Thanks for being so amazing, guys! I hope you like this chapter. Things are heating up!! haha R&R please!

Emma had been at Sweet's apartment for a few hours now. They had played Wii tennis, Wii baseball and were now onto Wii golf. Sweets was feeling more comfortable around her and was attempting to make her laugh before her turns so that he might get the advantage on her.

"Careful Emma, you don't want to make any Wii-stakes."

Emma doubled over laughing, "Why are you turning everything into Wii?"

"Why? Are you Wii-jealous?"

She laughed again and looked at the screen taking another practice shot, "Shut up Lance. If you talk during my turn, I might kill you with my ninja skills." He smiled at her and stayed quiet as situated herself to putt her shot. She swung the remote slowly; the ball rolled on the green and landed with a plop in the whole. She raised her hands in the air victoriously and jumped, "EAGLE!"

The game then responding, "Nice Eagle!"

Sweets laughed at her reaction and stood up to take his turn. Emma threw herself on the couch, grabbing her beer and taking a swig. She looked at the coffee table and noticed the plethora of empty beer bottles scattered over its surface, and she then realized that it was three o'clock, and she was drunk.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Sweets angry yell from going over par and she laughed as he angrily threw his hands on his hips and turned to her. Noticing her laugh, he lightened up a little and threw himself on the couch next to her.

"Sweets?"

"Grayson?"

She let out a small laugh and looked over at him, "I am so wasted."

Sweets laughed, "Me too."

They sat in silence listening to the Wii's music.

Booth knocked on the door of Melanie Roselli's room impatiently. The door swung open and she stood in front of him. They stared each other down until Booth took his badge off of his belt and flashed it at the girl.

"I'm special agent Seeley Booth with the FBI and I have to ask you a few questions, Melanie."

"No thanks." She said, devoid of emotion.

"Either I ask you some questions, or I take you in for hindering an investigation."

The girl crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame, "Fine, but make it quick."

Booth side stepped the girl and strolled into her dorm room. He knew she hadn't invited him in, but he came in anyways since the opportunity had presented itself. The girl slammed the door shut and leaned against the door defensively. He turned to face her and leaned on a desk on the opposite side of the room, "What was your relationship with Ashton Crimsmore?" he asked, eyeing the girl up.

"We dated, Agent Booth," she said, a smirk playing on the corners of his lips, "But you already knew that, didn't you?" Booth nodded slightly, "Maggie told you about me and Ashton." She said pushing herself off the door and slowly making her way to Booth and cornering him, "Hey, Agent Booth," she said lifting a hand and placing it on his chest and letting it slide up and down, "Isn't dating a possible witness to murder a conflict of interest? Or are you two just doin' the quick n' dirty?"

She was taunting him and he didn't like it. With every movement of her hand he felt dirty, and he felt nervous. But if she wanted to play, then he would play too. He advanced toward her, coming face to face, "How did you do it?" he asked.

She looked up at him with innocent eyes, "Do what, Agent Booth?" a more mischievous smile coming to her face.

"Murder him." He said, inching closer to her.

Her voice became more seductive and looming, "I don't know what you're talking about, Agent Booth." Her smile grew to an expression of lust. She was trying to avoid the subject, thinking that he was the kind of man who was unable to resist a woman's advances. She placed her other hand on his chest as well and began feeling his chest more vigorously. She pouted at him, "I didn't do anything. Don't you believe me?"

Booth looked at the girl and smiled; he was onto her. He gently removed her hands from his chest and pushed her away from him; heading for the door. Turning to her, he straightened out his tie, "I don't use my handcuffs for sex games, and I certainly don't sleep with immature brats who commit murder. I'll be seeing you very soon, sweetheart. Count on it." He opened the door and looked at her one more time and winked at her before exiting the domicile. As he walked away he heard the door swing shut with a slam.

"One?" the tired girl in the black ensemble asked as Brennan walked inside. Brennan nodded and followed the girl to a table. She observed the setting around her. It looked like any normal restaurant, nothing that particularly screamed "mob cover business" about it. She was sat at a window seat and scanned quickly for something that she would want; settling on the Caesar salad. She wasn't hungry considering she had just eaten with Booth less than two hours ago.

She placed the menu down and took a sip of water casing the area. There were a few overweight men at the bar, some alone, other looking as though they were there on business with a client. She scoffed at the chauvinistic air that surrounded them. Only men thought it was appropriate to take another male client out for a drink in the middle of the day. It's a dated ritual that is built upon the premise of whoever can drink more and pay the bill first is the manliest.

She rolled her eyes and started to study the men and women who were employees. They looked like college age students. None of them appeared to be overly athletic; in fact most of them looked like they didn't take part in sports at all. No graceful dancers, no well toned football players; none of them appeared to excel in athletics.

The waitress came over and took Brennan's order and promptly took away the menu and headed for the kitchen. Maybe this wasn't worth the time. Maybe she should just leave.

She looked back over toward the bar and saw a man looking at her and she froze under his tedious eye.

