All language subtitles for Bones (2005) - S01E09 - The Man in the Fallout Shelter (1080p x265 EDGE2020).eng

* Sleigh bells ring,
are you listening *

* In the lane
snow is glistening *

* A beautiful sight,
we're happy tonight *

* We're walking in
a winter wonderland *

* Walking in a winter...

Sweetie...

Angela, I don't want to.

Sweetie, could you
stop galloping

for, like, two seconds?

Better able to
withstand peer pressure

when you can't catch me.

Call it a favor, okay?

How does me going

to a company Christmas
party doing you a favor?

Remember what
happened last year?

I didn't go last year.

Yeah, exactly.
And it took me weeks

to collect
all those photocopies.

I need you.
Friends don't let friends

photocopy their butts
at company Christmas parties.

Hey, there's
a Secret Santa.

I don't like Secret Santa.

The idea that we are
forced by convention

to exchange meaningless gifts.

Yeah, yeah, I know.

If you rearranged
"Secret Santa" though,

you get "Secret Satan."

What possible meaning
could that have?

I've already had an eggnog,
if you can't tell.

Now how am I going
to enjoy this party

knowing that my best friend
in the whole world

is in the lab, eyeball
to eyeball with Skeletor.

Who?

He's a cartoon villain
who looks like a...

You know, his name
is self-explanatory.

Would you please just
come to this party?

20 minutes.

BOOTH:
Bones.

All right.

Merry Christmas, Seeley.

Ooh, wow.

What are you, an elf?

Yes. What's wrong with
a little Christmas spirit?

What's the context?

Federal property
on Dupont Circle

where Congress puts up visiting
agricultural specialists

or something like that, they're
digging to put in a solarium,

and they find
a fallout shelter

with a skeleton inside.

How long was it in there?

The shelter was built
in the '50s,

part of that whole
A-bomb panic.

It's not a suicide.
Why not?

Hole in the head,
you see the gun.

It's a suicide.

He shoots himself in
the head and somehow

his arm ends up
across his chest?

Bring the skeleton in,

I'll prove it wasn't
a suicide.

Merry Christmas, Bones.

( whistles )

Come on, boys, bring it in.

Oh, no, we're going
to the company Christmas party.

You go ahead, I'll do
a cursory examination

and I'll meet you
in a few minutes.

All right.

There you go.

Booth, will you
escort Angela

to the Christmas party

and make sure she doesn't
photocopy her butt?

Oh, no,
I can't do that.

You see, I got some
really last minute

important Christmas shopping
that I got to do.

It's not last minute
until tomorrow.

Come on, Bones.

Bones...

Just... I got to...

Jeez.

Stop.

( louder ):
Stop.

( chuckles )

Turn.

Your robot
reminds me of you.

You tell it
to turn, it stops.

You tell it to stop,
it turns.

You ask it to
take out the garbage,

it watches reruns of Firefly.

After I fix the voice
recognition protocols,

this is going to blow
those gomers at MIT away.

Hey, we've got about half
a liter of pure alcohol here.

Dump it in the eggnog,

and we've got the best
Christmas party in history.

I brought an eggnog.

I can't drink while I work.

Good thing I didn't
bring it for you.

Crystal in accounting
is after you, isn't she?

Oh, like Alien
after Predator.

Sit.

( chuckling )

What do you got there?

Two open tickets to Paris.

One way.

Pan Transit Airlines.

They're blank.

Pan Transit went out
of business in the '60s.

I thought you were
at the party.

( groans ): It wasn't
a party,

it was a Star Wars convention.

This was still in the skull.

( whistles ): .22
caliber.

It matches the gun
he was holding.

Did you open up
the suitcase?

Nope.
Why not?

Could hold information that
would compromise my objectivity.

Yeah, like a name
and address?

I prefer to make unbiased,
initial observations.

Is that pure alcohol?

Yes, Dr. Brennan.

