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2x19transcript

Page history last edited by PBworks 12 years, 3 months ago

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"Player Under Pressure"

Episode 2x19

Written by: Janet Tamaro

Directed by: Jessica Landaw

Transcribed by vanima_luhta


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.


 

TEASER

 

(Open: Atlantic State University gymnasium. Brennan and Booth exit the car amid the flashing lights of police cruisers.)

 

BRENNAN: Wow. I guess there’s life on this campus after all.

 

BOOTH: Oh what? You’ve been here before?

 

BRENNAN: I guest lectured last year. Forensic science majors. Four students showed up. Just four!

 

BOOTH: Four? What was your topic?

 

BRENNAN: Dimorphic distinctions within the human thoracic cavity.

 

BOOTH: Boy, and just four whole people showed up, huh?

 

(Brennan gives Booth a look.)

 

BRENNAN: The dean blamed it on some game halfway across the country.

 

BOOTH: C’mon, this is Atlantic State University, home of the Jaguars. Okay, other than sex and beer, nothing is more important to these kids than their basketball team.

 

BRENNAN: What about academics?

 

BOOTH: Tell you what, you bring your little, uh, didactic thoracic, uh, speech here any other time of the year and, uh, you’ll draw maybe five, five and a half easy.

 

BRENNAN: Dimorphic, not didactic. (Booth and Brennan enter gymnasium.)

 

(Cut to: Inside of gymnasium, the bleachers are being rolled out.)

 

FBI AGENT CARLIE BURNS: Student employee named Justine Berry opened up the practice gym. Campus police called us because they didn’t know what to make of what they found.

 

BOOTH: (slaps the other FBI agent on the back) Yeah, I got it. (Chief Jack Cutler approaches.) FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth, that there is uh, that’s Dr. Brennan.

 

CUTLER: Chief Jack Cutler, campus police. Justine was opening up the gym after the four day weekend.

 

(Brennan, Booth and Cutler approach a gothic looking student.)

 

BOOTH: You work here Miss Berry?

 

JUSTINE: What the hell? You know what I mean?

 

BRENNAN: Not at all.

 

JUSTINE: Second I unlock the door, the smell just… (Looks to Culter) right?

 

(Brennan, Booth and Cutler walk toward the back of the bleachers.)

 

CUTLER: The bleachers fold out. You need a key to open or shut them. Whatever got caught back here, it sure as hell ain’t an animal.

 

BOOTH: Whoa, it?

 

BRENNAN: Sounds interesting

 

(Cut to: Brennan and Booth entering the back of the bleachers.)

 

BOOTH: Oh, hey. Y’know, last time I was under the bleachers, I was, uh, getting ready to smoke a cigarette and make out with Vanessa Taylor.

 

(Brennan pulls on some gloves.)

 

BRENNAN: I didn’t know you smoked.

 

BOOTH: Eighth grade, Bones. Huh? C’mon, didn’t you ever get naughty with a jock under the bleachers?

 

BRENNAN: Wait. You were a jock?

 

BOOTH: Well, you know you had to be one if you wanted to make out with Vanessa Taylor.

 

(They come upon a mass of liquefied remains over which flies are buzzing and maggots are crawling. It is a body that was clearly squished beneath the bleachers into a grate in the wall.)

 

BOOTH: What is it?

 

BONES: Male. (Sniffs) Smell that?

 

BOOTH: You’re kidding.

 

BONES: Well, I don’t mean decomp. Alcohol.

 

BOOTH: Vagrant passes out by the heating grate and somebody closes up the bleachers.

 

(A squeaking sound and movement come from the deceased’s clothes.)

 

BOOTH: Whoa! (Steps back quickly.)

 

BRENNAN: (Smiling, she lifts a rat by its tail.) That would account for the accelerated decomp.

 

BOOTH: (Whistles.)

 

BRENNAN: (Pulls back some of the clothing.) And the babies.

 

BOOTH: Baby rats?

 

BRENNAN: Yeah. We’ll need them.

 

BOOTH: ‘Kay, um. Yeah, uh. Chief Cutler, you got a rat carrier?

 

(Cut to: Chief Cutler at the end of the bleachers.)

 

CUTLER: Yeah, I’ll find something.

 

BRENNAN: We’ll need the floor.

 

(Cut to: Booth’s look of disbelief.)

 

BOOTH: The floor?

 

BRENNAN: And whatever got pushed through that grate.

 

CUTLER: (Approaches with a gym bag.) Here you go, this do?

 

BOOTH: Yeah, that’ll be great. Just put that rat there in the rat motel and we’re good to go.

 

BRENNAN: We’ll need to take the pinkies or they’ll die.

 

BOOTH: Yeah, cause the world needs more rats. (Looks at the ring on Cutler’s finger.) Eighty-two Champs. Eighty-two Champs? Let me see that ring. (Looks at it more closely.) Wait a minute. Chief Cutler as in Jack “Cutter” Cutler?

 

CUTLER: Yeah, haven’t heard that one in a while.

 

BOOTH: Ha! Bones! You’re looking at the star point guard for one of the best college basketball teams, ever!

 

BRENNAN: Huh.

 

BOOTH: Drafted by the Detroit Pistons.

 

CUTLER: Knees blew out. Ended my career.

 

BRENNAN: (Picks up a chain off the deceased.) Booth.

 

BOOTH: Yeah? (Looks down at the chain, a number eleven dangling from it, then looks to Cutler.) Eleven.

 

CUTLER: (Shaking his head.) Oh my God, no.

 

BRENNAN: What?

 

BOOTH: Hey, did he wear one of these?

 

CUTLER: He never took it off.

 

BRENNAN: Who?

 

BOOTH: R.J. Manning. He’s one of the best college forwards in the conference. I mean, he was destined to be the number one pick.

 

BRENNAN: I don’t know what that means, but if this is Manning, that’s not going to happen.

 

(Astonished looks pass between Booth and Brennan before cutting to the remains where flies continue to buzz.)

 

 

 

ACT ONE

 

(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab- platform. Zack and Brennan conversing. Hodgins and Cam examining remains.)

 

ZACK: Eight seconds for the bleachers to close?

 

BRENNAN: According to the Chief of campus police.

 

ZACK: I don’t think the victim was killed by the bleachers.

 

HODGINS: What do you mean? Dude’s an accordion.

 

CAM: Well, what killed him if it wasn’t the bleachers closing?

 

ZACK: The skull shows evidence of powdering.

 

BRENNAN: Crushing would snap the bone. Multiple strikes lead to powdering.

 

ZACK: But, it is possible that the skull being forced through the grate caused the powdering. We’ll know more after the skull is reconstructed.

 

HODGINS: Man, the Jaguars will not be the same without R.J. Manning.

 

ZACK: Thirty plus points in his last five games. Forty plus in the last three.

 

BRENNAN: Ugh, not you guys, too.

 

HODGINS: Hey, R.J. Manning was going to be the next Kobe Bryant.

