Wow, I managed to get it done on Sunday, but barely! Hope you enjoy! Thanks for the reviews, by the way. (:

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B&B

Silence reigned in Brennan's office. Booth sat slumped low in Brennan's chair, twisting from side to side, staring stonily in front of him. Hannah lay across the couch, her head and shoulders resting across Brennan's lap as the anthropologist finished bandaging up the wound in her side. Hodgins sat perched on the arm of the sofa, twiddling his fingers nervously while Angela sat cross-legged on the ground, a quietly troubled look on her face. Each was struggling with their own thoughts and worries as they sat suspended in the stillness.

"There," said Brennan quietly, patting Hannah's shoulder in a rare show of affection. "Does it feel better now?"

Hannah nodded slowly, eyelids fluttering closed.

"Good," muttered Brennan in response. "The painkillers should help. Don't forget to take the advice the EMTs gave you."

"Mmm," whispered Hannah, falling into the lull of light nap as she spoke.

Brennan gently extricated herself out from under Hannah leaning body and stood awkwardly next to her desk beside Booth. Worry creased her forehead as she glanced at Hannah and then out towards the lab, her thoughts evident on her face. Where is Cam? Cam would be better suited to patch Hannah up. Where could she be? And since she's not here, what does that mean? Does that implicate her?

With a heavy sigh, she leaned her hip against her desk and stared at Hannah's dreaming face, trying to reconcile her anger at her for letting Parker be taken away with her general liking for her. Unfortunately, her mind was in such turmoil over Parker's abduction that she couldn't think about anything except her favorite kid's blonde curls and angel face. She couldn't help but think that if it had been her out there with Parker instead of Hannah, she would have been able to prevent him from being taken.

A cell phone buzzed loudly, breaking Brennan from her dark thoughts and she glanced up in time to see Angela stowing her phone in the back of her jeans as Hodgins whipped his own out from his pocket. Flipping open the device, Hodgins smiled softly and rolled his eyes at the message his wife had sent him.

I think I know who did it.

It really wasn't an amusing situation and he felt foolish for cracking a smile while everyone was so worried about Parker, but he couldn't help it. His wife's brain just went a mile a minute and it was pretty tough for anyone to keep up with her, including herself, he thought, sometimes. Besides, how could she possibly know who it was that was messing with their team if their own team leaders didn't even have a clue?

With an exasperated sigh, he shot another text back at her.

Okay, let's hear it. Who do you think is responsible for this now?

Angela threw her husband a dirty glance when she saw his skeptical response and messed him back immediately, keys clacking harmonically as her fingers flashed against the number pad.

Shut up. I am still convinced it's Daisy and Sweets. They showed up late here and they disappeared again when Parker was taken. I don't even know if they've returned yet. Besides, they've been acting suspiciously all day. Something is up with them.

Hodgins shook his head dubiously and widened his eyes at Angela as if pleading for her to see sense.

Ange, we have no proof. It's just a feeling and we've already told Booth about it. Let's just wait and see what he thinks, okay? He is the cop, not us.

Fine. Then I'm going to talk to them the second they get back from wherever they've been, Angela answered, pressing the power button on her phone audibly so that Hodgins would know there was no use in texting her back and arguing with her. With a slight flip of her hair in Hodgins direction, she rose from her seat on the ground and padded out of the room, eyes peeled for a certain psychologist and intern.

Booth watched her go through hooded eyes, resisting the urge to run after her and wring her neck. He had been pretending not to hear the text message battle going on between the entomologist and forensic artist, but inside he was seething. Couldn't they focus a little more on the task at hand? Figuring out who took Parker was the top priority and yet the couple didn't seem like they were putting too much effort into it. Not that I'm really able to be putting a whole bunch of effort into it at this point either, Booth thought to himself as Hodgins shot up from his own perch, clearly intent on following his wife and maybe stopping her from doing something stupid.

