Bones: Yanks in the UK (Part 1)
September 5th 2008 02:33
Bones is back with a great 2-hour season premiere set in London, and there are many things I loved about this two-parter…and one very big thing that I did not…Keep reading for the recap of the first hour, or skip down below for my initial reactions...two great promopics and a very funny video treat...
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Oxford University,
England
Bones is finishing off her lecture, asking her host Dr. Ian Wexler if she could diverge a second. Dr. Wexler encourages her to continue, and she tells the room full of students that her partner gave a talk at Scotland Yard last night. She asks Booth to please stand up.
Except that Booth is asleep, so he can’t hear her.
“Hey Booth!” she shouts in front of the whole room.
He wakes up. “Yeah, I’m here.”
He stands up and waves as Bones explains that he is the intuitive humanist whereas she is the logical empiricist. Although recently she has learned that pure logic can be destructive…She starts to tell them about Zack, “My own assistant, the most brilliant young man I’ve ever met—”
“Ended up a sidekick to a cannibalistic serial killer,” Booth finishes for her.
Bones reminds him that she hasn’t invited him to join her so he can take his seat. Scattered laughed floats through the room and Booth sits down as Bones tells them all that what she’s learned from Booth is, “That we scientists must arm ourselves with something other than just pure logic.”
“Quality which deflects us from an irrational admiration from the rational,” Ian adds.
“Exactly.” Bones gives him an admiring look herself, which Booth picks up on and squints.
~*~*~
Outside, Booth asks Bones, “How old is that guy?”
She tells him that Ian is a year younger than her and almost as brilliant. What did he think of her speech?
“It got better towards the end.”
“You mean after you interrupted me?”
Bones starts to walk off and Booth follows her.
“I’m sorry, look it wasn’t that I was bored, mostly it was just that I was tired, okay?” They continue to walk and talk and Booth says, “The boobies took me out for a beer last night—”
“Bobbies, they’re called “Bobbies”.” Bones corrects.
Booth is pretty sure that some of those guys should be called “boobies” instead. Suddenly Ian calls out to Bones, running up through the courtyard to talk to her. He congratulates her on her talk, adding, “Who knew such a shapeless robe could be so evocative—of academia I mean of course.”
Oh of course. Booth smirks and stands by as Ian pulls Bones aside. She tells him that over the last few days she’s been warned many times about Ian Wexler.
“Warned?” He pretends not to know what she’s talking about as his cell phone starts to ring. “Was is something along the lines of ‘watch out for Ian Wexler he’s a young genius on the rise?”
Bones can’t help but smile. “How can you flirt with me while ignoring your phone?”
He tells her that he’s a man of perspective. Plus he finds that if he ignores it the person usually will hang up and it’ll stop ringing. In any case, he pulls out his phone and answers it.
“Dr. Ian Wexler…Murder? What kind of Murder? Is it a boring one or is it a violent one?” He covers the mouthpiece. “Is your interest peeked?”
Is he serious? Ian passes over the phone, asking them to please just state who and why. Scotland Yard. Homicide. Well is she in?
“I’m keen as ketchup,” Bones tries.
“Mustard. Keen as mustard,” Ian corrects. (Seems Bones can’t even get it right in England.
) “Excellent effort at the colloquialism though, very impressive.” Ian glances at Booth. “Does your cowboy want to tag along.”
“Oh please don’t call him that.”
“He’d find it insulting.”
“No,” Bones explains. “He’d love it.”
Booth just grins.
~*~*~
Down at the crime scene, Inspector Kate Prichard watches workers pull a vehicle from the river. She catches a glance of the dead body’s dirty skull still sitting behind the wheel. The honk of a car horn draws her attention, and she walks over to Ian, Bones, and Booth.
Ian starts to introduce his visitors, but Inspector Prichard interrupts, “Ah Agent Booth!”
“Yes.” He shakes her hand, grinning.
“I very much enjoyed your presentation last night.” She turns to Ian. “He’s very active. Sound effects, visual aids, lots of props.” She turns back to Booth and Bones and adds, “Although he did complain at great lengths of having to check his gun with us.”
“Well you know, without my gun I’m practically naked. Isn’t that right Bones?”
Yes that’s right.
Ian takes this opportunity to introduce Bones to Prichard, explaining that Dr. Brennan “is exactly like me.”
Prichard begins to rattle off a long line of words that apparently describe them both them as they head through the crime scene, “Charming, tenacious, salacious, sophomoric, euphoric, noble, ignoble, fatuous, horrid, morbid, torpid, and tedious?”
Ian assures her that flattery will get her nowhere. She just laughs as he asks, “So you found Portia Frampton?”
She teases that the way it usually works is that she drags the bodies out and he identifies them with his extraordinary talents.
Booth nudges his partner. “Hey Bones, they’re like the English version of me and you!”
Ian looks at the dead body. “But you think it might be here?”
Prichard pulls out a tabloid, headlines reading, “HEIRESS LOSES HER SHIRT”. Next to it is a censored picture of a blond girl, who Prichard explains Portia Frampton is an American. As is her father. “Do you know him?” she asks Booth and Bones.
“Not all Americans know each other Kate, there are quite a lot of them,” Ian answers as Inspector Prichard continues to explain that her father wants to build a skyscraper over what might be a Bronze Age treasure trove. Or maybe just a rubbish tip.
“They aren’t mutually exclusive,” Bones says stepping forward to get a look at the body.
“Exactly…”
They both laugh as Prichard continues to talk about the crime scene and Booth listens. Bones and Ian have already lost themselves to the body. He asks her what she thinks and she IDs the body as female, late teens, early twenties.
“Penetrating trauma to the peridal bone,” Ian addes.
Bones turns around and calls out, “Someone hit her over the head with a sharp object.”
“You have to do that as well?” Ian asks her. “Translate for him?”
Booth turns to Prichard. “Do you have to deal with that too?”
Prichard gives him an “Unfortunately” look, then asks, “Is it murder?”
Booth Ian and Bones say, “Yes” at the same time.
Prichard tells Booth that Portia’s father will no doubt demand FBI involvement since they’re American. But of course he wouldn’t have any jurisdiction aside from what she grants him out of courtesy.
“Well that whole ‘no jurisdiction’ thing doesn’t really fly in the FBI,” Booth says with a smile.
“Just tell him he can have a gun,” Bones offers.
“But he can’t!”
“Well as they say in America,” Booth says, starting to leave. “Hasta la vista baby.”
Alright, alright. Prichard can’t have him leaving, she needs his help, so she tells him that she’ll do her best to find him a gun.
“In that case,” Booth says, excusing himself to stand next to his partner. “Bones and I are the best crime-solving team in America.”
“But we’re in England…” Bones mutters. Yeah he knows.
Ian steps up next to his partner. “Let’s all just try and pull together, shall we? One nice happy transnational unit of inquiry?”
Okay then. Bones tells them they’re going to need to have the remains, silt samples, and any parts of the vehicle they might need transported back to the Jeffersonian. Booth is obviously enjoying this.
Prichard, maybe not so much. She turns to her partner. “Well how do you feel about that Dr. Wexler?”
“Oh I’m looking forward to completely surrendering myself to Dr. Brennan.”
“You heard him,” Booth quickly says, gesturing with his hand. “Back to the Jeffersonian, all of it. Pull in the overhead.”
~*~*~
*Opening sequence note: Zack is gone.
But Sweets has made it in! 
*
Back in the US, The Squints are getting all the evidence Bones sent. Zack has been replaced by another of Brennan’s grad students, Clark. The crate is opened and everyone takes their respective presents.
Hodgins: Check it out, British slime. So much more proper than American slime.
Angela takes some photos and a piece of paper in an evidence bag to her office. As she’s studying a photo of the victim’s skull…
“Angela?”
She turns around to find…her husband, Grayson!
Totally surprised, Angela runs over, jumps in his arms and gives him a kiss. Then warns him that, “That is the last bit of sugar you’ll ever get from me. I want my divorce.”
Grayson just laughs.
~*~*~
Back in London, Ian, Prichard, Booth, and Bones have met up again to discuss the case. As Ian reads over the case file, Booth can’t get over his terrible breakfast.
Booth: You won’t believe what my hotel gave me for breakfast. It was like this brown goo, and some kind of meat—I think it was a sausage—about the size of my finger.
Bones: I had an entire buffet.
Prichard and Ian look on amused.
Booth: You’re staying at the Duke of something, I’m staying at the beefeater hotel, motel.
Prichard: You ate at a beefeater? That’s brave.
Booth: Brave is right, this is the weakest coffee I’ve ever had.
Bones: Booth? That’s tea.
Booth tosses the contents of his cup into the river as Prichard explains that the victim was last seen leaving her 21st birthday. Booth thinks it’s quite a coincidence that Dr. Wexler is working for the victim’s father…Ian assures him that he’ll check his diary to see if he killed him.
Prichard continues that the girl’s body showed up around 2 AM, but nobody reported her missing until the following afternoon.
Booth: *to Bones* The question is, why?
Ian: *without looking up* She was probably reported missing because nobody could find her.
Prichard: Ian…
Ian: And I suspect the reason why nobody could find her was because Portia was in a car on the bottom of the River Thames. Just a theory of mine.
Booth is not amused. “It’s a great theory, could you hold a minute for one sec?” He hands over his empty cup and straightens his suit. “Me and, uh, Dr. Brennan will go talk to the family.”
