A/N: So I was involved in a discussion recently with some other Bones fans about the likely logistics involved for the Gravedigger to kidnap Booth from his apartment in Hero in the Hold. At the end of our chat, FaithInBones joked that I should write a fic on how to kidnap Booth. Well . . . this has nothing to do with the actual episode we were discussing and probably isn't at all what she was thinking of, but, the muse decided to take the prompt and play with it. So voila . . . here's what came out.

Blame FaithInBones. This one is dedicated to her – she writes so much for others, she ought to have something written for her occasionally!

Oh, and by the way, this one is written for the over 18 audience. Note rating.

Rated M.

Brennan scrutinized her reflection in the mirror, checking to make sure everything was just the way she wanted it as she placed the last bobby pin in her hair. She wanted everything tight and secure so when she slipped the black ski mask that was currently resting on the corner of her bed over her head, she wouldn't have to waste any time rearranging her hair or brushing loose strands away from the eye holes.

Stepping back, she let her eyes track down past the black cotton and polyester blend body-shaping turtle neck that hugged her upper torso to the snug, form-fitting black jeans that revealed her feminine curves. Turning her hips and looking over her shoulder, she confirmed that she had the cat-burglar look down pat.

Black ankle socks and black tennis shoes completed her ensemble and with a crooked grin towards her reflection, she nodded her head. "Let's do this," she told the image staring back at her, ignoring the excited butterflies twirling around in her belly. With a quick spin on her toes, she scooped up the mask in her fist and headed out of the room, reaching out to flick off the lights as she passed through the door.

The drive to Booth's apartment building passed quickly. It was late enough that there was minimal traffic on the streets, but still early enough that Booth should be awake. Brennan parked her rented handicap van in the shadows about a block away from his apartment and settled down to wait. Turning on the radio, she tuned in to the sports station broadcasting the hockey game Booth had indicated he planned to watch while she waited for the second period to draw closer to an end.

While Brennan was not typically regarded as a gambler, this was one time where she couldn't seem to walk away. If she lost, she'd be mildly embarrassed and probably have to put up with teasing, taunting comments from Booth for weeks, if not months to come. But if she won . . . the potential payoff was invaluable in her mind.

It all came about when she and Booth were having drinks at the Founding Fathers after wrapping up the Chapman case almost two months earlier.

"So, Abigail confessed?" Brennan had asked Booth.

"Yeah. Of course, she said she never meant to really hurt the guy, let alone kill him, but she didn't know how much force was required to knock out a 230 lb man, so she hit him too hard with the bat."

"Well, he might have been able to survive the cranial injury if he'd received prompt medical attention, but she also did irreversible damage to his spinal column when she dragged him down that flight of steps. Even if he'd lived, his lower extremities probably would've been permanently paralyzed."

Booth snickered. "I just don't get it. I mean, did she really believe that she'd be able to kidnap him like that? She's probably 8-inches shorter and at least 60 to 80 pounds lighter than him. There's no way she was going to be able to secretly haul his unconscious body out of his apartment without hurting him."

"It could be done, but most people just don't take the time to rationally think through a problem before they jump into action."

"C'mon, Bones. No way." Booth shook his head skeptically, then pointed the long neck of his beer bottle at her. "Look, as a soldier, I've carried unconscious men by myself before and I'm just saying it ain't that easy to haul someone around. Lionel Chapman was too big for Abigail to handle."

"You're only considering brute strength and you're not making any allowance for ingenuity."

Booth scoffed. "That's like saying that just because you're a Brainiac, you could kidnap someone like me from my apartment after rendering me unconscious without hurting me. I simply don't believe it's that easy to do."

Brennan bristled. She always got prickly when Booth questioned her capabilities. Lips pressed tightly together, she looked at Booth and snapped "I could do it if I wanted to."

He laughed, raising her hackles even more. "Right, Bones. Keep on telling yourself that." Booth placed both elbows on the table, crossing his arms and, ignoring her frown, leaned in to her personal space so he could speak more softly, almost seductively. "She was planning to take Lionel to a remote cabin and entice him into a lover's tryst. She was certain that if she could just get him alone for a couple days, they'd be having Wild Monkey Sex all over the place. Not exactly sure why she thought a conk to the noggin would be seen as foreplay, but hey, whatever." The side of Booth's mouth curled up even more. "So tell me . . . what would you do with me, Bones, if in some imaginary universe you were actually able to pull off my kidnapping, hmm?"

