A/N: I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

From his partner's apartment window, Booth looked down at the street. Four police cars and the inspector's van were parked in front of the building. The blue and red lights were already attracting a crowd despite the late time.

Behind him, the team was collecting evidence. He already knew they would find nothing. The abductor obviously hadn't left behind some clues. Fingerprints were being dusted off the doorknob, the carpet was being closely examined for traces of shoeprints and a few officers were currently investigating the cause of the power shortage.

The apartment was buzzing with activity but Booth didn't hear a sound. His thoughts were miles away from the apartment. His heard was racing and his shaking hands were cold and sweaty. He felt guilty. If only he had insisted a bit more on coming in with her, if only he had come back earlier, maybe he would have been able to save her. Instead, he had gone home, feeling slightly dazed from their unexpected kiss. He had shoved aside his gut feeling, that same feeling that had proven helpful on numerous occasions, and had trusted his partner's words that she would be fine. Now, she was missing.

If it hadn't been for his position at the FBI and for Bones' status as a renowned forensic anthropologist, Booth knew nothing would have been going on at the moment. The local police department would have told him to wait 24 hours and that she was probably just gone to the store and would come back. In this case, nobody could deny the evidence: the shoes, the purse, the keys, the car still parked in its spot and the red blood stain on the carpet. Temperance Brennan had been abducted.

"We're almost done, Agent Booth," a voice said behind him.

Booth, startled, spun around.

"Nothing relevant to the investigation was found."

Booth nodded. He knew that already.

"Now, if you don't mind, I would like to ask you a few questions.

The officer sat down on the couch – her couch – and motioned for Booth to do the same. The two men sat facing each other. Booth examined the officer sitting across from him. He seemed much younger than him. His blonde hair and blue eyes made look like a young boy, but Booth was pretty sure the man was at least 30 years old. He wasn't big but wasn't scrawny either. Judging by his height, Booth had a definite feeling that he had been teased several times by his colleagues.

The officer cleared his throat before speaking.

"What were you doing inside Dr. Brenan's apartment, Agent Booth?"

Booth's eyes grew round in surprise.

"I was coming by to check on her. I was worried," Booth replied, unsure where this conversation would be leading.

The officer nodded.

"Did you have any reasons to be worried about her?"

"I was with her earlier this evening. When I came to drop her off, she noticed something suspicious in her apartment. She shrugged it off as always, we said good night and I left. I went home and tried calling her cellphone to see if everything was okay. When she didn't answer her phone, I came over here to check it out myself."

The young officer jotted down something in a notepad. Booth rolled his eyes at the absurdity of the officer's way of keeping track of interviews. Why did police officers always use notepads to remember interviews? He certainly didn't need any.

He was becoming irritated for no reason and knew it. But the more time this officer spent scribbling down little notes, the less time he had to find his partner. The first 24 hours after an abduction were the most crucial. Surely the officer sitting in front of him knew that.

"Then what happened?"

"I used the emergency door to walk in the building. When I arrived at her apartment, I noticed the door had been left ajar. I called her name a couple of times with no luck. I checked every now, but there were still no sign of her. I tried calling her cellphone and I heard it ringing from her purse, beside the door. The shoes she wore tonight were in the entrance and so were her keys. I looked out the window and her car was still parked in its space. When I saw the blood stain on the carpet, I called you guys immediately."

There was more scribbling. The noise of the pen on the paper irritated Booth. He began tapping his foot, feeling restless. All he wanted was to leave this place and go back home. Being in her apartment only reminded him of what had probably happened to her. He couldn't bear thinking about it.

"What was she to you?"

The question took Booth by surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what was she to you? Were you two friends, colleagues, lovers…?"

All of the above, Booth thought to himself.

"I don't see how it's relevant."

The young office sighed. The day had been long and his migraine was only intensifying with every single sound his team made behind him. All he wanted was to finish up this report and go home to sleep. If this 'agent' couldn't get his act straight, he had a feeling he would be here for a long time.

"Agent Booth, do I need to remind you that you are the last person to have seen Dr. Brennan?"

"No, but…"

"And do you realize that, since we have no other leads, you become our prime suspect?"

Booth's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"What do you mean, prime suspect? She's my partner. We went on a date, I brought her home and that was it."

"Can your alibi check out? Where did you two go for your date?"

"We went to see a movie," Booth replied, deeply annoyed.

He knew the prime suspect hypothesis wouldn't hold. He had done absolutely nothing wrong and there wasn't any evidence, physical or circumstantial, to tie him to her disappearance. He felt the anger start to boil in his veins.

"Which theater?"

Booth gave him the name. The officer wrote it down. Flipping his notepad shut, he looked up at Booth.

"I suggest you don't leave the area. We'll be in touch."

On that, the officer got up and headed towards the door, leaving a dumbfounded special agent behind him.