Inspector Prichard is surprised. “Together?”
Booth and Bones: That’s what we do.
Ian: You know Inspector that’s extraordinary.
Prichard: Sweet.
~*~*~
Back in the lab Clark has figured out that the victim was struck from behind but he doesn’t know the murder weapon yet. He and Cam are looking at the skull when Angela comes in and introduces her, uh, Husband…soon to be ex-husband. She tells them that she knows Grayson is lovely (Cam’s reaction? A surprised and enviable, “Yes he is…” Clark’s? “He’s a big dude!”), but she doesn’t “want everybody gawking at him like he’s some kind of god.”
Cam is doing just that as she answers, “But he is some kind of god. The best kind.”
Angela: Cam, a little help here.
Cam: Yeah.
Sweets suddenly arrives, takes one look at Grayson and can’t stop laughing. “Poor Hodgins. Wow.” Still laughing. “Look at the guy! He’s just—hahahaha, look at him! Hehe I’m sorry…heh…hehe…”
~*~*~
Angela finds Hodgins and introduces him to Grayson. Hodgins gets up to shake his hand, telling him, “Please tell me you’re here to sign the divorce papers.” Unfortunately Grayson can’t do that because, well, he’s still in love with Angela. Hodgins understands, but pleasantly reminds the man that Angela is in love with him now. Angela agrees.
Grayson: Angela do you remember the night we met?
Angela: Vaguely…
Grayson: Ah the waves were phosphorescent, like the world was upside-down and we were swimming naked through the Milky Way.
Hodgins: Bioluminescent phytoplankton. Nothing mystic.
Grayson glances at Hodgins, then continues to talk about the night they met, who they talked about how the universe talks to them, then when their lips met…He stops himself, apologizing. Although irritated, Hodgins tells him, “No worries, our lips meet all the time.”
Angela tells him how bells started ringing when she and Grayson kissed. Although it was the shark festival of bells, so where they supposed to expect? A 21-gun salute?
Grayson grins and leaves. He needs time before he signs the papers.
Hodgins just laughs and Angela warns him to just wait until one of his ex-girlfriends visits.
They go back to work.
~*~*~
Back in England, Booth, Bones, and Inspector Prichard are talking to the victim’s father. Booth is going to need a list of his enemies. Mr. Frampton insists that he doesn’t have any enemies, but Bones pulls out the tabloid. Both he and his fiancé, Heather, are appalled.
Booth asks Heather how close she was to Portia, and she says that the girl was like a younger sister to her. They talked about everything, including Harry, as in Lord Harry. The Duke wanted to keep Harry and Portia’s relationship a secret. At this point, Bones leans over to explain to Booth that the Duke would be Harry’s father. Yeah he’s got it.
Mr. Frampton tells them all that a murder’s a murder no matter how close he is to the throne. He hugs Heather and asks Booth and Bones to please help him find who killed his daughter.
~*~*~
In the streets of London, Booth is trying to unsuccessfully maneuver his “toy car” as Bones asks him why he ordered this one. Apparently the rental place got it mixed up, he ordered a James Bond car. Inspector Prichard tells them it happens all the time (it’s that American accent!). She reminds him that they drive on the left there as cars honk and Booth swerves to the correct side of the road.
Bones: The driving here requires a different skill set. I can take the wheel if you like, I’m an excellent driver.
*beep beep* Booth swerves again.
Booth: Thank you Rain Man, no. I’m fine. Tell you what, back home? We’d drag the whole Royal Family in to interrogation. Separately. Let ‘em stew, catch ‘em in a lie.
Prichard: Well we can do that if you like. I’d give them time to close up. Uh, do stay to the left here, please!
Booth glances around as more people honk.
Bones: Close up?
Tighten ranks. She explains that nothing is as impenetrable as the aristocracy trying to keep out outsiders, and says she’s rather looking forward to two American’s “bearding the lion in his den”.
Booth comes to a stoplight, and starts to go, but Prichard stops him. “Oh, the light is red.”
Booth: It’s alright, I’m turning right.
Bones: No, no, no, turning right on a red here is the equivalent of turning LEFT into the wrong lane on a red at home.
Booth: That makes no sense—
Booth turns the wheel and goes anyway as Prichard yells at him. “The point is it’s against the law to turn on a red—“ Bus! AHHH! They’re all shouting or screaming. “Brake! BRAKE!”
*honk honk! Beep! Beeep!*
Prichard: BRAKE!
Bones screams and Booth slams on the brakes, causing a traffic jam.
Bones: *still hanging onto the roof* Okay, I think we should wait here until the traffic thins out.
Booth flings open the door and stomps out in frustration. “AHHH!!! I HATE LONDON! I HATE ENGLAND! I’M GLAD WE HAD A REVOLUTION!!!” He pounds out his frustration on the top of the car as Bones’s phone rings.
Booth can still be heard grunting and growling in the background (“And the weather! It’s just clouds and…”) as Cam tells her that the acid composition in the victims cervical fluid caught her attention so she ran some more tests. Portia was pregnant. Bones asks her how far along, but they’re both interrupted as Booth shouts, “AND WHAT’S SO HARD ABOUT MAKING A BLACK COFFEEEEEEEE!!!!!” He shakes his hands in the air to emphasize.
Cam stares at the phone in alarm but tells Bones, “About two months.”
Bones thanks her and hangs up as Booth takes a deep breath and gets back into the car.
Booth: Okay, I feel much better now, what’d I miss?
They tell him.
~*~*~
As they drive up to the palace (as Bones corrects when Booth calls it a “castle”). Booth is now in the backseat.
Inspector Prichard and Bones step out and Booth calls out, “Bones, a little help getting’ out here?” She leans down to help him with the seat and Booth grunts and groans as he pulls himself out of the car. “Geez, getting out of this thing is like being born.”
*Author’s note: What happened to the hilarious clip from the promo? I believe the rest of the line when something like, “I need a good spanking,” after which, Bones turns and hits him. LoL)*
They all walk up to the door of the castle, and an elderly man steps out. Booth asks if that’s the Duke, but Prichard says he’s the gentleman’s gentleman. Bones explains, “The Butler.”
The Butler greets them and when Booth pulls out his badge when the Inspector pulls out hers, the Butler takes one look at Booth and tells him he might as well put that one away because it’s worthless.
Booth just smirks at him. “And yet here I am.”
The Butler heads inside and Booth asks Inspector Prichard if she minds waiting outside. Bones doesn’t get it. Prichard explains that Booth wants the aristocrats upside-down.
Bones: He’ll annoy them, you mean.
Prichard: Let’s just say The Duke and the Duchess won’t be used to your approach.
She lets Booth in on a hint: “When they start commenting on you two each other, you’ve got them on the run.”
Good to know. Booth heads inside.
~*~*~
Back in the lab, Angela tells Cam that the backseats of the SUV were folded down, which made her think that the victim was transporting something worth stealing. Hodgins ascertained that it was a motorcycle, or more likely a scooter. They all talk through a scenario in which the murderer kills, drives the car to the river, dumps the body in, then drives away on his scooter.
Nice work team!
~*~*~
Back in London, the butler shows Booth and Bones through the elaborately decorated room. Booth still can’t get over that The Butler is a real butler.
Booth: A real butler would offer to take my hat.
Butler: A real gentleman would be wearing one.
Booth is sidetracked by a suit of armor, and reaches out, but the butler warns him, “Please don’t touch that Agent Booth.” Bones identifies it as late 1490s or early 1500s, German design. As the butler talks about how the Duke’s family fought for King Henry VIII in France, Booth lets out a scoff, pointing to the cup on the suit of armor.
Booth: Look at the size of this, that’s one large cup. Probably to scare the sissy French…
Bones explains that Henry VIII started the trend of large cod pieces because he had syphilis. The Butler quickly tells them “His Grace refers the intimidate the enemy version if the topic arrives.” He tells them that Her Ladyship and Lord Henry will meet them.
~*~*~
Lord Henry tells them that he knew something was wrong when he didn’t hear from Portia in two weeks. But just because he kept their relationship a secret didn’t mean he didn’t love her. Booth points out that “from where we come, that’s exactly what it means.”
The Duke asks if they’re sure “This American” has the right to be asking these questions and Booth assures him that if they call Scotland Yard the answer will always be yes. He takes a seat without being offered one.
So did Portia ever come to visit this palace? (The Duke: “House.”) Nope. Booth doesn’t understand why, but Bones talks to him again about the class system in England still exists at the highest levels of society. She turns to ask how long Portia and Henry’s sexual relationship had been going on, and Henry quickly defends, “I didn’t say I was sleeping with her.”
“Of course you were sleeping with her,” a voice calls from the doorway, and Henry’s grandmother is wheeled into the room in a wheelchair. The feisty older woman points out that Portia probably enjoyed it as well. Booth tries not to laugh as she asks if her son has offered their guests any refreshments. He grumbles that he wasn’t about to give them any reason to stay longer…
She asks for tea please, then tells Booth and Bones that Harry kept his relationship with Portia secret “Because her father is a rapacious crook who uses intimidation and bribery to get what he wants.”
So it had nothing to do with the tabloid (which Bones pulls out of her purse). The English family is appalled. Henry’s mother tells Bones to “put that rag away” as Henry says that he was there that night.
Booth: So you saw the photographer.
Henry: Of course not, I would have thrashed him.
