This is a humorous one shot that I thought of in a fit of boredom this afternoon. I am still working on the second chapter of Can We Afford This? as the first write up didn't satisfy me so I decided to post this to give you something to have fun with. I hope you enjoy it. Gregg.
Disclaimer: I don't own, or profit from, these characters or franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Bones was walking back to her office when her cell phone rang. The ring tone was Hot Blooded, so she knew it was Booth. She flipped it open and smiled.
"How's your headache, Booth?" she asked. He'd been by earlier and complained of a headache. She'd told him that there was some ibuprofen on her desk and he was welcome to some.
"What the Hell was that shit you gave me?" Booth practically screamed into the phone.
"What are you talking about?" she asked.
"Dr. Brennan?" came another voice.
"Yes," she replied as she entered her office.
"This is Dr. Selvin at GW," the other man told her. "Special Agent Booth has been admitted this afternoon-"
"WHAT?" Bones yelled, instantly panicking.
"At 1:30 this afternoon Special Agent Booth came in with a serious case of an erection that would not go down, despite his, ahem, best efforts, according to him," Dr. Selvin replied, not even using medical terminology as this was mystifying him a bit more than he cared to admit.
"But Booth isn't on any kind of erectile dysfunction medication," Bones said with certainty. She was sure she would know if he was, even though they weren't engaged in a sexual relationship. They'd been dating for a month now, though, so she was sure if he was having such problems he would have told her despite his embarrassment.
"That is what Special Agent Booth is insisting, but there is a drug in his system that we are not able to identify, yet he claims that the only kind of medication he has taken was two ibuprofen tablets you offered him in your office," Dr. Selvin
"I was actually on the lab platform at the Jeffersonian, but there is a bottle of Ibuprofen on my desk that I told him about," she explained. She looked at her desk and then froze. The bottle was there, but the two pills that were also on her desk when she went to the platform that morning were gone. "Please ask him if he by chance took the two pill shaped items on my desk that were near the ibuprofen bottle, Dr.."
"He says he did," Dr. Selvin replied a moment later. "I take it that they weren't ibuprofen."
"No they weren't," she told him. "I am an Anthropologist and one of the scientists who works under me is doing a study with me on fertility and erectile remedies of Mayan culture. He had brought me those pills he had produced to demonstrate how the old remedies could be reproduced using modern techniques. The pills that Dr. Hodgins gave me to examine are a very powerful drug similar to Viagra, but more potent. I would posit that Booth has the equivalent of a Viagra overdose."
"I see," Dr. Selvin said, taking in the explanation. "I will need a chemical breakdown in order to know how to treat this given the fact that the standard treatment is not effective at this point."
"I will fax it immediately," Bones told him. "I will also be right over as soon as I do so with a sample of the drug so your lab may work with it as well."
Dr. Selvin gave her the fax number and told her they would see her when she arrived. Bones faxed it right away and then rushed out of her office with her coat and purse. She did make one stop, though, at Hodgins office.
"From now on do not leave any pills, or other chemical compounds on my desk unless they are properly contained and labeled," she told him firmly.
"Huh?" he asked, confused.
"The pills you synthesized," she told him. "Booth thought they were ibuprofen and took them. He's now at GW suffering from an erection lasting roughly five hours now."
Hodgins paled. "He's going to shoot me, isn't he?" he groaned.
"I think that now would be a good time to go on the three week field survey that you were requested to participate in in Mexico," Bones told him, letting him know by that statement that Booth was indeed not happy. She didn't know if Booth would go so far as to actually shoot Dr. Hodgins, but it was better to err on the side of caution.
"I'll be on the next flight after I tell Angie what's going on," Hodgins decided. He was no dummy. If Booth was on the warpath, then Hodgins was in the front of the line of cowards fleeing the scene to preserve their manhood.
Bones made her way quickly to the hospital and demanded access to Booth. Since she was his medical proxy, and on a list he had drawn up for approved visitors anytime he was in the hospital, she was show right to where he was. Unfortunately he was already asleep.
"Dr. Brennan?" came the voice she had heard on the phone.
"Was Booth given anesthesia?" she asked instantly.
"A mild dose as we looked over his medical files and are aware of his problems with anesthesia," was the reply. "We believe we have a counter agent based on the chemical breakdown you gave us and are now adding it to his IV."
Bones listened to the treatment regimen and then asked to be left alone with Booth as she wanted to sit with him. Selvin readily agreed and she took a seat as soon as the IV had been adjusted. She looked him over and smiled when she saw a very visible tenting of his sheet. It almost seemed liked something you would see in a bad comedy on TV or something. She resisted raising the sheet and his gown to take a firsthand look at his bare erection, though. Not that she wasn't tempted, especially considering the superb view she'd had of him flaccid in his bathroom almost eight months before, but she didn't want Booth to be any more embarrassed than he no doubt already was.
