.]

 

ANGELA: Open your eyes.

 

[They open their eyes, and impressed by the sight before them, commend Angela on her work with kind words and applause. They all hug and shake hands, wishing each other merry Christmas. As the group continues to fawn over the tree, Brennan slips out of the room.]

 

[Cut to: Angela’s office, later. The group is opening presents. Angela is working the wrapping off of her gift.]

 

ANGELA: Look at all these gifts!

 

BOOTH: We should be drinking eggnog while we’re doing this.

 

ANGELA: I wonder what this is.

 

[She pulls out the framed picture.]

 

ANGELA: Oh my God. It’s beautiful. What is it?

 

HODGINS: It’s… prettier if you don’t know the details.

 

GOODMAN: That is beautiful.

 

ANGELA: Thank you.

 

[Goodman is next, opening his box.]

 

GOODMAN: I wonder what it is.

 

ANGELA: What did you get?

 

[He pulls out an intricately crafted bird made out of paper.]

 

GOODMAN: Very impressive.

 

OS: HODGINS: Whoa…

 

GOODMAN: You made this?

 

BOOTH: Yeah.

 

GOODMAN: Thank you.

 

ZACK: I’m next.

 

[He slides the tie off of his present, a rolled-up sheet of paper.]

 

ANGELA: It’s from me.

 

[He unrolls the paper to see a drawing of a large group of people.]

 

ZACK: It’s my family. And me. Thank you.

 

ANGELA: You’re welcome.

 

[Hodgins opens his gift, pulling out a replica of a beetle.]

 

GOODMAN: Arabara sassar.

 

HODGINS: A sacred scarab. That is excellently rendered, sir. Thank you.

 

ANGELA: That’s cool.

 

GOOMAN: You’re very welcome.

 

[Booth opens up his gift, pulling out the small robot.]

 

BOOTH: Wow. Zack, that’s, uh-

 

ZACK: Self-propelled, nonautonomic unit.

 

HODGINS: It’s a robot.

 

ZACK: I thought if we get out of here in time today, you could give it to your son.

 

BOOTH: Merry Christmas.

 

[He gives Zack a vigorous, enthusiastic handshake.]

 

OS: ANGELA: Oh, Zack.

 

BOOTH: Thanks a lot.

 

ZACK: You’re welcome.

 

[They each look down at their gifts with fondness.]

 

[Cut to: Brennan sitting in her office, staring at an enlarged photo of the earlier coin from the pouch on her computer screen. Booth enters.]

 

BOOTH: Look, Bones, here’s the thing. What if a gift goes both ways? What’s wrong with that?

 

BRENNAN: Look at this.

 

BOOTH: Yeah, it’s a penny.

 

BRENNAN: It’s not just a penny, it’s a 1943 bronze one-cent piece.

 

BOOTH: Look, all I’m saying is maybe the real gift is when you accept something with a little grace.

 

BRENNAN (holding up the coin): Over a billion pennies were minted in 1943, most of them in steel to conserve copper for World War II, but a handful were struck in an old style bronze planchette. Only about twelve of them exist today.

 

BOOTH: Whoa. And this is one of ‘em?

 

BRENNAN: Yes.

 

BOOTH: Huh. How much is it worth?

 

BRENNAN: Over a hundred thousand dollars.

 

[Booth places the coin back in Brennan’s hand extremely carefully.]

 

BRENNAN: Lionel never showed Gil Adkins the best part of his collection. Adkins murdered him, never knew there was a fortune in his pocket.

 

BOOTH: Well, it looks like Careful Lionel got the last laugh.

 

[Goodman appears in the doorway.]

 

GOODMAN: Ready? It’s time for our test results.

 

[Cut to: Lab entryway. Hal and another man are in protective suits around a machine with two monitors. The Jeffersonian group waits on the lab steps. The top monitor flashes a green bar.]

 

BOOTH: Green, green. Is that green as in go, or green as… stick a needle in your brain?

 

[Hal takes off the head covering of the suit.]

 

HAL: Merry Christmas.

 

[Everyone but Brennan hurries off of the stairs as the doors unlock with a loud buzzing noise.]

 

HODGINS: Yes! We are outta here! Merry Christmas everyone!

 

[After the rest of the group has left, Booth hesitates and turns back toward Brennan.]

 

BRENNAN: Go. Go have Christmas. Wish your boy merry Christmas for me.

 

BOOTH: I’m at Wong Foo’s if you decide you want company.

 

[She gives a small nod of understanding.]