Booth: *laughs, to Bones* The Lord was gonna go all medieval.
The butler brings out the tea as Henry says that was the last time he saw Portita. Booth pulls out the cell phone records that say otherwise. Henry insists that it was a very private conversation, and Bones asks if they were talking about the pregnancy. The whole family is shocked. Booth asks Henry if he’s sure he was the father, and Henry starts forth, only stopped by his father’s warning.
“Look at that,” Booth grins again, lifting his tea cup. “I’m being intimidated by royalty.”
If he must know, Henry tells him that he and Portia broke up that day.
“Ah, there you go. Motive for murder no matter what country we’re in.” Booth takes a sip of his tea. “Mmmm, what is this?”
Henry’s grandmother tells him that it’s basically the upper-class version of “a cup of Joe”. Booth likes it!
~*~*~
Oxford University
Everyone crowds around the computer as Angela tells them that she’s been going over the tabloid photos and they look like they’ve been doctored.
Booth looks around their very medieval-looking, dark room and asks, “What is this place on the weekend, a dungeon?”
Angela continues to explain that the reflection of light in Portia’s eyes makes it look like the photographer was behind a piece of glass. And...do they see that? Ian, Inspector Prichard and Bones don’ts.
Angela starts to enhance the image. It’s a reflection of a house. They still don’t get it.
Booth: Someone took the picture from inside the house.
Angela: Right. With an 80mm lens.
She quickly tells Bones that her ex is there with the divorce papers, so she’ll fill her in when she gets back. Ian leans down to tell Bones that he loves the mix of personal and professional “you people” seem to manage…Bones is too busy thinking that Harry could have taking the photograph to pay him much attention.
Yes, that’s true, Inspector Prichard agrees, except that Harry had no motive to take them. They’re most likely looking for a disgruntled servant who’s looking to cash in.
~*~*~
Hodgins enters the diner to find Grayson already eating. Grayson apologizes, but Hodgins assures him he’s not there for food, he’s there to get him to sign the papers. Grayson asks if he would do it if he was in his place. Hodgins tells him he’s not in his place, and as great as Grayson obviously is, Hodgins believes he’s the best for Angela, and he loves her more than him.
Grayson: You cannot possibly know that.
Hodgins: And yet, I do.
Grayson decides they are at an impasse and goes back to eating.
Later when goes outside, Hodgins is there waiting.
Grayson: You have no sense of dignity.
Hodgins: Yeah, I’d give up my life for Angela, so *shrugs* what’s a little dignity?
Grayson: She kissed me.
Hodgins: On the cheek or…
Suddenly Angela and Sweets round the corner.
Angela: What’s going on?
Sweets: Oh man.
Hodgins: He says you kissed him.
Angela: I did
Sweets: Whoa.
Angela: It was a goodbye kiss.
Grayson: There’s nothing you can do. You must accept—
BAM! Hodgins punches him.
Angela: Hodgins!
Sweets shrugs off his coat. “Here, can you take this please.” He hurriedly hands it off to Angela, takes one step and trips, falling flat on his face.
Hodgins takes another swing, and Grayson easily grabs him and throws him into the back of a leaving garbage truck. Angela is not amused by either of them, and tosses Sweets’s jacket on top of him as she walks off.
~*~*~
William Curry & Partners: Chambers of Law
Booth and Bones tell Heather that the help told Inspector Prichard that she was in the room where the paparazzo took the picture. Heather breaks down and tells them that she didn’t kill Portia, she just wanted Roger to regard his daughter as a sexually mature adult with her own agenda instead of an innocent child!
Roger shows up, apologizing for his lateness, but court when long. The judge follows him inside, taking off his wig, which Booth can’t stop looking at.
Roger: Portia I trust you’ve said nothing.
Booth: Too late.
Roger: Too late why?
Bones: Your girlfriend? Sent the naked picture of your daughter to the tabloid so you’d stop thinking that she was perfect and finally get married.
Judge: What Americans lack in subtlety they make up with clarity.
Heather apologizes, but Roger can’t believe she’s done this. She begs him to forgive her but he storms out. She follows, calling after him.
Judge: I trust this interview is over.
Booth: *still squinting at the English wig* I just have one more question, who the hell would want to wear this?
The judge just lifts his eyebrows in surprise.
~*~*~
Booth and Inspector Prichard are enjoying a beer out down by the river, where she tells him that it’s nice to see him finally relaxing in London. He tells her he’d like to see the bridge open, and when she asks why, he says, “Luck.”
She answers that he’d have to be ridiculously lucky to see that happen. That was exactly his point.
Prichard pushes a small wooden box across the table, telling Booth that he did get a little lucky today. Booth opens it to find a Walter PPK. Not only is it a gun, but it’s a James Bond gun!
Booth: Booth. Seeley Booth.
Prichard: No, that’s terrible.*laughs*
Booth: Thanks Prich.
She reminds him to please remember that if he does use it, she’s the one they’ll hang. Booth assures her he’s a good shot.
His phone rings. “It’s the American Squints. You’ll love these people.” He answers it and Angela tells him that the paper they sent was a letter to Portia from her dead mother. Dated this year.
So Portia’s mother is still alive?
~*~*~
Down at Ian’s archeological dig, Bones and Dr. Wexler are having a conference with Clark via computer. A few of his grad students eagerly offer advice about his findings and Ian tells them to run along and find some Bronze Age bones. Bones tells Clark to have Cam do histology and shuts her computer.
Bones: So what now?
Ian: Well I thought quick drink, back to yours for some sex, then out for a late supper.
Bones: *surprised laugh* I’m inclined to accept.
Ian: I’m ever so pleased.
Bones: But Booth says I shouldn’t trust you.
Ian: And why is that?
Bones: He says you like to wrack ‘em up.
Ian: Wrack ‘em up, how vulgar.
Bones: Booth is very good at reading people.
Ian: Hmm, well in that case, how about we start with the supper and then let the chips fall where they may?
Bones: That would be an acceptable compromise.
They head out.
~*~*~
Back at the Jeffersonian, Hodgins shows Cam some mother of pearl he found on the skull. By the way, has she talked to Angela today?
Cam: Yes.
She automatically goes back to the case, but Hogins asks, “How mad is she?”
“Mad, mad mad.”
“I thought women secretly liked it when we fought over them.”
““Women” is an unacceptable generalization.”
Poor Hodgins.
~*~*~
Oh no, Booth’s driving again. Or rather, trying to park his hated vehicle.
Bones: You should look over your other shoulder.
Booth: Bones, I’ve been driving since I was twelve.
Bones: Would it make you less agitated if I told you that I didn’t sleep with Dr. Wexler last night?
Booth: Okay look, I’m not agitated, I’m agitated because I’m driving this—little car, that’s all. *he continues to try and park unsuccessfully* Dr. Wexler is just--*lets out a frustrated breath* I’m not agitated because of you and Dr. Wexler, Wexler’s just another guy lookin’ for a one night stand that’s all.
Bones: So?
Booth: So?! You’ve got to take it seriously.
He continues to fight with the car.
Bones: Seriously? You mean you never laugh during sex? Because I do.
He gives her a ‘are-we-seriously-having-this -conversation’ look and starts to pull out into traffic just as a truck is headed for them.
Bones: Whoa, do you see that lorry?
*Beep beep!*
Booth: I see that lorry, it’s a truck, okay? We’re American and that is a truck!
He backs up and lets out a sigh.
Booth: I laugh during sex, it’s just—it’s—it’s not that kind of serious. *struggles with the wheel*
Bones: Well I think Dr. Wexler is serious about having sex with me. He’s very interested.”
Booth lets out a long sigh and continues to fight to fit the car into the parking spot as he says, “Okay news bulletin for ya Bones, there’s not a guy in this country who wouldn’t want to have sex with you, but they probably have gay men—whoa whoa easyyyy…”
He moves the car around to more horns honking and a *thump* as Bones asks, “Are you being nice about me, or awful about British men?”
Booth finally stops with the car a second to look at her. “Wexler is not special. You are.”
Bones’s phone rings and she answers it as Booth checks out his parking job.
Cam: Am I interrupting anything?
Bones: I, uh I’m just helping booth drive.
Cam: Oooh, Booth shouldn’t be behind the wheel, he isn’t adaptable.
Booth: I’m Mr. Adaptable, okay? The mirror is a size of a thumbnail!
Bones: Well what do you expect when you rent a car the size of your thumb?
Cam: I don’t think there’s enough fetal tissue to get a DNA reading but—
Booth: Cam can we just be quiet until we get into the flow of traffic here?
He starts to pull out of the parking space yet again and squeals to a halt. Angry drivers shout at him.
Bones: You think I’m special?
Booth: Of course I think that you’re special, yes!
Cam overhears their conversation and starts to laugh.
Bones: *through the line* Thank you, I will take your romantic advice under advisement.
*cut back to the car*
Bones: Now you’re too far to the left.
Booth: OOOOOOH! *goes in reverse*
Bones: You’re gonna hit the—
BAM!
…
Booth: We’re good.
Bones: Yeah unless we get a flat tire.
Booth: No we’re good.
Cam: If I could speak again? I had better luck with the tumor.
She tells them that their victim suffered from VHL disease just as the tire blows out. The car slumps to the side.
Bones: We got a flat tire.
Booth: How did that happen?