You really think Goodman's going
to let you spike the eggnog

after the Fourth
of July fiasco?

( sighs ):
We may have to rethink.

Zack, I need you
to clean these bones.

Now?

Ha! Burned.

And I need you
to search the clothing

for insect evidence.

Jeez, Bones, Merry Christmas.

MONTENEGRO:
Okay.

You people
listen to me.

There is a party
going on

upstairs, okay?

A Christmas party.
We're going up there.

We're going to talk
to some people,
we're going to sing

some carols, we're going
to drink some eggnog.

You are going

to kiss me under
the mistletoe.

On the lips.

I might kiss you guys
under the mistletoe, too.

Maybe even you.

In a festive,

non-lesbian manner.

But we are
going to that party.

Put on a mask, I'm going to take
a couple core samples.

Okay.

( whirring )

( alarm )

What's that?

Biological contamination.

( alarm )

Whoa!

Okay.

The doors seal
automatically.

Don't worry about it.

What do you mean
don't worry about it?

There's no use panicking
until we know what it is.

What what is?
Uh, we might know.

I cut into the fallout
shelter bones

and the biohazard
alarm went off.

Were you conforming
to autopsy protocol?

One of us was.

The other was
drinking an eggnog.

And you didn't have
your mask on?

( groans ):
Oh...

That pathogen is
coccidioidomycosis.

Valley fever?

It was picked up
in the scanner

in the discharge vent

at Mr. Addy's station.

What's valley fever?

It's a fungus
that can lead

to pneumonia, meningitis,
spontaneous abortion...

death.

The alarm sounded
shortly after Mr. Addy

cut into a human bone.
That must've been the source.

Was he following
autopsy protocol?

Of course. However...

I was drinking
an eggnog.

And now he's there with you
breathing the same air.

Hey, I got into

the decontamination shower
with Zack.

Haven't I been through
enough hell?

Is he contagious?
Dr. Hodgins may have

inhaled the spores, yes.

Okay, it must suck
to be Hodgins right now,

but the rest of us,
we didn't inhale.

So it's okay that I go, right?

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

We have no choice but
to impose quarantine.

Valley fever can be fatal

and we can't risk
a pandemic.

Just calm down and let us
handle things from this side.

BOOTH:
Anyone besides me

worried that a guy dressed
like Santa is in charge?

Merry Christmas.

Okay, you know what,
if this is fatal,

I will shoot both of you.

Maybe you guys

could go get dressed.

I zapped the bones
with ultraviolet light

and arranged them
in the isolation tables

so we won't have to worry
about spores.

In addition, I found this sewn
into the lining of his clothing.

A woman's wedding band.

Two tickets to Paris,
a wedding band...

a picture begins to form.

We don't form pictures,
we accumulate evidence.

Dental work?

Acrylic resins
in the interior fillings

from the 1940s.

Childhood tibia break,

bad enough that
he walked with a limp.

Also, he wore a toupee.

Doesn't seem
to have degraded.

It's made of a synthetic
called dynel.

It couldn't have looked good.

This is a cocktail of four
anti-fungal drugs

including Amphotericin B

Orally, you'll be
taking ketoconazole,

fluconazole,
and itraconazole.

That's great.
Then we can leave?

We won't know for
a couple of days

if the fungus took hold
in your system.

Whoa, whoa, you're saying that
we're stuck here over Christmas?

Look, you know, I have...

places to go, you know,
I have obligations.

We all have obligations.

I'm supposed to go to Quebec.

Hey, who's fault is this?

Who forced me to go the party
where I drank too much

and had to hide from Crystal?

Who never should've
cut into a bone

with a drunken fool
in the room?

Who brought us human remains

just to ditch a little
paperwork?

Oh, wait, you're saying
that this is my fault?

You knew Dr. Brennan
could not resist.

Well, I'd have been
able to resist

if I was in Niger
where I wanted to be.

You're blaming me?

Ladies and gentlemen,

we'll have sleeping bags
delivered.