Sweets cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. He and Emma had been peering at each other through their peripheral vision for about ten minutes now, completely silent and somewhat uncomfortable with the situation.

"So…" he stated, attempting to start conversation.

"So…" she said, finally turning her head towards his.

He looked at her, and she looked adorable. Her hair was mussed and her eyes were tired. He had no control over himself when he leaned in and kissed her.

It caught her by surprise at first, but couldn't bring herself to pull away. She leaned further towards him, grasping for his lips with hers. The distance between them was still great and the amount of leaning that they had to endure in order to reach each other was hard to maintain while trying to grasp for breath.

Emma moved her body so that she was sitting on her knees, making the distance closer, but not quite close enough. Her abdomen was killing her and she finally had to pull back.

They were both out of breath. Emma turned on the couch again and sat properly. They were unable to look at each other for fear of what the other might say. Suddenly Emma jumped up and ran to the door shouting, "I should go! I had a great time, Lance! I'll see you tomorrow." Before shutting the door tightly behind her.

Sweets buried his head in his hands and shook his head, "You moron! What did you do that for? You just made a fool out of yourself!" he said to himself condescendingly. He looked up and saw her purse still sitting on the couch.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the bag and ran out into the hallway to try and catch her. She was nowhere in sight. He ran for the stairway and ran down as quickly as possible.

Booth drove back to the Hoover building feeling somewhat pleased with himself. Pissing off a murder suspect was a perk of the job. Making criminals shake in their boots only aided in their potential mistakes and slip ups. If Melanie Roselli was indeed the killer, she was bound to let something slip her attention now knowing that the FBI was keeping tabs on her whereabouts.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Brennan's office. She didn't answer, so he hung up assuming that she was most likely on the platform examining remains from limbo or something.

He pulled into the parking lot of the Hoover building and made his way upstairs to his office, settling down to do some paper work.

Brennan finished her meal as quickly as possible, feeling the intense eyes on her the entire time. Before even receiving the bill, she threw fifty dollars on the table and gathered her things to leave. She attempted to not look at the man before leaving, but she subconsciously looked, scolding herself afterwards. He had been leaving money on the bar. He was going to follow her.

She had her gun on her. She nonchalantly put her hand in her purse and gripped the handle just in case. She walked quickly down the street, knowing that her car was a few blocks away because in downtown DC parking was always horrible along the roadside.

Her breathing was becoming inconsistent and her pace was turning into a power walk. She was scared. Booth wasn't with her. She knew better than to go out investigating without Booth, but she was just so angry at him for leaving her out. She felt like an idiot now.

"Hey!" the man yelled from behind her.

She turned back to see him running toward her and she picked up the pace into a run.

"Hey! Slow down!" he said, picking up his speed.

That was an odd choice of words for a potential abductor. Slow down? Why would she slow down for him?

Sweets scurried down the stairs hoping that he would catch Emma in time. He rounded the corner into the parking lot to see Emma walking quickly away.

"Emma!" he shouted.

She turned to see him with confusion in her eyes. He began to jog toward her when two masked men hopped out of a utility truck and grabbed her. Emma was fighting them, trying to force herself out of their grasp but they were each twice her size.

Sweets began to run towards her, but she was too far away. The two men threw her into the truck and sped off before Sweets could even reach them.

He put his hands on his head began pacing, "What now?"

He grabbed the cell phone out of her bag and called Booth.

"Booth." He said, answering the phone.

"It's Sweets… Emma… she's gone. I don't know what happened." He said quickly and out of breath.

Booth stood up, becoming very concerned, "Sweets, you have to slow down. What happened?"

"Two men came and took her. I don't know where. She's gone now."

Booth put a hand on his head and closed his eyes, "Where are you Sweets?"

"My apartment complex." He responded.

Booth became confused with the statement and then let it go, "I'll be right there."

He hung up the phone, grabbed his coat and rushed out of his office.

"Doctor Brennan!" the man shouted, "Slow down!"

She slowed down, but took the gun out of her purse and aimed it at the man, who stopped in front of her and put his hands in the air, "What do you want?" she asked.

"I'm a fan. A fan of your books." He said in a deep gravely tone.

Brennan nodded, still out of breath, and still aiming the gun at him.

He continued, "I just wanted an autograph."

She hesitantly put the gun down. He pulled out a pen and a piece of paper from his pocket and she signed it feeling slightly faint from running and slightly stupid for being so scared.

The man looked at the autograph and then back at her with a malicious smile. She stared back at the stocky man, rubbing her thumb over the butt of the gun. He stood in front of her longer than necessary which gave her time to notice the crinkling of his worn out brown leather jacket, sullied white t-shirt; the gold crucifix that was hanging haphazardly from his neck. He may have just been a fan, but the "gut instincts" that she was developing with Booth's help told her otherwise.

"Thanks." He said turning on his heels and walking back toward the restaurant. She waited until he was far enough away to turn around and unlock her car and drive away.