Bones tells Cam that there was no evidence of VHL in either the mother’s medical records or the autopsy. But since it’s hereditary it must be the father. Booth is confused, Roger worked for the NHL? No, he may have VHL disease. If not? Well, then he’s not Portia’s biological father.
Oh joy. As if they didn’t already have enough problems.
Booth and Bones look at each other as their car horn starts to blare in a long annoying, Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeep…
Booth: Great. That’s just great. I HATE THIS CAR!!
~*~*~
Later Booth, Bones, and Inspector Prichard confront Roger about his possibly undead wife. The Butler admits that the letter Portia had was not a fake, he was the one Roger’s wife gave it to to give to Portia on her 21st birthday. When she found out that she was dying, obviously she wrote letters to her daughter for important occasions. When Roger tells his butler he should have told him, the butler reminds him that he’s not the only one who hired him for his discretion.
Bones asks Roger about his health. He’s healthy as an ox, even though he doesn’t get why that’s important. Booth tells him that Portia was not his biological daughter.
Inspector Prichard decides that maybe she should continue the interview from this point on.
~*~*~
Back at the Jeffersonian, Sweets comes in to talk to Angela.
Angela: Oh here we go.
Sweets: Angela, men are idiots. Seriously.
Angela: Just to be clear, are you a man or a boy for the purposes of this conversation?
Sweets laughs, then tells her a story about when he was ten and the kids next door had a Turtle Wagon (as in the party wagon toy for The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) that he really wanted. He wanted it so badly in fact, that he climbed a fungus-infected tree to get over the fence to get it. Well, the tree broke and he ended up in the hospital.
Sweets: I’m in the hospital with a broken arm, concussion, and the kids with the party wagon comes in. I confess everything. You know what he says? ‘I would have given it to you.”
Angela: Ah. He had a little gay crush on you.
Sweets’s expression changes dramatically as he thinks about this. “He did?”
“Mmnm-hmm.”
“Oh man, that explains a lot.”
But she’s guessing that he had a different point to the story. Like that she was the party wagon? No, Sweets, clarifies, “You’re the gay neighbor boy. Your love is the party wagon. Grayson is the tree. I am Hodgins. Think about that.”
Angela: Which brings us back to the point that all men are idiots.
Sweets grins. “See how I worked that?” Angela just laughs as he adds, “It’s because I’m so good.”
~*~*~
Hodgins tells Cam that he found crushed coral in the tires, which although it’s from Australia, is used for private roadways in England. Very old ones as it’s been illegal to harvest this stuff for years. He also found evidence of an antique rose bush near where the car drove.
Angela shows up.
Hodgins: Hey, Angela…
They walk off, leaving Cam to mumble that she’ll keep working and…”Security cameras people, the building’s filled with…security, cameras…”
~*~*~
Outside, Angela and Hodgins take a walk, where she explains that no one gets her heart because it’s hers. Except that she’s giving it to him. Hodgins decides that that is so flaky and New Age and wonderful.
They begin to kiss just as Grayson walks out of an antique store. He spots them, and takes an angry step forward. Suddenly an entire group of costumed bikers round the corner, happily calling out and chiming their bike bells. Grayson just laughs. “Okay, okay, the universe speaks. I hear it.”
He watches Angela and Hodgins continue to kiss on the street, then disappears before they can spot him.
~*~*~
Back in London, Cam tells Bones about the crushed coral and rose bushes as Booth tries to get over the fact that a tow truck had to come and lift the car up onto the truck and take it in instead of just changing the flat tire right there on the street.
“If there was a spare, I’d fix it!”
“You probably cracked an axle or something,” Bones argues as she thanks Cam and hangs up.
As Booth continues to complain about how England is just not good for his personal dignity, how now he’s going to have to call Prichard and ask for a ride, Bones is busy smelling the stuff she’s found in the tire treads.
Booth turns around and spots her and warns her not to smell that because she doesn’t know where that’s been! Yes she does.
Bones IDs the crushed coral and has him smell it. Does that smell like roses to him? Booth sniffs. “Where did we pick up crushed coral?”
Answer? The private road and driveway at dear old Lord Henry’s house. But they’d said Portia never visited…Looks like the royals are lying.
~*~*~
Ian, Prichard, Booth, and Bones reconvene at the Duke’s house, where Ian points out the rosebushes and scooter and asks if they really think the Duke could have been Portia’s biological father. Bones explains that both he and his mother show evidence of VHL disease.
Booth asks what’s taking their backup so long, and Prichard tells him that she didn’t call for backup.
“Well, great. In that case…” Booth pulls out his gun from an ankle holster.
“I want a gun!” Bones is quick to say. “I’m a very good shot and I’ve killed before, it didn’t bother me as much as I thought.”
“Well it bothered you a little,” Booth corrects.
“Well yes, but not as much as I thought.”
Ian decides if there’s going to be gunplay he’s going to wait in the car. Inspector Prichard assures him that that won’t be necessary because they have the letter from Portia’s mother.
Bones: We don’t know what it says.
Booth: Ah, but they don’t know that.
Prichard nods.
Booth: Good one Prich.
Ian: What’d you just call her?
Prichard: Prich, Ian, he called me Prich short for Prichard.
Ian: Oh.
Prichard: Will you please put that weapon away?
Booth: Fine, it just feels wrong.
~*~*~
Inside, Booth takes the lead as they confront the family about the letter from Portia’s mother. Booth tells them that he’s going to have Bones read the letter out loud. Bones gives him a panic look. What? Booth nods for her to start “reading” and Bones begins, “My dearest daughter Portia…”
There’s awkward silence, and Booth looks at her, then says, “Did we mention it’s dated Portia Frampton’s 21st birthday? Start at the beginning Bones.”
“My dearest daughter Portia…” She stops again, and looks to Booth for help.
“Skip to the part about her father.”
That finally works. The Duke asks his son to leave and both his mother and wife are appalled to find out that the letter said he was Portia’s father. As they continue to talk with Booth, Bones wanders over to the fireplace pokers…Mother of pearl in the handles…
The Duke’s mother asks, “Isn’t this the part where we call for legal counsel?”,to which her son assures her that he did not kill Portia.
Inspector Prichard requests that he accompany her to Scotland Yard
Booth: They request?
Bones: It’s a polite country.
The butler steps in to tell them that taking the Duke into custody will not be necessary as it was he who killed Portia. Booth can’t get over it, “The butler?!” It really does happen in real life?
The family assures their butler they’ll get him the finest of representation, and since he’s confessed Harry will never have to know the truth.
Booth is still stuck on “the butler did it”. “Wow.” No one else seems to get it.
~*~*~
Later that night, Booth, Bones, and Ian are again having drinks down by the river.
Bones: Come on, you mean to tell me that neither one of you the weirdness of this? Alright, the butler did it, it was the butler!
Ian tells them that Inspector Prichard will be spending hours in the interrogation room trying to figure out if he really did it or if he’s just protecting his employer.
Alright then. Ian stands up and looks at Bones. “Well I thought I might entice you back to back to Oxford with me tonight.”
Booth: You know, I do have a gun in England and I’ve really been dying to use it.”
Bones: I’ll handle this.
Bones and Ian step aside as Booth call out, “You know it’s a James Bond gun, it’s a Walter PPK, by the way…”
Bones smiles and tells Ian that although she thinks he’s a lot of fun—Oh he sees where this is going. She tells him that, “It would upset Booth if I slept with you.”
He argues that rationally speaking, why should this be any different than say, if you wanted to have brain surgery. You’d want someone at the top of their game right? Rationally speaking, she agrees.
Ian: Well then it’s settled. *calls to Booth* Look out for the bridge opening, they say it’s good luck. That should keep him occupied for hours.
Bones: Common sense says you don’t offend your partner for an hour of fun.
An hour? What? He tells her she underestimates him, and she just smiles and kisses his cheek. He tells her he’ll call her before she leaves. Maybe she’ll be in a more rational frame of mind then.
Ian leaves and Bones sits back down at the table with Booth.
Booth: Why are you looking at me like that? I’m just here to help you pick out a guy, you know?
She continues to stare at him.
Booth: Never mind, I’m just here to bring a little luck.
Bones: I don’t believe in luck.
Booth: What do you mean you don’t believe in luck? Okay, well how do you explain when good things happen out of nowhere?
Bones: Define ‘good things’.
Booth: You know, good things! Money in the bank, hey Doris Day parking—
Bones: What’s Doris Day parking?
Booth: *talking over her* A big piece of the pie, that’s good.
Nope, she’s considers that just a person’s response to the random nature of the universe. Tomato, pa-tah-to, call it what she wants but Booth argues that it’s still luck.
Bones: You are lucky I understand you when you say things that make no sense.
Booth: See? You just agreed with me that it was luck, you just agreed right there so…
Neither of them notice that through their entire argument about luck, they’ve missed the opening of the bridge...
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Whew! Okay I’m going to treat these two hours as two episodes, thus posting them in parts, because 1. My hands are tired from typing, and 2. I don’t know if it would all fit in one post! LoL
Anyway, here are my thoughts on this half of the episode.
Booth in London-Love, LOVED it!! So funny, the driving scenes were my favorite parts of the whole two hours. Poor Booth.
Sweets as a recurring character? Brilliant! The interaction with him and the rest of the squints is hilarious. And though I really miss Zack, having Sweets as a main cast member all the time is, I guess, an acceptable compromise. And I didn’t even hate the new guy Clark as I expected that I would.
