Booth used to think that his office was a safe place. But when he had seen the envelope waiting for him he had gotten a sinking feeling in his stomach. The kidnapper had been here. And if not the kidnapper, his henchman. He was holding the yellow envelope in his hand. He stared at the carefully written letters on the front. He read them for about the fifteenth time.

'To Agent Booth. Happy Hunting.'

He'd had the urge to crush the envelope on reading it. He wanted to go burn it. He wanted to… kick something. But the only things in range were his desk and some cabinets. The envelope was small. But it was a perfect fit for a 4 by 6 photo. He could tell from the thickness.

He was glad he'd left Brennan and Hodgins down at the car. He said he was going to run up and grab a change of clothes. Which had been totally true. And assuming the kidnapper had been a copycat had left him unprepared.

He was debating between not touching it more and compromising evidence or opening it. He was still staring at it when he heard the door open.

"Booth?"

Brennan had never seen Booth scared. But she was sure this was what he looked like when he was. And it scared her. Scared her to the core. Nothing scared Booth. Booth was always able to deal with his emotions. He never let her see this side of him. She saw Booth take a gulp and look up. His face was white.

"It's for me." He managed.

Brennan kept her outward composure calm. For Booth. "Did you open it?"

He shook his head. "I…" he looked down at his shoes and then looked Brennan in the eyes. "I don't know if I can."

"You're a very muscular man, Booth, I don't-"

"Not that way." Booth said. "I don't know if I can handle what's in here." His anger had faded and was now being replaced with anxiety.

"I'm right here, Booth." Brennan said as she walked over. "You can do this. I know you can."

Booth nodded. He slipped a finger under the edge of the flap. It ripped open with relative ease. "Cam can try and get DNA off of the strip." Booth said as he kept the flap shut.

"Booth." Brennan pressed.

Booth knew he was stalling but he added, "Fingerprints too."

Then he slid the picture out. He stared in disbelief for a minute as his brain processed what was in the picture.

"That sick bastard."

Brennan though about pointing out it was irrational to assume the sender had been male. Then she saw what the photo was and thoroughly agreed.

Booth clenched his jaw and hissed his next words through his teeth. "I'm sending a team over to Sweet's apartment to check for evidence." He picked up the phone at his desk.

Hodgins opened the door next. "Hey, everything alright?" He saw the looks on Booth and Dr. B's face. "Something happened."

"The kidnapper sent us a picture of Sweets." The anthropologist answered.

"And?" Hodgins prodded.

"He was in Sweets' apartment. And… Sweets was…" Brennan struggled for words.

"Beat up and naked." Booth finished.

The words didn't process. "What?"

Brennan walked over and showed him the picture as Booth started barking into the phone.

"Look, I don't CARE what time it is-" Booth stopped as the person yelled back. "Listen to my words carefully. I'm not going to repeat them. LANCE SWEETS GOT KIDNAPPED. Understand now? … Ya, that's what I thought. Now wake people up and get them over to his apartment! … Ya, it better be fast. Get the scene sealed off and focus on finding fingerprints." Slam. Booth's fists clenched and his jaw clamped down hard.

Hodgins was looking at the picture with a look of shock on his face. "Are you sure that's Sweets?" he squeaked out.

"I recognize the scars on his back." Brennan replied.

"How'd he get those?"

"Abuse from when he was a child in the foster care system."

"Come on, Bones. We're going to Sweets' apartment." Booth said angrily as he stalked towards the door.

"What about me?" Hodgins asked.

"You're going to the lab and testing this envelope." Booth said and handed it to him forcefully. He then disappeared down the hall.

Booth was pacing outside Sweets' apartment door. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Brennan watched helplessly from her position leaning on the wall outside the door. Booth's thoughts were racing. The kidnapper would have had plenty of time to bring Sweets back here and do as he pleased while he was unconscious in the hospital. Two hours. A lot could happen in two hours. Especially if he had the place where he was going to bury Sweets dug in advance. Where else could he have taken him? But wherever he had taken Sweets had to be close. He didn't have the time to go very far if he had taken Sweets here first.

He had called Cam on the way over. She had said the rohypnol would have kept him unconscious for quite a long time. So at least he hadn't been in any pain when he'd been beaten. That also explained why no one had heard anything.

The reason for his pacing was that he was waiting for Caroline to get a warrant. The warrant would then get them the security video. They were also checking security video at the FBI. They had also warned the Jeffersonian that something might happen there. Security had been doubled.

Booth ran a hand through his hair. He was missing something. Something wasn't right and it was bothering him. Yes, Sweets was the youngest. But was that why he had been taken? Had he been working on a big case and gotten into trouble that way? The Gravedigger could have just been the easiest cover up. Make a phony call that said he was buried alive and you're a copycat. But why beat him? Why take the pictures?

"Agent Booth?" Booth turned to see a woman. She was about 5 foot 7 with blonde hair. She took out an FBI badge for him to see and then held out a hand. "I'm Agent Hanson. I'm here to help on the Sweets case."

"The scene's that way." Booth said flippantly and ignored the extended hand. He walked away.

Brennan walked over. "I'm Doctor Temperance Brennan. I... apologize for Agent Booth's behavior."

"It's alright. I understand the situation." Agent Hanson replied. "I'm a profiler. I came to help try and figure out why the kidnapper wants Sweets and possibly where he would take him."

"Psychology is a soft science. It's not a credible source of help at the moment." Brennan replied.

A small smile crossed Agent Hanson's face. "That's what they told me you'd say."

"Who?"

"I stopped over at the Jeffersonian before I came here. I spoke with Dr. Soroyan. She said I could find you and Agent Booth here."

Brennan crossed her arms over her chest. "I will agree to your help if Booth does."

"If Booth does what?" The FBI man asked as his pacing brought him back over.

"I'm a profiler." Agent Hanson said. "I can help you tell what your suspect is thinking and why he's going off of the Gravedigger masquerade."

"Really?" Booth asked.

Agent Hanson sighed. She'd had to do this so many times it was almost routine. "Your socks and tie suggest that you don't like to conform to the rules. So does your Cocky belt buckle. But a quick look at your records says that you're a very loyal and devoted person. You probably drive a black vehicle, most likely the one provided to you by the bureau. If you didn't drive the black car you'd probably drive a red one. And I can tell from the way you hold yourself and you're organization that you've served overseas and you're proud of it."

Booth was silent for a moment. "She reminds me of Doctor Gordon Gordon." He extended a hand. Hanson shook it. "Welcome to the investigation."

"Thank you. Now I'll take a look at the scene if you don't mind." Hanson said and walked off.

"Do you really think she can help?" Brennan asked. "I will admit that her demonstration was impressive, but psychology is still a soft science that is not totally accepted in the science world."

"If she can help us find Sweets I'm more than happy to bring her on." Booth answered.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, favorite stories, and alerts so far! :D It really means a lot! I'm also starting to name chapters. So if you want you can look back and see the changed names.