 

BOOTH: Merry Christmas, Bones.

 

[He leaves. Brennan turns to walk back up through the lab.]

 

OS: LISA: Excuse me.

 

[Brennan turns back to see two black women entering. She walks over to them.]

 

LISA: Hi, my name is Lisa Pearce, and this is my grandmother Ivy Gillespie. Are you Dr. Brennan?

 

BRENNAN: Yes.

 

[Cut to: Brennan’s office. Ivy is seated on the couch, examining the wedding band from Lionel’s jacket. Lisa sits and Brennan stands nearby.]

 

IVY: I gave birth to a half-white in Oklahoma, 1960. Lionel’s daughter. Raised her myself. No education. Got her to college. She died eight years ago.

 

LISA: And grandma raised me after that.

 

IVY: Her mother was a nurse, and Lisa’s gonna be a doctor.

 

LISA: Grandma, I can’t afford college.

 

[Ivy shakes her head.]

 

IVY: So Lionel was murdered?

 

BRENNAN: In 1959, yes, by a man named Gil Adkins.

 

IVY: And you can figure that out all this time later?

 

BRENNAN: He had these.

 

[She hands Ivy the tickets from the suitcase. Upon looking at them, Ivy is touched.]

 

IVY: Tickets to Paris?

 

LISA: Grandma, isn’t that what he promised you? A life in France?

 

IVY: I thought the worst of him.

 

LISA: Thank you, Dr. Brennan.

 

BRENNAN: I have something even better.

 

[She hands Lisa the penny.]

 

IVY: What could be better, if giving me back my life?

 

LISA: It’s a penny.

 

BRENNAN: There’s something you oughta know about that penny.

 

[Cut to: Wong Foo’s. Brennan walks through the door and sits herself next to Booth at the bar. Sid approaches, Santa hat on his head, with glasses of eggnog.]

 

BRENNAN: Drinks.

 

SID: Ah, yes. Christmas spirits, well, the come in many a guise.

 

BOOTH: Cheers.

 

[All three clink glasses.]

 

BRENNAN: Ivy Gillespie came to the lab after you left, with her granddaughter.

 

[Booth only smiles.]

 

BRENNAN: Don’t you want to know what happened?

 

BOOTH: I know what happened. You told her about Careful Lionel. You showed her the letters, the tickets. She cried. But you made her happy.

 

BRENNAN: Not to mention I gave her a penny worth over a hundred thousand dollars.

 

BOOTH: She won’t care about that today. You just gave somebody the best Christmas gift they could every get. Who’s the Secret Santa now?

 

[He nudges at her with his elbow playfully.]

 

BRENNAN: Stop.

 

[Zack’s small robot, on the counter nearby, leans forward and starts doing push-ups in response to Brennan’s voice.]

 

BOOTH: Whoa.

 

[They laugh.]

 

BOOTH: And that weirdo assistant of yours just made me the coolest dad in the world.

 

OS: PARKER: Daddy!

 

[Parker comes running towards Booth.]

 

PARKER: Daddy!

 

[Booth picks him up and kisses him on the cheek.]

 

BOOTH (handing him the robot): Hey, look. Look at this thing.

 

PARKER: Can it flip?

 

BOOTH: How cool, it can flip, trip, swim, whatever you want.

 

[He leans close to Parker’s ear.]

 

BOOTH (in a whisper): Can you say ‘Merry Christmas’?

 

PARKER (to Brennan): Merry Christmas!

 

[Brennan waves to Parker, who returns the gesture, before Booth turns and leaves. Parker waves again over his father’s shoulder as he’s carried off.]

 

BOOTH: Okay, big guy…

 

[Cut to: The empty lab. All the lights and decorations switch on. Brennan is standing at the foot of the lab platform. ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ begins to play in the background.]

 

[Cut to: Brennan’s office. She pulls a green box out of a cabinet behind her desk.]

 

[Cut to: Angela’s office. The green box is open underneath the three-dimensional Christmas tree. Brennan takes one of the few gifts inside over to the couch. The envelope with the present has her first name on it, and she opens it, pulling out a Christmas card of a Santa with sunglasses, the front reading ‘Ho! Ho! Ho!’ and the inside reading ‘Merry Christmas!’. Underneath the generic message is written, in pen, ‘To our Temperance, Much Love, Mom and Dad, Merry Christmas’. She sets the card down and picks up the present. She peels off some of the wrapping paper and pulls out a plain white box. She opens up the box, looks inside, and smiles, teary eyed.]

 

[Fade to black.]

 

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