Part 2 coming once I get feeling back in my fingers again…
And for those of you who, like me, always want more, check out this bts video of Booth explaining to the class how he took out the serial... Love it!
Also, I love these new promopics!
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
England
Bones is finishing off her lecture, asking her host Dr. Ian Wexler if she could diverge a second. Dr. Wexler encourages her to continue, and she tells the room full of students that her partner gave a talk at Scotland Yard last night. She asks Booth to please stand up.
Except that Booth is asleep, so he can’t hear her.
“Hey Booth!” she shouts in front of the whole room.
He wakes up. “Yeah, I’m here.”
He stands up and waves as Bones explains that he is the intuitive humanist whereas she is the logical empiricist. Although recently she has learned that pure logic can be destructive…She starts to tell them about Zack, “My own assistant, the most brilliant young man I’ve ever met—”
“Ended up a sidekick to a cannibalistic serial killer,” Booth finishes for her.
Bones reminds him that she hasn’t invited him to join her so he can take his seat. Scattered laughed floats through the room and Booth sits down as Bones tells them all that what she’s learned from Booth is, “That we scientists must arm ourselves with something other than just pure logic.”
“Quality which deflects us from an irrational admiration from the rational,” Ian adds.
“Exactly.” Bones gives him an admiring look herself, which Booth picks up on and squints.
~*~*~
Outside, Booth asks Bones, “How old is that guy?”
She tells him that Ian is a year younger than her and almost as brilliant. What did he think of her speech?
“It got better towards the end.”
“You mean after you interrupted me?”
Bones starts to walk off and Booth follows her.
“I’m sorry, look it wasn’t that I was bored, mostly it was just that I was tired, okay?” They continue to walk and talk and Booth says, “The boobies took me out for a beer last night—”
“Bobbies, they’re called “Bobbies”.” Bones corrects.
Booth is pretty sure that some of those guys should be called “boobies” instead. Suddenly Ian calls out to Bones, running up through the courtyard to talk to her. He congratulates her on her talk, adding, “Who knew such a shapeless robe could be so evocative—of academia I mean of course.”
Oh of course. Booth smirks and stands by as Ian pulls Bones aside. She tells him that over the last few days she’s been warned many times about Ian Wexler.
“Warned?” He pretends not to know what she’s talking about as his cell phone starts to ring. “Was is something along the lines of ‘watch out for Ian Wexler he’s a young genius on the rise?”
Bones can’t help but smile. “How can you flirt with me while ignoring your phone?”
He tells her that he’s a man of perspective. Plus he finds that if he ignores it the person usually will hang up and it’ll stop ringing. In any case, he pulls out his phone and answers it.
“Dr. Ian Wexler…Murder? What kind of Murder? Is it a boring one or is it a violent one?” He covers the mouthpiece. “Is your interest peeked?”
Is he serious? Ian passes over the phone, asking them to please just state who and why. Scotland Yard. Homicide. Well is she in?
“I’m keen as ketchup,” Bones tries.
“Mustard. Keen as mustard,” Ian corrects. (Seems Bones can’t even get it right in England.
) “Excellent effort at the colloquialism though, very impressive.” Ian glances at Booth. “Does your cowboy want to tag along.”“Oh please don’t call him that.”
“He’d find it insulting.”
“No,” Bones explains. “He’d love it.”
Booth just grins.
~*~*~
Down at the crime scene, Inspector Kate Prichard watches workers pull a vehicle from the river. She catches a glance of the dead body’s dirty skull still sitting behind the wheel. The honk of a car horn draws her attention, and she walks over to Ian, Bones, and Booth.
Ian starts to introduce his visitors, but Inspector Prichard interrupts, “Ah Agent Booth!”
“Yes.” He shakes her hand, grinning.
“I very much enjoyed your presentation last night.” She turns to Ian. “He’s very active. Sound effects, visual aids, lots of props.” She turns back to Booth and Bones and adds, “Although he did complain at great lengths of having to check his gun with us.”
“Well you know, without my gun I’m practically naked. Isn’t that right Bones?”
Yes that’s right.
Ian takes this opportunity to introduce Bones to Prichard, explaining that Dr. Brennan “is exactly like me.”
Prichard begins to rattle off a long line of words that apparently describe them both them as they head through the crime scene, “Charming, tenacious, salacious, sophomoric, euphoric, noble, ignoble, fatuous, horrid, morbid, torpid, and tedious?”
Ian assures her that flattery will get her nowhere. She just laughs as he asks, “So you found Portia Frampton?”
She teases that the way it usually works is that she drags the bodies out and he identifies them with his extraordinary talents.
Booth nudges his partner. “Hey Bones, they’re like the English version of me and you!”
Ian looks at the dead body. “But you think it might be here?”
Prichard pulls out a tabloid, headlines reading, “HEIRESS LOSES HER SHIRT”. Next to it is a censored picture of a blond girl, who Prichard explains Portia Frampton is an American. As is her father. “Do you know him?” she asks Booth and Bones.
“Not all Americans know each other Kate, there are quite a lot of them,” Ian answers as Inspector Prichard continues to explain that her father wants to build a skyscraper over what might be a Bronze Age treasure trove. Or maybe just a rubbish tip.
“They aren’t mutually exclusive,” Bones says stepping forward to get a look at the body.
“Exactly…”
They both laugh as Prichard continues to talk about the crime scene and Booth listens. Bones and Ian have already lost themselves to the body. He asks her what she thinks and she IDs the body as female, late teens, early twenties.
“Penetrating trauma to the peridal bone,” Ian addes.
Bones turns around and calls out, “Someone hit her over the head with a sharp object.”
“You have to do that as well?” Ian asks her. “Translate for him?”
Booth turns to Prichard. “Do you have to deal with that too?”
Prichard gives him an “Unfortunately” look, then asks, “Is it murder?”
Booth Ian and Bones say, “Yes” at the same time.
Prichard tells Booth that Portia’s father will no doubt demand FBI involvement since they’re American. But of course he wouldn’t have any jurisdiction aside from what she grants him out of courtesy.
“Well that whole ‘no jurisdiction’ thing doesn’t really fly in the FBI,” Booth says with a smile.
“Just tell him he can have a gun,” Bones offers.
“But he can’t!”
“Well as they say in America,” Booth says, starting to leave. “Hasta la vista baby.”
Alright, alright. Prichard can’t have him leaving, she needs his help, so she tells him that she’ll do her best to find him a gun.
“In that case,” Booth says, excusing himself to stand next to his partner. “Bones and I are the best crime-solving team in America.”
“But we’re in England…” Bones mutters. Yeah he knows.
Ian steps up next to his partner. “Let’s all just try and pull together, shall we? One nice happy transnational unit of inquiry?”
Okay then. Bones tells them they’re going to need to have the remains, silt samples, and any parts of the vehicle they might need transported back to the Jeffersonian. Booth is obviously enjoying this.
Prichard, maybe not so much. She turns to her partner. “Well how do you feel about that Dr. Wexler?”
“Oh I’m looking forward to completely surrendering myself to Dr. Brennan.”
“You heard him,” Booth quickly says, gesturing with his hand. “Back to the Jeffersonian, all of it. Pull in the overhead.”
~*~*~
*Opening sequence note: Zack is gone.
But Sweets has made it in! *Back in the US, The Squints are getting all the evidence Bones sent. Zack has been replaced by another of Brennan’s grad students, Clark. The crate is opened and everyone takes their respective presents.
Hodgins: Check it out, British slime. So much more proper than American slime.
Angela takes some photos and a piece of paper in an evidence bag to her office. As she’s studying a photo of the victim’s skull…
“Angela?”
She turns around to find…her husband, Grayson!
Totally surprised, Angela runs over, jumps in his arms and gives him a kiss. Then warns him that, “That is the last bit of sugar you’ll ever get from me. I want my divorce.”
Grayson just laughs.
~*~*~
Back in London, Ian, Prichard, Booth, and Bones have met up again to discuss the case. As Ian reads over the case file, Booth can’t get over his terrible breakfast.
Booth: You won’t believe what my hotel gave me for breakfast. It was like this brown goo, and some kind of meat—I think it was a sausage—about the size of my finger.
Bones: I had an entire buffet.
Prichard and Ian look on amused.
Booth: You’re staying at the Duke of something, I’m staying at the beefeater hotel, motel.
Prichard: You ate at a beefeater? That’s brave.
Booth: Brave is right, this is the weakest coffee I’ve ever had.
Bones: Booth? That’s tea.
Booth tosses the contents of his cup into the river as Prichard explains that the victim was last seen leaving her 21st birthday. Booth thinks it’s quite a coincidence that Dr. Wexler is working for the victim’s father…Ian assures him that he’ll check his diary to see if he killed him.
Prichard continues that the girl’s body showed up around 2 AM, but nobody reported her missing until the following afternoon.
Booth: *to Bones* The question is, why?
Ian: *without looking up* She was probably reported missing because nobody could find her.
Prichard: Ian…
Ian: And I suspect the reason why nobody could find her was because Portia was in a car on the bottom of the River Thames. Just a theory of mine.
Booth is not amused. “It’s a great theory, could you hold a minute for one sec?” He hands over his empty cup and straightens his suit. “Me and, uh, Dr. Brennan will go talk to the family.”
Inspector Prichard is surprised. “Together?”
Booth and Bones: That’s what we do.
Ian: You know Inspector that’s extraordinary.
