Bones: Fire in the Ice Recap
February 18th 2009 03:39
It’s the hockey episode!
Dressed in his “Fed-Cases” hockey gear, Booth glades across the ice. He, Wendell, and the other Fed-Cases face off against the Firedawgs, as Bones, Sweets, and Cam watch from the bleachers.
“Let’s have a nice clean game everyone.” The whisle is blown and the game is on.
“Go Booth!”
Booth slams one of the opposing team’s players against the glass and Cam cheers him on. Bones is confused. “What did he do that for?”
“It’s what Booth does, keeps the other team honest,” Cam explains. “He’s what you call an ‘enforcer’.”
“What, like law enforcement?”
“Yeah okay,” Cam answers, still watching the game. “Let’s go with that.”
They watch as Pete Carlson, a Firedawg, crosschecks one of Booth’s team members. The ref doesn’t call it, making Booth mad. When Carlson makes a goal, Booth knocks him to the ice. “That was a cheap shot Carlson!” Carlson merely shrugs. “It’s hockey.” Booth reminds him that “some of us have to go to work in the morning”.
“Uh-oh…” Cam comments as Booth is put in the penalty box.
Bones still doesn’t quite understand this whole hockey thing. “So this is punitive right? To be sent to this little area right here?”
Booth tosses his hockey stick aside calling out, “Keep your head up next time #12, huh? Keep your head up!”
“Yeah yeah, I’ll be waiting,” Carlson mocks.
“Come on!” Booth glances over and Bones waves. “Hi!” He waves back then grins as Cam and Sweets explain to Bones what that little area “is called the penalty box.” Sweets explains that Booth “committed a penalty when he checked the big guy when he didn’t have the puck.”
The game continues, and another one of Booth’s teammates gets knocked to the ice. “There’s your hit right there ref, that you missed again!” Booth calls out, and Bones notices his frustration. “Booth seems quite anxious to get out of that disciplinary box.”
Sweets agrees. “Yeah, I’ve never seen him this agitated before.”
“Open man! Open man!” Booth calls out, and the other team makes a goal.
“That’s not good, right?” Bones asks, and Sweets confirms that it’s not.
Booth gets out of the penalty box and Bones and sweets cheer him on. “Go Booth!” “Whoohooo!”
The puck is down and Wendell grabs it. He heads down the ice, and Bones excitedly points out, “Oh! Wendell might get a basket!” Cam and Sweets just look at her, confused.
Carlson (#12) slams into Wendell, who goes down on the ice, and Booth shouts, “Elbow! Elbow!” Cam, Sweets, and Bones all cringe.
Bones: Is Wendell okay?
Sweets: That can’t be good.
Cam: It definitely is not.
The ref blows a short whistle, and Wendell tries to get up. Hurt, he falls back to the ice. Angry, Booth approaches Carlson. “C’mon, what are you doin’?” Carlson shoves Booth’s shoulder. “You want to go?” Booth shoves him back, and Carlson throws his stick to the ice. “Let’s go, come on!” That’s it, Booth’s had it.
Carlson starts hitting him and Bones, Cam, and Sweets all stand up to watch as Booth punches back. “You’re a dirty player, Carlson.” Even Carlson’s own players aren’t stepping in to defend him. “Don’t take shots at my guy!” Booth warns as Carlson continues to struggle. “It ends here, hey Carlson?” Booth hits him hard. Cam and Bones cringe, but Sweets urges Booth on with a fierce growl.
They watch Carlson fall to his knees, and Bones says, “Booth seems to be winning.”
“It’s not Booth I’m worried about,” Cam answers, watching as Booth continues to pummel the guy, winning the fight easily. The ref intervenes, and Booth tells Carlson to “get up off that ice and we’ll finish this in the parking lot.” Carlson doesn’t get up.
“If you did your job,” Booth tells the ref, “I wouldn’t have to do it for you.” The ref warns him to go on, and Booth argues, “Look at him, he’s hittin’ my guys!”
Everyone claps as Booth skates over to help Wendell up. “Did I score one, man?” Wendell asks dazedly. “Oh yeah,” Booth answers, favoring his right hand as he helps Wendell off the ice.
“I do not know how I feel about this,” Bones says as she watches them go.
“It’s very primal,” Sweets answers, and Cam adds an enthusiastic, “I like it. Just a little too much.” They both look at her as she realizes what she’s just said.
~*~*~
Back in the locker room, Wendell holds a bag of ice up to his head, Booth one on his hand as they try to undress.
“You still seein’ double?” Booth asks.
“Only when I open more than one eye,” Wendell answers with a dry laugh. “Your hand’s busted.”
“Yeah well, you know, the guy left his helmet on.”
Wendell laughs and Booth pulls some more of his gear with his good hand. Suddenly the locker room door opens and Bones appears without warning. “Hey, are you two alright?”
They just stare at her as some of the other guy’s comment, “Wow!”
“What?” she asks.
“You want to wait outside?” Booth asks, and she still doesn’t get it.
“I thought your hand might be broken. Want me to have a look at it?”
“No, it’s alright, you can wait outside,” Booth answers politely, adding, “Men’s locker room, Bones.”
Okay, she was just checking. Bones leaves and Wendell and Booth just shake their heads.
~*~*~
In an ice fishing cabin on the lake, and man tells his son, “There comes a time in ice fishing when it’s time for the father to turn the drilling over to his son.” He gets up to get it ready and his son decides, “Man this is a great day!” His father’s letting him drink beer and now run the drill. What more could he ask for? He grins and gets ready to learn the ropes.
“You’re 18 Leo,” his father tells him as his son joins him by the drill. “You start drillin’ holes, it’s safety first. You got me?”
“Yeah,” Leo answers quickly, excited to get started.
He puts his hands on the drill, but his father stops, making sure to point out that nothing he’s saying here implies only to ice fishing…he shoots his son a look. “You get me?”
His son stares at him a second then, “Oh, alright.”
“Good. You know, that way you don’t fall through the ice. And die. Or get a disease, get pregnant—”
“Dad, come on.”
Okay then, drilling it is. Father hands the ice drill over to son, and Leo starts to drill. Everything goes well for the first few seconds, then suddenly “she’s bleedin’, Dad! She’s bleeding!” And he’s right. Blood seeps up through the pure white snow and ice and his father grabs the augur. “Pull out! Pull out!”
They shut off the drill and Leo stares at the bloody hole. “Oh I hope that’s a fish…”
His father leans down to wipe off the snow, revealing a frozen human face.
Leo’s eyes widen and his father tells him to go wait in the truck.
~*~*~
At the crime scene, Booth blows some warmth onto the fingers poking out of the cast on his right arm, and asks, “So what do you think there Bones?”
She looks down at the body as agents pull it from the ice and set it in front of her. “I would surmise that the body went into the lake before it froze, then the lake froze, then the body floated up and became attached to the bottom of the ice.”
“I meant was he murdered.”
“Oh.” Bones glances down at the frozen body as someone takes a crime scene photo of it. “Maybe. Could have been an accident or a suicide. Except—” She gets distracted by Booth trying to itch inside his cast. “You shouldn’t do that.”
“it itches, okay?” He answers, then asks, “Yeah, well, except for what?”
Bones sticks her gloved finger into the skull’s left eye socket, stating that the “trauma to the left maxillary orbit suggest violence.” Again, she’s distracted by his cast itching. “It’s kind of gross what you’re doing.”
“Gross? You got your finger into some guy’s left maxillary orbit.”
Bones can’t see anything else that they can learn from the body here, so she decides they need to “get this popsicle back to the lab!”
“Hey look at that,” Booth answers. “Bones made a joke.”
“I can be quite amusing.”
Booth suddenly spots the necklace the victim is wearing. “Wait a second…” He reaches forward and pulls it up to have a closer look.
“Booth, you’re not wearing any gloves,” Bones chastises, and Booth stares at the necklace.
“Bones, you know that guy I punched out last month during my hockey game? Pete Carlson?”
“Yes, when you broke your hand.”
Booth stares from the body to the necklace to his partner, and tells her, “That’s him…I’m a suspect. Here—” he hands her the necklace and leaves.
~*~*~
At the FBI, Booth continues to scratch at his colorfully signed cast as Caroline announces, that given that Booth is the prime suspect in this murder—Here Bones interrupts, “We don’t know it’s murder,” and Booth quips, “Hey look at that, I’m a prime suspect.”—“Agent Payton Perotta here will be working with Dr. Brennan.
Bones glances at the blond woman sitting opposite here, and merely answers, “I won’t work the case without Booth.”
“In that case, I invite Agent Booth’s participation,” Agent Perotta answers easily. “In the background. As an advisor.” Both smirks.
Caroline tells them that Agent Perotta has a bachelor’s degree in both forensic science and criminology, and Bones points out that “Anything short of a doctorate is virtually useless at my level.”
“How would you like to proceed, darling?” Caroline asks, and it’s Booth who answers, “Well it’s pretty obvious you’d want to interrogate the prime suspect, right?” He smiles at Agent Perotta and continues to scratch the inside of his cast with his pocketknife.
Agent Perotta smiles back. “Yeah.”
Booth grins and Bones just rolls her eyes.
~*~*~
Back at the lab, Cam puts time of death about five days before freezing based on the body’s decomposition. Wendell says that the local cops say the lake froze over three weeks ago, and Hodgins announces that whatever evidence they’re going to get from the lake is going to have to be viewed through the microscope.
“If Booth is a suspect, then I should be too,” Wendell suddenly announces, glancing down at the body. “This guy scrambled my brains.”
“Your alibi is that you were seeing double and being taken care of by your mother,” Cam answers, exchanging an amused look with Hodgins.
Hodgins tells her he’ll get on the samples she took from the lungs and esophagus to see if the victim was drowned somewhere else and then dumped in the lake. Examining the body, Cam casually answers, “No, drowning is not the way Booth would kill someone.” At Wendell and Hodgin’s looks, she quickly adds, “Not that I actually suspect Booth. At all.”
They continue to look at her silently.
“Quit staring at me.”
They look at each other instead, and Hodgins can’t help but smile.
~*~*~
In the FBI interrogation room, Agent Perotta sits across the table from Booth, who tells her that, “in the course of the game, the victim and I exchanged blows.”
“Who initiated the fight?”
“It was hockey.”
“So spontaneous combustion?”
“The guy hit two of my players and the ref didn’t catch that,” Booth explains.
“And that made you angry…”
“Not angry enough to, you know, chase him down after the game and kill him.”
Agent Perotta asks him where he went after the game, and Booth tells her that “Bones drove me and Wendell to the hospital.”
“So no alibi that night or the next.”
“Bones and I are just partners,” Booth answers, catching Agent Perotta’s attention. She looks up and he smiles at her.
“Okay,” she answers with a smile. “Now you’re answering questions I had no intention of asking.”
Booth continues to look amused, and she asks if it was his intention to keep the argument constrained to the ice. When Booth answers that it was, she tells him that she has a witness that tells her that he heard Booth tell the victim “quote “you get up off of that ice and we’ll settle this out in the parking lot”.”
“Trash talking,” Booth answers as if that explains it all.
“Let me cut to the chase here,” Agent Perotta says, leaning forward to ask, “Did you kill Pete Carlson?”
“No.”
“Did you dump his body in the lake?”
“No, I did not Agent Perotta,” Booth answers, leaning forward and still smiling.
Agent Perotta pauses a moment, then suddenly asks, "Do you feel that you're experience as the child of an abusive alcoholic has made you more prone to violence?"
Booth’s smile disappears. “Excuse me.” He suddenly jumps up and leaves the interrogation room.
Booth walks the short distance to the Observation Room, confronting Sweets, “What the hell are you doing?” Sweets reminds him that it’s his job to help the interrogating agent, and Booth answers, “You know I didn’t murder anyone Sweets. So what you’re doing right now, is your just studying me.”
“That’s part of our agreement too.”
“If you have a question for me you ask me yourself,” Booth answers angrily. “Don’t use her.”
“Alright okay,” Sweets answers, holding up his fingers. “Two questions. One, am I picking up some sexual tension between you and Agent Perotta?”
“How the hell do I know what you’re picking up?”