Booth watched from the couch as the team gathered their equipment and left. The apartment was once again silent. Booth looked around and shivered. He had been in here just hours earlier and had watched somewhat impatiently as his partner got ready for their date. He remembered her putting away the dishes in the cupboards. She had walked around her apartment, tidying her home before she left. He had been impatient with her, had told her to hurry up because they were going to be late for the movie. Now, he regretted his attitude.

The answering machine caught his attention. Without knowing why, he slowly walked to the machine and pressed the Play button. A message recorded the same day began to play.

"Hey Tempe, it's me."

Booth recognized his partner's brother's voice.

"I was just wondering if you would like me to come down next weekend. We haven't hung out for a while. It would be fun. Call me back when you have the time. Love you."

The beep told Booth the message was over. Booth sighed. He would have to call Russ to tell him his baby sister had disappeared.

He wasn't sure how long he had stood there, staring at the machine. Finally, grabbing the phone, he searched through the directory for Russ' phone number. He quickly found it under speed dial 1. He wasn't surprised at Russ' priority. Temperance had been more than happy to have been reunited with her brother. Curious, he checked the other buttons. He found Angela at number 2 and his home phone number, cell phone number and office number under 3, 4, and 5. Booth smiled in spite of the sadness and the anxiety he felt at the moment. At least he was important enough to have a speed dial button.

Pressing the 1, he waited as the phone dialled the number. A few rings later, a rather sleepy Russ answered the phone.

"Hello?"

Booth glanced up at the lock hanging from the wall. It showed 11:49.

"Russ, it's Booth, your sister's partner."

"Oh, yeah," Russ replied, yawning. "Agent Booth. Always nice to hear from you at… 11:50 at night."

The sarcasm in Russ' voice was obvious even under the thick layers of sleep.

"I'm sorry to wake you up, Russ, but I'm calling about your sister."

Even through the phone, Booth knew he had struck a chord.

"What? What's wrong with her?"

Russ sounded completely awake now. Booth took a deep breath.

"She disappeared. Someone took her."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Booth gave the man some time to process the information. When Russ still hadn't said anything, Booth ventured to talk.

"The cops already stopped by her apartment, but they found nothing. They seem to think I've done it."

"You? Kidnap my sister? They are crazy!"

"Hey! I'm with you on that one," Booth replied.

"You would never hurt my sister."

"Never! That's why I'll do my best to find her."

"I'm coming to DC," Russ announced.

"Why? There's no need to."

"She's my sister, Booth. I can't stay here in North Carolina and wait. I'll help you look for her. We'll set up a search team or something."

"Listen, Russ. We'll talk in the morning, okay? You just sleep on it. I'll call you if something new comes up."

A long sigh reached his ear.

"Fine. Talk to you later."

The two men hung up.

The call had only lasted three minutes but it had drained the last ounce of energy Booth had had in him. Grabbing his jacket, he casted one last look at the empty apartment and headed out. A deep sense of emptiness overtook him as he closed the door behind him and locked it.

Outside, rain had started to pour. By the time Booth made it to the SUV, he was soaked.

Temperance moaned softly as she slowly regained consciousness. Her neck felt sore and she couldn't feel her feet or her hands. She opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by complete darkness. She tried to listen for a sound but everything around was completely silent. She tried moving, quickly found that she couldn't. She was bound to a chair.

Her lips and her throat were dry. She was thirsty. Licking her lips to moisten them, her tongue bumped against a small cute. Memories of earlier events came back to her: the blade, the warmness of the breath against her… He had pressed the blade to her neck. When she had fought back, he had punched her in the jaw. She had fallen to the ground. He had pulled her to her feet and had told her to act normally as they walked out of the apartment building.

Somewhere to her left, a door opened. She turned her head in that direction to find the tall man walking in. He slowly approached her and Temperance could feel herself beginning to shake. The man came to a stop in front of him. Gathering as much courage as she could, Temperance tried to free herself. The man chuckled.

"You can't escape, my precious."

Bringing a hand to her face, he gently stroked her cheek.

"Such a beautiful woman and pretty talented in her line of work from what I heard. It's too bad I'll have to kill you."

Temperance tried to turn away from the stranger. The man forced her to turn her head to face him.

"Maybe I'll just wait a little longer. Someone's bound to start looking for you. This could prove to be interesting."

Temperance watched as the man's hand disappeared in his pocket, to slowly come out with duct tape.

"Now be a good girl and hold still," he commanded before leaning towards her and giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

Temperance shuddered.

Seconds later, she was plunged into an even more profound darkness as duct tape covered her eyes and mouth. She listened as the footsteps walked away from her.

"Pleasant dreams, precious," the man said before closing the door behind him.

Temperance tried once again to free herself before finally admitting defeat. She let a few tears slide down from her eyes as she desperately clung to the hope that Booth was looking for her.