A/N: This is a short chapter. Sorry 'bout that. I was going to make it a bit longer, but it's been a few days since my last chapter...and well, I thought you guys needed something new. Aren't I sweat? (wait, don't answer that.) Anyhow, hope you enjoy.

another A/N: If you haven't noticed, I like writing in things that you normally don't read about, but are so true. Ex. the bathroom scene in the last chapter. Look for something else that ALWAYS happens.

Disclaimer: Check back to...um...chapter 2I think. Basically says "I don't own BONES". Bummer.

Special Agent Seeley Booth was exhausted. When he had gotten up at 5:30 that morning, he had no idea just how physically and emotionally demanding the day would be. He glanced at his watch. 3:43 PM. Between working the Whitman case with Weasleybeing on the phone with Penn getting updated every hour about the search for Brennan, meeting with Cullen and just absolutely worrying about his partner, Booth found himself longing for sleep. He quickly pulled his mind to his case at hand as he entered the lab. "Any news?" Angela asked as she looked up from where she sat. Her face was drawn, and no smile graced it. Booth shook his head. "Why aren't you out there?" she demanded. Her voice now raised, she was walking toward Booth. Zack and Hodgins looked up from their work. "Why aren't you looking for her?" She was now standing in front of him. "You said you would find her! Why are you here?" Tears had begun to flow freely down her cheeks and she pounded Booth's chest. "You said you would find her. You promised." Booth took the punishment without a word. Finally when she had stopped the beating, he brought his arms up around her.

"Ange," he said softly. "Agent Penn is a good agent. I have faith that he'll find her. You know that I would be out there, but I have to finish this case." He brought his hands to her forearms and pushed her away slightly so he could see her eyes. "Penn updates me every hour and I'm meeting up with him tonight. We're going to find her." Angela dropped her eyes, suddenly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Booth," she said. "I'm just…worried sick." Booth smiled at her and gave her one last hug.

"It's okay, Angela. I'm worried to." As they pulled apart, Booth noticed that Hodgins and Zack had come to stand behind her. Squint comradeship, he thought. "Anything new?" he asked to Hodgins, trying to get back to the reason he came.

"I think I might have found something," Hodgins answered, leading the FBI agent to his desk. He pulled a copy of a newspaper article. "I was able to dig this up." He handed the paper to Booth. The squints all watched as Booth read it over and then nodded. It was an article and picture of Jeremy at age three. He had his face painted at a carnival, and even through the picture was black and white newsprint, you could tell that the boy's eyes were light up.

"And…umm…I did a comparison," Angela started. "Between the boy in the article, the picture and Mr. And Mrs. Whitman."

"What did you determine?"

"Well, based on facial structure I would say that the boy in the article is the son of the Whitman. But this is the weird part. The article Jeremy and the picture Jeremy aren't the same boy."

"I figured as much," Booth said. "But who is this boy?" he asked shaking the paper in his hand. "And where did he go?"

"And who's the boy the Whitman's raised as Jeremy?" Hodgins added.

"And who's the man reported to have been talking to Jeremy?" Booth questioned. The three squints looked from one to another.

"And," Zack started. "Do you think this had anything to do with Dr. Brennan being kidnapped?" Booth glanced up at the boy and then to Angela and Hodgins. He let out a sigh, and then rubbed his free hand over his eyes.

"I don't know," he finally answered.

"Maybe I can help answer a few questions," Dr. Goodman announced from the bottom on the steps. Four sets of eyes turned to look at him.

"What question?" Booth asked, taking a step forward toward him.

"I will assume that my name we stay out of any reports," Goodman said. Booth narrowed his eyes but nodded at the man. "Good." Goodman held out a plain manila folder.

"What is this?"

"Take it and see, Agent Booth." Booth reached out, took the folder and then opened it. Inside where classified papers with a name that Booth didn't recognize on them but one alias that caught his eye: Diana Weasley. Hodgins let out a soft whistle from where he stood reading over Booths shoulder.

"Where did you get these?" Booth asked, shutting the folder. Goodman smiled.

"It would seem that Dr. Hodgins isn't the only one in this lab with…informants," he said, before turning and leaving.

"What is it, Booth?" Angela asked.

"The truth," he said and then turned to look at Angela. "I'm going to have a sketch sent over to you. Do you think you can compare it to the skeleton? Or to the picture of Jeremy? See if there's any common features."

"I can do that."

"Good. Hodgins, look into any deaths in Alabama of a boy between the ages of three to five. And any boys that went missing of about the same age." Hodgins nodded and Booth turned to leave.

"What about me, Agent Booth?" Zack asked. Booth stopped. Normally he would just ignore the boy. It made them both feel better, but he knew that Zack was just as worried as everybody else. And that if he assigned him something to do, that Zack would do it without question. Both Hodgins and Angela held their breath. They both knew that Booth looked over Zack. Teased him without mercy sometimes. They all watched as Booth looked down at the folder in his hands.

"You're with me." The words hang in the silence of the room. Booth nodded to no one, and began to walk down the steps. "You coming?" Zack tossed a worried look to Angela-who shrugged- and then hurried after the agent.

"Where are we going?" Zack asked, as they reached Booth's black SUV. Booth pulled opened the driver's side door, and got in. When Zack had mirrored his action, he started the car and pulled off.

"My office," he finally answered. Zack swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Wh-why?" Zack asked, stumbling over his words.

"Cause I need help going through all those papers Goodman gave me." Zack nodded, and nothing else was said.

Brennan pulled her knees as close to her face as she could and rubbed her nose across one of them. Why does your nose always itch when it's the hardest for you to scratch it? she asked herself. Again she rubbed her nose across her knee. With the itching ceased she stretched her legs out in front of her. She wasn't sure how long she had been there, but her stomach was beginning to growl signaling that breakfast had completely worn off. Brennan let out a sigh. I need to do something, she thought. But what? I could start by getting up off this mattress and finding my cellphone. Brennan drew her face up in thought. Yeah, but what if they're watching me? What if they messed up my phone after playing my messages? There were so many things running through her mind. She questioned her treatment. The attack hadn't hurt her. Hadn't really said anything to her. Odd.

I know, I kinda left ya hangin'. Oh well. You'll live. Does your nose itch yet? It's true. Your nose ALWAYS itches when it's hard to scratch it. Like when your hands are full or when someone says "Hold this right here and don't move". :-)

More to come soon. Just hang in there.

wolfy