“Okay, uh, two. Underneath your affable exterior is a deep residue of rage,” Sweets tells him, getting serious. “My question, do you always have that under control?”
“You know if I didn’t, you’d be dead right now instead of just wincing,” Booth answers, heading for the door.
“I’m not wincing,” Sweets says quietly, and Booth swings around to warn, “Don’t ever bring my old man up again.” With that he leaves, slamming the door behind him.
Sweets shakes his head. “Rats I witnessed.”
Booth reenters the Interrogation Room and sits back down, asking Agent Perotta, “Do YOU have anymore question?” She smiles and takes out her ear piece.
“Thank you.”
“Yeah,” Agent Perotta says, glancing at his chest. “Do you work out much?”
“Yeah I’m pretty consistent,” Booth answers, and Agent Perotta nods adding, “You look like you take *excellent* care of yourself.”
In the Observation Room, Sweets just shakes his head, muttering, “This is just useless.”
~*~*~
Back in the lab, Cam and Wendell are looking at the x-rays of the remains. Both knees are fractured, but Wendell doesn’t think it would be from hockey, not with the pads they wear. He believes the cause of death was some type of weapon that passed through the victim’s left eye into the orbital fissure.
Cam studies the skull x-ray and they agree that it wasn’t a bullet that caused the trauma because there were no fragments left.
~*~*~
Booth, Bones, and Agent Perotta are let into Pete Carlson’s apartment by his landlord, Connie Withers. Agent Perotta takes pictures as she asks if Carlson was up on his rent.
“Good question,” Booth whispers. “Great start.”
Bones gives him a strange look, and Connie answers that Pete was up on his rent…”mostly. 500 bucks short. He was a big kid at heart,” she assures. “Pete…what he really loved was hockey. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why he joined the fire department.”
As Bones and Agent Perotta continue to search the apartment, Booth listens a Connie tells him that she was the one who got Pete the necklace with the crosses hockey sticks. Agent Perotta asks if she went to any of his games, and Connie nods. “Oh all of them, yeah.”
“You were a couple?”
Before Connie can answer Perotta, Bones interrupts, “It looks like someone went through all of his belongings and then left them on the floor.”
“Oh it always looks like that,” Connie answers.
Agent Perotta asks if the car outside with the flat tire belongs to Pete, and Connie tells them that someone slashed the tires just before he disappeared.
“Why didn’t you report him missing?” Booth asks, and Connie struggles to answer that she thought he was staying with someone else. She nervously plays with her ear.
Perotta rifles through a bunch of unpaid bills as Bones points to the fish tank in the middle of the room. “Looks like he couldn’t afford to feed his fish either.” She walks over to get a closer look at the many dead fish floating in the cloudy water.
Agent Perotta finds a post-it that reads: Albie-Thurs. 11:00 PM She asks who Albie is, but Connie doesn’t know.
Bones picks up Pete’s dirty hockey jersey and sniffs. “This is blood.” She takes it over to Booth, who reminds her that “it’s a hockey jersey, Bones. You know, hockey players bleed sometimes when you play the game.”
Agent Perotta asks Connie how bad Pete’s finances were before he died, and Connie tells her that two days before he died, Pete asked her for $2,000.
“Did he say what for?”
“He liked me, you know?” Connie answers. “He was one of those guys he—he didn’t say much, but he could be real sweet. And a man borrows money from a woman it means he there’s a bond of trust, right?”
Clearly Connie needs some reassurance, but Bones just frowns. “I don’t understand your reasoning.”
“I do,” Booth reassures. “It’s definitely a bond of trust, you’re absolutely right.”
Agent Perotta tells Connnie that they’re terribly sorry for her loss, and Bones just looks at her partner.
~*~*~
Bones joins Cam in the lab. “Is that our victim?” Yep. And Cam’s almost done so Bones can clean and study the bones now. Bones asks if Cam still thinks the cause of death was a projectile through the left eye, and Cam answers yes, but they’re still stumped as to what kind of projectile since they didn’t find any fragments leftover.
Bones leans forward to look at the remains and notices the victim recently lost a tooth. Cam reminds her that he was a hockey player.
“So basically we’re talking about Gladiators,” Bones answers.
Cam smiles. “And I love it.”
“Perhaps the sight of males battling stimulates the part of your brain that has so far failed to find a suitable mate,” Bones tries to help.
Thankfully, Cam is saved by the entrance of Hodgins, who is there to tell them that the water he found in the victim’s esophagus wasn’t from the lake. The water he found was deionized and from—
“Ice rinks!” Bones interrupts, and once again Hodgin’s thunder is stolen.
“Kind of dropped my punchline there Dr. B,” he answers. “But yes. We should see what rinks are closest to the lake.”
“It’s the one Booth played at,” Cam answers grimly, and Bones finds “it interesting that the evidence keeps pointing towards Booth.”
Hmmmm…
~*~*~
Booth and Agent Perotta go back to the ice rink to talk to Pete Carlson’s teammates/fellow volunteer firefighters: Ed, Dave, and Alex. None of them can believe that Pete’s dead.
“Pete, he’s indestructible.”
“Not so indestructible,” one of them corrects, nodding to Booth. “This guy took him down a few notches. Made him stay there too.” Booth reminds them that it was the heat of the game. “Your guy crossed the line.”
“Whoever got Pete musta got a drop on him. Pete wouldn’t go easy.”
Agent Perotta asks why nobody reported him missing, and they tell her that they hadn’t seen him ately. Pete got into a fight with a player from The Fuzz named Lou Herrin. He was kicked out the rest of the season. Booth understands that the fights are kept on the ice, and the guys suggest they talk to Chloe Bratton. Who’s Chloe? They nod to a figure skater on the ice, who they refer to as a “puff bunny”.
“Her and Pete put in some quality mattress time before he dumped her,” one of the guys says with a smirk.
“Well a mattress isn’t really Chloe’s style,” his teammate jokes, then tells Perotta, “No offense.”
“None taken,” she answers easily. “I favor backseats myself.”
~*~*~
Booth and Perotta talk to Chloe, who can’t believe Pete’s dead. Agent Perotta asks how long ago they broke up, and Chloe tells her that they didn’t break up.
“His teammates think you did,” Booth answers, but Chloe answers that they “had this on-again, off-again thing. Casual, no biggie.”
“So you didn’t mind that he slept with different women?” Perotta asks.
“I wouldn’t have minded if he did, but I happen to know that he didn’t,” Chloe answers coldly.
“Well I happen to know that he did,” Booth answers, getting a warning look from Perotta. “Right…” It’s killing Booth not to be the one interrogating the suspect.
“Who?” Chloe asks Booth, but Agent Perotta answers, “Oh is doesn’t matter does it? Given that your relationship was so uh, casual?”
“You slashed his tires, didn’t you?” Booth asks, unable to help himself from asking.
“Agent Booth,” Agent Perotta warns again, and Chloe answers, “No.”
Perotta tells her that they can prove that she did it. “So here’s the deal. You tell us the truth from now on, and we won’t charge you with vandalism and obstruction of justice. Okay?”
“Let’s try this again,” Booth says, leaning forward. “You slashed—”
“Agent Booth?”
“Yes…” Booth stops himself, leaning aback against the railing behind him.
“Let’s try this again,” Perotta says, using Booth’s exact words. “You slashed his tires, didn’t you?”
Chloe finally admits that she did. But Pete was sleeping with someone else and “that passion can take over sometimes. You know how it is when the guy you give yourself to just runs off with someone else.”
Agent Perotta just nods and asks who Albie is.
“Albie?” Chloe things a second, then remembers that Albie runs a poker game in the back of a Chinese restaurant on I street. It was probably why Pete was broke all the time.
Chloe turns back to Booth. “So who’d you say Pete was sleeping with?”
Agent Perotta interrupts, “I think we’ve got enough information for today Miss Bratton, thank you for cooperation.”
Booth thanks her too, and they leave.
~*~*~
Back at the lab that night, Cam joins Bones, Angela, and Wendell.
“Any luck with the murder weapon?”
“Yes,” Bones answers, looking up from the monitor. “We are certain it was not a screwdriver.”
“Well the blood on the victim’s jersey was all his own,” Cam answers.
Bones suddenly notices that the victim’s ribcage has been moved, and Wendell comes over to have a look. “It has?”
“Yes,” Bones answers, running the camera over the ribcage. “See this vague pattern of bone bruising?”
They determine that the victim was struck repeatedly and not from a hockey stick. Wendell says he’ll take a closer look. “I can’t believe I missed that.” Clearly he feels bad about it, and Cam catches Bones’s eye, trying to motion to her to encourage him. Bones, totally missing the intent of the gesture, tells Wendell, “No, I can’t believe you missed that either.” Angela and Cam sigh internally. Poor Wendell walks off.
Cam leans towards Bones. “I was signaling you to encourage Wendell by saying anyone could have missed that. But…”
“You should have said so,” Bones answers, still looking at the bones. “Booth says I stink at nonverbal communication.”
Angela and Cam exchange a look. Yes, yes she does.
~*~*~
Booth and Perotta make their way through the Chinese restaurant’s kitchen. Booth pulls his gun out.
Perotta: Oh so you’re ready to risk a gun fight with your weapon in the wrong hand.
Booth: I don’t have a wrong hand.
Booth kicks the back door open and they both draw their weapons.
The group of men inside the room all have theirs drawn as well.
Perotta stairs at the guns. “What do you we do now?”
“Okay, FBI,” Booth announces. When nobody drops their guns, he adds, “I’d reach for my badge right now, but you know, I—” he holds up his cast.
Agent Perotta pulls out her badge. “Drop your weapons please.”
“Please?” Booth asks her, whispering, “The FBI does not say please.” To the group of men he says that he doesn’t really care about the illegal gambling. “I just want to talk to a guy named Albie about a guy named Pete Carlson.”
A woman steps through the group of men. “I’m Albie.” Booth lowers his gun.
~*~*~
Sitting at a table in the restaurant, Albie tells Booth and Agent Perotta, “First rule: Don’t kill the people who owe you money. All you get then is trouble and no money.” Perotta asks how much money Pete owed, but Albie remains quiet.
Studying his bowl of noodles, Booth casually says, “Okay, so you got your operation shut down and moved out? Cause I could have my guys here in, about what? Three minutes? Two?” Perotta nods. “To mop that back room up.” He smiles at Albie and takes a sip of his soup, and she finally tells them that “Pete Carlson was not a bad player most of the time. You know, every once in a while…”
“He got brave and lost everything, huh?” Booth asks, and Albie looks at him.
“Gamble a bit yourself do you?”
“I’m reformed.”
Perotta asks when the last time it was that Pete got brave, and Albie tells them it was last month. He paid with a gold bracelet. Albie puts it on the table, stating, "I don't know where Pete got it. But it covered his debt."
“Okay,” she announces. “You gave me time to move my operation, I gave you evidence, we’ll call it square.” Albie starts to get up, then adds to Booth, “You decide to get back into the game, you look me up.”
“Right, yeah.”
Albie walks away, and Perotta asks, “Well, we gonna call this in?”
“No, no point,” Booth answers. “Like the woman said, she’s moved on.”
~*~*~
At the Potomac Ice Rink, Booth, Bones and Perotta step onto the ice in search of signs of a struggle.
“Hodgins confirmed that the traces of rink water in the victim’s esophagus—” Booth slips and Bones turns to make sure he’s okay, then continues, “Came from this rink.”
“How did rink ice get into his throat?” Booth asks, and Bones explains that he was beaten and a sharp instrument was thrust into his eye. There should be blood stains here.
Bones pulls out her ALS wand, and Perotta gives her a skeptical look. “You’re gonna scan the ice with one little wand?” Yes, yes she is. Perotta thinks she should call in an FBI forensics team. “We’ll have the whole place searched.”
“No need,” Booth answers, glancing up at the disco ball above the ice. “All you need is black light right?”
“Yes…” Bones answers, not sure where he’s going with this.
“Alright I got a great idea—” Booth slips again, and adds, “Stay here, it’s very slippery, don’t move.” He walks carefully off the ice.
The lights shut off and the room is flooded in black light.
Bones: Nice.
Perotta: Wow.
Booth: Did it work?
