I've always wondered how Booth would spend the immediate aftermath of the case where Bones informed him in that wonderful way of hers that by eating non-organic foods he was risking genital shrinkage. Granted, he would likely react with reasonable good humor, but where's the fun in that? Here's my take on a more humorous, extreme reaction. I hope you enjoy it. Gregg.
Disclaimer: I don't own, or profit from, these characters or franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Booth couldn't believe that he was even doing this. Bones, though, bless her pretty little head, had gone and let him know that Junior may be in jeopardy due to his not being willing to spend obscene amounts of money for organic foods. That had been three days ago. The first night he'd been mildly concerned, but brushed it off as a load of bullshit designed to get him flustered. The second night he'd begun worrying even more. Bones wasn't one to make up anything to do with science, though. That meant that damn study may very well be real. The third day was when he really began to sweat it. All damn day he was shifting in his seat, asking himself if he'd noticed anything off in Juniors, uh, pep, the last time he'd risen to any occasion. By the end of work that day he'd rushed home, even cranking on the siren a couple of times to get the granny drivers out of the damn way. He had some serious questions to be resolved after all! Now he was standing in his bathroom without a stitch on, hard as a freaking diamond cutter (after imagining scenario #453 in his Bones fantasy file), with a 12 inch ruler in hand measuring Junior. He had done this once before when he was drunk in college, and he was sure Junior hadn't grown since then, but he was also making damn sure that the Big Guy hadn't lost any of his luster. Okay, set end of ruler right there, making sure it was in the same spot as last time, take a look at the measurement prepared to gloat, and...
"SHIT!" came an anguished shout from Booth's apartment that could be heard in the street below.
Booth came out of the bathroom a little pale and shaky. An eighth of an inch. He'd measured three times after almost having a massive stroke. Junior had shrunk an eighth of an inch! He specifically remembered that Junior stood a proud and tall eight and one-quarter inches in college and now he was a paltry eight and one-eighth inches. The Big Guy had shrunk! He was a damn legend in college, and now that legend was showing some less than legendary statistics. Now who is to blame for all this? He had to blame someone. Yes, all that high living on cheap food was the likely culprit, but this calamity had to be blamed on someone! For now, though, he had a mission. All that food in his apartment had to go, the filthy homewreckers! And he'd just spent almost two hundred dollars on groceries the other day! Shit!
Two hours later, after emptying all his cupboards and fridge and freezer of all non-organic food, and making a list of all the stuff he needed to replace, he found himself in the same store that Bones used. My GOD! He wanted to pull out his issue handgun and shoot the owner of the store for charging absolutely obscene and totally unrealistic prices for the food in question. He was even more enraged when the total was rung up. Nine hundred ten dollars! For two weeks worth of groceries! He had to pull out his credit card to pay for all that shit!
When he got home he put everything away slamming cupboard doors, cursing the food up one end and down the other, and making an all around ass of himself. Yes, he had good reason to be a bit perturbed, but his neighbors shouldn't have to suffer for his issues. When he got done he glared at all the food he was getting rid of, sitting in the boxes on his counter and dinner table. He had only spent about two hundred dollars on that. At the rate he was going he was going to soon be tapping his retirement money in order to pay for the food he'd be needing from now on to keep Junior safe.
"You better be damn appreciative of what I'm sacrificing for you and cut out all this shrinkage bullshit," he said to his now less than perfectly glorious appendage.
He looked back up at the food he needed to get rid of. There was no way he could be honest about why he was giving away perfectly good food, even if it was a pure homewrecker. There was only one person who desperately needed the Shrunken Genital Delight. Sweets! Even though he had just met the Little Pimple a few days before, he just knew that the 12 year old had nothing worth mentioning below the belt, so some shrunken genitals wouldn't be a problem. The kid probably would spout some sick, perverted Freudian hooey to say shrunken genitals were the best thing since sliced bread! Now that was just total bullshit! If the kid could justify shrunken genitals, then Bon Appétit! He'd just tell him that he'd won a free shopping spree somewhere and decided to offer some free food to him. Maybe grease the skids a bit to get out of some of that counseling bullshit.
Taking out his cell phone he sent a text to Bones.
Bones. Next time you have some fascinating study to mention that has anything to do with the continued well being of a guy's manhood, please keep it to yourself. Ignorance is bliss. Booth.
PS~ We will be reviewing appropriate partnerly conversations for the SUV when on the way to and from crime scenes. Key ingredient: IGNORANCE TRULY IS BLISS. Plus it's a Hell of a lot less expensive.
PSS~ If, HYPOTHETICALLY, shrinkage occurs, can it be reversed? Just curious.
After sending it, he made a quick call to Sweets and let him know that he had some free food for him. Sweets, being a relatively new worker with college debt up the ass, was pleased as punch. Booth chuckled as he pulled out a beer and sat down turning on the TV. He took a sip and glared. He'd been stunned to find organic beer, so he'd had to hold back tears as he paid the exorbitant price for it.
"Doesn't even taste any different!" he said disgustedly. "For that price it should taste like the most delicious delicacy in the world!" His phone pinged and he checked the incoming text message. It was from Bones. It had one word.
No.
"Damn!" He took another pull at his beer and settled in for a thoroughly depressing weekend.
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this short, more extreme reaction from Booth. Of course he wouldn't react this way, but it is a fun scene to imagine. I should have a new chapter to An End To Celibacy in the next couple of days, and hopefully a new chapter to The Election of Pope Mitch. Gregg.