 

CAM: That explains why every news source in town wants to confirm his death.

 

BRENNAN: The ancient Greeks chased a ball made of animal skin wrapped around seeds. But that was a fertility rite played in the nude.

 

HODGINS: Nude? Count me in.

 

ZACK: I tend to look better fully clothed.

 

BRENNAN: (Examining the skull.) Both central and lateral maxillary incisors are implants.

 

ZACK: (Nodding.) That’s a match.

 

BRENNAN: (Looks from the screen where Manning’s picture is displayed to the rest of the group.) It’s Manning.

 

CAM: I’ll inform the press.

 

(Cam exits.)

 

BRENNAN: Zack, your priority is to classify the skull fractures.

 

HODGINS: (Chuckling.) Dude, you’re not going home for days.

 

(Zack gives Hodgins a dirty look.)

 

BRENNAN: The victim’s clothing and the chunk of floor should keep you pretty busy, too, Dr. Hodgins.

 

(Hodgins looks humbled.)

 

(Cut to: FBI Building- Conference Room. Brennan and Booth sit across the table from R.J.’s sisters, one called Kamaria, and George Francis.)

 

KAMARIA: (Clearly upset.) Sure it’s R.J. and not just somebody wearing his medallion?

 

BRENNAN: We matched your brother’s dental records.

 

GEORGE FRANCIS: That means it’s, it’s definitely R.J., Kamaria.

 

BOOTH: Are you R.J.’s lawyer?

 

FRANCIS: No, uh well, you could probably say that. I’m uh, I’m alumnus of Atlantic State. Um, what I do now is I volunteer my time to help the team with their finances and their scholarships, living arrangements.

 

BRENNAN: Did you all live together?

 

KAMARIA: No, R.J. lived on campus. But he still takes care of me and my little sister.

 

FRANCIS: Their parents passed away two years ago.

 

KAMARIA: We lived on R.J.’s scholarship and Mr. Francis got me a good job downtown.

 

(Cut to: Family picture of R.J., Kamaria and their little sister.)

 

BOOTH: Yeah, R.J. ever mention any trouble in his life lately? Arguments?

 

KAMARIA: (Shakes her head.) Only… (Looks to Francis who nods.)

 

FRANCIS: No, it’s okay, it’s okay.

 

KAMARIA: He had a fight with Mr. Francis.

 

BOOTH: Why did R.J. strike you?

 

FRANCIS: I dunno, he was an exhausted 20 year old man and I was treating him like a kid. (Shrugs)

 

KAMARIA: R.J. loved Mr. Francis. We all do. You can ask R.J.’s girlfriend.

 

FRANCIS: That’s Dallas Verona, she’s a cheerleader. Uh, also you know you should talk to Coach Morse. They were the two people closest to him, other than his family.

 

(Booth and Brennan look at each other.)

 

(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab. Hodgins is trying to stretch a turkey carcass over a replica of a human skull. Zack is looking over his shoulder.)

 

HODGINS: Dammit. I should have gotten a bigger turkey. Do you have a smaller skull?

 

ZACK: Do I have a smaller skull than whom?

 

HODGINS: (Exasperated.) I meant is there a smaller skull we can wrap in this turkey carcass.

 

(Cam enters.)

 

CAM: Boys, this better be good.

 

ZACK: It’s going to take me a very long time to reconstruct R.J. Manning’s skull. In order to discover whether he died from multiple blows…

 

HODGINS: Which suggests murder. (Speaking as he puts the turkey covered skull in a machine.)

 

ZACK: Or if the skull was crushed through the heating grate, just like this one…

 

HODGINS: We covered a skull with turkey meat.

 

ZACK: I calibrated the pounds per square inch from the closing bleachers.

 

HODGINS: And we filled the skull cavity with a gelatinous matrix.

 

CAM: (Nods.) Okay, turn it on.

 

(They all put on safety goggles and Hodgins rubs his hands together before turning on the machine. Hodgins and Zack bend down to watch the turkey come through the grate. It explodes and the gelatinous matrix splatters them in the face.)

 

CAM: (With gelatinous matrix on her face and in her hair.) By gelatinous matrix you meant ambrosia salad?

 

HODGINS: Gelatinous matrix sounded better.

 

ZACK: (Zack inspects the remains of the turkey and skull replica.) There’s absolutely no sign of powdering here.

 

HODGINS: Then R.J. Manning was killed by multiple strikes to the head.

 

(Zack nods. Cam nods and wipes some of the ambrosia salad from her chin, shaking her head as she exits.)

 

(Cut to: Booth and Brennan in the car, conversing.)

 

BOOTH: I tell you, George Francis does not care about that family.

 

BRENNAN: Kamaria seemed to like him.

 

BOOTH: Yeah well sure, because he paid the rent and made her brother a star. But, you know, he’s got a whole other agenda.

 

BRENNAN: How do you know?

 

BOOTH: ‘Cause, I was a college athlete. Guys like that, they’re always buzzin’ around campus.

 

BRENNAN: Why?

 

BOOTH: Why? Cause there’s millions of dollars at stake.

 

BRENNAN: For bouncing a ball?

 

BOOTH: Yeah, all that bouncing, you know, translates into dollars. From TV rights, revenue shares, uh, tournament fees.

 

BRENNAN: Well, I don’t understand what’s interesting about it.

 

BOOTH: Well, unlike you, most people enjoy a pastime that, uh, takes them out of their head.

 

BRENNAN: Takes them out of their head, like drugs and alcohol.

 

(Booth looks annoyed and Brennan’s cell phone rings.)

 

BRENNAN: Brennan. (Listens to the other end of the line for a moment then turns to Booth.) Hodgins and Zack proved that R.J. was murdered.

 

BOOTH: Murdered.

 

(Cut to: ASU gymnasium. The basketball team is listening to Coach Morse. Brennan and Booth stand to one side, listening.)

 

MORSE: We’ve suffered a loss, gentlemen. One of our brothers is gone. As a team, we grieve for him. But I tell you what you do not weep for, though. Lose the best damn power forward in this entire country.

 

(Cut to: Cheerleaders sitting on the bleachers.)

 

(Cut back to: Coach Morse talking to the team.)

 

MORSE: Colby Page is not shedding tears because we lost a power forward, is he?

 

COLBY: No, sir!

 

MORSE: How do I know that? Cause Colby Page is going to step right up and take R.J.’s position. This is his opportunity and it’s good that he sees it as such. Colby.

 

COLBY: (Bows his head along with the rest of the team, to pray. His voice is choked with emotion.) Father God, accept our brother, R.J. Manning, into your loving arms. Give us the faith and the strength to carry on. Amen.

 

TEAM: Amen.

 

(Booth crosses himself.)

 

MORSE: Now you boys go be together, talk about R.J. Come right back here and be ready to carry on and do what needs doing.

 

TEAM: Yes, Coach. Yes, sir. Alright, let’s go. Alright, Colby. Let’s do this. Let’s go, move it, Dekker. Yes, sir. (The team runs out of the gymnasium.)