The disco ball glitters over the ice as they all start looking for signs of blood. There are flecks of blood all over the place, but since the victim was stabbed in the eye they’re looking for a pretty significant puddle. Bones fines a big pool of blood and calls Booth over.
Booth takes a look. “Whoa.”
Bones agrees. “This is going to turn out to be the place where Pete Carlson was murdered.”
~*~*~
At the lab, Cam and Hodgins receive the deliveries of all the rink water from the crime scene, including the ice scrapings from inside the Zamboni.
“Hopefully we’ll get enough DNA out of this to confirm the blood was Carlson’s,” Hodgins says, as he searches through the water. “Whoa—” he pulls something from the strainer. “Human tooth.”
“It’s hockey,” Cam reminds. “That Zamboni probably had a hundred teeth in there.”
Hodgins pulls another tooth from the water. “Looks like we found where the Tooth Fairy winters.”
~*~*~
Hodgins joins Wendell in the Bone Room. Wendell is just starting to try and match the teeth to the skull. Hodgins clicks on the screen, telling Wendell that he still hasn’t IDed the nylon polymer found on the victim’s shirt.
Angela joins them, telling them that she “looked at like a thousand photos of those blood patterns found at the rink, and tons from the apartment.”
“Why, what are you looking for?” Hodgins joins her over at another monitor as she clicks it on and shows them a photo of the blood splatter pattern from the rink. “The body was dragged in that direction,” she indicates, and Wendell wants to know what the drops on the opposite side are from.
“What drops?”
“Those drop, right there.”
“They parallel the dragging body,” Hodgins says, seeing them too. “And they aren’t smeared.”
“These parallel drops aren’t from the victim,” Angela says, finally seeing them. “They’re from whoever dragged him across the ice.”
“Well that means we need to look for more than just Pete’s DNA.”
“Too bad we can’t just question the fish,” Angela answers dryly, clicking to another picture of the dead fish in Pete’s home tank.
Wendell frowns at the picture. “What killed those fish?”
“Not eating for three weeks?” Angela tries, but Wendell doesn’t buy it. “If that happened,” he answers, “They’d eat each other.”
“Ohhh…”
“Grab your coat,” Hodgins tells Wendell. “We’re goin’ on a field trip.” To Angela, he adds, “Tell Cam to check the rink samples to find out if there’s a second source of DNA.”
“I’m not really a big fan of this—” Too late, Hodgins and Wendell are gone. “—Barking out order stuff…” Angela finishes to herself. Regardless, she picks up the phone to dial Cam.
~*~*~
At the FBI, Sweets is meeting with Booth.
“Agent Booth, it’s come to the attention of the Deputy Director that you are a viable suspect in a murder case.”
Booth just stares at Sweets, somewhat amused, as he uses a pencil to scratch the inside of his cast. “Right, okay, he wants you to make sure that I’m not viable.”
“That’s correct.”
Booth laughs. “Come on Sweets, you know I didn’t kill anyone, so, you know, put that shrink talk and write out your little form and send it in.” Thinking that’s all there is too it, Booth gets up, but Sweets stops him.
“Yes of course,” he answers, gesturing for Booth to sit back down. “But to do that I need to ask you some questions.”
Booth sighs. “Alright.” He sits back down on the couch. “Shoot.”
“I saw you in that game. You beat another man to the ice…”
“It’s hockey. I was protecting my teammate.”
“You broke your hand on his helmet,” Sweets reminds, and once again, Booth tries to get him to understand that, “It’s hockey, okay?” After a second, he adds, “you never played, did you?”
“Oh I run track, and cross-country, and did some wrestling, and ch—” Sweets stops himself and nods.
Booth chuckles. “Chess!”
“No.”
“Checkers?”
“Didn’t say that.”
“You know what?” Booth asks, amused. “Then you no nothing. It’s about teams, okay? And teamwork. Obviously you don’t know anything about that Dr. Sweets.”
“Mmmhmm,” Sweets answers, leaning forward. “You joined the army, you became a sniper—”
“Mmhmm...”
“You joined the FBI. Do you see the, uh, binding element in those choices?” Sweets asks, and Booth frowns. What is he getting at? “It’s violence,” Sweets answers his own question.
“Or a love of uniform,” Booth answers, still not taking this seriously. “You ever think that?”
“Agent Booth,” Sweets tries, proceeding carefully. “I believe that you are ready to confront the fact that the violence you may have suffered in childhood—”
That hit a nerve. “You know what?”
“—Has followed you into adulthood,” Sweets finishes despite Booth’s sudden change in demeanor.
“Fill out the form,” Booth warns, no smiles now.
Sweets just stares at him, not backing down.
Suddenly there’s a knock at the door, and Sweets calls, “Not now.” Caroline opens the door anyway. “Hiya Sweets.” She lets herself in, saying, “Uh, if you’re about finished here Booth, in accordance to with the warrant you made me get, Pete Carlson’s phone records are here.”
“Ms. Julian,” Sweets answers, irritated. “Actually I’m the one that decides when we’re done here.”
“Of course you are Cherie, no offense intended.” To Booth she adds, “I’ll be delivering the phone records to Agent Perotta. I thought I’d do that in your office.”
“Thanks Cherie,” Booth says, staring at Sweets pointedly as Caroline leaves. “We’re done.”
Booth gets up and Sweets answers, “Well, we are done, but that was just a coincidence.”
Booth stops at the door. “Sweets, I’ve killed but I’ve never murdered before. Look up the difference in your little black book there, okay?” Booth leaves Sweets to sigh again at his lack of progress.
~*~*~
“This is legal, right?” Wendell asks as he and Hodgins let themselves into Pete’s apartment.
“Absolutely.”
“Okay.”
Hodgins walks over to the fish tank to have a look at the dead fish. “None of them look nibbled on. Ah man, they should have gone at each other like a Peruvian soccer team stranded in the Andes.” He pulls out a fish net and plastic bag as Wendell takes a picture, noting, “They all died at the same time.”
Hodgins fishes out the fish and Wendell is confused. “I don’t see what this is gonna tell us.” He snaps another crime scene photo as Hodgins answers, “How they died.”
“No, I mean about the case.”
“Oooo, if Brennan were here she’d smack your face,” Hodgins answers with a grin. “Her philosophy is, we find out the facts about everything, and then see how it fits together.” He holds up the bag of dead fish and waits. Wendell just looks at him confused, and Hodgins answers, “Photo opportunity!”
Oh right. Wendell holds up the camera and Hodgins smiles as he takes the picture.
~*~*~
Agent Perotta joins Booth and Caroline in Booth’s office with Pete’s phone records. According to them, Pete made eight calls to Lour Herrin (the State Cop on the other hockey team that he “exchanged blows with on the night he died”). Caroline tells Perotta to go question the cop, but Agent Perotta things they need to get some leverage on the guy; get a warrant to test his DNA to tie him to the crime scene.
“Here we go,” Booth warns, but it’s too late. Caroline is not happy. She jumps up, heading for the door. "Get a warrant for this Ms. Julian, get a warrant for that.” She turns to face Perotta. “You need grounds for a warrant, Cherie. Don't they teach that at Quantico anymore? What grounds have you got for that warrant? None. Nothing, you just wishin’." She leaves, exasperated.
Booth glances at the picture hockey picture on his wall and gets an idea. “I know how to get some blood out of this Herrin.”
“Legally?” Agent Perotta asks.
“Yeah, of course legally.”
“How?”
“Well, there’s a big game tonight right?” Booth gets up. “And sometimes during a big game, people bleed. Huh?” He grins at his great idea.
Perotta sighs. “I don’t like it.”
“Then you don’t have to show up.”
She leaves with a smile.
~*~*~
At the Potomac Ice Rink, Booth is sawing off his own cast as Wendell comes out dressed in his hockey gear. He spots Booth. “Whoa, what are you doin’ man?”
“What’s it look like I’m doing?” Booth answers, continuing to saw at the cast.
“You think that’s a good idea? You got another couple weeks on that cast.”
“Well considering I can’t play with a cast on, yeah, I think it’s a great idea.” He keeps sawing, then asks, “You clear about the plan?”
Wendell glances at the rink then leans in closer. “Somebody bleeds, I collect the sample, put it in the sample, pass it off to Dr. Brennan.”
Booth tells him that Lou Herrin, #5, is their prime suspect. “I gotta make him bleed.” There’s a loud crack as he finally breaks off the dreaded itchy cast.
~*~*~
Bones and Agent Perotta sit in the bleachers watching the players get ready for the game.
“You’ve worked with Agent Booth for awhile now, right?” Perotta asks.
“Mmmhm.”
“Is he the kind of guy that…uh, you know…is he…flirty?” she finally asks.
“Flirty?” Bones is confused.
“Would you say he twinkles his eyes at all women?”
“Twinkly eyes actually result when pupils dilate very wide,” Bones answers, every the scientific helpful. “Which is an unconscious result of intense interest or sexual attraction.”
“So no, he doesn’t twinkle at everyone?”
“No,” Bones answers simply, turning her attention back to the rink.
“Alright,” Perotta answers, clearly considering this.
The whistle is blown, and they turn their attention back to the game.
Booth and Wendell skate up together.
“Is that the guy?”
“That’s him. Lou Herrin, number five.”
“Wow,” Wendell answers. “Think he even knows how to bleed?”
“Just keep your head up, alright?”
With another whistle, the game begins. Booth does everything he can to draw blood from every player, knocking them down all over the place. Wendell follows, carefully collecting the samples and passing them off to Bones to label. After a while, it seems like #5 is the only one who hasn’t shed a drop of blood.
Agent Perotta takes pictures throughout the game. #5 is getting agitated at Booth, and shoves him aside. “I think I’m finally getting to this guy,” Booth says, and Wendell calls out, “Hope you survive it!”
Booth and Lou Herrin knock back and forth as they make their way down the ice, and finally Booth elbows him hard enough to draw blood. Herrin spits out the blood, then goes after Booth hard. Booth has just enough time to swing around before Herrin slams into hi, knocking him to the ice so hard that Booth’s helmet flies off. He hits the ice hard, knocking him unconscious.
Booth lays flat on the darkened ice by himself. Somebody skates over and peppers his face with a thin spray of ice. Booth comes to and blinks.
“Luc Robitaille?”
The famous hockey play grins down at him. “Seeley Booth.” Booth glances around, totally confused. Is this really happening? “Let’s go,” Luc tells him. “Let’s play.”
Not one to give up this opportunity even if it is a hallucination, Booth gets to his feet, slightly star-struck. “You’re the greatest left-winger of all time.”
“And you’re the best player on your team,” Luc answers. “For what that’s worth.” He slides the puck over to Booth. “Alright, let’s go, come on.”
Booth and Luc start their one-on-one game, but Booth suddenly stops. “Whoa, what a second, I can’t play hockey with you, I have to solve a murder.”
“You know Booth,” Luc answers, skating around to shoot a goal. “It’s not about the blood. It’s the best forensic clue. Forget the blood.”
“Then what?”
“You know what makes a team,” Luc tells him. “Look at the team. It’s about what brings the team together.”
“The team…” Booth thinks about this. “Look at the team…”
“Alright let’s go. One-on-one, let’s see what you got! Come on Booth!”
Booth grins. Okay, maybe there is some time to play. He heads down the ice, and Luc knocks him down. “Okay, I thought I could get by you there,” Booth admits, looking up from the ice.
“You’ll never get by me,” Luc answers with a grin.
“Right.”
“Now listen, Booth,” Luc says, bending down to talk to him. “You’re not your father, okay? You protect the ones you care about on the ice and off the ice, that’s who you are. You’re not your father.” Luc skates off, leaving the words to echo in Booth’s brain. “You’re not your father…you’re not your father…”
“Booth?...Booth?”
Booth comes to to find Bones staring down at him. “Bones? What are you doing on the ice?”
“I get nervous when you fall down and don’t get up,” she answers, and Bones and Wendell help him to his feet.
Lou blots a towel against his bloody mouth, glaring at Booth.
“Don’t worry,” Wendell tells Booth, ignoring Lou. “I got the blood.”
“Good work, Bones,” Booth answers, somewhat groggily.
“I’m Bones,” Bones corrects, and he just stares at his partner. That was one hard hit to the head!
Lou watches them walk off the ice.
