Alarms sounded throughout the lab as Agent Booth rushed up the platform. The team covered their ears until Brennan swiped her own card through, ceasing all noise. "What's so important that you couldn't take one second to use your I.D. card?" She pushed past her partner to continue working on a skeleton dated from the 1800s. Not once did she look at him.

Seeley moved to stand on the other side of the table, slamming down a black garbage bag. "This." The woman glared back at him, relaying how pissed off she was that his bag had almost hit the bones she had laid out in anatomical formation. He sighed, "Look Bones, I'm sorry. I…" he paused for a moment, deciding not to continue his sentence. He turned and ran back down the stairs before saying something he may regret.

Angela put a hand on her friend's back, "I wonder what all that was about." The squints had hung back, not wanting to get in the middle of anything if Booth and Brennan were about to get in an argument. The crime-solving duo were two of the most stubborn people they knew. Trying to break up those fights were like trying to end World War II.

Brennan stared after Booth, wondering the exact same thing. "I don't know Ange." Slowly, she inspected the contents of the bag, pulling out numerous bones. "Zach, pull up another table. Apparently we're working on a new case."

The intern did as he was instructed. Hodgins approached, "Whoa, what are those?" His finger pointed to intricate designs etched into the bones.

Temperance carefully turned each one in the light. "Your guess is as good as mine. You see if you can get any particulates out of the crevices made by the markings. Angela, take the skull and identify the victim. And Zach, try to determine cause of death in my absence." Without waiting for their acknowledgment, she quickly made her way down the stairs while removing her gloves.

"But where are you going?" Zach's voice echoed down the hall. His only answer was a wave of the hand.

"Well you heard the lady," Angela took charge, grabbing the skull from the pile of remains. The others followed suit.

Brennan got in the elevator of the FBI building, snaking her arm around others in order to hit the button for her floor. One person glared at her rudeness, but it was lost on the anthropologist. Social etiquette wasn't her thing. Once out, she rounded the corner into the familiar room. Seeley sat with his head in hands. He was oblivious to her presence. "Booth…?" Temperance hadn't seen him stressed out like this in a while.

The agent jumped, startled that someone was able to get in his office without him knowing. "Bones. Sorry, I didn't hear you come in." He motioned to a chair for her to sit. "Did you find something already?"

She shook her head, "Not yet. I have the others working on it as we speak."

Booth seemed puzzled. "Then why are you here?"

Brennan thought for a moment, trying to figure out a nice way of wording her concern. Giving up, she decided to stick with her usual form of conversing. "What was that all about back at the lab?"

Of course. That's what she wanted to know. Who wouldn't want to know why they were treated rudely at for no apparent reason? "Oh. I'm sorry, I just…This case…" He took a deep breath, reorganizing his thoughts. "It's very important we catch this guy."

"That was beyond vague. It's very important we catch all of the murderers we go after." She watched him run a hand through his hair in frustration. Obviously she wasn't getting something. "There's more to it than that though. What's going on? If I'm on this case, I need to know."

He nodded. "I know you need to know. This guy is twisted. I've been up against him before, but I've never been able to incriminate him."

Bones interrupted, "Like Hollings?"

This time he shook his head from side to side. "Much worse. The man we're dealing with is called the Carver. You know those designs you saw scratched into the bone?" He waited until she nodded. His eyes closed, reliving the Carver's past victims. "He uses a blade to make them while the person is still alive."

Brennan started piecing the information together, "But that would mean he carves into them while their flesh is still attached?"

"Yes. You only got bones from the latest victim. The one I found three years ago still had a full body. Areas where he had drawn circles into the bone were missing flesh; it was either removed or fell off the body because nothing else was holding it down." The FBI agent's voice was hoarse.

"Booth," Brennan slid her hand over his on the desk. "How many times has this occurred over the years?"

A deep sigh. "23 bodies total." Upon seeing Bones' shocked face, he added "I've tried incriminating him three times, and each damn time he walked free." A growl escaped his throat. "Look, I didn't mean to be rude earlier, I'm just angry at myself."

Her brows furrowed, "Why at yourself? If you should be angry with anyone, it should be with the Carver. He's the one who's been dementedly killing innocent people, not you."

His voice rose, "This guy should have been in jail for years by now. Instead he's out there hacking away and taking more lives! I should have been able to put him away the last time. I should have…" Booth's head dropped back into hands, the exact same position Bones had found him in.

Brennan became demanding and confident. "No. Booth, you can't keep blaming yourself for these things. I know you; you did everything you possibly could. If the Carver walked free, it's because of a judge that can't see what's right under his face."

A chuckle sounded. Booth looked up, "What's right under his nose Bones, his nose."

She thought for a moment, "The nose is on the face."

The man smiled. "Okay Bones," he agreed. "Did you just make fun of our judicial system?"

"Well, yes. Judges hold too much power and the jury is made up of civilians who only know the facts given to them. The lawyers act as gatekeepers, controlling the flow of information, however pertinent it may be. I don't understand how ordinary people have the qualifications to make these types of major decisions. They are easily persuaded by professionals. Some cases don't even include juries…"

"Bones…" Booth futilely tried to interrupt her rant. "Sorry I asked," he mumbled to himself.

"…And even if a jury is able to make an educated decision, how is it possible for them to keep up with legal and scientific jargon when you, a trained FBI agent and ex-Army Ranger, can't even understand it?"

"They…" He began trying to answer the beginning of her question when he heard the last part, "Hey! Wait a minute now!"

"I constantly have to rephrase my findings so you can comprehend the evidence my team discovers." She stated as a matter of fact.

Booth blinked. "Not all the time," he mumbled. A smile crept back onto his lips; he knew exactly what she was doing. "Thanks Bones. I appreciate it."

Her face mirrored his. Their normal bickering had snapped him out of his depressive state. "Anytime."