 

(Coach Morse approaches Brennan and Booth who are waiting on the sidelines.)

 

BOOTH: Very impressive, Coach.

 

MORSE: You the FBI?

 

BOOTH: Yes, sir.

 

MORSE: Listen, if you’re going to talk at the boys, I prefer you do it soon. Let us move on from the tragedy, okay?

 

(Booth nods, the coach walks away and Brennan watches him go before turning back to Booth.)

 

BRENNAN: What now?

 

BOOTH: Well, we find out which one of these pretty girls over here is R.J.’s girlfriend.

 

(Cut to: Cheerleaders filing off the bleachers.)

 

(Cut to: Interrogation Room. Booth, Brennan and Dallas Verona sit around a table.)

 

DALLAS VERONA: I went home for the long weekend. R.J. stayed on campus.

 

BRENNAN: Why?

 

DALLAS: Whatever. Team stuff?

 

BOOTH: Did you call R.J.? Talk to him?

 

DALLAS: Yeah, and texted him. But he didn’t answer. That’s not weird or anything. R.J.’s the face-to-face kind, right?

 

BOOTH: Everything okay between you?

 

(Dallas nods, choking up.)

 

BRENNAN: Were you sexually active?

 

DALLAS: He was my boyfriend. He was in great shape, so pretty active, yeah.

 

BRENNAN: Were there any noticeable changes in your sex life? Frequency? Duration?

 

DALLAS: (Shakes her head.) Every day but game day. (Rolls her eyes.) That was R.J.’s motto.

 

BOOTH: No jealous boyfriend from the past, angry dad, nothing?

 

DALLAS: Oh my God. Mr. Francis is right. You people think R.J. was murdered.

 

BRENNAN: Was he under any kind of stress?

 

DALLAS: Of course.

 

BRENNAN: Mid-term exams.

 

(Booth scoffs.)

 

DALLAS: R.J. was a star. They made sure he could pass his mid-terms. R.J. was stressed because he always wanted to win.

 

BOOTH: Stressed enough to hit Mr. Francis.

 

DALLAS: R.J. never told me why he did that. But he felt bad about it.

 

(Booth looks at Brennan)

 

(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab. A glass container of writhing maggots is picked up by a smiling Hodgins who looks to Cam.)

 

HODGINS: We couldn’t find enough tissue for a tox screen because these little scamps ate what was left. (Dumps the jar into a blender.)

 

CAM: Yeah, uh. (Points to the blender as Hodgins turns it on and raises her voice over the noise.) Hodgins, is that my own personal blender? From the kitchen?

 

HODGINS: We’ll toss these babies into the gas chromatograph. (Turns off the blender and takes off the lid.)

 

CAM: Did you get it from the kitchen?

 

HODGINS: Yes. Any foreign substances in R.J.’s body should show up in the maggot juice.

 

CAM: Is it labeled “Personal Property of C.S.” on the bottom?

 

(Hodgins lifts the blender from the base and they both look at the bottom. He looks at Cam and nods.)

 

HODGINS: Yes. (Cam nods.) Don’t worry, I’ll rinse it out. (Flips the switch and turns the blender back on. Cam looks sick.)

 

(Cut to: ASU gymnasium, Booth and Brennan playing basketball.)

 

BOOTH: I can give you a few pointers, Bones. Colby doesn’t get out of class for a few minutes. You’ve gotta sort of flip your wrist you see, like this? (Demonstrates the proper way to shoot a basketball. He makes it and goes after it.)

 

BRENNAN: Sports should not have such a priority in the University.

 

BOOTH: Alright, you know what? That’s crazy.

 

BRENNAN: No, anthropologically speaking, sports are a way for boys to practice their battle skills.

 

BOOTH: Yeah, okay, so you want to just focus straight up, get up on your toes and just sluff… (Shoots and makes the basket.)

 

BRENNAN: The truth is athletes are basically emotionally arrested in boyhood, acting out childish games as if they have adult importance. The only thing more juvenile are grown adults who watch sports.

 

BOOTH: Why do you gotta say stuff like that?

 

BRENNAN: What? You mean the truth?

 

BOOTH: (He rounds on Brennan.) Alright. You know what? I’m a jock. So when you say those, you know, things that you say, what are you saying about me?

 

BRENNAN: Nothing. You grew out of it.

 

BOOTH: No, I didn’t, alright? My shoulder crapped out on me. Otherwise, I would have gone all the way with it. (Sets the basketball down at Brennan’s feet and feigns shooting a basket before walking away.)

 

BRENNAN: What?!

 

BOOTH: You know what, and another thing, alright? I, uh, I fought in a war! So, sports is a, uh, childish substitute? I can live with that. (Walks out the doors of the gymnasium, clearly bothered.)

 

(Brennan turns toward the basket, sighs and then picks up the ball. She looks at it and then shoots, making it. She grins, looks back at the doors and then back at the basket.)

 

(Cut to: Booth waiting outside for Brennan who walks through the doors shortly. They go after Colby Page.)

 

BOOTH: Ahhh. Yo! Colby!

 

BRENNAN: Yo? (Catches up to Booth.)

 

BOOTH: Yeah, yo. You know, I’m a little irritated with you. Just leave me alone long enough so I…

 

BRENNAN: What?

 

BOOTH: …can get over it?

 

BRENNAN: Why are you irritated?

 

BOOTH: Why? Because I love sports. I watch sports. You know, I’m all about sports. You know? (Flashes his badge as he walks up to Colby Page and Celeste Cutler.) Agent Seeley Booth, this here’s Dr. Brennan.

 

COLBY: Yeah, Mr. Francis said you wanna talk to me?

 

BOOTH: George Francis. Really looks out for you guys, huh?

 

BRENNAN: You must be happy to be a stringer again?

 

BOOTH: Starter, Bones.

 

BRENNAN: Starter.

 

COLBY: Like Coach said, I’m happy to be starting, but not happy about how it happened.

 

CELESTE: Colby didn’t ask for this.

 

COLBY: It’s okay, Celeste.

 

CELESTE: Colby’s a team player, he’s stepping up.

 

COLBY: This is my fiancé, Celeste Cutler.

 

BRENNAN: They’re engaged? They’re awfully young.

 

BOOTH: Cutler. As in “Cutter” Cutler?

 

CELESTE: Yeah, he’s my father.

 

BOOTH: Look, your… your father’s in law enforcement, you understand I have to ask these questions.

 

BRENNAN: Plus, your boyfriend is one of the few people who benefitted directly from R.J. Manning’s death.

 

CELESTE: (To Brennan.) I don’t like you. (To Colby.) I hate her.

 

COLBY: I can handle this. Just go on, Celeste, okay?

 

(Celeste exits.)

 

COLBY: I’m sorry about Celeste, she’s just really, really loyal. (Sits down.) 