~*~*~
At the lab, Angela walks in to find Hodgins blending something reddish in a kitchen blender. She makes a disgusted face. “Smells like fish in here.”
“Yeah, it’s the victim’s goldfish,” he answers, pouring out the fish sludge and adding, “They died of ammonia poisoning.”
“How did that happen?”
“Maybe the victim washed his aquarium with window clearer? I don’t know.” Done pouring the mixture, Hodgins asks, “How are things with you and Roxie?”
Angela is surprised. “Good, good. Taking it slow, you know. Let things unfold in a—are you seeing anybody?”
“I uh, actually went out on a date last night.”
“Oh…I’m glad to hear that.”
“Any little twinge there?” Hodgins asks, looking up from his fish concoction.
“Definitely a little twinge, yeah,” Angela says with a laugh. “But despite the twinge, I’m glad you’re back in the saddle.”
“Well not back in the saddle exactly,” he answers. “It was just a first date. Barely got out of the barn,” he jokes, snapping off his rubber gloves.
Angela laughs, then asks, “You saw the victim’s apartment, right?”
“Yes, yeah, yeah a pigsty.”
“I don’t think that guy cleaned anything,” Angela comments. “Not with ammonia, not with anything.” She leaves, leaving Hodgins to think about this fact.
~**~*~
Sweets walks into Bones’s office to find her helping Booth put ice on his head. “I came as soon as I heard Booth had a brain injury. What part of your head hurts?” he asks, sitting down across from them.
“The part above my shoulders,” Booth answers with a wince.
“The doctor said he has a concussion,” Bones answers. “He shouldn’t fall asleep, otherwise it’s not serious.”
“Tell him about the hallucination,” Booth urges, and when Sweets asks what hallucination, Booth tells him, “Luc Robitaille gave me advice.”
Bones and Sweets exchange a confused look, and Bones asks, “You got advice on a murder case from—”
“What did he say?” Sweets interrupts.
“He said don’t worry about the players blood.”
“Oh,” Sweets answers, getting that psychologist look in his eye. “That’s very interesting…”
“Lucky Luc told me to look in a different direction.”
“That is interesting,” Sweets reiterates.
“Stop saying that. Stop.”
Cam joins them to tell them that the second set of DNA from the ice rink doesn’t belong to Lou Herrin.
“Lucky Luc was right!” Booth answers excitedly, still holding the bag of ice to his head.
“No, all that means is you got your brain scrambled for nothing,” Cam answers.
“Lucky Luc is never wrong,” Booth insists, and Sweets tells him that this hallucination “could be Booth’s subconscious speaking to him in a voice, an image, of someone he idolizes.”
“Like a modern version of a vision quest?” Bones asks, and Booth pulls the ice from his head, thinking out loud. “You know what? Hallucination or not I—” he winces as he stands up “—Lucky Luc, he told me something about myself that…” Booth trails off, and they all look at him as he mutters, “He told me something…”
Booth starts for the door, and Sweets answers, “I’d be very interested in knowing what he said.”
“Lucky for me, you’re never gonna find out,” Booth answers. “Because Bones is gonna drive me home and get me soup.” He slaps the ice back on his head and groans on his way out the door. Bones quickly gets to her feet, handing off the file folder to Cam on her way after her partner.
~*~*~
At Pete Carlson’s apartment, Wendell and Hodgins stare at the cloudy fish tank.
“There has got to be some reason these fish died of ammonia poisoning.”
“Last time I did this I ended up in juvy hall for the weekend,” Wendell answers as Hodgins dunks a gloved hand into the water.
“What?”
“What? Uh, nothing.”
Hodgins digs around in the gravel until he suddenly finds a fistful of buried treasure. “Oh wow.” He pulls up a handful of necklaces and bracelets. “Buried treasure!”
“What do we do now?” Wendell asks, leaning over to have a closer look. Why was Pete hiding jewelry in his fish tank?
~*~*~
At the FBI, Caroline is irritated again. “Haven’t you people ever heard of something called Chain of Evidence?” Agent Parotta tries to cut in, but Caroline just gestures to Hodgins and Wendell, asking, “Why didn’t you go with these two idiots to the victim’s home?”
“Please don’t call my people idiots,” Cam replies, offended.
Hodgins: We’re not idiots.
Wendell: I feel like an idiot.
Cam: You don’t speak right now. Either of you.
Cam defends them, telling Caroline that “my people are often at crime scenes, it’s what we do.”
“No it’s not,” Caroline insists. “You got it in your heads that your crime scene types.” She sighs. “This is Booth’s fault for indulging your fantasy. You are not crime scene types, you are lab rats.”
“No chain of evidence was broken,” Cam explains, telling her that when Hodgins and Wendell found the jewelry, “They immediately called me, I called Booth, and when his head hurt too much to talk to me, I called Agent Perotta.”
“Miss Julian,” Perotta finally gets a chance to speak.
“What?” Caroline asks, looking at her as if she’d forgotten she was in the room.
“A photograph of dead fish led them to this. I think that kind of brilliance worth it.”
Hodgins and Wendell suddenly look at Agent Perotta with a new respect.
“You’ve been taken hostage by the Squints, Agent Perotta,” Caroline answers, none too happy about it. Despite all this, she admits that “it turns out these items were reported destroyed in a fire.”
Hodgins points out that the victim was a fireman, and Wendell agrees that the FBI can look to see if the Firedawgs were the ones who put out that fire. “Stole from the fire and cleaned off with ammonia,” Hodgins adds, putting the pieces together. “Hidden in the aquarium, killed the fish,” Wendell finishes.
“Okay,” Cam answers. “Now you are straying out of your territory.”
“No they got it right,” Caroline answers begrudgingly. Turns out the bracelet they got from the Albie was reported stolen in that same fire.
“My people were right!” Perotta answers with a big smile.
“Your people?” Caroline and Cam both ask at the same time, after which, Hodgins and Wendell simultaneously answer, “We’re Booth’s people.” Caroline gives an approving grunt and Perotta’s smile falters. So much for that respect.
~*~*~
Sitting on the couch in his apartment, Booth uses his laptop to study the Firedawgs website. Something’s been bothering him and he can’t quite put his finger on it. He studies the pictures onscreen, then glances down at the list of Firedawgs name and hockey jersey numbers. He clicks through the website and finds a high school hockey team picture. He picks up the FIredawgs list and lines it up to the Senior high school list. Turns out Ed Fralic, Dave Simms, Alex Pina and Pete Carlson not only play and together now, but they were on the same team in high school. “What brings them together…?”
Booth is deep in thought when Bones lets herself in. “I’m back.” She carries a white bag in with her and finds Booth mumbling, “What brings them together? The team…”
“I got the soup from the place—and yes I told “Momma” that it was for you specially,” Bones tells him, setting the bag on the kitchen table. She takes off her jacket and sits down next to him on the couch, noticing the computer. “What are you doing?”
“It’s all about the team there,” Booth answers, then it suddenly makes sense. “Bones, it’s all about the team there! These four guys, they all played hockey together in high school, only now, they all play together as a team.”
“They’re all fireman?” she asks, looking at the pictures.
“Yeah, they all worked the jewelry store fire.” He gestures to the computer screen, adding, “One of these three guys is the murderer.”
“According to Mr. Lucky?” Bones asks, and Booth winces, holding his head against and telling her, “It’s Lucky Luc. Okay? It is not “Mr. Lucky”, it is Luc Robitaille.”
As Bones suddenly notices Booth’s hockey bag, bag, he carefully continues to explain, “Left. Wing. Great shot, Luc Robitaille, he’s one of the best players of all time—” He can’t get over how she doesn’t know this, and Bones is not paying any attention to what he’s saying.
“What is this?” she asks, holding up a long metal hook.
“It’s a lace puller, why?”
“I think it might be the murder weapon.”
At the FBI, Booth, Bones, and Perotta talk to Alex Pina, Ed Fralic, and Dave Simms. One of them wants a lawyer, and the other insists that they don’t need one because they didn’t do anything wrong.
“What about Pete?” Booth asks, and Perotta adds, “Did he break some kind of fireman’s code or something like that?”
“Yeah somethin’ like that,” one of the men replies dryly, and another decides he’s got nothing to say about any of this without a lawyer. Bones tells them that they know Pete was beaten with a hockey stick, after which a lace puller entered his brain through his eye and killed him.
“How about your dream, Ed?” Booth asks, and Ed looks at him. “You were gonna play for the NHL, right?” Booth asks, setting down a printoff of a newspaper article and reading, “Local being scouted by the NHL.” He pulls out another one, and Ed admits, “I got hurt. Now I sell siding, I play hockey on the weekends.”
“Why you gotta rub his face in the past?” his friend asks, and Booth asks Ed who ruined him. Ed hesitates a moment, glances at his friends, then finally answers, “Pete Carlson…It was Pete.”
So if they all knew about the stolen jewelry, who was there the night Pete was killed? Ed’s friends insist that none of them had anything to do with it, and Bones tells them how much evidence they already have and Booth reminds them that it’s only a matter of time before they figure out which one of them did it.
After another moment, Ed finally confesses. “Yeah, it was me.” His friends are shocked. “I asked to meet Pete on the ice after everybody left,” Ed continues. “I told him to give back the stolen jewelry, and he said to me…he said to me that I was a coward. That I didn’t do anything to him back in the day when he wrecked my life. That I wouldn’t do anything to him now.”
Alex and Dave exchange a look, feeling for their friend.
“But he was wrong,” Ed finishes.
~*~*~
At the Potomac Ice Rink, Bones tells her partner, “I’m not positive this is a good idea,” as she steps onto the ice in skates. “Ah!” She immediately slips, falling to the ice, and Booth rushes over to help, “Oh! I gotcha, I gotcha! Stay up here, okay?” Bones laughs as he leans over to help her up. “It’s alright, here we go, one more.”
Booth pulls her to her feet, telling his partner that “I got to stay up all night, so who better to keep me company than you?”
“You and me skating is saving you from slipping into a coma?” Bones asks as he holds onto her and they start to skate.
“Ah well—” She slips again, and he catches her. “Easy Bones, now I’m gonna go down.”
She laughs, insisting that, “I have a lot of natural athletic ability!”
“Oh yeah, natural, I can, I can see that,” Booth teases, still holding her arm to keep her up. “Real smooth and natural.” He lets her go and turns to face her, easily skating backwards in front of her. “That’s it. Alright.” He swings around again, taking her hand, and this time he slips. Bones grips his hand, scared that she might fall again, but Booth steadies himself.
“That Agent Perotta, she really enjoyed working with us,” Bones says, still hanging onto his index finger.
“Yeah.”
“But um…” Bones hesitates a second, then admits, “You’re the only FBI Agent I want to work with.”
Booth studies her a moment, smiling, then lets her hand go to skate backwards in front of her again, as Bones asks, “Will you tell me what the Lucky Luciano told you?”
“He’s not an Italian opera singer! Bones, why do you always say that wrong? You do it on purpose don’t you?”
“I would like to know what he said to you,” Bones argues, taking his hand again.
“He said that I’m not like—my old man,” Booth answers as they continue to skate around the rink. “He said I’m made of better stuff.”
“Well,” Bones says, taking his arm. “I don’t know your old man, your father? But I think you’re made of very very good stuff.”
Booth is touched. “Hey, you know what?” He swings around to face her again. “Forget about Agent Perotta, alright? Nothing’s gonna change between me and you.”
“Well entropy is a natural force—“ Bones begins to rationalize as Booth skates up behind her. “—That pulls everything apart at a subatomic level—” He begins to push her faster and she begins to talk faster, “—Everything changes!”
“Not if we stay close,” Booth answers with a laugh, hanging onto her as she lets out a scared “Ahh!” He laughs again and takes her hand, and she laughs, warning, “You’re gonna make me fall!”
“I’m never gonna make you fall, I’m always here!”
“That was kind of fun actually.”
They head for the next corner, and Booth warns, “Okay, here comes the big spin!”
“Uh-oh—”
He spins her around and she laughs. Clearly they’re both enjoying the nighttime skating.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Awww! That ending totally made up for all the Agent Perotta time.
And David, all that hockey playing pretty impressive there! 