He was so close. Brennan could feel the gentle caress of his breath on her face as he spoke and there was something indefinable in his gaze . . . something that made her heart beat accelerate, but in a pleasant way . . . something that made her stomach clench in anticipation . . . something that made a warmth pool between her thighs. They'd been dancing around their attraction for each other for years now and lately, they'd both started pushing the limits – just a little bit here or a little bit there. She was certain it was just a matter of time before they finally gave in, but they were both so stubborn in their own ways. She let her face relax into a seductive smile, slowly running just the tip of her tongue across her upper teeth as she tilted just a tad further towards him, closing the gap between their faces to just a couple inches. "A lover's tryst with wild non-hominoid simian sex sounds . . . quite intriguing. Too bad there's a line between you and me . . ."

She watched his nostrils flare and heard him suck in his breath, his eyes never leaving hers. "Fuck the line, Bones. I'd be at your mercy and you could do anything you wanted with me."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

With that promise, he'd sealed his fate. The temptation was just too great for her to resist any longer.

Finally, after about 15-minutes that had felt like two hours, the sports broadcaster on the radio announced there were just a few minutes left on the clock. That was her cue.

She could feel the adrenaline rushing through her system as she maneuvered the van into the alley way behind Booth's building, stopping the vehicle beneath the fire escape that led past his window. Beside her, on the passenger's seat was a small black knapsack that had all the tools she anticipated needing for this phase of tonight's activities, including her ski mask which she pulled out now and slipped on over her head.

Tossing the knapsack over her shoulders, she climbed on top of the van and reached for the fire-escape ladder, clambering up onto the wrought iron steel landing that hung about 9 feet off the ground. Up one flight of steps and she was able to peek into Booth's window. He was right where she expected him to be – sitting on the edge of his couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes glued to the television. A bottle of his favorite beer sat on the coffee table within easy reach. Brennan glanced at the TV and noted the game clock indicated 27 seconds left in the period.

She ducked to the side and took off her knapsack, reaching in to pull out a small black cloth pouch that contained an assortment of small metal instruments and a fresh bottle of Booth's favorite beer. She popped the top off, dumped out about 2/3 of the brew over the edge of the stair landing, and dropped in a quick dissolving minor tranquilizer that she knew would make him sleepy without reacting with any of his other standard medications. Another quick glance in the window and she saw the period was just ending. After spending many a night sitting beside Booth on his couch with a hockey game playing in the background, she predicted he'd get up and go to the bathroom now, then go to the kitchen and get a fresh beer.

As soon as he left the room, she went to work on the window lock. As a child, her father had often presented Russ and her with different "puzzles" to work out. It wasn't until she'd become an adult and learned about Max Keenan's past that she fully understood he'd been teaching them the skills to pick locks among other things. That knowledge certainly came in handy now. She knew the type of locks on Booth's windows and had been practicing on a mock-up in her own kitchen the last couple weeks. Now, she had the lock undone and was sliding the window open in less than 15-seconds after Booth left the room.

Brennan reached down for her doctored beer and quickly slipped into the living room, swapping it out with the nearly empty bottle Booth had left on the table. She took his bottle with her and ducked back out the window, pulling it closed behind her just as she heard the toilet flush down the hall.

Brennan sat down on the far side of the fire escape landing. She could easily see inside Booth's well-lit apartment, but she was far enough away from the window that Booth wouldn't see her in the dark if he glanced her way unless he was right up against the glass. She watched him return from the bathroom and head for the kitchen and knew by the changing light patterns on the wall when he opened his refrigerator. Sure enough, he sauntered back into the living room a moment later with a fresh beer in one hand and a fried chicken drumstick clamped between his teeth.

She watched as he set the new beer bottle next to the old one, then lifted the old. He frowned at the bottle and swirled it around as though questioning the amount of beer left, then pulled the chicken leg from his mouth and chugged the remnants of the old beer, walking back to the kitchen to toss the bottle into the recycling bin before returning to the couch.

Brennan smiled to herself. Whether Booth was simply so predictable or whether it was only because she knew him so well, he'd behaved exactly as she'd anticipated.

Now, she just had to wait for the drugs to take effect.