 

BOOTH: Listen, I have to ask you, um, where were you over the long weekend?

 

COLBY: I was home. Look, I had to disagree with Coach, but I didn’t really benefit from R.J.’s death.

 

BRENNAN: It sure seems like you did.

 

BOOTH: Starting power forward. That’s pretty big around here.

 

COLBY: I’m not gonna replace R.J. just because I take over his position. A’ight, every game, people are gonna say, “Good game, Son.” But in their head, they’re thinkin’ He’s no R.J. Manning. Now does that sound to you like something that I would kill to achieve? Look, I was happy where I was. I’m a team player. Not a star.

 

BOOTH: Now look, you said you were at home. Can, uh, anyone verify that? Your parents?

 

COLBY: I’m not gonna answer anymore questions until I talk to Mr. Francis. (Stands.) I’m sorry.

 

(Colby exits.)

 

BOOTH: Mm. Francis again. (Sighs.)

 

 

 

ACT TWO

 

(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab- Angela’s Office. Cam walks in to find Angela at her computer.)

 

CAM: Hodgins here?

 

ANGELA: Nope.

 

CAM: Do you know where he is?

 

ANGELA: Nope.

 

(Cam exits, then returns shortly.)

 

CAM: Can I leave a message for him with you?

 

ANGELA: (Sighs.) Why me?

 

CAM: Are you serious?

 

ANGELA: Fine. (Hits a button on the computer and turns toward her desk.)

 

CAM: I mean, you live together, right?

 

ANGELA: No. I mean, not officially. We have our own places.

 

CAM: But you spend all your time together.

 

ANGELA: What’s the message?

 

CAM: Tox results for R.J. Manning. Negative for alcohol and sedatives.

 

ANGELA: He reeked of bourbon. 

 

CAM: Somebody emptied a bottle on him. More interestingly, he was on steroids. (Angela sits at her desk.) I still haven’t found an explanation for the extra synovial fluid in the joints. (Cam turns to go.)

 

ANGELA: I’m not sure I can remember all this.

 

CAM: (Ticks off a list on her fingers.) Steroids, bourbon, synovial fluid. What’s the problem?

 

ANGELA: I draw stuff, okay? Fluids are not my actual area of expertise.

 

CAM: It’s Hodgins actual area of expertise and Hodgins is your area of expertise. So by my calculations, all the areas of expertise are overlapping perfectly.

 

ANGELA: It’s not a problem. I’ll give it to him.

 

CAM: Thank you.

 

(Cam exits and Angela looks disturbed.)

 

(Cut to: Coach Morse’s office. Booth and Morse are talking at the window while they watch a practice going on below.)

 

BOOTH: You know, I read your contract, Coach. You get a million dollar conduct bonus for keeping the kids here in line.

 

MORSE: I oversee thirty healthy, rambunctious, Type-A boys. I earn every penny of it.

 

BOOTH: Guess you’d kiss that, uh, million dollars goodbye if R.J. Manning tested positive for steroids.

 

MORSE: R.J.? (Booth nods.) No way.

 

BOOTH: Tox screen came back positive.

 

MORSE: No, doesn’t make sense.

 

BOOTH: The better he plays, he’s worth more to the pros. Better chance you have to, uh, move up to the NBA.

 

MORSE: (Sighs and pulls his ear forward to show Booth a scar behind it.) Do you see this? See this scar? Brain cancer from steroids. When it comes to my team, I have zero tolerance and they know it.

 

BOOTH: What do you do if you catch them?

 

MORSE: I sure as hell don’t kill ‘em.

 

BOOTH: Million dollar bonus, free ride to the NBA.

 

MORSE: Listen, I’ll tell you what, you call my doctor. I’m terminal. I got two years tops. The money, the career, not big incentives. (Booth nods.) I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anybody about my condition. I don’t want sympathy. I just want my boys to win this season.

 

BOOTH: You understand I gotta pursue this steroid thing.

 

MORSE: You don’t even need a warrant. Any boy that does not submit a urine sample is off this team.

 

(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab- platform. Image of urine samples, the sound of a keycard swiping at the platform. Cam and Brennan enter.)

 

BRENNAN: Not one sample shows steroid use?

 

CAM: Not one. Coach’s confidence in his boys was justified. At least as far as steroids.

 

BRENNAN: Something else showed up?

 

CAM: Two of the samples came back positive for Cephixime.

 

BRENNAN: The antibiotic?

 

CAM: Most commonly used to treat gonorrhea.

 

BRENNAN: Gonorrhea would explain the extra synovial fluid in R.J.’s joints. So, R.J. plus two members of the team had gonorrhea.

 

CAM: Nope, two of the urine samples came back with not only identical levels of antibiotic, but the exact same specific gravity.

 

BRENNAN: Two samples from the same player.

 

CAM: Yes. My guess is that someone with gonorrhea is trying to protect someone using steroids. (Brennan shakes her head with a smirk.) Nice bunch of boys.

 

(Cut to: Interrogation Room. Booth is interrogating two players, Ed Dekker and Jimmy Fields.)

 

BOOTH: One of you is taking steroids and the other one is being treated for the clap.

 

JIMMY: Somebody tested positive for steroids?

 

BOOTH: Ah. Thank you for your candor, Jimmy, thank you.

 

JIMMY: I didn’t admit anything, I asked a question.

 

BOOTH: That’s great. The guy on steroids would be worried about steroids, the guy with the clap, that would be you Eddie, I wouldn’t worry.

 

ED: Well, why worry? It’s just a shot in the ass.

 

JIMMY: He was guessing until you admitted that, douche bag.

 

BOOTH: Thank you, Ed, I appreciate it. You can leave now.

 

JIMMY: Why can he leave?

 

BOOTH: I really don’t care about where he’s been dipping his, you know, wick. Alright? I care about illegal steroids. Get lost, Ed. Leave.

 

(A confused Ed exits.)

 

JIMMY: What’s steroids go to do with what happened to R.J.?

 

BOOTH: Oh, I don’t know. Maybe R.J. is just worried about the, uh, the side effects. You know, all the, uh, the yelling and screaming. You know, the zits on his pretty face, his…manhood shrinking. So maybe he just gets nervous and he wants to confess to Coach Morse.

 

JIMMY: What, so I kill him? (Booth shrugs.) That’s crazy! R.J. made me look good enough to go to Europe leagues. Maybe even the NBA. You can’t even prove I’m on steroids.

 

BOOTH: Nah, nah, see. I execute this warrant to check you for steroids, uh, it’s a paper trail and it becomes public knowledge my friend. (Pushes a paper across the table toward Jimmy.)

 

JIMMY: I’ll lose my eligibility.

 

BOOTH: Bingo. So you tell me who provided you with the steroids and this stays between you and me. Or, uh… (Takes a sample cup from his pocket and sets it on the table, tapping it.) … you gotta pee in a cup.

 

JIMMY: C’mon, man.

 

BOOTH: Oh, and this time I’m going to have to watch you pee in a cup. I hope you don’t have a bashful bladder.