Love the Hodgins and fish photo op, and Wendell is not my favorite intern of the week.
Dressed in his “Fed-Cases” hockey gear, Booth glades across the ice. He, Wendell, and the other Fed-Cases face off against the Firedawgs, as Bones, Sweets, and Cam watch from the bleachers.
“Let’s have a nice clean game everyone.” The whisle is blown and the game is on.
“Go Booth!”
Booth slams one of the opposing team’s players against the glass and Cam cheers him on. Bones is confused. “What did he do that for?”
“It’s what Booth does, keeps the other team honest,” Cam explains. “He’s what you call an ‘enforcer’.”
“What, like law enforcement?”
“Yeah okay,” Cam answers, still watching the game. “Let’s go with that.”
They watch as Pete Carlson, a Firedawg, crosschecks one of Booth’s team members. The ref doesn’t call it, making Booth mad. When Carlson makes a goal, Booth knocks him to the ice. “That was a cheap shot Carlson!” Carlson merely shrugs. “It’s hockey.” Booth reminds him that “some of us have to go to work in the morning”.
“Uh-oh…” Cam comments as Booth is put in the penalty box.
Bones still doesn’t quite understand this whole hockey thing. “So this is punitive right? To be sent to this little area right here?”
Booth tosses his hockey stick aside calling out, “Keep your head up next time #12, huh? Keep your head up!”
“Yeah yeah, I’ll be waiting,” Carlson mocks.
“Come on!” Booth glances over and Bones waves. “Hi!” He waves back then grins as Cam and Sweets explain to Bones what that little area “is called the penalty box.” Sweets explains that Booth “committed a penalty when he checked the big guy when he didn’t have the puck.”
The game continues, and another one of Booth’s teammates gets knocked to the ice. “There’s your hit right there ref, that you missed again!” Booth calls out, and Bones notices his frustration. “Booth seems quite anxious to get out of that disciplinary box.”
Sweets agrees. “Yeah, I’ve never seen him this agitated before.”
“Open man! Open man!” Booth calls out, and the other team makes a goal.
“That’s not good, right?” Bones asks, and Sweets confirms that it’s not.
Booth gets out of the penalty box and Bones and sweets cheer him on. “Go Booth!” “Whoohooo!”
The puck is down and Wendell grabs it. He heads down the ice, and Bones excitedly points out, “Oh! Wendell might get a basket!” Cam and Sweets just look at her, confused.
Carlson (#12) slams into Wendell, who goes down on the ice, and Booth shouts, “Elbow! Elbow!” Cam, Sweets, and Bones all cringe.
Bones: Is Wendell okay?
Sweets: That can’t be good.
Cam: It definitely is not.
The ref blows a short whistle, and Wendell tries to get up. Hurt, he falls back to the ice. Angry, Booth approaches Carlson. “C’mon, what are you doin’?” Carlson shoves Booth’s shoulder. “You want to go?” Booth shoves him back, and Carlson throws his stick to the ice. “Let’s go, come on!” That’s it, Booth’s had it.
Carlson starts hitting him and Bones, Cam, and Sweets all stand up to watch as Booth punches back. “You’re a dirty player, Carlson.” Even Carlson’s own players aren’t stepping in to defend him. “Don’t take shots at my guy!” Booth warns as Carlson continues to struggle. “It ends here, hey Carlson?” Booth hits him hard. Cam and Bones cringe, but Sweets urges Booth on with a fierce growl.
They watch Carlson fall to his knees, and Bones says, “Booth seems to be winning.”
“It’s not Booth I’m worried about,” Cam answers, watching as Booth continues to pummel the guy, winning the fight easily. The ref intervenes, and Booth tells Carlson to “get up off that ice and we’ll finish this in the parking lot.” Carlson doesn’t get up.
“If you did your job,” Booth tells the ref, “I wouldn’t have to do it for you.” The ref warns him to go on, and Booth argues, “Look at him, he’s hittin’ my guys!”
Everyone claps as Booth skates over to help Wendell up. “Did I score one, man?” Wendell asks dazedly. “Oh yeah,” Booth answers, favoring his right hand as he helps Wendell off the ice.
“I do not know how I feel about this,” Bones says as she watches them go.
“It’s very primal,” Sweets answers, and Cam adds an enthusiastic, “I like it. Just a little too much.” They both look at her as she realizes what she’s just said.
~*~*~
Back in the locker room, Wendell holds a bag of ice up to his head, Booth one on his hand as they try to undress.
“You still seein’ double?” Booth asks.
“Only when I open more than one eye,” Wendell answers with a dry laugh. “Your hand’s busted.”
“Yeah well, you know, the guy left his helmet on.”
Wendell laughs and Booth pulls some more of his gear with his good hand. Suddenly the locker room door opens and Bones appears without warning. “Hey, are you two alright?”
They just stare at her as some of the other guy’s comment, “Wow!”
“What?” she asks.
“You want to wait outside?” Booth asks, and she still doesn’t get it.
“I thought your hand might be broken. Want me to have a look at it?”
“No, it’s alright, you can wait outside,” Booth answers politely, adding, “Men’s locker room, Bones.”
Okay, she was just checking. Bones leaves and Wendell and Booth just shake their heads.
~*~*~
In an ice fishing cabin on the lake, and man tells his son, “There comes a time in ice fishing when it’s time for the father to turn the drilling over to his son.” He gets up to get it ready and his son decides, “Man this is a great day!” His father’s letting him drink beer and now run the drill. What more could he ask for? He grins and gets ready to learn the ropes.
“You’re 18 Leo,” his father tells him as his son joins him by the drill. “You start drillin’ holes, it’s safety first. You got me?”
“Yeah,” Leo answers quickly, excited to get started.
He puts his hands on the drill, but his father stops, making sure to point out that nothing he’s saying here implies only to ice fishing…he shoots his son a look. “You get me?”
His son stares at him a second then, “Oh, alright.”
“Good. You know, that way you don’t fall through the ice. And die. Or get a disease, get pregnant—”
“Dad, come on.”
Okay then, drilling it is. Father hands the ice drill over to son, and Leo starts to drill. Everything goes well for the first few seconds, then suddenly “she’s bleedin’, Dad! She’s bleeding!” And he’s right. Blood seeps up through the pure white snow and ice and his father grabs the augur. “Pull out! Pull out!”
They shut off the drill and Leo stares at the bloody hole. “Oh I hope that’s a fish…”
His father leans down to wipe off the snow, revealing a frozen human face.
Leo’s eyes widen and his father tells him to go wait in the truck.
~*~*~
At the crime scene, Booth blows some warmth onto the fingers poking out of the cast on his right arm, and asks, “So what do you think there Bones?”
She looks down at the body as agents pull it from the ice and set it in front of her. “I would surmise that the body went into the lake before it froze, then the lake froze, then the body floated up and became attached to the bottom of the ice.”
“I meant was he murdered.”
“Oh.” Bones glances down at the frozen body as someone takes a crime scene photo of it. “Maybe. Could have been an accident or a suicide. Except—” She gets distracted by Booth trying to itch inside his cast. “You shouldn’t do that.”
“it itches, okay?” He answers, then asks, “Yeah, well, except for what?”
Bones sticks her gloved finger into the skull’s left eye socket, stating that the “trauma to the left maxillary orbit suggest violence.” Again, she’s distracted by his cast itching. “It’s kind of gross what you’re doing.”
“Gross? You got your finger into some guy’s left maxillary orbit.”
Bones can’t see anything else that they can learn from the body here, so she decides they need to “get this popsicle back to the lab!”
“Hey look at that,” Booth answers. “Bones made a joke.”
“I can be quite amusing.”
Booth suddenly spots the necklace the victim is wearing. “Wait a second…” He reaches forward and pulls it up to have a closer look.
“Booth, you’re not wearing any gloves,” Bones chastises, and Booth stares at the necklace.
“Bones, you know that guy I punched out last month during my hockey game? Pete Carlson?”
“Yes, when you broke your hand.”
Booth stares from the body to the necklace to his partner, and tells her, “That’s him…I’m a suspect. Here—” he hands her the necklace and leaves.
~*~*~
At the FBI, Booth continues to scratch at his colorfully signed cast as Caroline announces, that given that Booth is the prime suspect in this murder—Here Bones interrupts, “We don’t know it’s murder,” and Booth quips, “Hey look at that, I’m a prime suspect.”—“Agent Payton Perotta here will be working with Dr. Brennan.
Bones glances at the blond woman sitting opposite here, and merely answers, “I won’t work the case without Booth.”
“In that case, I invite Agent Booth’s participation,” Agent Perotta answers easily. “In the background. As an advisor.” Both smirks.
Caroline tells them that Agent Perotta has a bachelor’s degree in both forensic science and criminology, and Bones points out that “Anything short of a doctorate is virtually useless at my level.”
“How would you like to proceed, darling?” Caroline asks, and it’s Booth who answers, “Well it’s pretty obvious you’d want to interrogate the prime suspect, right?” He smiles at Agent Perotta and continues to scratch the inside of his cast with his pocketknife.
Agent Perotta smiles back. “Yeah.”
Booth grins and Bones just rolls her eyes.
~*~*~
Back at the lab, Cam puts time of death about five days before freezing based on the body’s decomposition. Wendell says that the local cops say the lake froze over three weeks ago, and Hodgins announces that whatever evidence they’re going to get from the lake is going to have to be viewed through the microscope.
“If Booth is a suspect, then I should be too,” Wendell suddenly announces, glancing down at the body. “This guy scrambled my brains.”
“Your alibi is that you were seeing double and being taken care of by your mother,” Cam answers, exchanging an amused look with Hodgins.
Hodgins tells her he’ll get on the samples she took from the lungs and esophagus to see if the victim was drowned somewhere else and then dumped in the lake. Examining the body, Cam casually answers, “No, drowning is not the way Booth would kill someone.” At Wendell and Hodgin’s looks, she quickly adds, “Not that I actually suspect Booth. At all.”
They continue to look at her silently.
“Quit staring at me.”
They look at each other instead, and Hodgins can’t help but smile.
~*~*~
In the FBI interrogation room, Agent Perotta sits across the table from Booth, who tells her that, “in the course of the game, the victim and I exchanged blows.”
“Who initiated the fight?”
“It was hockey.”
“So spontaneous combustion?”
“The guy hit two of my players and the ref didn’t catch that,” Booth explains.
“And that made you angry…”
“Not angry enough to, you know, chase him down after the game and kill him.”
Agent Perotta asks him where he went after the game, and Booth tells her that “Bones drove me and Wendell to the hospital.”
“So no alibi that night or the next.”
“Bones and I are just partners,” Booth answers, catching Agent Perotta’s attention. She looks up and he smiles at her.
“Okay,” she answers with a smile. “Now you’re answering questions I had no intention of asking.”
Booth continues to look amused, and she asks if it was his intention to keep the argument constrained to the ice. When Booth answers that it was, she tells him that she has a witness that tells her that he heard Booth tell the victim “quote “you get up off of that ice and we’ll settle this out in the parking lot”.”
“Trash talking,” Booth answers as if that explains it all.
“Let me cut to the chase here,” Agent Perotta says, leaning forward to ask, “Did you kill Pete Carlson?”
“No.”
“Did you dump his body in the lake?”
“No, I did not Agent Perotta,” Booth answers, leaning forward and still smiling.
Agent Perotta pauses a moment, then suddenly asks, "Do you feel that you're experience as the child of an abusive alcoholic has made you more prone to violence?"
Booth’s smile disappears. “Excuse me.” He suddenly jumps up and leaves the interrogation room.
Booth walks the short distance to the Observation Room, confronting Sweets, “What the hell are you doing?” Sweets reminds him that it’s his job to help the interrogating agent, and Booth answers, “You know I didn’t murder anyone Sweets. So what you’re doing right now, is your just studying me.”
“That’s part of our agreement too.”
“If you have a question for me you ask me yourself,” Booth answers angrily. “Don’t use her.”
“Alright okay,” Sweets answers, holding up his fingers. “Two questions. One, am I picking up some sexual tension between you and Agent Perotta?”
“How the hell do I know what you’re picking up?”
“Okay, uh, two. Underneath your affable exterior is a deep residue of rage,” Sweets tells him, getting serious. “My question, do you always have that under control?”