Please have your
loved ones call me

and we'll set up some kind of
safe quarantine visit

on Christmas Eve.

Oh, and be prepared
for side effects.

Nausea, fever, insomnia?

In very rare cases,
euphoria,

dream state,
mild hallucinations.

I'll take that, please.

Early symptoms

mimic a common cold.

What if it manifests?

First treatment protocol
involves

extremely painful injections
into the base of the brain.

BOOTH:
You know what?

I've never realized

how pretty all this
shiny stuff is.

That is so not fair.

Tomorrow I was supposed
to leave for Quebec.

Want to know
the true meaning of Christmas?

It's being inside
a 300-year-old inn

with a French-Canadian masseuse

when there's ten feet
of snow outside.

Christmas is going home
to Michigan

and heading into the woods
with your brothers

to cut a 12-foot Christmas tree,

and you all decorate
it together,

brothers, sisters,

nieces, nephews...

40 people who all love you
and are happy to see you.

That, my friend,

is the true meaning
of Christmas.

Nah, I'm going to have to go
with the masseuse on this one.

What are those little tiny
lights dancing on the ceiling?

For the third time, those are
minute firings

of neurons
on your optic nerve

due to your reaction
to the antifungal cocktail.

Wow.

( laughs )

They're beautiful.

( chuckles )

You are stoned, Agent Booth.

( laughs )

Oh, good.

Let's hope it lasts long enough
to keep this from being

the worst Christmas
of my life.

What are you complaining about?

I don't like
to boast, but

I am the spirit of Christmas
in my house.

I have a wife and twin
five-year-old daughters.

We have family traditions,

the most important of which is
being together for Christmas.

Wow. They're beautiful.

Yeah.

I have a kid, too.

His name's Parker.

He's four years old.

His mother wouldn't
marry me, so

my parental rights
are totally...

Vague?

That word's just
a little bit more Christmassier

than what I was thinking.

He's a fine looking boy.

Yeah, I get him
part of Christmas day.

I get him an excellent
present every year.

Something really cool.

But, uh... this year...

Yeah, it's...
this year.

What are those little lights
on the ceiling?

I know it's against
your nature,

but I need your help.

For what?

To make Christmas.

Why? Because
we're the girls?

Yes.

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

You called it
Secret Satan before.

It's all so tragic.

A cheap wedding ring
sewn into a suit,

two tickets to Paris.

It makes you wonder,
who was the girl?

Can you imagine
what it was like for her?

Waiting and wondering?

Never knowing
what happened?

I don't have to imagine.

What do you mean?

I'll tell you what I'm going

to do for Christmas.

Good. Thank you.

At last you decide

to take part.

I'm going
to solve a murder.

Bones.

It's after midnight. Hmm?

Christmas Eve day.

Both an eve and a day,
it's a Christmas miracle.

Still enjoying your
medication, I see.

Okay, so, what
are we looking at.

There are traces of lead
and nickel

in the dead guy's
osteological profile.

You don't seem too upset
about missing Christmas.

Indications are that Christ,
if he existed,

was born in the late spring

and that the celebration
of his birth was shifted

to coincide with
the pagan rite

of the winter solstice

so that early Christians weren't
persecuted.

Mmm. What are you, like,
the Christmas killer?

It's the truth.

Well, it sounds like the truth
'cause it's so rational, right,

but, you know, the true truth
is that you just...

you hate Christmas,
so you just spout out

all these facts and you
ruin it for everyone else.

I ruin the true truth
with facts?

Yeah, and you ruin it
for the squint squad, too,

by making them work
on a case about a guy

who's been sealed up
in a fallout shelter
for 50 years.

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

Christmas is the perfect time
to reexamine your standing

with, you know...

A helicopter pilot?

Oh, right, right.

You can't measure the man
upstairs in a beaker,

so he can't possibly exist.

"The man upstairs?"