 

(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab- Cam’s office. Cam is sitting at her computer when Angela walks in.)

 

ANGELA: Dr. Saroyan?

 

CAM: Yes, Angela?

 

ANGELA: I’ve been thinking about it. And I don’t think it was professional of you to leave this file with me.

 

CAM: Really? Why is that?

 

ANGELA: I’m not Hodgins’ assistant.

 

CAM: But you are his girlfriend.

 

ANGELA: The problem is that being his girlfriend is a personal, private thing. And this is work.

 

CAM: Ah.

 

ANGELA: And I don’t think it’s good to mix the personal and work. Hodgins and I are completely separate human beings with completely separate careers.

 

CAM: (Puts a disc in her computer.) In your opinion, I crossed a line.

 

ANGELA: Yeah, it’s my opinion.

 

CAM: I apologize, Angela.

 

ANGELA: Thank you. (Turns to leave.)

 

CAM: (Hits a key on her keyboard.) But you might be able to understand why I was a little confused, because apparently you’re not always against bringing your personal life to work. (Sounds of love making fill the room.)

 

ANGELA: (With a shocked expression, approaches the desk and stares at the computer screen, slack jawed.) Oh my God.

 

CAM: Cause what you’re doing there is extremely personal.

 

ANGELA: Yeah…extremely…personal.

 

CAM: I’m seeing parts of you and Hodgins I’d rather leave to the imagination.

 

ANGELA: When did they put security cameras in the storage area? (Cam shrugs.) Who else has seen this?

 

CAM: So far, just me and a very appreciative security guard.

 

ANGELA: Oh my God. Well, you’ve made your point.

 

CAM: (Takes the disc from the computer and hands it to Angela.) Good. That’s the only copy.

 

ANGELA: Do we get any points for this occurring during lunch hour? Which is, as you know, personal time.

 

CAM: Mm, no.

 

ANGELA: Fair enough. I had to ask.

 

(Both smile and Angela exits.)

 

(Cut to: ASU- School hallway. Booth and Brennan walk down a hall and run into George Francis and Colby Page.)

 

FRANCIS: Trust me, I know what I’m talking about. No, I know what I’m talking about. You gotta know, you gotta…

 

BOOTH: Yeah, George Francis, you’re under arrest. (Booth grabs him and slams him against the wall.)

 

FRANCIS: Ow!

 

BRENNAN: Whoa!

 

BOOTH: For providing restricted substances.

 

BRENNAN: Y-you said you were just going to talk.

 

BOOTH: Yeah, and then I saw his face and I got mad, okay? You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. (Handcuffs Francis.) So this is a pretty good time to probably tell us that you killed R.J. Manning, save us all a whole hell of a lot of time.

 

FRANCIS: Why would I kill R.J.? Why would I kill the golden goose?

 

BRENNAN: He wasn’t a goose. He was a man.

 

BOOTH: He give you steroids too, Colby?

 

COLBY: No, he was just trying to get me into free student housing.

 

FRANCIS: Colby, tell Cutler okay? Just tell him what’s going on.

 

(Booth, Brennan and Francis exit, leaving Colby standing in the hall.)

 

 

 

ACT THREE

 

(Cut to: Interrogation Room. Booth and Francis are inside the room, Brennan and Cutler are standing on the other side of the two-way mirror in the observation room.)

 

CUTLER: He was with Colby?

 

BRENNAN: Uh-huh.

 

CUTLER: Colby’s like a son to me. Well, he’s about to become my son-in-law.

 

BRENNAN: You don’t care that Colby’s not a star like R.J.?

 

CUTLER: As a man, sure, I’d rather be R.J. Manning. But as a father, Colby will make a much better husband to my daughter.

 

BRENNAN: Was it worth it? You walk like a man decades older than you are, you never got to play in the pros.

 

(Cut to: Booth standing in the doorway of the room where Brennan and Cutler are talking.)

 

BOOTH: Wife left you because you didn’t turn out to be the star she married?

 

CUTLER: Hey, it’s not like I was a lot of fun to be around when the cheering stopped. You two don’t pull any punches, do you?

 

BOOTH: Mmuh. I’ll tell you what else I know, you’d do it all over again, Bud.

 

BRENNAN: That doesn’t make any sense. (Booth scoffs and looks at Cutler.) Jocks. You understand each other, but your priorities are completely skewed.

 

BOOTH: Ignore Dr. Brennan, okay? She’s unreasonable on the subject. (Points through the glass at Francis.) He wouldn’t admit to the steroid thing.

 

CUTLER: Plan B?

 

BOOTH: Plan B.

 

BRENNAN: What’s plan B?

 

BOOTH: Convince him that if he doesn’t admit the steroid thing, then he’s confessing to murder. (Booth and Cutler exit the room.) We, uh jocks, we’ll take care of this one.

 

(Brennan is left standing in the room alone, confused.)

 

(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab- platform. Cam is looking into a microscope, Hodgins is standing behind her.)

 

CAM: I’m looking at a cockroach’s leg?

 

HODGINS: Technical term is tarsus. 

 

CAM: (Looks at a magnification on a computer screen.) Are they usually blue like that?

 

HODGINS: No, he stepped in an amalgam of fats, waxes, oil and calcium dye. (Cam stares at him. He clarifies.) Lipstick.

 

CAM: (Nods.) R.J. Manning wore blue… (Hodgins steps in front of her and crosses his arms.) …lipstick?

 

HODGINS: The lipstick wasn’t found on his…lips. You know what I mean?

 

CAM: Yes, thank you.

 

HODGINS: You sure?

 

CAM: Yes, Dr. Hodgins. (Hodgins nods.)

 

(Cut to: Angela’s Office. She is looking around surreptitiously before putting a disc into her computer. Smiling she becomes engrossed with what is on the screen as the sounds of love making fill the air. Cam pokes her head in and then steps into the office.)

 

CAM: Angela?

 

ANGELA: Yeah? (Cam gives her an uncomfortable smile.) You know, this is pretty good. I mean, usually with these things you think, God… more yoga, less carbs, you know, but this ain’t bad.

 

CAM: You might wanna…turn the volume down.

 

ANGELA: (Waves distractedly as Cam makes her exit.) Yeah, yeah. Thanks.

 

(Cut to: Interrogation Room. Booth is standing against the wall while Cutler talks to Francis.)

 

FRANCIS: You’re going to believe some kid taking steroids over the best friend this college ever had?

 

CUTLER: Of course.

 

FRANCIS: Why?

 

CUTLER: Because, George, if you and R.J. argued about steroids, say he wanted more and you were saying no. That would explain why he hit you.

 

(Cut to: Brennan standing in the observation room, watching the interrogation.)

 

BOOTH: Yeah, you know… ‘roid rage?

 

FRANCIS: (Scoffs.) I never provided steroids to anybody.

 

BOOTH: Uh-huh, okay. (To Cutler.) You know what I gotta do here, right?