Grabbing her knapsack, Brennan quietly climbed up the fire-escape to the next level. This was the phase of her plan that she was the least confident about and felt the most exposed. She'd be on this stair case for at least 15 more minutes, maybe longer, then she'd be in and out of his window for another 10-20 minutes while she hauled him out. That meant there was at least a full half hour where it was possible someone could come by and spot her.

She took a moment to scan her surroundings.

Nothing moved.

Given the time of night, day of the week, and her off-the-beaten path location, she'd calculated the odds and they were in her favour for remaining undetected, but nonetheless, there were variables she couldn't control. To be honest, she was finding it quite exhilarating too.

Setting her knapsack at her feet on the landing above Booth's floor, she reached in and started extracting an assortment of ropes, straps, pulleys, and carabiners she'd borrowed from the Jeffersonian's supply closet. For the next several minutes, she worked on suspending the pulleys from the stair case framing and threading the rope through them. Once done, she pulled a bed sheet and a harness from the knapsack and snuck down the stairs leading to Booth's level again.

Booth looked like he was sleeping peacefully.

She watched through the window a little longer to be certain he wouldn't stir. Sliding his window open, she crawled through again and tip-toed to where he sat, head back on the back of the couch and breaths coming deep and even.

"Booth?"

No response.

She reached out and gently shook his shoulder. "Booth?"

Still, no response.

Brennan grinned.

Walking around to the front of the couch, she wrestled Booth into a chest harness. It slipped over his shoulders, not too dissimilar to his shoulder holster but with a few extra straps and was relatively easy to put on. Then she spread the bed sheet she'd brought on the floor by his feet and gently shifted his body, a little at a time, until she had him laid out on the floor. Once she had him down prone, she slipped some leg loops over his slippered feet and up his thighs, buckling them to the chest harness so he'd be properly supported when she got him on the rope.

She moved a couple pieces of furniture that were in the way, then grabbed two corners of the sheet and pulled, dragging Booth over to the window. Leaning out of the window, she grabbed the carabiner at the end of the rope and pulled it in through the window, attaching it to the metal rings on the front of Booth's chest harness. Then she got down on her knees beside him and hoisted him up into a sitting position, leaning against the wall right below the window. This was followed by a series of small tugs and adjustments to the pulley system that lifted him up.

Her efforts weren't pretty or elegant and she found his limp body much more difficult to manipulate than she had expected, taking a lot more time than she had assumed, but she persevered. She kept the line taught using a self-locking belay mechanism on the rope for whenever she had to let go to swing him around over obstacles like the window sill or the stair railing. Eventually, he was hanging clearly and she lowered him almost to the ground.

Brennan scampered down the fire escape and opened the back of the van, pulling out a wheelchair. She rolled the chair over to directly beneath Booth and moved him around so he was almost sitting. Then she scrambled back up the stairs, loosened the rope enough for him to drop the final couple inches into the wheelchair before quickly beginning to disassemble her system.

Sliding the window to his apartment shut, she stuffed everything else back into her knapsack, then climbed down the stairs for the last time.

Once on the ground, she used the handicap accessible lift to get Booth's wheelchair into the van and secured, then she left the scene of her first ever (and presumably last ever) kidnapping behind her.

.

.

.

Booth wasn't sure what woke him, but it didn't take him long to realize something wasn't right. His first instinct upon waking was to turn and check the time on his bedside clock, but when he tried to roll onto his side, he couldn't do it. His arm was pinned to the mattress. When he tried to roll over to check his arm, he realized his other arm was also pinned to the mattress on his other side and everything was pitch black even when he tried to open his eyes.

He didn't panic. Cool, tough ex-Army Rangers turned FBI-Special-Agents didn't panic easily, not even when they found themselves inexplicably tied down and blindfolded, but his body immediately locked up in tension and he felt an intense anger towards his unknown opponent surge to the surface.

Suddenly, a straw was placed against his lips and he jerked his head away sharply. His mouth might feel like it was stuffed with cotton wool, but he wasn't ready to put anything in his mouth given to him by his captor.

He heard a soft feminine chuckle. "Drink, Booth. It's just water and it will make you feel better."

Without conscious thought, much of the tension and anger drained from his body at the sound of her familiar voice leaving him relieved, but still confused. "Bones? What . . . "

"Shhhh," she hushed him, gently tapping his lips with a fingertip before presenting him the straw again. Booth felt the mattress beneath him shift as she sat down beside him. This time he drank without hesitation, though only a few sips before she pulled the cup away. "Not too much, too fast, Booth."