Mmm. You know, you don't know
if you're sick,

but you're more than willing
to take drugs just in case.

Seems to me you could give
the man upstairs

the same benefit
of the doubt

that you do
an invisible fungus.

ZACK:
In some cases
of valley fever,

suppurating skin
lesions appear.

Could someone in a position
of responsibility

please order Zack
to shut up?

Coffee,
coffee.

Good morning,
Ms. Montenegro.

Where did this
come from?

Uh, hazmat team brought it over
earlier this morning.

Very... appetizing.

Are you back with us?

Yeah. Think so.

Since we're going to be stuck
together for Christmas,

we should make the most of it.
How?

We'll decorate this place
and exchange handmade gifts.

An excellent idea,
Ms. Montenegro.

I can get behind that.

I'm in.
As am I.

How about Bones?

Mmm.
Uh-uh.

Ah, come on. What's the deal
with Bones and Christmas?

Last night,

I spun a little story

about two young lovers
running off to Paris.

But the man
never shows up,

and the woman is
left wondering what
happened to him.

And I say, "Imagine what
that must have been like."

And Brennan says,
"I don't have to."

Yeah, I-I still don't get it.

Oh, my God.
What?

Brennan's parents disappeared

just before Christmas

when she was 15.

And she never knew
what happened to them.

Oh, God. That explains a lot.

Yeah.
All right.

We need a way to choose
our Secret Santas.

I could build
a random generator.

Wouldn't it be better to match

complimentary people in
a premeditated manner?

I got five numbers in my
head and five letters.

You tell me the number, I tell
you the matching letter.

GOODMAN:
Well, are the letters
sequential,

or the numbers sequential?

( all talking at once )

Six.
There's no six.

"A" through "E"
and one through five?

Just pick a name,

and if you get your own,
put it back in.

Oh. that could work.

Yeah. That's good.
Good idea.

Feds seized the house
from a man

named Gil Atkins
in the '60s.

Proceeds of crime
from fencing,

dealing in jewels,
stolen art.

Atkins built
a fallout shelter in '51.

He sealed it in '58
and he died in '83.

What do you got?

Ah, nothing much special
about our victim.

You know about the toupee?

Below average height,
below average weight.

A little frail.

Had a bad back.

He had a hunch,

maybe from paperwork.

So basically a wimp.

Contents of his pockets.

Oh, compass, pen knife,
some change.

Listen, I got Goodman
for this Secret Santa thing

and I don't know what...

Anthropologically speaking,
gifts are a way

of asserting dominance
in a group.

Now, imagine
an entire holiday

devoted to self promotion,

especially in this
materialistic culture.

How can you expect me
to get behind that?

How can you get behind it?

Wow. That's deep.

That's a very deep
pile of crap.

You came to me with information
this morning, a peace offering,

but it was to make
you feel better, not me.

Proves my point.
Any idea what this is?

No.

Me neither.

Try Dr. Goodman.

You know, Bones, you make it
very, very hard

for me to be
nice to you.

We have to be
extremely creative.

Maybe string a bunch
of test tubes together,

fill them with
luminescent liquids.

Nice.
Very festive.

They'll probably
give us cancer.

That would be fitting
this Christmas.

Tidings
of joy, gentlemen.

Tidings of joy.

Decorations do not
a Christmas make.

Family and friends
make Christmas.

We're friends.

Or not friends.

We are colleagues, friends,
coworkers, yes,

but for a father like myself,
like Agent Booth,

a few glowing test tubes
don't make up

for missing Christmas
morning with the children.

Excuse me?

Be kind. Rewind.
Booth has a kid?

Ah. Well. Not common knowledge,
I gather.

I, uh... see
you've decided

to help Dr. Brennan
with the case.

Oh. You know, if Angela's right,
sure. Why not?

And... something for Bones.

Call it Christmas spirit.

My thoughts exactly.

Um... I thought I might

take a look at
the contents of
the suitcase with you.

Why?