“You know if I didn’t, you’d be dead right now instead of just wincing,” Booth answers, heading for the door.
“I’m not wincing,” Sweets says quietly, and Booth swings around to warn, “Don’t ever bring my old man up again.” With that he leaves, slamming the door behind him.
Sweets shakes his head. “Rats I witnessed.”
Booth reenters the Interrogation Room and sits back down, asking Agent Perotta, “Do YOU have anymore question?” She smiles and takes out her ear piece.
“Thank you.”
“Yeah,” Agent Perotta says, glancing at his chest. “Do you work out much?”
“Yeah I’m pretty consistent,” Booth answers, and Agent Perotta nods adding, “You look like you take *excellent* care of yourself.”
In the Observation Room, Sweets just shakes his head, muttering, “This is just useless.”
~*~*~
Back in the lab, Cam and Wendell are looking at the x-rays of the remains. Both knees are fractured, but Wendell doesn’t think it would be from hockey, not with the pads they wear. He believes the cause of death was some type of weapon that passed through the victim’s left eye into the orbital fissure.
Cam studies the skull x-ray and they agree that it wasn’t a bullet that caused the trauma because there were no fragments left.
~*~*~
Booth, Bones, and Agent Perotta are let into Pete Carlson’s apartment by his landlord, Connie Withers. Agent Perotta takes pictures as she asks if Carlson was up on his rent.
“Good question,” Booth whispers. “Great start.”
Bones gives him a strange look, and Connie answers that Pete was up on his rent…”mostly. 500 bucks short. He was a big kid at heart,” she assures. “Pete…what he really loved was hockey. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why he joined the fire department.”
As Bones and Agent Perotta continue to search the apartment, Booth listens a Connie tells him that she was the one who got Pete the necklace with the crosses hockey sticks. Agent Perotta asks if she went to any of his games, and Connie nods. “Oh all of them, yeah.”
“You were a couple?”
Before Connie can answer Perotta, Bones interrupts, “It looks like someone went through all of his belongings and then left them on the floor.”
“Oh it always looks like that,” Connie answers.
Agent Perotta asks if the car outside with the flat tire belongs to Pete, and Connie tells them that someone slashed the tires just before he disappeared.
“Why didn’t you report him missing?” Booth asks, and Connie struggles to answer that she thought he was staying with someone else. She nervously plays with her ear.
Perotta rifles through a bunch of unpaid bills as Bones points to the fish tank in the middle of the room. “Looks like he couldn’t afford to feed his fish either.” She walks over to get a closer look at the many dead fish floating in the cloudy water.
Agent Perotta finds a post-it that reads: Albie-Thurs. 11:00 PM She asks who Albie is, but Connie doesn’t know.
Bones picks up Pete’s dirty hockey jersey and sniffs. “This is blood.” She takes it over to Booth, who reminds her that “it’s a hockey jersey, Bones. You know, hockey players bleed sometimes when you play the game.”
Agent Perotta asks Connie how bad Pete’s finances were before he died, and Connie tells her that two days before he died, Pete asked her for $2,000.
“Did he say what for?”
“He liked me, you know?” Connie answers. “He was one of those guys he—he didn’t say much, but he could be real sweet. And a man borrows money from a woman it means he there’s a bond of trust, right?”
Clearly Connie needs some reassurance, but Bones just frowns. “I don’t understand your reasoning.”
“I do,” Booth reassures. “It’s definitely a bond of trust, you’re absolutely right.”
Agent Perotta tells Connnie that they’re terribly sorry for her loss, and Bones just looks at her partner.
~*~*~
Bones joins Cam in the lab. “Is that our victim?” Yep. And Cam’s almost done so Bones can clean and study the bones now. Bones asks if Cam still thinks the cause of death was a projectile through the left eye, and Cam answers yes, but they’re still stumped as to what kind of projectile since they didn’t find any fragments leftover.
Bones leans forward to look at the remains and notices the victim recently lost a tooth. Cam reminds her that he was a hockey player.
“So basically we’re talking about Gladiators,” Bones answers.
Cam smiles. “And I love it.”
“Perhaps the sight of males battling stimulates the part of your brain that has so far failed to find a suitable mate,” Bones tries to help.
Thankfully, Cam is saved by the entrance of Hodgins, who is there to tell them that the water he found in the victim’s esophagus wasn’t from the lake. The water he found was deionized and from—
“Ice rinks!” Bones interrupts, and once again Hodgin’s thunder is stolen.
“Kind of dropped my punchline there Dr. B,” he answers. “But yes. We should see what rinks are closest to the lake.”
“It’s the one Booth played at,” Cam answers grimly, and Bones finds “it interesting that the evidence keeps pointing towards Booth.”
Hmmmm…
~*~*~
Booth and Agent Perotta go back to the ice rink to talk to Pete Carlson’s teammates/fellow volunteer firefighters: Ed, Dave, and Alex. None of them can believe that Pete’s dead.
“Pete, he’s indestructible.”
“Not so indestructible,” one of them corrects, nodding to Booth. “This guy took him down a few notches. Made him stay there too.” Booth reminds them that it was the heat of the game. “Your guy crossed the line.”
“Whoever got Pete musta got a drop on him. Pete wouldn’t go easy.”
Agent Perotta asks why nobody reported him missing, and they tell her that they hadn’t seen him ately. Pete got into a fight with a player from The Fuzz named Lou Herrin. He was kicked out the rest of the season. Booth understands that the fights are kept on the ice, and the guys suggest they talk to Chloe Bratton. Who’s Chloe? They nod to a figure skater on the ice, who they refer to as a “puff bunny”.
“Her and Pete put in some quality mattress time before he dumped her,” one of the guys says with a smirk.
“Well a mattress isn’t really Chloe’s style,” his teammate jokes, then tells Perotta, “No offense.”
“None taken,” she answers easily. “I favor backseats myself.”
~*~*~
Booth and Perotta talk to Chloe, who can’t believe Pete’s dead. Agent Perotta asks how long ago they broke up, and Chloe tells her that they didn’t break up.
“His teammates think you did,” Booth answers, but Chloe answers that they “had this on-again, off-again thing. Casual, no biggie.”
“So you didn’t mind that he slept with different women?” Perotta asks.
“I wouldn’t have minded if he did, but I happen to know that he didn’t,” Chloe answers coldly.
“Well I happen to know that he did,” Booth answers, getting a warning look from Perotta. “Right…” It’s killing Booth not to be the one interrogating the suspect.
“Who?” Chloe asks Booth, but Agent Perotta answers, “Oh is doesn’t matter does it? Given that your relationship was so uh, casual?”
“You slashed his tires, didn’t you?” Booth asks, unable to help himself from asking.
“Agent Booth,” Agent Perotta warns again, and Chloe answers, “No.”
Perotta tells her that they can prove that she did it. “So here’s the deal. You tell us the truth from now on, and we won’t charge you with vandalism and obstruction of justice. Okay?”
“Let’s try this again,” Booth says, leaning forward. “You slashed—”
“Agent Booth?”
“Yes…” Booth stops himself, leaning aback against the railing behind him.
“Let’s try this again,” Perotta says, using Booth’s exact words. “You slashed his tires, didn’t you?”
Chloe finally admits that she did. But Pete was sleeping with someone else and “that passion can take over sometimes. You know how it is when the guy you give yourself to just runs off with someone else.”
Agent Perotta just nods and asks who Albie is.
“Albie?” Chloe things a second, then remembers that Albie runs a poker game in the back of a Chinese restaurant on I street. It was probably why Pete was broke all the time.
Chloe turns back to Booth. “So who’d you say Pete was sleeping with?”
Agent Perotta interrupts, “I think we’ve got enough information for today Miss Bratton, thank you for cooperation.”
Booth thanks her too, and they leave.
~*~*~
Back at the lab that night, Cam joins Bones, Angela, and Wendell.
“Any luck with the murder weapon?”
“Yes,” Bones answers, looking up from the monitor. “We are certain it was not a screwdriver.”
“Well the blood on the victim’s jersey was all his own,” Cam answers.
Bones suddenly notices that the victim’s ribcage has been moved, and Wendell comes over to have a look. “It has?”
“Yes,” Bones answers, running the camera over the ribcage. “See this vague pattern of bone bruising?”
They determine that the victim was struck repeatedly and not from a hockey stick. Wendell says he’ll take a closer look. “I can’t believe I missed that.” Clearly he feels bad about it, and Cam catches Bones’s eye, trying to motion to her to encourage him. Bones, totally missing the intent of the gesture, tells Wendell, “No, I can’t believe you missed that either.” Angela and Cam sigh internally. Poor Wendell walks off.
Cam leans towards Bones. “I was signaling you to encourage Wendell by saying anyone could have missed that. But…”
“You should have said so,” Bones answers, still looking at the bones. “Booth says I stink at nonverbal communication.”
Angela and Cam exchange a look. Yes, yes she does.
~*~*~
Booth and Perotta make their way through the Chinese restaurant’s kitchen. Booth pulls his gun out.
Perotta: Oh so you’re ready to risk a gun fight with your weapon in the wrong hand.
Booth: I don’t have a wrong hand.
Booth kicks the back door open and they both draw their weapons.
The group of men inside the room all have theirs drawn as well.
Perotta stairs at the guns. “What do you we do now?”
“Okay, FBI,” Booth announces. When nobody drops their guns, he adds, “I’d reach for my badge right now, but you know, I—” he holds up his cast.
Agent Perotta pulls out her badge. “Drop your weapons please.”
“Please?” Booth asks her, whispering, “The FBI does not say please.” To the group of men he says that he doesn’t really care about the illegal gambling. “I just want to talk to a guy named Albie about a guy named Pete Carlson.”
A woman steps through the group of men. “I’m Albie.” Booth lowers his gun.
~*~*~
Sitting at a table in the restaurant, Albie tells Booth and Agent Perotta, “First rule: Don’t kill the people who owe you money. All you get then is trouble and no money.” Perotta asks how much money Pete owed, but Albie remains quiet.
Studying his bowl of noodles, Booth casually says, “Okay, so you got your operation shut down and moved out? Cause I could have my guys here in, about what? Three minutes? Two?” Perotta nods. “To mop that back room up.” He smiles at Albie and takes a sip of his soup, and she finally tells them that “Pete Carlson was not a bad player most of the time. You know, every once in a while…”
“He got brave and lost everything, huh?” Booth asks, and Albie looks at him.
“Gamble a bit yourself do you?”
“I’m reformed.”
Perotta asks when the last time it was that Pete got brave, and Albie tells them it was last month. He paid with a gold bracelet. Albie puts it on the table, stating, "I don't know where Pete got it. But it covered his debt."
“Okay,” she announces. “You gave me time to move my operation, I gave you evidence, we’ll call it square.” Albie starts to get up, then adds to Booth, “You decide to get back into the game, you look me up.”
“Right, yeah.”
Albie walks away, and Perotta asks, “Well, we gonna call this in?”
“No, no point,” Booth answers. “Like the woman said, she’s moved on.”
~*~*~
At the Potomac Ice Rink, Booth, Bones and Perotta step onto the ice in search of signs of a struggle.
“Hodgins confirmed that the traces of rink water in the victim’s esophagus—” Booth slips and Bones turns to make sure he’s okay, then continues, “Came from this rink.”
“How did rink ice get into his throat?” Booth asks, and Bones explains that he was beaten and a sharp instrument was thrust into his eye. There should be blood stains here.
Bones pulls out her ALS wand, and Perotta gives her a skeptical look. “You’re gonna scan the ice with one little wand?” Yes, yes she is. Perotta thinks she should call in an FBI forensics team. “We’ll have the whole place searched.”
“No need,” Booth answers, glancing up at the disco ball above the ice. “All you need is black light right?”
“Yes…” Bones answers, not sure where he’s going with this.
“Alright I got a great idea—” Booth slips again, and adds, “Stay here, it’s very slippery, don’t move.” He walks carefully off the ice.
The lights shut off and the room is flooded in black light.
Bones: Nice.
Perotta: Wow.
Booth: Did it work?
The disco ball glitters over the ice as they all start looking for signs of blood. There are flecks of blood all over the place, but since the victim was stabbed in the eye they’re looking for a pretty significant puddle. Bones fines a big pool of blood and calls Booth over.