 

CUTLER: Let me reason with him one more time. Here’s what’s gonna happen, George. If you don’t admit to providing the steroids, Agent Booth is going to arrest you. For murder.

 

FRANCIS: (Looks up at Booth.) That’s ridiculous.

 

BOOTH: Really? Cause you’ve got a great motive.

 

FRANCIS: What motive?

 

CUTLER: R.J. Manning admitted to you that he was going to fess up to Coach Morse that he was on ‘roids. You panicked and killed him.

 

FRANCIS: Now who’s going to fall for this?

 

BOOTH: Oh. The grand jury?

 

FRANCIS: R.J. hitting me had nothing to do with steroids.

 

CUTLER: Agent Booth needs more than your assurance on that, George. (Francis looks up to Booth who nods.) Alright, R.J. and I had a deal.

 

(Cut to: Brennan watching from the other side of the glass.)

 

FRANCIS: And he wanted to break that deal.

 

(Cut back to: Interrogation room.)

 

CUTLER: You signed him up, didn’t you? Illegal as hell. (Looks up at Booth.) But George had R.J. sign with him for representation into the NBA. Huh? NBA salary, merchandising rights, signature shoe. And R.J. wanted out, right?

 

FRANCIS: Cars, apartments, proving for his family. I deserve a little return on my investment.

 

CUTLER: Was R.J. the only one that you had a deal with?

 

BOOTH: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. (Grabs Cutler’s arm as he stands up and moves toward Francis.)

 

CUTLER: Huh? Who else? Colby? Huh?

 

FRANCIS: Colby’s a nice kid but he’s never going pro, Cutter. Now, I didn’t kill R.J. Manning. There’s no point to it. I had a legally binding contract with him.

 

CUTLER: (Goes for Francis.) You rat bastard!

 

BOOTH: Whoa.

 

CUTLER: If you don’t arrest him for that ‘roid thing, I will.

 

BOOTH: Okay, okay, I got him, I got him, I will, I will. I got it. (Pushes Cutler out the door, then shuts it and looks at Brennan through the glass. Francis smirks.)

 

(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab- platform. A petri dish is being squirted with some sort of liquid and swirled around. Cam and Angela are standing around a table.)

 

CAM: This is saliva I found in Manning’s shorts. I also found pre-seminal fluid. (Brennan approaches.)

 

BRENNAN: What does that mean?

 

ANGELA: Are you serious?

 

BRENNAN: Well, I know it means he had an erection, but what does the erection mean?

 

CAM: That he was sexually stimulated.

 

BRENNAN: Well, I know that. Healthy post-adolescent males experience eleven to twenty erections every day. Any number of which produce pre-seminal fluid.

 

CAM: Yes, but do those erections produce saliva?

 

BRENNAN: No.

 

ANGELA: Cam’s a doctor, honey. That was an amusing rhetorical question.

 

CAM: (Shows them another petri dish with a loogie in it.) Zack also found this in the victim’s hair.

 

BRENNAN: What, semen?

 

CAM: No, esophageal mucus. Commonly known as a loogie.

 

BRENNAN: Someone spat at the victim?

 

ANGELA: Should I paint you a picture?

 

BRENNAN: (Smiling.) Nooo. Traces of pre-seminal fluid and saliva inside the basketball shorts suggest oral sex during which the victim did not ejaculate.

 

CAM: Well, perhaps he was killed before ejaculation.

 

ANGELA: I don’t want to get graphic or anything, but wouldn’t it be difficult to simultaneously bash someone’s head in while servicing them?

 

CAM: Talk about multi-tasking.

 

BRENNAN: Which means there might have been a witness to this murder.

 

CAM: According to a cockroach I know, she might have been wearing blue lipstick.

 

ANGELA: Hm.

 

(Cut to: Zack’s office. Zack is sitting and Angela stands to one side of him while Cam stands to the other.)

 

ANGELA: We have been assuming that the victim was conked on the head and then dragged under the bleachers and compressed.

 

ZACK: I see.

 

CAM: Two people involved. Victim and murderer.

 

ZACK: I see.

 

ANGELA: But now, we could have a three person situation.

 

ZACK: I see.

 

CAM: Victim, murderer and victim’s special friend.

 

ZACK: And you need what from me?

 

CAM: Any information you might have that could lead us to either the special friend or the murderer.

 

ZACK: You might be interested in these crystalline deposits.

 

ANGELA: (Looking at a magnified picture of the victim’s dismembered wrist.) Ew, what is that?

 

ZACK: Bacteria, crystallized post mortem.

 

CAM: Gonorrhea bacteria? (Zack nods.) And we’re back to R.J.’s special friend. If only we could figure out who she is.

 

ZACK: Mm, you may want to ask Edward Dekker. (Points to a magnified picture of cells on a computer screen.) This is from R.J. Manning. (Hits some keys on the keyboard and another image is shown side by side with the original picture, it looks exactly the same.) And this is from Edward Dekker. Same strain.

 

CAM: The members of this team are very close.

 

(Zack looks pleased, and then very confused.)

 

(Cut to: ASU Men’s Locker Room. Brennan and Booth walk quickly down an aisle looking for Edward Dekker )

 

BOOTH: Wait outside, Bones, c’mon. 

 

BRENNAN: Are you still angry at me for saying that athletes are emotionally stunted?

 

STUDENT: Hey baby, I know you want some…

 

BOOTH: Of course not. (They find Eddie in the shower.) Hey. Hey, hey Ed. Can I talk to you, Ed, for a second?

 

DEKKER: (Turns off the shower.) All I did was pee in a cup for Jimmy Fields. All of a sudden this is a federal case?

 

BOOTH: Turns out he has the clap.

 

BRENNAN: The exact same strain as you.

 

DEKKER: Wait, you think I had sex with R.J.?

 

BOOTH: (He and Brennan look at each other.) I dunno, did you?

 

DEKKER: No!

 

BRENNAN: Then why’d you bring it up?

 

DEKKER: You brought it up. All I did was pee in a cup.

 

BRENNAN: Why?

 

DEKKER: Because, Jimmy’s a teammate and he asked me to. I would have done it for any of my bros.

 

BRENNAN: (Speaking to Booth.) How’d this boy get into college?

 

BOOTH: Basketball.

 

DEKKER: Hey look, you know, I don’t think I can be discussing sexually topics with her looking at me.

 

BRENNAN: Why?

 

DEKKER: Cause, you’re hot. And I’m naked.

 

BOOTH: (Laughs.) Look, maybe you should just go stand over there.

 

BRENNAN: What, because he’s…shy?

 

DEKKER: Look, maybe you didn’t notice, but, uh, I got no reason to be shy.

 

BOOTH: Obviously he can’t concentrate, so either cover your eyes or stand over there. (Brennan covers her eyes reluctantly. Booth points to her.)

 

BRENNAN: (She gives up and walks to where Dekker can’t see her.) I’ll just, uh, I’ll be…right here.