Prichard: Sweet.
~*~*~
Back in the lab Clark has figured out that the victim was struck from behind but he doesn’t know the murder weapon yet. He and Cam are looking at the skull when Angela comes in and introduces her, uh, Husband…soon to be ex-husband. She tells them that she knows Grayson is lovely (Cam’s reaction? A surprised and enviable, “Yes he is…” Clark’s? “He’s a big dude!”), but she doesn’t “want everybody gawking at him like he’s some kind of god.”
Cam is doing just that as she answers, “But he is some kind of god. The best kind.”
Angela: Cam, a little help here.
Cam: Yeah.
Sweets suddenly arrives, takes one look at Grayson and can’t stop laughing. “Poor Hodgins. Wow.” Still laughing. “Look at the guy! He’s just—hahahaha, look at him! Hehe I’m sorry…heh…hehe…”
~*~*~
Angela finds Hodgins and introduces him to Grayson. Hodgins gets up to shake his hand, telling him, “Please tell me you’re here to sign the divorce papers.” Unfortunately Grayson can’t do that because, well, he’s still in love with Angela. Hodgins understands, but pleasantly reminds the man that Angela is in love with him now. Angela agrees.
Grayson: Angela do you remember the night we met?
Angela: Vaguely…
Grayson: Ah the waves were phosphorescent, like the world was upside-down and we were swimming naked through the Milky Way.
Hodgins: Bioluminescent phytoplankton. Nothing mystic.
Grayson glances at Hodgins, then continues to talk about the night they met, who they talked about how the universe talks to them, then when their lips met…He stops himself, apologizing. Although irritated, Hodgins tells him, “No worries, our lips meet all the time.”
Angela tells him how bells started ringing when she and Grayson kissed. Although it was the shark festival of bells, so where they supposed to expect? A 21-gun salute?
Grayson grins and leaves. He needs time before he signs the papers.
Hodgins just laughs and Angela warns him to just wait until one of his ex-girlfriends visits.
They go back to work.
~*~*~
Back in England, Booth, Bones, and Inspector Prichard are talking to the victim’s father. Booth is going to need a list of his enemies. Mr. Frampton insists that he doesn’t have any enemies, but Bones pulls out the tabloid. Both he and his fiancé, Heather, are appalled.
Booth asks Heather how close she was to Portia, and she says that the girl was like a younger sister to her. They talked about everything, including Harry, as in Lord Harry. The Duke wanted to keep Harry and Portia’s relationship a secret. At this point, Bones leans over to explain to Booth that the Duke would be Harry’s father. Yeah he’s got it.
Mr. Frampton tells them all that a murder’s a murder no matter how close he is to the throne. He hugs Heather and asks Booth and Bones to please help him find who killed his daughter.
~*~*~
In the streets of London, Booth is trying to unsuccessfully maneuver his “toy car” as Bones asks him why he ordered this one. Apparently the rental place got it mixed up, he ordered a James Bond car. Inspector Prichard tells them it happens all the time (it’s that American accent!
). She reminds him that they drive on the left there as cars honk and Booth swerves to the correct side of the road.Bones: The driving here requires a different skill set. I can take the wheel if you like, I’m an excellent driver.
*beep beep* Booth swerves again.
Booth: Thank you Rain Man, no. I’m fine. Tell you what, back home? We’d drag the whole Royal Family in to interrogation. Separately. Let ‘em stew, catch ‘em in a lie.
Prichard: Well we can do that if you like. I’d give them time to close up. Uh, do stay to the left here, please!
Booth glances around as more people honk.
Bones: Close up?
Tighten ranks. She explains that nothing is as impenetrable as the aristocracy trying to keep out outsiders, and says she’s rather looking forward to two American’s “bearding the lion in his den”.
Booth comes to a stoplight, and starts to go, but Prichard stops him. “Oh, the light is red.”
Booth: It’s alright, I’m turning right.
Bones: No, no, no, turning right on a red here is the equivalent of turning LEFT into the wrong lane on a red at home.
Booth: That makes no sense—
Booth turns the wheel and goes anyway as Prichard yells at him. “The point is it’s against the law to turn on a red—“ Bus! AHHH! They’re all shouting or screaming. “Brake! BRAKE!”
*honk honk! Beep! Beeep!*
Prichard: BRAKE!
Bones screams and Booth slams on the brakes, causing a traffic jam.
Bones: *still hanging onto the roof* Okay, I think we should wait here until the traffic thins out.
Booth flings open the door and stomps out in frustration. “AHHH!!! I HATE LONDON! I HATE ENGLAND! I’M GLAD WE HAD A REVOLUTION!!!” He pounds out his frustration on the top of the car as Bones’s phone rings.
Booth can still be heard grunting and growling in the background (“And the weather! It’s just clouds and…”) as Cam tells her that the acid composition in the victims cervical fluid caught her attention so she ran some more tests. Portia was pregnant. Bones asks her how far along, but they’re both interrupted as Booth shouts, “AND WHAT’S SO HARD ABOUT MAKING A BLACK COFFEEEEEEEE!!!!!” He shakes his hands in the air to emphasize.
Cam stares at the phone in alarm but tells Bones, “About two months.”
Bones thanks her and hangs up as Booth takes a deep breath and gets back into the car.
Booth: Okay, I feel much better now, what’d I miss?
They tell him.
~*~*~
As they drive up to the palace (as Bones corrects when Booth calls it a “castle”). Booth is now in the backseat.
Inspector Prichard and Bones step out and Booth calls out, “Bones, a little help getting’ out here?” She leans down to help him with the seat and Booth grunts and groans as he pulls himself out of the car. “Geez, getting out of this thing is like being born.”
*Author’s note: What happened to the hilarious clip from the promo? I believe the rest of the line when something like, “I need a good spanking,” after which, Bones turns and hits him. LoL)*
They all walk up to the door of the castle, and an elderly man steps out. Booth asks if that’s the Duke, but Prichard says he’s the gentleman’s gentleman. Bones explains, “The Butler.”
The Butler greets them and when Booth pulls out his badge when the Inspector pulls out hers, the Butler takes one look at Booth and tells him he might as well put that one away because it’s worthless.
Booth just smirks at him. “And yet here I am.”
The Butler heads inside and Booth asks Inspector Prichard if she minds waiting outside. Bones doesn’t get it. Prichard explains that Booth wants the aristocrats upside-down.
Bones: He’ll annoy them, you mean.
Prichard: Let’s just say The Duke and the Duchess won’t be used to your approach.
She lets Booth in on a hint: “When they start commenting on you two each other, you’ve got them on the run.”
Good to know. Booth heads inside.
~*~*~
Back in the lab, Angela tells Cam that the backseats of the SUV were folded down, which made her think that the victim was transporting something worth stealing. Hodgins ascertained that it was a motorcycle, or more likely a scooter. They all talk through a scenario in which the murderer kills, drives the car to the river, dumps the body in, then drives away on his scooter.
Nice work team!
~*~*~
Back in London, the butler shows Booth and Bones through the elaborately decorated room. Booth still can’t get over that The Butler is a real butler.
Booth: A real butler would offer to take my hat.
Butler: A real gentleman would be wearing one.
Booth is sidetracked by a suit of armor, and reaches out, but the butler warns him, “Please don’t touch that Agent Booth.” Bones identifies it as late 1490s or early 1500s, German design. As the butler talks about how the Duke’s family fought for King Henry VIII in France, Booth lets out a scoff, pointing to the cup on the suit of armor.
Booth: Look at the size of this, that’s one large cup. Probably to scare the sissy French…
Bones explains that Henry VIII started the trend of large cod pieces because he had syphilis. The Butler quickly tells them “His Grace refers the intimidate the enemy version if the topic arrives.” He tells them that Her Ladyship and Lord Henry will meet them.
~*~*~
Lord Henry tells them that he knew something was wrong when he didn’t hear from Portia in two weeks. But just because he kept their relationship a secret didn’t mean he didn’t love her. Booth points out that “from where we come, that’s exactly what it means.”
The Duke asks if they’re sure “This American” has the right to be asking these questions and Booth assures him that if they call Scotland Yard the answer will always be yes. He takes a seat without being offered one.
So did Portia ever come to visit this palace? (The Duke: “House.”) Nope. Booth doesn’t understand why, but Bones talks to him again about the class system in England still exists at the highest levels of society. She turns to ask how long Portia and Henry’s sexual relationship had been going on, and Henry quickly defends, “I didn’t say I was sleeping with her.”
“Of course you were sleeping with her,” a voice calls from the doorway, and Henry’s grandmother is wheeled into the room in a wheelchair. The feisty older woman points out that Portia probably enjoyed it as well. Booth tries not to laugh as she asks if her son has offered their guests any refreshments. He grumbles that he wasn’t about to give them any reason to stay longer…
She asks for tea please, then tells Booth and Bones that Harry kept his relationship with Portia secret “Because her father is a rapacious crook who uses intimidation and bribery to get what he wants.”
So it had nothing to do with the tabloid (which Bones pulls out of her purse). The English family is appalled. Henry’s mother tells Bones to “put that rag away” as Henry says that he was there that night.
Booth: So you saw the photographer.
Henry: Of course not, I would have thrashed him.
Booth: *laughs, to Bones* The Lord was gonna go all medieval.