Booth takes a look. “Whoa.”
Bones agrees. “This is going to turn out to be the place where Pete Carlson was murdered.”
~*~*~
At the lab, Cam and Hodgins receive the deliveries of all the rink water from the crime scene, including the ice scrapings from inside the Zamboni.
“Hopefully we’ll get enough DNA out of this to confirm the blood was Carlson’s,” Hodgins says, as he searches through the water. “Whoa—” he pulls something from the strainer. “Human tooth.”
“It’s hockey,” Cam reminds. “That Zamboni probably had a hundred teeth in there.”
Hodgins pulls another tooth from the water. “Looks like we found where the Tooth Fairy winters.”
~*~*~
Hodgins joins Wendell in the Bone Room. Wendell is just starting to try and match the teeth to the skull. Hodgins clicks on the screen, telling Wendell that he still hasn’t IDed the nylon polymer found on the victim’s shirt.
Angela joins them, telling them that she “looked at like a thousand photos of those blood patterns found at the rink, and tons from the apartment.”
“Why, what are you looking for?” Hodgins joins her over at another monitor as she clicks it on and shows them a photo of the blood splatter pattern from the rink. “The body was dragged in that direction,” she indicates, and Wendell wants to know what the drops on the opposite side are from.
“What drops?”
“Those drop, right there.”
“They parallel the dragging body,” Hodgins says, seeing them too. “And they aren’t smeared.”
“These parallel drops aren’t from the victim,” Angela says, finally seeing them. “They’re from whoever dragged him across the ice.”
“Well that means we need to look for more than just Pete’s DNA.”
“Too bad we can’t just question the fish,” Angela answers dryly, clicking to another picture of the dead fish in Pete’s home tank.
Wendell frowns at the picture. “What killed those fish?”
“Not eating for three weeks?” Angela tries, but Wendell doesn’t buy it. “If that happened,” he answers, “They’d eat each other.”
“Ohhh…”
“Grab your coat,” Hodgins tells Wendell. “We’re goin’ on a field trip.” To Angela, he adds, “Tell Cam to check the rink samples to find out if there’s a second source of DNA.”
“I’m not really a big fan of this—” Too late, Hodgins and Wendell are gone. “—Barking out order stuff…” Angela finishes to herself. Regardless, she picks up the phone to dial Cam.
~*~*~
At the FBI, Sweets is meeting with Booth.
“Agent Booth, it’s come to the attention of the Deputy Director that you are a viable suspect in a murder case.”
Booth just stares at Sweets, somewhat amused, as he uses a pencil to scratch the inside of his cast. “Right, okay, he wants you to make sure that I’m not viable.”
“That’s correct.”
Booth laughs. “Come on Sweets, you know I didn’t kill anyone, so, you know, put that shrink talk and write out your little form and send it in.” Thinking that’s all there is too it, Booth gets up, but Sweets stops him.
“Yes of course,” he answers, gesturing for Booth to sit back down. “But to do that I need to ask you some questions.”
Booth sighs. “Alright.” He sits back down on the couch. “Shoot.”
“I saw you in that game. You beat another man to the ice…”
“It’s hockey. I was protecting my teammate.”
“You broke your hand on his helmet,” Sweets reminds, and once again, Booth tries to get him to understand that, “It’s hockey, okay?” After a second, he adds, “you never played, did you?”
“Oh I run track, and cross-country, and did some wrestling, and ch—” Sweets stops himself and nods.
Booth chuckles. “Chess!”
“No.”
“Checkers?”
“Didn’t say that.”
“You know what?” Booth asks, amused. “Then you no nothing. It’s about teams, okay? And teamwork. Obviously you don’t know anything about that Dr. Sweets.”
“Mmmhmm,” Sweets answers, leaning forward. “You joined the army, you became a sniper—”
“Mmhmm...”
“You joined the FBI. Do you see the, uh, binding element in those choices?” Sweets asks, and Booth frowns. What is he getting at? “It’s violence,” Sweets answers his own question.
“Or a love of uniform,” Booth answers, still not taking this seriously. “You ever think that?”
“Agent Booth,” Sweets tries, proceeding carefully. “I believe that you are ready to confront the fact that the violence you may have suffered in childhood—”
That hit a nerve. “You know what?”
“—Has followed you into adulthood,” Sweets finishes despite Booth’s sudden change in demeanor.
“Fill out the form,” Booth warns, no smiles now.
Sweets just stares at him, not backing down.
Suddenly there’s a knock at the door, and Sweets calls, “Not now.” Caroline opens the door anyway. “Hiya Sweets.” She lets herself in, saying, “Uh, if you’re about finished here Booth, in accordance to with the warrant you made me get, Pete Carlson’s phone records are here.”
“Ms. Julian,” Sweets answers, irritated. “Actually I’m the one that decides when we’re done here.”
“Of course you are Cherie, no offense intended.” To Booth she adds, “I’ll be delivering the phone records to Agent Perotta. I thought I’d do that in your office.”
“Thanks Cherie,” Booth says, staring at Sweets pointedly as Caroline leaves. “We’re done.”
Booth gets up and Sweets answers, “Well, we are done, but that was just a coincidence.”
Booth stops at the door. “Sweets, I’ve killed but I’ve never murdered before. Look up the difference in your little black book there, okay?” Booth leaves Sweets to sigh again at his lack of progress.
~*~*~
“This is legal, right?” Wendell asks as he and Hodgins let themselves into Pete’s apartment.
“Absolutely.”
“Okay.”
Hodgins walks over to the fish tank to have a look at the dead fish. “None of them look nibbled on. Ah man, they should have gone at each other like a Peruvian soccer team stranded in the Andes.” He pulls out a fish net and plastic bag as Wendell takes a picture, noting, “They all died at the same time.”
Hodgins fishes out the fish and Wendell is confused. “I don’t see what this is gonna tell us.” He snaps another crime scene photo as Hodgins answers, “How they died.”
“No, I mean about the case.”
“Oooo, if Brennan were here she’d smack your face,” Hodgins answers with a grin. “Her philosophy is, we find out the facts about everything, and then see how it fits together.” He holds up the bag of dead fish and waits. Wendell just looks at him confused, and Hodgins answers, “Photo opportunity!”
Oh right. Wendell holds up the camera and Hodgins smiles as he takes the picture.
~*~*~
Agent Perotta joins Booth and Caroline in Booth’s office with Pete’s phone records. According to them, Pete made eight calls to Lour Herrin (the State Cop on the other hockey team that he “exchanged blows with on the night he died”). Caroline tells Perotta to go question the cop, but Agent Perotta things they need to get some leverage on the guy; get a warrant to test his DNA to tie him to the crime scene.
“Here we go,” Booth warns, but it’s too late. Caroline is not happy. She jumps up, heading for the door. "Get a warrant for this Ms. Julian, get a warrant for that.” She turns to face Perotta. “You need grounds for a warrant, Cherie. Don't they teach that at Quantico anymore? What grounds have you got for that warrant? None. Nothing, you just wishin’." She leaves, exasperated.
Booth glances at the picture hockey picture on his wall and gets an idea. “I know how to get some blood out of this Herrin.”
“Legally?” Agent Perotta asks.
“Yeah, of course legally.”
“How?”
“Well, there’s a big game tonight right?” Booth gets up. “And sometimes during a big game, people bleed. Huh?” He grins at his great idea.
Perotta sighs. “I don’t like it.”
“Then you don’t have to show up.”
She leaves with a smile.
~*~*~
At the Potomac Ice Rink, Booth is sawing off his own cast as Wendell comes out dressed in his hockey gear. He spots Booth. “Whoa, what are you doin’ man?”
“What’s it look like I’m doing?” Booth answers, continuing to saw at the cast.
“You think that’s a good idea? You got another couple weeks on that cast.”
“Well considering I can’t play with a cast on, yeah, I think it’s a great idea.” He keeps sawing, then asks, “You clear about the plan?”
Wendell glances at the rink then leans in closer. “Somebody bleeds, I collect the sample, put it in the sample, pass it off to Dr. Brennan.”
Booth tells him that Lou Herrin, #5, is their prime suspect. “I gotta make him bleed.” There’s a loud crack as he finally breaks off the dreaded itchy cast.
~*~*~
Bones and Agent Perotta sit in the bleachers watching the players get ready for the game.
“You’ve worked with Agent Booth for awhile now, right?” Perotta asks.
“Mmmhm.”
“Is he the kind of guy that…uh, you know…is he…flirty?” she finally asks.
“Flirty?” Bones is confused.
“Would you say he twinkles his eyes at all women?”
“Twinkly eyes actually result when pupils dilate very wide,” Bones answers, every the scientific helpful. “Which is an unconscious result of intense interest or sexual attraction.”
“So no, he doesn’t twinkle at everyone?”
“No,” Bones answers simply, turning her attention back to the rink.
“Alright,” Perotta answers, clearly considering this.
The whistle is blown, and they turn their attention back to the game.
Booth and Wendell skate up together.
“Is that the guy?”
“That’s him. Lou Herrin, number five.”
“Wow,” Wendell answers. “Think he even knows how to bleed?”
“Just keep your head up, alright?”
With another whistle, the game begins. Booth does everything he can to draw blood from every player, knocking them down all over the place. Wendell follows, carefully collecting the samples and passing them off to Bones to label. After a while, it seems like #5 is the only one who hasn’t shed a drop of blood.
Agent Perotta takes pictures throughout the game. #5 is getting agitated at Booth, and shoves him aside. “I think I’m finally getting to this guy,” Booth says, and Wendell calls out, “Hope you survive it!”
Booth and Lou Herrin knock back and forth as they make their way down the ice, and finally Booth elbows him hard enough to draw blood. Herrin spits out the blood, then goes after Booth hard. Booth has just enough time to swing around before Herrin slams into hi, knocking him to the ice so hard that Booth’s helmet flies off. He hits the ice hard, knocking him unconscious.
Booth lays flat on the darkened ice by himself. Somebody skates over and peppers his face with a thin spray of ice. Booth comes to and blinks.
“Luc Robitaille?”
The famous hockey play grins down at him. “Seeley Booth.” Booth glances around, totally confused. Is this really happening? “Let’s go,” Luc tells him. “Let’s play.”
Not one to give up this opportunity even if it is a hallucination, Booth gets to his feet, slightly star-struck. “You’re the greatest left-winger of all time.”
“And you’re the best player on your team,” Luc answers. “For what that’s worth.” He slides the puck over to Booth. “Alright, let’s go, come on.”
Booth and Luc start their one-on-one game, but Booth suddenly stops. “Whoa, what a second, I can’t play hockey with you, I have to solve a murder.”
“You know Booth,” Luc answers, skating around to shoot a goal. “It’s not about the blood. It’s the best forensic clue. Forget the blood.”
“Then what?”
“You know what makes a team,” Luc tells him. “Look at the team. It’s about what brings the team together.”
“The team…” Booth thinks about this. “Look at the team…”
“Alright let’s go. One-on-one, let’s see what you got! Come on Booth!”
Booth grins. Okay, maybe there is some time to play. He heads down the ice, and Luc knocks him down. “Okay, I thought I could get by you there,” Booth admits, looking up from the ice.
“You’ll never get by me,” Luc answers with a grin.
“Right.”
“Now listen, Booth,” Luc says, bending down to talk to him. “You’re not your father, okay? You protect the ones you care about on the ice and off the ice, that’s who you are. You’re not your father.” Luc skates off, leaving the words to echo in Booth’s brain. “You’re not your father…you’re not your father…”
“Booth?...Booth?”
Booth comes to to find Bones staring down at him. “Bones? What are you doing on the ice?”
“I get nervous when you fall down and don’t get up,” she answers, and Bones and Wendell help him to his feet.
Lou blots a towel against his bloody mouth, glaring at Booth.
“Don’t worry,” Wendell tells Booth, ignoring Lou. “I got the blood.”
“Good work, Bones,” Booth answers, somewhat groggily.
“I’m Bones,” Bones corrects, and he just stares at his partner. That was one hard hit to the head!
Lou watches them walk off the ice.