 

DEKKER: Man, she’s smokin’. (Grabs a towel and turns to walk away.)

 

(Cut to: Row of lockers.)

 

BOOTH: (Follows Dekker to his locker.) Alright, now listen, Ed, I need to know if you and R.J. had sex with the same girl.

 

DEKKER: Definitely.

 

BOOTH: Okay, who?

 

DEKKER: (Shrugs.) I dunno.

 

BOOTH: You don’t know?

 

DEKKER: Well, look there are girls who like to have sex with basketball players. B-Bunnies.

 

BOOTH: B-Bunnies. Right, yeah.

 

DEKKER: Yeah, look I’m not saying me and R.J. ever crossed swords or anything, but um, we were definitely taking shots at the same hoops.

 

BOOTH: Right, um. You wear condoms.

 

DEKKER: Always, yeah.

 

BOOTH: You got the clap.

 

DEKKER: (Looks dejected.) Right.

 

BOOTH: So, who didn’t you wear a condom with? (Dekker sighs.) Right, boy, now you’re using your whole brain. Come on.

 

DEKKER: Alright, look I got a name in my head, okay, but there’s no way R.J. Manning ever tapped that.

 

BOOTH: The name, Ed, I need the name.

 

DEKKER: (Leans in and whispers.) My Poli-Sci tutor, Justine. Hot not. (Booth writes the name down.)

 

BRENNAN: (Peeks over the lockers.) All the bad decisions you made and the one thing you’re ashamed of is having sex with a not hot girl?

 

BOOTH: (Looking bewildered.) What are you doing?

 

BRENNAN: What?

 

(Cut to: ASU- patio with covered tables and chairs. Brennan and Booth are sitting at a table with Justine Berry.)

 

JUSTINE: I know I have gonorrhea. I’m being treated for it.

 

BOOTH: Yeah, well, where’d you get it?

 

JUSTINE: They asked me the same thing in Health Services. Could have been a couple places.

 

BRENNAN: Well, you’re a smart girl, why didn’t you wear a condom?

 

JUSTINE: I do. Most of the time.

 

BRENNAN: (Looking to Booth.) You know what? I made a mistake. She is not a smart girl. This is a terrible University.

 

BOOTH: (To Justine.) Do you ever wear bright blue lipstick?

 

JUSTINE: Why is there some kind of link between the clap and blue lipstick?

 

BOOTH: Let’s discuss Ed Dekker.

 

JUSTINE: Okay, yes, I gave gonorrhea to Dekker. Are you going to arrest me?

 

BRENNAN: We know that R.J. Manning had the exact same strain.

 

BOOTH: Did you give it to him, too, or… I mean, do you have some sort of hate on for the entire basketball team?

 

JUSTINE: (Beginning to cry.) R.J. gave it to me. And then he wouldn’t even talk to me. So I gave it to Ed Dekker for revenge. Poetic you know? Let R.J. know I was still alive. (Sniffs.) Those guys all talk, compare their conquests.

 

BOOTH: You have a key to the bleachers.

 

JUSTINE: (Looking shocked and angry.) I didn’t kill R.J.! I’m not that nuts!

 

BRENNAN: We need a sample of your DNA.

 

JUSTINE: Why?

 

BOOTH: Because just before he was killed, R.J. was having sex with someone who may have seen his murderer.

 

JUSTINE: (Nods, wipes her face with a napkin and rips out some of her hair, throwing them at Brennan and Booth.) You’ve got my snot, my tears, and my hair. Knock yourself out. (Gets up and stalks away.)

 

BRENNAN: I don’t understand.

 

BOOTH: R.J. Manning broke her heart and a bit of her brain in the process.

 

 

 

ACT FOUR

 

(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab. Cam walks out of an office talking to Angela, they proceed to walk down a hall.)

 

CAM: Justine Berry’s not the one who left her saliva or her lipstick on the victim’s privates.

 

ANGELA: (Handing over a tube of lipstick.) Okay, I’ll help. But I do not want to be known as the make-up expert around here.

 

CAM: You found blue lipstick.

 

ANGELA: Mmhmm.

 

CAM: Shock Rah by Zensual

 

ANGELA: Zen plus sensual. Chakra. Shock Rah. Rah as in Rah-Rah, as in Rah-Rah-Sis-Boom-Bah.

 

CAM: Okay, you started off in English, but I have no idea where you ended up.

 

ANGELA: This is a promotional line, marketed specifically to high school and college cheering squads. Tailored to their team colors.

 

CAM: Ah, Atlantic State Jaguars.

 

ANGELA: R.J. Manning was under those bleachers getting’ lipsticked by a cheerleader.

 

(Cut to: ASU gymnasium. Cheerleaders practicing a routine. All of them wearing blue lipstick. Cutler walks in with a warrant and they all look nervous.)

 

(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab. Cheerleaders’ mouths being swabbed for DNA. Booth taps the last girl in line, Dallas Verona, on the shoulder. She turns around.)

 

BOOTH: Do you know why we’re doing this?

 

DALLAS: I can guess.

 

BRENNAN: We found evidence that one of the cheerleaders might have been with R.J. before he died. Sexually.

 

DALLAS: I know what “been with” means.

 

BOOTH: You know the DNA will, uh, tell us if it was you.

 

DALLAS: It wasn’t.

 

BRENNAN: (To Booth.) Why isn’t she upset?

 

DALLAS: Oh, please. Oh, I get it. You think because R.J. compulsively played around, I might have lured him to his death or something?

 

BRENNAN: Wow, she’s smart.

 

BOOTH: Mmm. Well, do you want to pick out anyone in particular here?

 

DALLAS: (Scoffs.) Did you see, R.J.? Before he was dead, I mean? He was a very good looking guy. You factor in his sex drive and how he played…half these girls have done him. Hell, he even did the towel girl.

 

BOOTH: Great, do you know about Justine Berry?

 

DALLAS: R.J. liked girls. All kinds of girls. I’m just one kind.

 

BRENNAN: Hm, which kind is that?

 

DALLAS: The permanent kind.

 

BRENNAN: You planned to live like that?

 

DALLAS: R.J. came home to me. That’s the way it would have stayed. From his crappy student apartment to the giant mansion he would have gotten. (Begins to tear up and turns away.)

 

BRENNAN: Is she crying because she loved him or because she lost a mansion?

 

BOOTH: (Mouths.) The mansion.

 

(Cut to: Exam room. Zack is reconstructing the skull while Brennan watches and speaks to him.)

 

BRENNAN: She made the decision to hang onto him by letting him have sex with any other woman he wanted.

 

ZACK: That sounds extremely rational.

 

BRENNAN: That’s what’s confusing. (Zack finishes the skull and holds it up.) Well done. (She takes the skull from him.)

 

ZACK: The idea that one person can be all things to another person, satisfy every need, or even more than one is sentimental and mockish.

 

BRENNAN: (Examining the skull with an ultraviolet light.) There are indentations here.