The butler brings out the tea as Henry says that was the last time he saw Portita. Booth pulls out the cell phone records that say otherwise. Henry insists that it was a very private conversation, and Bones asks if they were talking about the pregnancy. The whole family is shocked. Booth asks Henry if he’s sure he was the father, and Henry starts forth, only stopped by his father’s warning.
“Look at that,” Booth grins again, lifting his tea cup. “I’m being intimidated by royalty.”
If he must know, Henry tells him that he and Portia broke up that day.
“Ah, there you go. Motive for murder no matter what country we’re in.” Booth takes a sip of his tea. “Mmmm, what is this?”
Henry’s grandmother tells him that it’s basically the upper-class version of “a cup of Joe”. Booth likes it!
~*~*~
Oxford University
Everyone crowds around the computer as Angela tells them that she’s been going over the tabloid photos and they look like they’ve been doctored.
Booth looks around their very medieval-looking, dark room and asks, “What is this place on the weekend, a dungeon?”
Angela continues to explain that the reflection of light in Portia’s eyes makes it look like the photographer was behind a piece of glass. And...do they see that? Ian, Inspector Prichard and Bones don’ts.
Angela starts to enhance the image. It’s a reflection of a house. They still don’t get it.
Booth: Someone took the picture from inside the house.
Angela: Right. With an 80mm lens.
She quickly tells Bones that her ex is there with the divorce papers, so she’ll fill her in when she gets back. Ian leans down to tell Bones that he loves the mix of personal and professional “you people” seem to manage…Bones is too busy thinking that Harry could have taking the photograph to pay him much attention.
Yes, that’s true, Inspector Prichard agrees, except that Harry had no motive to take them. They’re most likely looking for a disgruntled servant who’s looking to cash in.
~*~*~
Hodgins enters the diner to find Grayson already eating. Grayson apologizes, but Hodgins assures him he’s not there for food, he’s there to get him to sign the papers. Grayson asks if he would do it if he was in his place. Hodgins tells him he’s not in his place, and as great as Grayson obviously is, Hodgins believes he’s the best for Angela, and he loves her more than him.
Grayson: You cannot possibly know that.
Hodgins: And yet, I do.
Grayson decides they are at an impasse and goes back to eating.
Later when goes outside, Hodgins is there waiting.
Grayson: You have no sense of dignity.
Hodgins: Yeah, I’d give up my life for Angela, so *shrugs* what’s a little dignity?
Grayson: She kissed me.
Hodgins: On the cheek or…
Suddenly Angela and Sweets round the corner.
Angela: What’s going on?
Sweets: Oh man.
Hodgins: He says you kissed him.
Angela: I did
Sweets: Whoa.
Angela: It was a goodbye kiss.
Grayson: There’s nothing you can do. You must accept—
BAM! Hodgins punches him.
Angela: Hodgins!
Sweets shrugs off his coat. “Here, can you take this please.” He hurriedly hands it off to Angela, takes one step and trips, falling flat on his face.
Hodgins takes another swing, and Grayson easily grabs him and throws him into the back of a leaving garbage truck. Angela is not amused by either of them, and tosses Sweets’s jacket on top of him as she walks off.
~*~*~
William Curry & Partners: Chambers of Law
Booth and Bones tell Heather that the help told Inspector Prichard that she was in the room where the paparazzo took the picture. Heather breaks down and tells them that she didn’t kill Portia, she just wanted Roger to regard his daughter as a sexually mature adult with her own agenda instead of an innocent child!
Roger shows up, apologizing for his lateness, but court when long. The judge follows him inside, taking off his wig, which Booth can’t stop looking at.
Roger: Portia I trust you’ve said nothing.
Booth: Too late.
Roger: Too late why?
Bones: Your girlfriend? Sent the naked picture of your daughter to the tabloid so you’d stop thinking that she was perfect and finally get married.
Judge: What Americans lack in subtlety they make up with clarity.
Heather apologizes, but Roger can’t believe she’s done this. She begs him to forgive her but he storms out. She follows, calling after him.
Judge: I trust this interview is over.
Booth: *still squinting at the English wig* I just have one more question, who the hell would want to wear this?
The judge just lifts his eyebrows in surprise.
~*~*~
Booth and Inspector Prichard are enjoying a beer out down by the river, where she tells him that it’s nice to see him finally relaxing in London. He tells her he’d like to see the bridge open, and when she asks why, he says, “Luck.”
She answers that he’d have to be ridiculously lucky to see that happen. That was exactly his point.
Prichard pushes a small wooden box across the table, telling Booth that he did get a little lucky today. Booth opens it to find a Walter PPK. Not only is it a gun, but it’s a James Bond gun!
Booth: Booth. Seeley Booth.
Prichard: No, that’s terrible.*laughs*
Booth: Thanks Prich.
She reminds him to please remember that if he does use it, she’s the one they’ll hang. Booth assures her he’s a good shot.
His phone rings. “It’s the American Squints. You’ll love these people.” He answers it and Angela tells him that the paper they sent was a letter to Portia from her dead mother. Dated this year.
So Portia’s mother is still alive?
~*~*~
Down at Ian’s archeological dig, Bones and Dr. Wexler are having a conference with Clark via computer. A few of his grad students eagerly offer advice about his findings and Ian tells them to run along and find some Bronze Age bones. Bones tells Clark to have Cam do histology and shuts her computer.
Bones: So what now?
Ian: Well I thought quick drink, back to yours for some sex, then out for a late supper.
Bones: *surprised laugh* I’m inclined to accept.
Ian: I’m ever so pleased.
Bones: But Booth says I shouldn’t trust you.
Ian: And why is that?
Bones: He says you like to wrack ‘em up.
Ian: Wrack ‘em up, how vulgar.
Bones: Booth is very good at reading people.
Ian: Hmm, well in that case, how about we start with the supper and then let the chips fall where they may?
Bones: That would be an acceptable compromise.
They head out.
~*~*~
Back at the Jeffersonian, Hodgins shows Cam some mother of pearl he found on the skull. By the way, has she talked to Angela today?
Cam: Yes.
She automatically goes back to the case, but Hogins asks, “How mad is she?”
“Mad, mad mad.”
“I thought women secretly liked it when we fought over them.”
““Women” is an unacceptable generalization.”
Poor Hodgins.
~*~*~
Oh no, Booth’s driving again. Or rather, trying to park his hated vehicle.
Bones: You should look over your other shoulder.
Booth: Bones, I’ve been driving since I was twelve.
Bones: Would it make you less agitated if I told you that I didn’t sleep with Dr. Wexler last night?
Booth: Okay look, I’m not agitated, I’m agitated because I’m driving this—little car, that’s all. *he continues to try and park unsuccessfully* Dr. Wexler is just--*lets out a frustrated breath* I’m not agitated because of you and Dr. Wexler, Wexler’s just another guy lookin’ for a one night stand that’s all.
Bones: So?
Booth: So?! You’ve got to take it seriously.
He continues to fight with the car.
Bones: Seriously? You mean you never laugh during sex? Because I do.
He gives her a ‘are-we-seriously-having-this -conversation’ look and starts to pull out into traffic just as a truck is headed for them.
Bones: Whoa, do you see that lorry?
*Beep beep!*
Booth: I see that lorry, it’s a truck, okay? We’re American and that is a truck!
He backs up and lets out a sigh.
Booth: I laugh during sex, it’s just—it’s—it’s not that kind of serious. *struggles with the wheel*
Bones: Well I think Dr. Wexler is serious about having sex with me. He’s very interested.”
Booth lets out a long sigh and continues to fight to fit the car into the parking spot as he says, “Okay news bulletin for ya Bones, there’s not a guy in this country who wouldn’t want to have sex with you, but they probably have gay men—whoa whoa easyyyy…”
He moves the car around to more horns honking and a *thump* as Bones asks, “Are you being nice about me, or awful about British men?”
Booth finally stops with the car a second to look at her. “Wexler is not special. You are.”
Bones’s phone rings and she answers it as Booth checks out his parking job.
Cam: Am I interrupting anything?
Bones: I, uh I’m just helping booth drive.
Cam: Oooh, Booth shouldn’t be behind the wheel, he isn’t adaptable.
Booth: I’m Mr. Adaptable, okay? The mirror is a size of a thumbnail!
Bones: Well what do you expect when you rent a car the size of your thumb?
Cam: I don’t think there’s enough fetal tissue to get a DNA reading but—
Booth: Cam can we just be quiet until we get into the flow of traffic here?
He starts to pull out of the parking space yet again and squeals to a halt. Angry drivers shout at him.
Bones: You think I’m special?
Booth: Of course I think that you’re special, yes!
Cam overhears their conversation and starts to laugh.
Bones: *through the line* Thank you, I will take your romantic advice under advisement.
*cut back to the car*
Bones: Now you’re too far to the left.
Booth: OOOOOOH! *goes in reverse*
Bones: You’re gonna hit the—
BAM!
…
Booth: We’re good.
Bones: Yeah unless we get a flat tire.
Booth: No we’re good.
Cam: If I could speak again? I had better luck with the tumor.
She tells them that their victim suffered from VHL disease just as the tire blows out. The car slumps to the side.
Bones: We got a flat tire.
Booth: How did that happen?
Bones tells Cam that there was no evidence of VHL in either the mother’s medical records or the autopsy. But since it’s hereditary it must be the father. Booth is confused, Roger worked for the NHL? No, he may have VHL disease. If not? Well, then he’s not Portia’s biological father.