"What the hell's going on, Bones?"

He felt the warmth of her palm settle on his chest along the upper half of his sternum and the pressure of her other arm against the mattress right beside his head as she leaned against it. Brennan bent over and placed her mouth right next to his ear and stage-whispered, quite triumphantly, "Gotcha!"

Gotcha. The word echoed in his mind but he was still struggling to make sense of it. It didn't help that Booth was intoxicated by the scent that was uniquely Bones which filled his nostrils and the tickle of her breath against his ear. He licked his lips. "I don't . . . I'm not sure . . . what does that mean?"

He felt her pull away slightly and the mattress shift again as she altered her position to sit more fully beside him on the bed, her legs now stretching out beside his. She didn't remove her hand from his chest though, not entirely. Her palm lifted leaving just the tip of one finger lingering lightly on his skin. Slowly, she started to drag that finger down, tracing a line along his sternum, between his pectorals, then on to his abdominals. "It means . . . you're at my mercy." The lone finger reached his navel and started to circle the rim slowly. "What should I do with you?" she mused.

Booth wasn't entirely certain if that last question was directed towards him or towards herself, but his body seemed to be understanding the situation quicker than his brain. He could feel his arousal building and that tingling sense of . . . something . . . in his balls which let him know his cock was starting to stiffen. "Am I naked?" he asked. Her finger was definitely trailing across his bare skin.

He felt a pause as she circled his navel again. "No. Not entirely. I did remove the T-shirt you were wearing depicting that old band you idolize. That's all."

"It's The Grateful Dead, Bones, and they're so much more than just an old band."

"Mmmm," she acknowledged non-committedly. The next time her finger circled around to the bottom of his navel, she let it drift south another inch until she hit the waist band of his sweat pants, then her finger drifted sideways towards one hip, before reversing course tracking towards the other hip.

Booth figured she must know of the effect what she was doing to him was having. She had to be able to see his erection tenting his sweatpants now. "Bones?"

When she reached the hip bone closest to her, she let her finger slip just beneath the waistband and pulled up, snapping the elastic of his pants against him. "I debated taking these off too." Her voice was soft, like she was spilling a confession. "Originally I planned to do so." She chuckled softly. "Then I realized you, hm . . . what do you call it? . . . oh yes, commando. You were commando . . . . I admit, it almost didn't stop me." Booth heard her sigh and could picture her face – a thoughtful expression with just the hint of a frown tilting her brows down as she looked introspectively and judged her own actions. "However, I decided I needed to be sure you really meant what I thought you meant when you said anything before I crossed that line."

Gotcha . . . at her mercy . . . Fuck the line, Bones . . . you could do anything . . . the conversation they'd had that night after closing the Lionel Chapman case came flooding back to him and suddenly he knew exactly what was happening.

Bones was declaring an end to their "just partners" farce.

Finally.

Booth felt his heart rate start to accelerate at the prospect and a little more blood flowed south of his waistline.

To be honest, right after their discussion that night, he'd wondered whether or not she might try to nab him and he'd spent a couple weeks being hyper vigilant. He'd never make it too easy for her, but he had to admit he'd been disappointed that she hadn't even tried. But now? It had been a couple months and he'd relaxed his guard, completely forgetting about the gauntlet he'd thrown down and she'd caught him by surprise.

That ability of hers to catch him unawares and continually surprise him was just one of the many reasons he loved her. Loved her and trusted her with both his life and his soul. She'd never deliberately hurt him.

"Anything means just that. . . anything, Bones. No more lines."

He heard her sigh of relief and realized she had probably been worried about his reaction upon waking. Not without reason since he'd woken up angry. Now, he had the urge to comfort her and wanted to hold her in his arms. Booth tugged on his restraints. "Let me up, Bones."

"No. Not yet. I've been fantasizing about this too much in the last few weeks to let you go too quickly."

"Oh, God." She'd been fantasizing about him. Him. How had he not known?

The noise that reached him next sounded like she was shifting through a bag of rocks, but then he felt icy coolness against his lips again and realized she'd grabbed an ice cube from an ice bucket. She traced his lips with the cool ice and he couldn't help but follow it with his tongue. Once she'd made a full circle, she took the ice away for a few seconds, then brought it back. This time he opened his lips and let her feed it to him, letting it melt on his tongue.