Six hours later Booth was slowly waking up from the anesthesia. Bones had been patiently waiting, and also observing as the tent in the sheet dwindled, for him to wake up. Despite the Doctor's assurances, she had been a bit nervous about the anesthetic. The last time had been horrifying, especially when he woke up and asked her who she was. She now knew what had happened, and now that they were a couple she was going to make sure that nothing like her running to Guatemala and him saying he loved her in an atta girl sorta way happened again. She'd castrate him if he was to do so again.
"Bones?" Booth mumbled groggily.
Bones took his hand and smiled. "I'm right here, Booth," she told him, using her thumb to stroke his knuckles. She loved it when he did that to her, so she decided to return the favor.
"What the Hell did you do to me?" he asked, still groggy, but coherent enough to demand an explanation for the Hell he'd gone through. He'd had to be taken away in an ambulance from the Hoover Building! He was never going to love it down!
"You didn't take the ibuprofen, Booth," she told him.
"Yes I did," he stated quite firmly, though his voice was still a bit rough. "There were a couple laying right out on your desk next to the bottle. They looked just like the ibuprofen tablets I have at home!"
"Actually you took something that Hodgins synthesized and placed on my desk for me to study," Bones replied.
Booth closed his eyes groaned. Through clenched teeth he demanded "Just what the Hell did he synthesize?"
"An ancient Mayan drug that enhanced male erectile function," Bones admitted.
"ANCIENT VIAGRA?" Booth let loose with a shout.
"The dose you took was at least four times the potency of a standard dose of Viagra," she informed him.
"I'll kill him," Booth ground out, his eyes closed.
"Hodgins is on his way to Mexico," Bones told him. She couldn't blame him for being upset, but it was an accident.
"It doesn't matter, Bones," Booth said with some real venom. "Hodgins deserves to pay for this one."
Booth was in the hospital for three days while the medical staff made sure that he was suffering no ill effects from the drug. To say he was a model patient would be a serious overstatement. Bones was forced to acknowledge that for better or worse, Hodgins was going to be the focus of Booth's wrath. As she was driving Booth to her apartment, seeing as his SUV was now at his apartment since it was driven there by an Agent since Booth had "taken ill" at work, she took the time to ascertain his more emotional injury. She may not like psychology, but she had to admit that it did have some valid points now and then. Unfortunately she was too blunt, as usual.
"I think we should have sex," she said when she pulled into her parking space. His answer was less than what she'd hoped, given the fact that they were now in a relationship and she'd been getting increasingly desirous in consummating that relationship.
Booth groaned, a shudder going through him. "Bones," he squeaked, not able to control the pitch of his voice. "I think it's going to be some time before Junior down there is going to want to have anything to do with any extracurricular activities. He's lost a lot of his pep, and frankly, the thought of rising to the occasion makes me a bit nauseous."
Bones could understand, but she was not pleased. She let it go, but decided that they would, together, make Hodgins pay for this one. Especially as she was now going to have to wait even longer to enjoy the pleasure that Booth was sure to provide her with.
"I think Hodgins deserves some back pay," she said firmly, with a frown.
"It's payback, Bones, and he will when I shoot his balls off," Booth corrected as he winced when getting out of the car.
"No, I have a better idea," Bones said with an evil grin.
Two Weeks Later In Mexico:
Jack Hodgins had never been so miserable in his entire life. For the last three days he'd been on his ass in the out door privy that was set up in the jungle area where the field work he'd been requested for was being done. Living in a tent was bad enough, but this? It was horrible. His whole colon and intestinal tract were cramping painfully, he was trying to defecate, but nothing was left to come out, and he was horribly dehydrated. Three days before a shipment of his favorite energy drink was delivered and he'd guzzled more than he'd ever had in his life because he'd been having withdrawals, or it seemed like it. Within an hour of finishing the last one he'd been rushing to the privy and had barely had five minutes to himself since then. The doctor was treating him for dehydration and the aftereffects of his ailment as best he could since he was barely able to get off the pot. He now knew that his favorite energy drink had been laced with a powdered form of GoLightly, the laxative drink that was given to patients who were scheduled for a colonoscopy. An hour ago he'd gotten a note hand delivered that told him that the culprits were none other than Booth and Dr. B. If he by some miracle didn't develop a serious complex about using the toilet, he had the feeling that he would be changing his favorite energy drink. Laced or not, the thought of drinking it made him want to run screaming into the jungle. He made a note to never again synthesize anything. Payback was just too painful if something went wrong.
A/N: At the beginning of WWII in the Fiji Island my friend's father was hired to work for the US military as a cook on a base on another island, but during the physical was given something similar to GoLightly, though he wasn't told what it was for or what to expect. Riding his bicycle home he was seized with a sudden need to find a bathroom, but none was available. By the time he'd gotten home he'd had to run into the bushes five times, and over the next two days he'd almost barricaded himself in the outhouse. I thought of that when I thought of a suitable payback for Hodgins and improvised from there, no matter how unrealistic. I hope you enjoyed this story. Gregg.