Oh joy. As if they didn’t already have enough problems.
Booth and Bones look at each other as their car horn starts to blare in a long annoying, Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeep…
Booth: Great. That’s just great. I HATE THIS CAR!!
~*~*~
Later Booth, Bones, and Inspector Prichard confront Roger about his possibly undead wife. The Butler admits that the letter Portia had was not a fake, he was the one Roger’s wife gave it to to give to Portia on her 21st birthday. When she found out that she was dying, obviously she wrote letters to her daughter for important occasions. When Roger tells his butler he should have told him, the butler reminds him that he’s not the only one who hired him for his discretion.
Bones asks Roger about his health. He’s healthy as an ox, even though he doesn’t get why that’s important. Booth tells him that Portia was not his biological daughter.
Inspector Prichard decides that maybe she should continue the interview from this point on.
~*~*~
Back at the Jeffersonian, Sweets comes in to talk to Angela.
Angela: Oh here we go.
Sweets: Angela, men are idiots. Seriously.
Angela: Just to be clear, are you a man or a boy for the purposes of this conversation?
Sweets laughs, then tells her a story about when he was ten and the kids next door had a Turtle Wagon (as in the party wagon toy for The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) that he really wanted. He wanted it so badly in fact, that he climbed a fungus-infected tree to get over the fence to get it. Well, the tree broke and he ended up in the hospital.
Sweets: I’m in the hospital with a broken arm, concussion, and the kids with the party wagon comes in. I confess everything. You know what he says? ‘I would have given it to you.”
Angela: Ah. He had a little gay crush on you.
Sweets’s expression changes dramatically as he thinks about this. “He did?”
“Mmnm-hmm.”
“Oh man, that explains a lot.”
But she’s guessing that he had a different point to the story. Like that she was the party wagon? No, Sweets, clarifies, “You’re the gay neighbor boy. Your love is the party wagon. Grayson is the tree. I am Hodgins. Think about that.”
Angela: Which brings us back to the point that all men are idiots.
Sweets grins. “See how I worked that?” Angela just laughs as he adds, “It’s because I’m so good.”
~*~*~
Hodgins tells Cam that he found crushed coral in the tires, which although it’s from Australia, is used for private roadways in England. Very old ones as it’s been illegal to harvest this stuff for years. He also found evidence of an antique rose bush near where the car drove.
Angela shows up.
Hodgins: Hey, Angela…
They walk off, leaving Cam to mumble that she’ll keep working and…”Security cameras people, the building’s filled with…security, cameras…”
~*~*~
Outside, Angela and Hodgins take a walk, where she explains that no one gets her heart because it’s hers. Except that she’s giving it to him. Hodgins decides that that is so flaky and New Age and wonderful.
They begin to kiss just as Grayson walks out of an antique store. He spots them, and takes an angry step forward. Suddenly an entire group of costumed bikers round the corner, happily calling out and chiming their bike bells. Grayson just laughs. “Okay, okay, the universe speaks. I hear it.”
He watches Angela and Hodgins continue to kiss on the street, then disappears before they can spot him.
~*~*~
Back in London, Cam tells Bones about the crushed coral and rose bushes as Booth tries to get over the fact that a tow truck had to come and lift the car up onto the truck and take it in instead of just changing the flat tire right there on the street.
“If there was a spare, I’d fix it!”
“You probably cracked an axle or something,” Bones argues as she thanks Cam and hangs up.
As Booth continues to complain about how England is just not good for his personal dignity, how now he’s going to have to call Prichard and ask for a ride, Bones is busy smelling the stuff she’s found in the tire treads.
Booth turns around and spots her and warns her not to smell that because she doesn’t know where that’s been! Yes she does.
Bones IDs the crushed coral and has him smell it. Does that smell like roses to him? Booth sniffs. “Where did we pick up crushed coral?”
Answer? The private road and driveway at dear old Lord Henry’s house. But they’d said Portia never visited…Looks like the royals are lying.
~*~*~
Ian, Prichard, Booth, and Bones reconvene at the Duke’s house, where Ian points out the rosebushes and scooter and asks if they really think the Duke could have been Portia’s biological father. Bones explains that both he and his mother show evidence of VHL disease.
Booth asks what’s taking their backup so long, and Prichard tells him that she didn’t call for backup.
“Well, great. In that case…” Booth pulls out his gun from an ankle holster.
“I want a gun!” Bones is quick to say. “I’m a very good shot and I’ve killed before, it didn’t bother me as much as I thought.”
“Well it bothered you a little,” Booth corrects.
“Well yes, but not as much as I thought.”
Ian decides if there’s going to be gunplay he’s going to wait in the car. Inspector Prichard assures him that that won’t be necessary because they have the letter from Portia’s mother.
Bones: We don’t know what it says.
Booth: Ah, but they don’t know that.
Prichard nods.
Booth: Good one Prich.
Ian: What’d you just call her?
Prichard: Prich, Ian, he called me Prich short for Prichard.
Ian: Oh.
Prichard: Will you please put that weapon away?
Booth: Fine, it just feels wrong.
~*~*~
Inside, Booth takes the lead as they confront the family about the letter from Portia’s mother. Booth tells them that he’s going to have Bones read the letter out loud. Bones gives him a panic look. What? Booth nods for her to start “reading” and Bones begins, “My dearest daughter Portia…”
There’s awkward silence, and Booth looks at her, then says, “Did we mention it’s dated Portia Frampton’s 21st birthday? Start at the beginning Bones.”
“My dearest daughter Portia…” She stops again, and looks to Booth for help.
“Skip to the part about her father.”
That finally works. The Duke asks his son to leave and both his mother and wife are appalled to find out that the letter said he was Portia’s father. As they continue to talk with Booth, Bones wanders over to the fireplace pokers…Mother of pearl in the handles…
The Duke’s mother asks, “Isn’t this the part where we call for legal counsel?”,to which her son assures her that he did not kill Portia.
Inspector Prichard requests that he accompany her to Scotland Yard
Booth: They request?
Bones: It’s a polite country.
The butler steps in to tell them that taking the Duke into custody will not be necessary as it was he who killed Portia. Booth can’t get over it, “The butler?!” It really does happen in real life?
The family assures their butler they’ll get him the finest of representation, and since he’s confessed Harry will never have to know the truth.
Booth is still stuck on “the butler did it”. “Wow.” No one else seems to get it.
~*~*~
Later that night, Booth, Bones, and Ian are again having drinks down by the river.
Bones: Come on, you mean to tell me that neither one of you the weirdness of this? Alright, the butler did it, it was the butler!
Ian tells them that Inspector Prichard will be spending hours in the interrogation room trying to figure out if he really did it or if he’s just protecting his employer.
Alright then. Ian stands up and looks at Bones. “Well I thought I might entice you back to back to Oxford with me tonight.”
Booth: You know, I do have a gun in England and I’ve really been dying to use it.”
Bones: I’ll handle this.
Bones and Ian step aside as Booth call out, “You know it’s a James Bond gun, it’s a Walter PPK, by the way…”
Bones smiles and tells Ian that although she thinks he’s a lot of fun—Oh he sees where this is going. She tells him that, “It would upset Booth if I slept with you.”
He argues that rationally speaking, why should this be any different than say, if you wanted to have brain surgery. You’d want someone at the top of their game right? Rationally speaking, she agrees.
Ian: Well then it’s settled. *calls to Booth* Look out for the bridge opening, they say it’s good luck. That should keep him occupied for hours.
Bones: Common sense says you don’t offend your partner for an hour of fun.
An hour? What? He tells her she underestimates him, and she just smiles and kisses his cheek. He tells her he’ll call her before she leaves. Maybe she’ll be in a more rational frame of mind then.
Ian leaves and Bones sits back down at the table with Booth.
Booth: Why are you looking at me like that? I’m just here to help you pick out a guy, you know?
She continues to stare at him.
Booth: Never mind, I’m just here to bring a little luck.
Bones: I don’t believe in luck.
Booth: What do you mean you don’t believe in luck? Okay, well how do you explain when good things happen out of nowhere?
Bones: Define ‘good things’.
Booth: You know, good things! Money in the bank, hey Doris Day parking—
Bones: What’s Doris Day parking?
Booth: *talking over her* A big piece of the pie, that’s good.
Nope, she’s considers that just a person’s response to the random nature of the universe. Tomato, pa-tah-to, call it what she wants but Booth argues that it’s still luck.
Bones: You are lucky I understand you when you say things that make no sense.
Booth: See? You just agreed with me that it was luck, you just agreed right there so…
Neither of them notice that through their entire argument about luck, they’ve missed the opening of the bridge...
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Whew! Okay I’m going to treat these two hours as two episodes, thus posting them in parts, because 1. My hands are tired from typing, and 2. I don’t know if it would all fit in one post! LoL
Anyway, here are my thoughts on this half of the episode.
Booth in London-Love, LOVED it!! So funny, the driving scenes were my favorite parts of the whole two hours. Poor Booth.
Sweets as a recurring character? Brilliant! The interaction with him and the rest of the squints is hilarious. And though I really miss Zack, having Sweets as a main cast member all the time is, I guess, an acceptable compromise.
And I didn’t even hate the new guy Clark as I expected that I would.Part 2 coming once I get feeling back in my fingers again…
And for those of you who, like me, always want more, check out this bts video of Booth explaining to the class how he took out the serial...
Love it!Also, I love these new promopics!
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