"I've been sitting here watching you while I waited for you to wake up, Booth. I don't believe you have any idea of how much I'm looking forward to exploring your entire body. Everywhere my eyes have touched, I also want to touch with my hands. And my lips. I am very much looking forward to becoming intimately acquainted with your whole body."

"Fuck." Just like Bones, to share whatever's on her mind.

"Does that bother you?"

"No," he croaked.

There was a moment of silence.

"Does that appeal to you?"

"Oh, God," Booth groaned. "So damn much, Bones."

"When I brushed against your nipples as I removed your t-shirt, they pearled into hard little buds and all I've been able to think about since then is whether or not you would enjoy it if I sucked on one, teasing it with my teeth. I wonder, would the feeling of receiving such attention to your breasts be as pleasurable to you as it is for me when my breasts are caressed, kissed, or nibbled upon?"

Her words and the images they evoked sent a thrill of heat shooting through his body, all the way to his toes. "Jesus Christ, Bones. Are you trying to kill me?"

She chuckled. "No, of course not. I'm just trying to convey to you how much I want you. How much I desire you. And how much I wish to pleasure you. Would you mind if I kissed you now, Booth?"

Booth sucked in a breath. "God, yes."

"Yes, as in I have your permission to kiss you or yes as in you would mind?"

"Yes as in shut up and c'mere, Bones. Kiss me. Touch me. Feel me. Explore my body all you want, just realize that when you're done, I'm gonna want my turn too."

"Deal," she whispered right before she sealed it with a kiss.

She tried to start slowly, the first brush of her lips against his just a soft slide of warm skin against warm skin but Booth's hunger demanded more and drew her in deeper. She found herself leaning into him, her lips pressing more firmly until she felt his tongue probing the entrance to her mouth. Then, all bets were off. Years of pent up desires unleashed and they both poured everything they had bottled up for so long into where they were finally allowing their bodies to merge. It was a hot, wet, and voracious kiss that engaged lips, tongues, and teeth and neither partner seemed eager to end it so it went on and on.

Finally, Brennan pulled back to get a full breath of air and adjust her position. "I want to see your eyes," she announced before sliding her fingers up his cheek and under his blindfold, pushing it up and off his head.

Booth blinked several times as his eyes adjusted and looked around at what appeared to be a dimly lit standard hotel room. The only light came from the bathroom, but it was enough to bathe the room in a soft glow and to let him clearly see Brennan half-sitting, half-laying beside him, dressed in a form fitting black outfit that he found incredibly sexy. Someday, he'd want to see her wearing that again, but now, as his eyes finally landed on hers and saw the embers of heat burning in her gaze, he said the first thing that popped into his mind. "You have too many clothes on."

Brennan laughed and smiled wickedly. "That's easily rectified."

She slid off the bed and without modesty, quickly disrobed down to just her black satin and lace bra and panties, a set she'd selected just for this night.

Booth watched her every move, soaking in the sight of skin he'd never seen before. She was lean, her muscles toned just enough that you could discern the strength beneath the creamy softness of her skin. The flare of her hips dipping into a narrower waist topped by a pair of luscious looking soft breasts that he couldn't wait to sample presented a picture he never wanted to forget. "Damn, Bones. You are so beautiful."

She crawled back onto the bed, this time throwing one leg over his body so she was fully straddling him. He couldn't resist the urge to tilt his hips and push his cock up against her crotch as she settled down against him and he didn't miss the clear gasp of pleasure she emitted as she pushed back. The only thing separating him from being inside her was the thin barrier of her panties and the slightly thicker barrier of his sweatpants but even with those barriers, he could feel the heat from her core as his shaft nestled snugly against her.

Brennan placed both hands, palms down, on his chest and began to touch. "I've wanted to do this for so long," she confessed as she let her hands wander all over his torso. Once she'd mapped his entire upper body with her fingers, from his shoulders down to where her thighs pressed against his waist, she leaned forward and started exploring him with her mouth. Nibbling kisses along his jawline, a soft moist kiss including gentle nips from her teeth at his ear, open mouthed kisses that trailed down his throat as he threw his head back and bared his neck to her.

Brennan scooted backwards, resting her ass on his thighs, and continued on with her explorations taking her cues from his reactions to her administrations, learning what things made him moan, suck in his breath, or shudder and arch his back. She discovered his nipples were quite sensitive and that nibbling on the skin around them with just enough pressure to give a slight sting made him crazy. She learned that too light of pressure on his abdominals tickled but that firm wet kisses right below his navel left him breathless.