It beats cobbling together
Christmas decorations

out of pipettes
and graduated cylinders.

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

Well, I'm an archaeologist.

I-I'm good with artifacts.

Do you mind?

No. Archaeologist?

I thought you were
an administrator.

Yeah, didn't start out
that way.

He was fastidious.

Everything neatly folded

as though by a trained valet.

This man was
by no means wealthy.

All the clothing

is well used and mended.

See that? "Blackman and Ball,
Fine Tailors.

Washington, D.C."

Rest of his clothes
are all labeled

from Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Huh.

Female handwriting.

How'd you get that?

After cuneiform,
handwriting is a snap.

"Dearest Lionel..."

No envelopes,
no return address.

No signature, either.
Just this drawing of a leaf.

They seem to be dated from
summer of 1957

through to early winter
of 1958.

With your permission,
I'll read these.

Yeah.

Bones thought you
might know

what this is here.

( phone rings )

Oh. Hey, Rebecca.

Yeah, thanks for calling.

You heard what happened, right?

Seems to be some kind
of a pouch.

You don't have to see me.

Sid agreed to bring him by.

Don't make me beg.

Thank you.

Everything all right?

Yeah.

Puparia show Lionel
had Valley Fever.

We sort of knew that.

Wow. Was that a shot?

Because I apologized.

I mean, Goodman doesn't
get to see his family.

Zack doesn't get
to see his kids.

Booth doesn't get
to see his son.

At least I'm
an accidental Grinch.

All due respect, you're
the Grinch on purpose.

I have no idea
what you're saying to me.

The Grinch is the relatively
well-known creation

of a children's author
named Dr. Seuss.

Listen, I got Angela
for my Secret Santa thing,

and what I want to do
is blow up a microscopic image

of a toxic mold--
Stachybotrys chartarum--

because I know she's
very interested

in fractal imagery.

I thought that might appeal
to her aesthetically.

Do you agree?
I'm not really who you want
to talk to about gifts.

Wait. Booth has a kid?

You didn't know?
No.

I wasn't the one
who told you.

Fall, 1958.

Heavy weight suit.

Kind of small,
wool, black.

First name, Lionel.
That's all I got.

Thanks. I appreciate it.

You know, it being Christmas Eve
and all, I'll hold.

Lionel had a suit here
made in town.

The tailor shop,
it still exists.

His grandson owns it.

Get this-- they kept
the records.

We may be able to find
Careful Lionel's last name.

"Careful Lionel?"

Yeah. Little guy, toupee.

Drank a vitamin tonic.

Carried his own compass,
all of this stuff just so.

Careful Lionel.

What was he so worried about?
Well, considering
how he ended up...

Wait, you have a son?

Yeah.

You've never mentioned that.

Well, nothing brings
people together

like a Christmas lung fungus.

Yes. That's great!

When?

Great. Thank you.
Merry Christmas.

Lionel Little.

Okay, he picked up
his new suit

on November 7, 1958.
He paid cash.

He was supposed to come
back the next day

for his shirt, but get this:
he never showed up.

It was his wedding shirt.

( sneezes )

Whoa! Bless you.

Uh-oh.

Is that Valley Fever?

Bones...?

So... so, if Lionel was a coin
collector, that might explain

the levels of lead
and nickel in his bones.

When do they
insert the needle
into your brain?

I sneezed because
the air is dry.

It's not valley fever.

Any other symptoms?
Headache?

Any foul-smelling
pustules on your shins?

Look, she sneezed twice,
that's it.

You find anything else
about the letters?

GOODMAN:
Quite a lot, yes.

They are very, very passionate
love letters.

Careful Lionel
had a girlfriend?

A girlfriend who
was in trouble.
Pregnant in trouble?

Whoa. Apparently, Careful
Lionel wasn't so careful.

BOOTH:
An unmarried pregnant girl?

In Oklahoma?
In the late '50s?

Do you suppose Lionel came up
here to procure an abortion?

