A/N: This is for my TwitterMom and go-to beta: Someonetookmyname. She cashed in her JPs (Jenny Points) for a Rescue!Booth request (like in Aliens, but without the laughing in the coal pit). My original intent was to make the JP fics oneshots, but we all know how that turned out with "You and Tequila" so here we go again. What can I say? My friends know how to make a prompt go on forever. They are shifty bitches like that. (But that's also why I adore them so.) This takes place sometime after 'The Man In The Cell' in Season Two and let's pretend the Gravedigger never happened or this would be a very traumatized team.

OOOOO

Friday evening

Panic.

Blinding, terrifying, sheer panic.

That was the only emotion coursing through Booth's system as he saw her car in the Jeffersonian lot. The driver's side door was ajar and her keys were still in the door. She had been unlocking her vehicle. The other agents and Jeffersonian security were already on the scene and they were keeping him back. He heard Angela's stifled gasp behind him and he whipped around.

"Get back in the lab. Do not leave. Not even with security." Angela nodded. He didn't bother saying anything to comfort her. He was already in army mode.

"Get me that security footage. Now." He commanded.

He had a partner to find.

OOOOO

Friday evening

Brennan reached up and touched her blood-matted hair on the back of her aching head. She wasn't sure how long she had been unconscious but the van was still moving. For all she knew, she could have only been out for a few minutes. She listened hard for any signs of her captors or sounds of the city but everything was quiet. Too quiet. She opened her eyes slowly and realized that the back of the van that she was in was soundproofed. Her kidnappers could have been shouting in the front seat and she would never know.

She wasn't sure if she should be grateful for the time to gather her thoughts and prepare a plan or if she should be nervous by the fact that they were already a step ahead of her. They had to be professionals.

She pulled some of the fibers off the wall and stuck them in her pocket. If she got out of this, Hodgins could analyze them. Or even if she didn't for that matter. Would they let her team perform her autopsy? She pushed the morose thought aside and focused on the rational. It was easier to focus on the rational.

Why would anyone send professionals to kidnap her?

A case she had worked on, maybe? They hadn't solved any gang or mob cases recently. She hadn't been brought in by any governments to analyze any genocides or guerrilla-connected bodies in years. Ironically, now that she was working with Booth and the FBI, she was safer than she had ever been.

Maybe it wasn't case-related, maybe it was because she was a famous author. She mentally reviewed the latest threats her publisher had received on her most recent press tour. They had been sloppy for the most part: fanatical fans who wanted attention. The threats hadn't been taken seriously by anyone, let alone her. She might have been targeted for her money, but anyone who knew she had money also knew that she didn't really have a family to contact.

Her family.

Professional criminals.

The light bulb clicked as she connected the dots. Were they looking for Max? Russ? She knew that had to be the reason; nothing else fit. If they were hoping to grill her for information they were out of luck. She knew nothing of their whereabouts. She had nothing to share. Then again, maybe just her body was enough. The fastest way to Max had always been through his family.

The van slowed and she laid back down, certain that if she could play dead long enough, she could gather some relevant information. Maybe find out what they wanted from her. She had to be prepared for when Booth found her.

Booth.

She was supposed to be meeting him after work. He would already know that she was missing.

Or he might think that she had changed her mind and stood him up. The thought sent her into a momentary panic. If he thought that she had stood him up, he would be too proud to try and talk to her. It was Friday night. No one would miss her until Monday. Oh, please don't be that stupid, she silently begged. He had to find her, if only just so she could tell him all of the things that she had never said.

Now she might not get the chance.