Booth's gaze wandered over to where his girlfriend was laying prone on the couch, her arm curled up against her side as if to protect her wound even in her sleep. He eyed her for a few moments, letting his mind shift to all sorts of forbidden places it should never go when considering a loved one. Despite his earlier convictions of her absolute innocence, he couldn't help but question what had happened when he left her outside alone before Parker arrived. After all, he had specifically said that he wanted to remain outside to wait for Parker and yet she had asked him only moments later for him to run inside and grab some things for her. Hannah could have probably shot herself in the waist to cast suspicion away from herself. And she was the only person that they hadn't thoroughly checked out. And how well did he really know her anyway? They had been together for a number of months, sure, but the only things he knew about her were the things she told him and there was a lot of room for lies and manipulation in their relationship, now that he thought about it. She even had the connections to put the case right into the FBI's hands. Why had he so adamantly refused to even consider her as a suspect before?

"Booth?" came Brennan's quiet, tentative voice from beside him. "Booth, a—are you okay?" He angled his head upward just enough to level an incredulous stare at her and watched as a tinge of pink crept into her cheeks. "Okay, I recognize upon reflection that that was probably a senseless question. What I mean is that I am sorry that your son was taken from you and you weren't able to be there to protect him." Booth scowled and folded his arms impatiently. "I wish I could say I knew how you felt, but I honestly don't. However, I do feel pain over the fact that Parker is missing so I can identify with that particular emotion." She paused. "I wish I knew what to say. I wish I could just…say a word and bring Parker back, but I can't. If I could, I would do it in a second."

Booth, who had been agitated by his partner's speech at first, suddenly stood and wrapped his arms around Brennan, pulling her in for a giant hug. Burying his face in her hair, he pulled her closer to him, almost sighing when he felt her press her face into his neck. "It's okay," he reassured her in a muted voice, stroking her hair when he felt her body convulse with a silent sob.

"I'm so scared, Booth," she whispered, snaking her arms around his waist and shifting her head so that her forehead was resting against his shoulder. "I hope he's okay."

"I know," he murmured in her ear. "I am too. I am beyond freaking out right now. I wish I could just hop up and run, run, run until I find my little boy and save him from whoever took him. I wish I could kill the people who threatened him and took him away from me and put him in harm's way. I feel so—so helpless." His voice broke and Brennan pulled him impossibly closer, offering whatever comfort she could even though she knew it wasn't a lot.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, squeezing her eyes shut as she continued the embrace for another long moment before stepping away reluctantly. "I feel so helpless too. I wish we knew where to start. I mean, I suppose we should talk to everyone around the Jeffersonian, at least to see if they say something…" Booth gave her an absentminded nod and she continued after a moment of thought. "Booth? I'm worried about Cam. I'm afraid…what if she's a part of this? She's been missing for a while and…what if she's the one who took Parker?"

"It wasn't her," responded Booth in a low, quiet voice. "I've known Cam for years and years. She would never do anything like that."

"Then where is she?" asked Brennan and Booth shrugged his shoulders in response. "Who do you think did it?"

Booth stood silently for a few seconds, a stricken look stealing across his face. "I'm afraid…Hannah," he finally replied, looking up worriedly at his partner.

"But Hannah was shot. How could she have done it?" Brennan's brow furrowed in confusion.

"She could have done it herself to make herself look innocent, couldn't she?" inquired Booth, leaning closer to her unconsciously.

"No," said Brennan definitively. "With the way the bullet entered her and where, it's impossible for her to have caused that injury herself. She would have had to bend her arm in an awkward and most likely unfeasible position. She couldn't have done it, Booth."

He nodded, chewing anxiously on his lip, still having suspicions about his girlfriend but now feeling ashamed of himself for feeling that way as well.

Before either could speak or move from their positions inches away from each other, Booth's phone rang, jolting the pair out of their staring match.

"Booth," he grunted into his phone, his eyes widening at whatever response he received. "Bones, turn on your monitor."

"Who is it?" she demanded, as she scrambled to follow his instructions. "Who is on the phone?"

"Bones, just do it!" he growled.

"I am, I'm doing it!" The screen powered on just as she spoke and both Booth and Brennan took a horrified step forward at what they saw. Cam was sitting in a metal folding chair in the middle of what looked like a basement, her hands tied behind her back and her legs bound in front of her. A piece of duct tape covering her mouth prevented her from speaking, but her eyes round with fear were saying volumes about her state of mind.

"Cam." The soft word escaped Brennan's disbelieving mouth as Booth shouted into the phone a few feet away from her, demanding to know who he was speaking to and where his son and pathologist were being held at. "This can't be happening."

B&B

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