You know what? This isn't a
very Christmas-Eve-type story.

BRENNAN:
Of course it is.

The Christ myth is built upon

the travails
of an unwed mother.

Okay, can we just stop
bringing up the whole
"Christ Myth" thing?

All right, some people believe
it's more than just a myth.

Well, who besides you?

GOODMAN:
That would be me,
Dr. Brennan.

I'm a deacon at my church.

ANGELA:
I do.

Christmas and
Easter, anyway.

Although I believe organized
religion is just another

political movement designed
to control the masses,

it doesn't mean
God doesn't love me.

Hey, I'm a rational empiricist
all the way.

Unless you talk
to my mother,

then I'm Lutheran.

( clears throat )

I can understand why
you'd be sensitive, Booth.

You have a child
out of wedlock.

Sweetie.

What?

GOODMAN:
Um, the letters display
a combination

of both block
and cursive.

A combination
of printing
and writing?

GOODMAN:
It would indicate she
may have left school

some time in the
second grade.

Most white children
in those days

would attain at least
an eighth grade education.

She was African-American?

Why, I believe so, yes.

Is there any way Lionel
was African-American?

No, no, he's
definitely Caucasian.

ANGELA:
A white man
and a pregnant

black girl in 1958 Oklahoma?

That was bad?

It was illegal.

In Oklahoma?

Not just Oklahoma, here in D.C.

Then why come here?

They were running away.

BOOTH:
Lionel had two
tickets to Paris.

Where else in 1958
could a white man

and a black woman

get married and live together?

HAL:
Visiting hours, folks.

Who's first?

Well, as director
of this institution,

I claim that right.

Okay, brief
announcement.

You guys might recognize my dad,

but I don't really want
to talk about it.

So, thanks.

Okay. That's all.

*

* Have yourself
a merry little Christmas *

* Let your heart be light

* From now on our troubles

* Will be out of sight

* Have yourself
a merry little Christmas *

* Make the Yuletide gay

* From now on our troubles

* Will be miles away

* Here we are as in olden days

* Happy golden days of yore

* Faithful friends
who are dear to us *

* Gather near to us

* Once more

* Have yourself

* A merry little

* Christmas

* Night.

You like it?

It's very beautiful.

It's not done yet.

We can put our presents
under there, and we can...

You think it's stupid.

No, Ange.

What were your
Christmas plans?

My Dad and I get together
somewhere quiet,

exchange gifts,

just the two of us.

Since I was a kid, getting
some time alone with my Dad

was always difficult.

So what is it with
you and gifts anyway?

I know your parents disappeared
just before Christmas.

My brother, Russ, was 19,

and we were still in the house.

That must have been strange.

Russ found our presents
in my parents' room

and Christmas Eve,
when I was asleep,

he snuck down

and made Christmas,

trying to do the
right thing for me.

Christmas for his little sister.

But when I came down and saw
the lights and the presents...

You thought your
parents were back.

I just expected
to see them sitting there

drinking their coffee, watching
Russ and me open our presents.

Oh, my God.

I kind of lost it.

I refused to open the presents
until they came back.

It was like I told Russ
he wasn't enough family for me.

Before New Year's,

he went out West to work and...

I was in the foster system.

BOOTH:
Excuse me.

We have Lionel's missing
person's file.

The tree is really,
really beautiful, Ange.

Really.

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

GOODMAN:
24 years old.

BRENNAN:
Fits the remains.

BOOTH:
According to the missing
person's report,

lodged by his boss
in January of 1960,

Lionel Little worked
as a lease inspector

for Silver Cloud Petroleum
out of Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Basically
an accountant.

Yeah. You know what,
you were right

about Lionel's coin collection.

When Lionel vanished,

so did most of his extensive
coin collection.

That was attached
to the file.

Did the coins
ever show up?

Yeah. Through D.C, Maryland,
Virginia, Pennsylvania.

The sales were traced

to Gil Atkins.