~*~*~
At the lab, Angela walks in to find Hodgins blending something reddish in a kitchen blender. She makes a disgusted face. “Smells like fish in here.”
“Yeah, it’s the victim’s goldfish,” he answers, pouring out the fish sludge and adding, “They died of ammonia poisoning.”
“How did that happen?”
“Maybe the victim washed his aquarium with window clearer? I don’t know.” Done pouring the mixture, Hodgins asks, “How are things with you and Roxie?”
Angela is surprised. “Good, good. Taking it slow, you know. Let things unfold in a—are you seeing anybody?”
“I uh, actually went out on a date last night.”
“Oh…I’m glad to hear that.”
“Any little twinge there?” Hodgins asks, looking up from his fish concoction.
“Definitely a little twinge, yeah,” Angela says with a laugh. “But despite the twinge, I’m glad you’re back in the saddle.”
“Well not back in the saddle exactly,” he answers. “It was just a first date. Barely got out of the barn,” he jokes, snapping off his rubber gloves.
Angela laughs, then asks, “You saw the victim’s apartment, right?”
“Yes, yeah, yeah a pigsty.”
“I don’t think that guy cleaned anything,” Angela comments. “Not with ammonia, not with anything.” She leaves, leaving Hodgins to think about this fact.
~**~*~
Sweets walks into Bones’s office to find her helping Booth put ice on his head. “I came as soon as I heard Booth had a brain injury. What part of your head hurts?” he asks, sitting down across from them.
“The part above my shoulders,” Booth answers with a wince.
“The doctor said he has a concussion,” Bones answers. “He shouldn’t fall asleep, otherwise it’s not serious.”
“Tell him about the hallucination,” Booth urges, and when Sweets asks what hallucination, Booth tells him, “Luc Robitaille gave me advice.”
Bones and Sweets exchange a confused look, and Bones asks, “You got advice on a murder case from—”
“What did he say?” Sweets interrupts.
“He said don’t worry about the players blood.”
“Oh,” Sweets answers, getting that psychologist look in his eye. “That’s very interesting…”
“Lucky Luc told me to look in a different direction.”
“That is interesting,” Sweets reiterates.
“Stop saying that. Stop.”
Cam joins them to tell them that the second set of DNA from the ice rink doesn’t belong to Lou Herrin.
“Lucky Luc was right!” Booth answers excitedly, still holding the bag of ice to his head.
“No, all that means is you got your brain scrambled for nothing,” Cam answers.
“Lucky Luc is never wrong,” Booth insists, and Sweets tells him that this hallucination “could be Booth’s subconscious speaking to him in a voice, an image, of someone he idolizes.”
“Like a modern version of a vision quest?” Bones asks, and Booth pulls the ice from his head, thinking out loud. “You know what? Hallucination or not I—” he winces as he stands up “—Lucky Luc, he told me something about myself that…” Booth trails off, and they all look at him as he mutters, “He told me something…”
Booth starts for the door, and Sweets answers, “I’d be very interested in knowing what he said.”
“Lucky for me, you’re never gonna find out,” Booth answers. “Because Bones is gonna drive me home and get me soup.” He slaps the ice back on his head and groans on his way out the door. Bones quickly gets to her feet, handing off the file folder to Cam on her way after her partner.
~*~*~
At Pete Carlson’s apartment, Wendell and Hodgins stare at the cloudy fish tank.
“There has got to be some reason these fish died of ammonia poisoning.”
“Last time I did this I ended up in juvy hall for the weekend,” Wendell answers as Hodgins dunks a gloved hand into the water.
“What?”
“What? Uh, nothing.”
Hodgins digs around in the gravel until he suddenly finds a fistful of buried treasure. “Oh wow.” He pulls up a handful of necklaces and bracelets. “Buried treasure!”
“What do we do now?” Wendell asks, leaning over to have a closer look. Why was Pete hiding jewelry in his fish tank?
~*~*~
At the FBI, Caroline is irritated again. “Haven’t you people ever heard of something called Chain of Evidence?” Agent Parotta tries to cut in, but Caroline just gestures to Hodgins and Wendell, asking, “Why didn’t you go with these two idiots to the victim’s home?”
“Please don’t call my people idiots,” Cam replies, offended.
Hodgins: We’re not idiots.
Wendell: I feel like an idiot.
Cam: You don’t speak right now. Either of you.
Cam defends them, telling Caroline that “my people are often at crime scenes, it’s what we do.”
“No it’s not,” Caroline insists. “You got it in your heads that your crime scene types.” She sighs. “This is Booth’s fault for indulging your fantasy. You are not crime scene types, you are lab rats.”
“No chain of evidence was broken,” Cam explains, telling her that when Hodgins and Wendell found the jewelry, “They immediately called me, I called Booth, and when his head hurt too much to talk to me, I called Agent Perotta.”
“Miss Julian,” Perotta finally gets a chance to speak.
“What?” Caroline asks, looking at her as if she’d forgotten she was in the room.
“A photograph of dead fish led them to this. I think that kind of brilliance worth it.”
Hodgins and Wendell suddenly look at Agent Perotta with a new respect.
“You’ve been taken hostage by the Squints, Agent Perotta,” Caroline answers, none too happy about it. Despite all this, she admits that “it turns out these items were reported destroyed in a fire.”
Hodgins points out that the victim was a fireman, and Wendell agrees that the FBI can look to see if the Firedawgs were the ones who put out that fire. “Stole from the fire and cleaned off with ammonia,” Hodgins adds, putting the pieces together. “Hidden in the aquarium, killed the fish,” Wendell finishes.
“Okay,” Cam answers. “Now you are straying out of your territory.”
“No they got it right,” Caroline answers begrudgingly. Turns out the bracelet they got from the Albie was reported stolen in that same fire.
“My people were right!” Perotta answers with a big smile.
“Your people?” Caroline and Cam both ask at the same time, after which, Hodgins and Wendell simultaneously answer, “We’re Booth’s people.” Caroline gives an approving grunt and Perotta’s smile falters. So much for that respect.
~*~*~
Sitting on the couch in his apartment, Booth uses his laptop to study the Firedawgs website. Something’s been bothering him and he can’t quite put his finger on it. He studies the pictures onscreen, then glances down at the list of Firedawgs name and hockey jersey numbers. He clicks through the website and finds a high school hockey team picture. He picks up the FIredawgs list and lines it up to the Senior high school list. Turns out Ed Fralic, Dave Simms, Alex Pina and Pete Carlson not only play and together now, but they were on the same team in high school. “What brings them together…?”
Booth is deep in thought when Bones lets herself in. “I’m back.” She carries a white bag in with her and finds Booth mumbling, “What brings them together? The team…”
“I got the soup from the place—and yes I told “Momma” that it was for you specially,” Bones tells him, setting the bag on the kitchen table. She takes off her jacket and sits down next to him on the couch, noticing the computer. “What are you doing?”
“It’s all about the team there,” Booth answers, then it suddenly makes sense. “Bones, it’s all about the team there! These four guys, they all played hockey together in high school, only now, they all play together as a team.”
“They’re all fireman?” she asks, looking at the pictures.
“Yeah, they all worked the jewelry store fire.” He gestures to the computer screen, adding, “One of these three guys is the murderer.”
“According to Mr. Lucky?” Bones asks, and Booth winces, holding his head against and telling her, “It’s Lucky Luc. Okay? It is not “Mr. Lucky”, it is Luc Robitaille.”
As Bones suddenly notices Booth’s hockey bag, bag, he carefully continues to explain, “Left. Wing. Great shot, Luc Robitaille, he’s one of the best players of all time—” He can’t get over how she doesn’t know this, and Bones is not paying any attention to what he’s saying.
“What is this?” she asks, holding up a long metal hook.
“It’s a lace puller, why?”
“I think it might be the murder weapon.”
At the FBI, Booth, Bones, and Perotta talk to Alex Pina, Ed Fralic, and Dave Simms. One of them wants a lawyer, and the other insists that they don’t need one because they didn’t do anything wrong.
“What about Pete?” Booth asks, and Perotta adds, “Did he break some kind of fireman’s code or something like that?”
“Yeah somethin’ like that,” one of the men replies dryly, and another decides he’s got nothing to say about any of this without a lawyer. Bones tells them that they know Pete was beaten with a hockey stick, after which a lace puller entered his brain through his eye and killed him.
“How about your dream, Ed?” Booth asks, and Ed looks at him. “You were gonna play for the NHL, right?” Booth asks, setting down a printoff of a newspaper article and reading, “Local being scouted by the NHL.” He pulls out another one, and Ed admits, “I got hurt. Now I sell siding, I play hockey on the weekends.”
“Why you gotta rub his face in the past?” his friend asks, and Booth asks Ed who ruined him. Ed hesitates a moment, glances at his friends, then finally answers, “Pete Carlson…It was Pete.”
So if they all knew about the stolen jewelry, who was there the night Pete was killed? Ed’s friends insist that none of them had anything to do with it, and Bones tells them how much evidence they already have and Booth reminds them that it’s only a matter of time before they figure out which one of them did it.
After another moment, Ed finally confesses. “Yeah, it was me.” His friends are shocked. “I asked to meet Pete on the ice after everybody left,” Ed continues. “I told him to give back the stolen jewelry, and he said to me…he said to me that I was a coward. That I didn’t do anything to him back in the day when he wrecked my life. That I wouldn’t do anything to him now.”
Alex and Dave exchange a look, feeling for their friend.
“But he was wrong,” Ed finishes.
~*~*~
At the Potomac Ice Rink, Bones tells her partner, “I’m not positive this is a good idea,” as she steps onto the ice in skates. “Ah!” She immediately slips, falling to the ice, and Booth rushes over to help, “Oh! I gotcha, I gotcha! Stay up here, okay?” Bones laughs as he leans over to help her up. “It’s alright, here we go, one more.”
Booth pulls her to her feet, telling his partner that “I got to stay up all night, so who better to keep me company than you?”
“You and me skating is saving you from slipping into a coma?” Bones asks as he holds onto her and they start to skate.
“Ah well—” She slips again, and he catches her. “Easy Bones, now I’m gonna go down.”
She laughs, insisting that, “I have a lot of natural athletic ability!”
“Oh yeah, natural, I can, I can see that,” Booth teases, still holding her arm to keep her up. “Real smooth and natural.” He lets her go and turns to face her, easily skating backwards in front of her. “That’s it. Alright.” He swings around again, taking her hand, and this time he slips. Bones grips his hand, scared that she might fall again, but Booth steadies himself.
“That Agent Perotta, she really enjoyed working with us,” Bones says, still hanging onto his index finger.
“Yeah.”
“But um…” Bones hesitates a second, then admits, “You’re the only FBI Agent I want to work with.”
Booth studies her a moment, smiling, then lets her hand go to skate backwards in front of her again, as Bones asks, “Will you tell me what the Lucky Luciano told you?”
“He’s not an Italian opera singer! Bones, why do you always say that wrong? You do it on purpose don’t you?”
“I would like to know what he said to you,” Bones argues, taking his hand again.
“He said that I’m not like—my old man,” Booth answers as they continue to skate around the rink. “He said I’m made of better stuff.”
“Well,” Bones says, taking his arm. “I don’t know your old man, your father? But I think you’re made of very very good stuff.”
Booth is touched. “Hey, you know what?” He swings around to face her again. “Forget about Agent Perotta, alright? Nothing’s gonna change between me and you.”
“Well entropy is a natural force—“ Bones begins to rationalize as Booth skates up behind her. “—That pulls everything apart at a subatomic level—” He begins to push her faster and she begins to talk faster, “—Everything changes!”
“Not if we stay close,” Booth answers with a laugh, hanging onto her as she lets out a scared “Ahh!” He laughs again and takes her hand, and she laughs, warning, “You’re gonna make me fall!”
“I’m never gonna make you fall, I’m always here!”
“That was kind of fun actually.”
They head for the next corner, and Booth warns, “Okay, here comes the big spin!”
“Uh-oh—”
He spins her around and she laughs. Clearly they’re both enjoying the nighttime skating.
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Awww! That ending totally made up for all the Agent Perotta time.
And David, all that hockey playing pretty impressive there! Love the Hodgins and fish photo op, and Wendell is not my favorite intern of the week.| 57 |
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