Authors Note: Another update my lovelies, I hope you enjoy. Not much to say other than: Brennan's mystery man is no longer a mystery. If you guys have any ideas at all of what you would like to see in the story, please feel free to share them. I'm here to write what will make you smile =D

Song: Can't Take My Eyes off You by Lady Antebellum.

So lay here beside me just hold me and don't let go
this feelin' I'm feelin' is something I've never known
and I just can't take my eyes off you

Waking the next morning, Brennan rolls to her side and opens her eyes, silently cursing the brightness of the room. She smiles when she is able to focus on Booth. She's missed him so much the past week, and being with him last night, being able to see him and talk to him-among other things-she vows to herself that she will not stay the night at the lab again anytime soon.

She scoots closer to him, if that's even possible since he's held her close to him the entire night, and runs her hand up and down his toned chest. She leans in and kisses him softly on his jaw, down his neck and back up to his lips, smiling as he begins to participate in the kiss. She breaks the kiss and looks down into his sleepy brown eyes, a wicked smile on her face, "Good morning."

Booth groans, but pulls her tight to him, "Great morning. How'd you sleep?"

"Wonderfully," Bones answers, tracing his features with her finger, "better than I have the last three nights."

"Good," Booth says, pushing a strand of stubborn hair out of her face, "what time is it?"

Brennan shrugs, "I don't know, and I don't care. We deserve to be a little late this morning, don't you think?"

Nodding, Booth brings her down to him for another searing kiss.

-BONES—

Brennan walks into the lab around ten that morning, instantly being bombarded by Angela.

"You are over two hours late, Bren. I was worried," Angela says, following Bones into her office.

Brennan turns towards Angela, "Sorry Ang, there really was nothing for you to worry about. I'm fine as you can clearly see by now."

"That is not the point. You're my friend, can't I worry about you when you usually get here at seven and it's nearly ten?"

"Of course you can, when worrying is permitted. I was simply playing hooky, as Booth would call it, for a couple of hours; and since I've been practically living out of the lab, and not seeing my boyfriend for the last three or more days, I figured a couple hours of hooky with him was a good enough reason to come in late."

Angela smiles knowingly at her friend, knowing that she and Booth were being naughty. "Well, well, someone was being bad."

"On the contrary," Bren tells her with a wicked smile playing on her lips, "Enough about me, what else have we found out about my remains?"

"Not much, everyone is stumped on this guy," Angela answers, with a confused look on her face.

Sighing, Brennan rubs her forehead, "This is starting to unnerve me, Ang, I don't know what to do about this one."

"You'll figure it out Bren, you always do."

Brennan nods, "I hope so." Slipping into her lab coat, she walks out of her office, Angela in tow. Stepping onto the platform, she abruptly stops, causing Angela to crash into her back.

"Bren, your break lights are out," Angela says, placing a hand on her growing bump.

Not catching Angela's joke, Brennan replies, "I'm sorry, I'll get them checked. Have you tried running the face through DMV records? If he isn't listed as missing, maybe we can find him there."

Angela nods, "I'll get right on it."

"Thanks."

-BONES—

"Special Agent Seeley Booth," he answers his desk phone.

"Hey, it's me, I was wondering if you had any reports on a missing male mid to late 3os? We ran his face against every database we could think of and came back with no hits," Bones says into the phone.

Booth smiles, "Well good afternoon to you too, Dr. Brennan."

"This is no time for pleasantries, Booth. I want to know who this guy is, but I can't find any record of him."

"Wow, sorry," Booth apologizes, "I'll look and get back to you in an hour."

"Thank you," Brennan says, and before Booth could respond, all he can hear is a dial tone.

Looking at his phone in confusion, Booth opens up files on his computer starting a search with the criteria Brennan just gave him. His phone rings a few moments later and he rolls his eyes, 'I can never get any work done around here.'

"Special Agent Seeley Booth," he answers.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you. This is just really starting to frustrate me."