Yeah, he made about $8,000
selling those coins.

Atkins killed Lionel
for a coin collection?

$8,000 in 1958 translates
to roughly $64,000.

BOOTH:
Careful Lionel gets
a young black girl pregnant.

He sells his coin collection

so he can move them to Paris
and they can live together.

Hmm, he offers the coins
for sale to Atkins,

who figures
it'll be easier to kill

the country bumpkin
and steal the coins.

Oh, also, um,
the last person to see Lionel

was a woman who cleaned
his office, Ivy Gillespie.

GOODMAN:
What's the significance
of that?

Does, uh, this look
like an ivy leaf to you?

GOODMAN:
Ivy Gillespie.

Race: Negro.

Oh, my God.

ANGELA:
You have to
find her.

Ivy.

Ivy Gillespie may not
even be alive.

And if she is, this could be
a reminder of an extremely

painful time
of her life.

What would we accomplish?

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

Don't you see?

You can give her the answer
that you never got.

Angela.

I'm sorry, sweetie,
but it's true.

You have a chance here.

To say what?
"Merry Christmas,
Ivy Gillespie.

"Your fiancé was murdered

"and your life
was ruined, but hey,

at least you get
to know what happened to him."

Don't you wish somebody
had said that to you?

BRENNAN:
I realize it's Christmas Eve,

but it's extremely important

that I find Ms. Ivy Gillespie.

We know that she was
a cleaning lady

at the Silver Cloud Petroleum
in 1958 and 1959.

After that, we don't know.

BRENNAN:
I wouldn't interrupt
your Christmas,

except this is very, very
important to a friend of mine.

I don't want to take time
from your family,

but I have extremely important
news for Ms. Gillespie

regarding a loved one.

Do you have an address
or a place of work

or... anything?

I've made dozens of calls
this evening in an effort

to track this woman down,

and it's that important.

Assisted living?

Is her last name
still Gillespie?

Yes, yes. Merry Christmas
to you, too.

Hello.

Yes, I was wondering
if you could tell me

if you have any guests
there, first name Ivy,

born January 21, 1934?

She'd be African-American.

Yes, I apologize.

I should have started
with "Merry Christmas."

BRENNAN:
Date of birth

is January 21, 1934.

She's African-American.

Yes, Ivy.

Her name is still
Gillespie.

Yes, if her granddaughter
is right there.

Yes, hello,
I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan

from the Jeffersonian
Institution in D.C.

I have information that
might be very interesting

to your grandmother.

I can be reached
through the Medico Legal Lab

here at the Jeffersonian.

And tell her Merry Christmas.

You found Ivy Gillespie.

In an assisted-living facility
near Bethesda.

I spoke to her granddaughter.

Thank you.

She might not get in touch
with us.

She will.

Because it's Christmas?

Yes.

Did you find something?

Two things that fit together.

Angela sent me.
She says it's Christmas.

Okay.
You still think there's more
to learn about Lionel Little

and Ivy Gillespie?

There's always more to learn.

Hey.

I'm sorry you didn't get
Christmas morning

with your little boy.

Thanks.

Good.

Okay, everybody...

stand over here.

Close your eyes.

Open your eyes.

( jazzy percussion plays )

Whoa!
Oh!

ALL:
Merry Christmas.

* Sleigh bells ring
are you listening *

* In the lane
snow is glistening *

* A beautiful sight

* We're happy tonight

* Walking in
a winter wonderland *

* Gone away

* Is the bluebird

* Here to stay

* Is the new bird

* He sings a love song
We should be drinking eggnog.

* As we go along

* Walking in
a winter wonderland. *

Oh, my God.

It's beautiful.
What is it?

It's prettier
if you don't know the details.

That is beautiful.
Thank you.

I wonder what it is.

( gasps )
What'd you get?

Very impressive.

You made this?
Yeah.

Thank you.

I'm next.

It's from me.

Wow!