She grabbed onto the edges of his waistband and looked back at his face, capturing his eyes. "May I?"

"Yes. Please." His voice was husky with arousal. "But then you need to reciprocate, Bones. I don't want to be the only one naked here."

"That seems fair." She grinned as she scooted off the back of the bed and tugged his pants down, dropping them out of sight on the ground by his feet before removing her own remaining garments as well.

As she crawled back on the bed, she slid her hand between his thighs, cupping his balls and giving them a gentle caress before sliding her hand up and fisting his cock. Her hand slid up and down several times, her thumb brushing across the crown on each upstroke to smear his precum around. "You have a beautiful penis, Booth," she uttered, right before sucking the tip between her lips.

Booth moaned in pleasure. The way she touched him, the way she sucked him, it was incredible but something didn't feel right. "Oh God, Bones . . . that feels amazing, but . . . I don't want this to be just about you pleasuring me . . . I want this to be about us . . . pleasuring each other . . . especially this first time. Untie me . . . please?"

"Of course." She released him immediately and crawled forward again so she could reach the bindings at his wrists.

Booth flexed his fingers and arms as soon as they were free to get the blood flowing again then reached for her hips. He could feel the dampness between her legs as she straddled him and he reached for her, running a finger through her curls and rubbing her clit back and forth. "You're so wet."

"Booooth," she moaned and he loved the sound of his name on her lips. "Oh . . . . oh, my . . . watching you . . . touching you . . . I'm already so close . . . If you want was this to be about us, together, then I need you inside me . . . now."

Booth reached up and nudged her chin with a bent finger so he could look her directly in the eye. "I'm ready for this, Bones. Are you sure you are?"

Gazing back at him, Brennan nodded. "Yes, I'm ready, Booth. For this and everything else that goes along with it."

He studied her for just a few seconds, then said "Good. Then take me."

Brennan reached down between their bodies and wrapped her fingers around his cock, positioning it so the head was at the entrance to her channel, then slid down, engulfing him in warm, wet heat.

Booth had always loved sex and was a far cry from blushing virgin. He prided himself on how few times in his life either his partner or himself had been left unsatisfied, but this was different. The sensation of Bones sliding up and down his cock, the muscles of her vaginal walls clamping down on him with each stroke, milking him was both familiar and yet totally new. She knew him. She knew his weaknesses and his strengths. She knew his past and his history. She knew the things he'd done which caused him regrets and the things he was most proud of. She knew the demons he'd overcome and those which he still battled on a constant basis. Despite all that she knew about him, this amazing, beautiful, tender-hearted woman who always demanded having the best, wanted him. Emotions unlike anything he'd ever experienced washed over him making this experience between the two of them so much more than anything he'd ever felt before.

Brennan leaned down and kissed him, their pelvises rocking together in a gentle rhythm. Deep kisses broken up by small ones along his jaw or across his cheek accompanied by words she couldn't hold back. He felt good, so good inside her. She'd wanted him like this for so long. She may have untied him, but she wasn't letting him go anytime soon. But, when she whispered that she loved him, he lost the control he'd been hanging onto by a thread.

Booth flipped her over onto her back, taking control. He began to thrust deeper, harder, more quickly. She matched him stroke for stroke. They'd always enjoyed a certain synchronicity in their interactions and apparently that carried through to their lovemaking too. "Bones . . . Oh, God."

"Booth . . so good. Can't wait much longer."

"Don't wait. I'm with you. Let go. Cum for me."

He felt her back arch as her body went rigid and the walls of her sheath clamped down on him, triggering his own release. They shattered together in perfect accompaniment to one another.

As their movements slowed and their bodies began to cool, Booth pulled out of her and rolled onto his back, bringing Brennan with him, close to his chest. "Damn, Bones," he huffed, still slightly out of breath.

Brennan crossed her hands on his chest and propped her chin on them, looking up at him with a satisfied smile. "So, you're not angry with me for kidnapping you?"

Booth laughed. "No. If this is how you exorcise your urges for criminal activities, count me in anytime."

THE END

A/N: Thanks for reading. I always love to hear your thoughts! Please recall that this is a work of fiction and this author does not recommend, condone, or promote the practice of kidnapping FBI agents, no matter how hot they are.