Booth smiles, "It's okay. I understand."

"It's not okay, Booth," she says. "Want to grab a late lunch?"

He smiles, "Miss me already?"

Brennan chuckles, "You could say that. Pick me up in half an hour?"

"You got it. I love you."

"I love you too, Booth."

-BONES—

Pulling up to their favorite Thai restaurant, Brennan barely makes it out of the car before Booth is at her side, his hand finding its way to the small of her back, the place where it has always seemed natural to be. Giving her his charming Booth smile, she can't help but chuckle at his happy disposition. Only Booth could make her laugh when she is frustrated with a case.

Leading her to a table, the pair sits as Brennan looks at him, getting straight to the point, "So have you found anything on the information I gave you earlier?"

Booth gives her a firm look, "Now Bones, no discussing cases while we're out at lunch."

"Booth that seems like a ridiculous ideology. We are both stuck on our cases and I am waiting for information that you, the FBI agent, were asked to run. It seems logical to discuss them over lunch."

Booth bites back a small grin as he listens to her tangent until she is done. "I want to be with you for lunch, not our cases. We have to deal with them enough as it is; this is 'us' time."

Brennan can't help but feel a surge of warmth in her chest at Booth's declaration, "Well, when you put it that way, I guess it doesn't sound quite so ridiculous."

Booth reaches across the table, laying his hand over hers, "I'm glad that you agree with me, Bones." Giving her a sweet smile, they pull away long enough to place their orders, before Booth's hand finds its way back to hers, "so besides being frustrated, how is your day going?"

"Extremely slow," Brennan grumbles, "but I am going to safely assume it will be that way until we can identify the man in the lab. How is yours?"

"It's gotten better in the last half hour," he says, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, smiling as she smiles at him.

-BONES—

Walking back into the Jeffersonian, Brennan sulks back to her office, plopping down at her desk, staring down at the sketch of the man in her lab.

"Bren!" Angela shouts, causing the anthropologist to jump. "Oh, sorry for startling you, but I had to show you this."

"It's okay, Ang," Brennan replies, as the artist thrusts a book in her face. "What am I looking at?"

Angela smiles, "This is an entry in one of the books in my office. This man, Leroy Alfred Schwartz, was the first Caucasian to own a plantation on the East Coast, which was slave-free. Look at him, Bren. Does he look familiar?"

Brennan stares from the book to Angela's drawing back to the book that is currently sitting in front of her. Various emotions flicker across the anthropologists' face, before her voice goes emotionless again and looks back up to Angela. "What made you think to look in a book?"

"There was something about him that was familiar. And I tried to remember where I thought I had seen him and for whatever reason when I looked at the book, I had this feeling to open it."

Brennan nods slowly, "A person of this importance would have had a proper burial. Not tossed out like garbage."

Angela bit her lip before bringing up something on Brennan's computer, turning the screen towards her. "After I figured out who he was, I looked on the internet and found an article about it. Apparently with the major flooding they had up there, it flushed many of the older burial plots, bringing up the bones and taking them with the water. Sorry sweetie."

"We can't fight the elements," Brennan says matter-of- factly. "Good work, Angela."

She smiles brightly at Bones, "Not a problem, Sweetie. How was lunch?"

"Good, thank you," Brennan answers, putting her lab coat back on and going to collect the bones of Leroy Alfred Schwartz so that he can be cataloged. "How was yours?"

Pulling a face, she answers, "Well, your God-child was repulsed by everything that I wanted to eat, so I got stuck with a granola bar again."

Wrinkling her nose, Brennan says, "Actually granola is quite healthy, especially during pregnancy. I think your fetus is quite smart already."

Looking at Brennan's retreating back blankly, Angela shakes her head. No matter how much she wanted to shout her protests about eating the granola, she doesn't. Brennan will understand in time; after all, how long could she keep the biological clock at bay; especially with a hunky man like Booth to father her child?