It's my family.

And me.

Thank you.
You're welcome.

Scarabaeus sacer.
Sacred scarab.

That is excellently
rendered, sir. Thank you.

You're very welcome.

Wow.

Zack, that's a...

ZACK:
Self-propelled,
non-autonomic unit.

It's a robot.

I thought if we get

out of here in time today,
you could give it to your son.

Merry Christmas.

Oh, Zach.

Thanks a lot.
You're welcome.

( laughs )

* Frolic and play
the Eskimo way *

* Walking in a winter
wonderland *
( chuckles )

* Walking in a winter...

Listen, Bones, here's the thing.

What if a gift goes both ways?
What's wrong with that?

Look at this.

Yeah, it's a penny.

It's not just a penny,

it's a 1943 bronze
one-cent piece.

Look, all I'm saying
is that maybe

the real gift is when you accept
something with a little grace.

Over a billion pennies
were minted in 1943,

most of them in steel

to conserve copper
for World War II, but...

a handful were struck
in an old-style bronze planchet.

Only about 12 of them
exist today.

( chuckles ):
Wow. And this is one of them?

Yes.

Huh. How much is it worth?

Over $100,000.

Lionel never showed
Gil Atkins the best part

of his collection.

Atkins murdered him,

and never knew there was a...
fortune in his pocket.

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

GOODMAN:
Ready?

Time for our
test results.

( electronic squeak )

Green. Green.
Uh, is that green as in "go,"

or green as in
"stick a needle in your brain"?

Merry Christmas.

Oh.

Yes!

We are out of here.

Merry Christmas,
everyone.

Go. Go have Christmas.

Wish your boy

a merry Christmas from me.

I'm at Wong Foo's
if you decide you want company.

Merry Christmas, Bones.

WOMAN:
Excuse me?

Hi.

My name is Lisa Pearce,

and this is
my grandmother,
Ivy Gillespie.

Are you Dr. Brennan?

Yes.

I gave birth to a half-white
child in Oklahoma in 1960;

Lionel's daughter.

Raised her myself.

No education.

I got her to college.

She died eight years ago.

And Grandma raised me
after that.

Her mother
was a nurse

and Lisa's going to be a doctor.

Grandma, I can't afford college.

So Lionel
was murdered.

In 1959, yes, by a man
named Gil Atkins.

And you can figure that out

all this time later?

He had these.

( voice breaking ):
Tickets to... Paris.

Grandma, isn't that
what he promised you?

A life in France?

I thought the worst of him.

Thank you, Dr. Brennan.

I have something even better.

What could be better?

You've given me back my life.

It's a penny.

There's something you ought
to know about that penny.

* Let it snow, let it snow,
let it snow... *

Drinks?

Ah, yes.

Christmas spirits,
well, they come in
many a guise.

Cheers. Ah...

Ivy Gillespie came
to the lab after you left

with her granddaughter.

( chuckles )

Don't you want
to know what happened?

I know what happened.

You told her about
Careful Lionel.

You showed her the letters,
the tickets.

She cried,
but you made her happy.

Not to mention
I gave her a penny

worth over a hundred
thousand dollars.

She won't care about that today.

You just gave somebody
the best Christmas gift

they could ever get.

Who's the secret Santa now?

Stop.

Whoa.

( both chuckle )

And that weirdo assistant
of yours just made me

the coolest dad in the world.

Daddy!

Come on!
Daddy!

( grunts )

Hey, look.

Look at this thing.
Can it flip?

How cool. It can flip,
trip, swim,

whatever you want.

( whispers ): Say "Merry
Christmas."

Merry Christmas.

( chuckles )

* Have yourself, ooh,
a merry little Christmas *

* Let your heart be light

* From now own

* Our troubles will be
out of sight *

* Through the years
we all will be together *

* If the fates allow

* Hang a shining star

* Upon the highest bough

* And have yourself

* A merry little Christmas

* Now.

What's that mean?