 

ZACK: (Moves a magnifying lens over the skull, it appears magnified on a computer screen.) Alpha-numeric. Z and S?

 

BRENNAN: It’s an imprint. It’s backwards.

 

ZACK: (Zack types some strokes and the image reverses.) The numerals 2 and 5?

 

BRENNAN: Twenty-five. Twenty-five pounds. An imprint from free weights.

 

(Cut to: ASU Fitness Room- An FBI forensic tech is inspecting the free weights with an ALS light, while Brennan looks on. Booth is talking to Cutler.)

 

BOOTH: Our unknown female either meets or lures R.J. under the bleachers.

 

CULTER: Lures?

 

BRENNAN: We’re pretty sure the girl didn’t actually kill R.J. but that doesn’t mean that she wasn’t bait.

 

FORENSIC TECH: I got somethin’. Blood spatter. It was wiped, but it’s definite.

 

BRENNAN: Looks like we have our murder weapon.

 

(Cut to: Medico-Legal Lab. Cam exiting the platform, walking toward Booth and Brennan.)

 

CAM: DNA evidence is in. The blood on the weight, is definitely R.J.’s. (All three begin walking down the hall toward Cam’s office.)

 

BRENNAN: What about the saliva and the sputum?

 

CAM: (To Booth.) The loogie.

 

BOOTH: I know about loogies.

 

CAM: Two things about the saliva. One, is that it did not come from the same person who provided the loogie.

 

BOOTH: Oh, wait. So the person who serviced R.J. is not the same person who spat on him.

 

CAM: (They enter Cam’s office and she begins to bring something up on her computer.) Two, we got a partial match on the saliva from one of the cheerleaders.

 

(Cut to: Cam’s computer screen and a picture of Celeste Cutler.)

 

BOOTH: Celeste Cutler.

 

(Cut to: Interrogation Room. Celeste Cutler and Colby Page, who are holding hands, sit across from Brennan and Booth.)

 

CELESTE: You think Colby and I plotted to kill R.J. Manning?

 

BOOTH: Celeste, you lured R.J. Manning under the bleachers and kept him busy.

 

(Brennan is taking a DNA sample from Colby Page.)

 

COLBY: Kept him busy how?

 

BRENNAN: Well, evidence shows she was performing oral sex on him.

 

BOOTH: Which gave you time to bash his head in. (Colby looks at Celeste, hurt, and lets go of her hand.)

 

BRENNAN: But you made one mistake.

 

BOOTH: One.

 

COLBY: Look, I haven’t done anything.

 

BRENNAN: We will match this DNA to the sputum found at the scene.

 

COLBY: What?

 

BOOTH: You hocked a loogie on him, kid. You killed him, and you spat on his face.

 

COLBY: Look, God as my witness, that never happened.

 

(There’s a knock on the door and Cam enters.)

 

CAM: Sorry to interrupt, but you really need to see this.

 

BRENNAN: (Stands and goes to the doorway where Cam hands her a file.) Complete profile?

 

CAM: All thirteen STRs.

 

BRENNAN: Thanks.

 

(Cam exits.)

 

BRENNAN: (To Booth.) We got a hit on CODIS from the DNA on the um, hocked loogie.

 

(Booth takes the file and looks at it while Celeste and Colby look at each other.)

 

(Cut to: ASU gymnasium. Cutler is sitting on the bleachers when Booth and Brennan enter.)

 

BOOTH: (To Brennan.) Just a moment. (To Cutler, from across the floor.) Hey, Chief.

 

CUTLER: If I hadn’t of spat on that son of a bitch, you never would have caught me, right?

 

BRENNAN: Well, Celeste might have told us.

 

CUTLER: She doesn’t know. I came in and saw my little girl, saw her with R.J. … (crying) …doing what she was doing. She heard me and took off. None of the girls could resist R.J. Kid had it all. Magic boy. You know what else he had? The clap. And he knew that when he took my daughter underneath the blea- (breaks down crying and pulls a gun from a gym bag in front of him.)

 

BOOTH: No. (Pulls his own gun.) He’s got a gun, Bones. I need you to leave now.

 

CUTLER: Don’t worry, it’s not you I intend to shoot. (Sighs and puts the gun to his head.)

 

BOOTH: There’s no way Cutter Cutler kills himself. No way Cutter Cutler goes down without a fight.

 

BRENNAN: (In a quiet tone.) What are you doing? Do you want him to shoot at you?

 

BOOTH: Go.

 

(Brennan exits.)

 

CUTLER: I was just like him, you know? Under these same bleachers, in fact. I was as bad as him. You wouldn’t understand. (Lowers the gun, holding it against his chest.)

 

BOOTH: We were all like that.

 

CUTLER: It changes your life view, you see your little girl. It’s a different perspective.

 

BOOTH: People are gonna understand the action that you took, okay? I do. Man, you’re Cutter Cutler. Lowest assist and turnover ratios. Twelve triple doubles in your last season. Nobody could change direction in the open court like you, man, nobody.

 

(Cutler puts the gun to his head.)

 

BOOTH: No, do it now. Change direction again.

 

CUTLER: (Holds the gun to his chest again.) Cutter Cutler died a long time ago. I’m just putting him away.

 

(Booth raises his gun at the same time Cutler puts it to his head again. Brennan is seen at the side of the bleachers reaching her hand up to stop him. He cocks the hammer back and goes to pull the trigger, but the web of Brennan’s hand slips between the hammer and the firing pin, pinching the skin.)

 

BRENNAN: (In pain.) Ahhh. (Takes the gun from Cutler, still painfully pinched on her hand. She removes it, revealing a bleeding wound.) Ow!

 

BOOTH: Alright.

 

(Booth stares, Cutler breaks down and cries and Brennan sucks on her bleeding hand.)

 

(Cut to: Royal Diner. Brennan and Booth sitting at a table by the window.)

 

BOOTH: Your hand hurt?

 

BRENNAN: A little.

 

BOOTH: So, jock mentality…teams…not all bad, huh?

 

BRENNAN: Why are you telling me this?

 

BOOTH: You just said we’re all stunted adolescents who take children’s games too seriously.

 

BRENNAN: I never meant you.

 

BOOTH: Bones….

 

BRENNAN: What?

 

BOOTH: Bones, I’m one of those guys.

 

BRENNAN: No, you aren’t. You don’t play at being a warrior. You are a warrior. Every day. You’re definitely… a fully developed man. (Smiling.)

 

BOOTH: (Smiling.) Okay, okay. You leave the tip.

 

BRENNAN: Even Cutler knew you were lying when you said you treated women like that beneath the bleachers.

 

BOOTH: Oh, and you believe him?

 

BRENNAN: Yes, because you still remember that first girl’s name. (She sucks down the last of her milkshake and Booth takes another drink of his, leaving a milkshake mustache.) Let’s go. (She motions to his lip a few times before he wipes it off.)

 

END.

 

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