Booth let his partner sleep while he made his way to the kitchen. This was the second time in twelve hours that he'd cooked for her, and he loved it. He enjoyed the activity of the thing, and doing that service for Bones seemed like the most natural thing in the world. He left the kitchen door open as he worked away and by the time he'd piled a huge stack of pancakes on a plate next to the stove he heard bare feet padding down the hallway behind him. He smiled. Booth had discovered long ago exactly how long it took for the smell of pancakes to drift down to Parker's bedroom, and he knew that it was an absolutely surefire way to get his son out of bed. Apparently it worked with forensic anthropologists too.
Booth glanced over his shoulder, noting how gorgeous she looked in his pajamas with her hair all a mess, "You look like you're feeling stronger this morning."
"I definitely am. I am also famished," she pronounced the last word with particular emphasis.
"Good, because I have a surplus of pancakes here." Booth turned off the stove and dropped the spatula in the pan. "Wanna bring those out to the table?" He nodded at the plate of steaming goodness. "I'll grab us some plates and juice."
She inhaled the scent that rose from the plate in her hands as she walked into the dining room, placing it on the center of the table. Just behind her came Booth, piled comically high with plates, glasses, utensils and a carton of orange juice. Somehow, he managed to put it all down without breaking anything and then barreled back into the kitchen, returning this time with a plate of smoked sausages and a new bottle of blueberry syrup.
"This looks great, Booth," she said with a smile as she helped him set the table. "You went to all this trouble just for me?"
"Eh, it looks like more work than it is," he shrugged and poured two glasses of orange juice.
"All the same, I'll wash all the dishes when we're done."
Booth plopped into his chair and shook his head. "Nope."
"What? Why not?"
"Are you feeling completely, one hundred percent better?" Booth fixed her with an unblinking stare.
Brennan considered lying, but in the end decided against it. "Not quite."
"Well then I'm still taking care of you. I'll clean up our breakfast and you can rest."
She shot him a look.
"Look, Bones, I know it's not in your nature, but just go with it. When the day comes that I'm horrifically injured on the job, you can take care of me and we'll call it even."
She took a sip of the juice he'd placed before her and said, "It may be a long time before we're even."
Booth sighed and leaned forward on his elbows, "Here's the way I see it. You're my friend, Bones. When I do things for my friends I don't expect repayment. The people I choose for friends tend to have a similar mindset and wind up doing things for me, again not expecting repayment. It all balances out in the end, it's an equal relationship, and there's no point keeping tally. I know that you would always go out of your way to help me, because you already have, so a future kindness is as good as a past kindness in my mind."
Brennan smiled at him. It sounded like a wonderful way to live. She picked up her fork and moved to cut into her pancakes.
"Oooh, wait!" Booth practically leapt out of his seat in his enthusiasm. "You can't forget the syrup. Parker loves this stuff." He struggled for a moment with the seal on the new bottle.
"Blueberry?"
He finally managed to get it open. "Yeah, I have no idea who came up with it, but they're sheer genius." Booth leaned over and completely doused the pile of pancakes on her plate with the sticky, bluish-brown liquid, then did the same with his own.
"That's a lot of sugar, Booth," Brennan raised an eyebrow at the food before her.
"Yes it is," he replied with a subtle hint of boyish glee. "Okay, now you can dig in."
They each took a bite. Brennan's eyebrows went up again, now in surprise, "Huh, not bad."
Booth nodded, apparently unable to speak through a mouthful of pancakes and sausage.
She took a few more bites and said, "It's still way too sweet, though. No wonder Parker's so energetic. All this sugar? I can already feel the rush." Brennan did feel a rush, but after several minutes, it didn't seem much like sugar. It had begun to burn and her stomach began to quiver. She put down her fork and pushed back her chair. "I'm just going to go to the bathroom."
Booth looked up at her, eyes far too energetic for this hour of the morning. "You alright?"
"Yeah, I think I might have been eating too fast. I'm... not feeling so well."
Booth watched in concern as his partner disappeared down the hall and decided to let her have a few minutes to herself. These pancakes were really good, he thought as he shoveled more into his mouth. He must have been eating too quickly though, because he was beginning to notice a bit of a headache. It wasn't until his stomach gave a sudden wrench of pain that his limbs stopped dead.
No. No, it couldn't be, he thought to himself. A dizzy spell was beginning to surround his head and as his stomach continued to twist he couldn't deny it anymore. He'd felt this before...
Booth looked around with speed and stepped carefully toward his cell phone on the counter. He moved to hit speed dial 2, but his now uncoordinated digits accidentally pressed 1 and his phone flashed "BONES" on its face. A curse escaped his lips as he hit the end call button and more carefully pressed 2. "FBI DISPATCH" appeared on the screen.
"This is Special Agent Seeley Booth. I believe my partner and I have been poisoned. We're at my home," his speech slowed as he forced his feet in the direction of the bathroom. "I'm recognizing symptoms of arsenic ingestion." The phone slipped from his hand and crashed to the floor halfway down the hall while he moved onward, stomach lurching painfully.
Gotta get to Bones. Gotta stay awake.
He pushed open the door to find his partner, pale-faced, bent over the toilet. She looked up at him from the pancakes and blood with red sparkling eyes and pleaded weakly, "Booth..."
Suddenly, her body began to spasm and her head began to fall toward the edge of the bathtub. Booth was surprised how quickly his hindered body had caught her, but once he was halfway to the floor, he wasn't able to stop himself and his shoulder rammed into the side of the bath like a freight train.
Gotta stay awake til they get here.
He shifted until he was seated against the bathtub and held Brennan's seizing frame to his body. At least she couldn't hit her head again this way. Booth's stomach churned and he turned his head to vomit into the tub behind him as she shook in his arms.
Blood. This is not good. Gotta stay awake.
She slowly stilled. Though she didn't regain consciousness immediately, her lungs were heaving, and her voice made the most horrifyingly pained sounds that had ever reached Booth's ears. As carefully as his crippled arms could manage, he turned her so that she leaned perpendicular into him, with her shoulder in his chest. As she rotated, her head moved limply, hanging oddly like a bobble head pulled off its spring. She gurgled and coughed blood onto his shirt and he wiped it from her mouth, clearing her airway while fear threatened to overtake him.
Gotta stay awake. He willed back the shadowy veil that was beginning to fall over his eyes and focused on his partner. Gotta stay awake. Gotta keep Bones breathing.
It appeared that she'd regained just a bit of consciousness, and she began to murmur in a tone Booth had never heard from her. It was quiet and low and shaking with fear, and all he could discern was his own name muttered over and over again. He tightened his arms around her.
Just as he was about to try to speak to her, his stomach unexpectedly lurched again and he turned his head once again to vomit violently. It felt as though he were retching all of his innards out. His mind threatened to follow.
No. Gotta stay awake. Gotta keep Bones alive.
His head was getting heavier than he could hold and he let it fall down near his partner's ear. Now words came in response to her own frightened utterance, whispered words of comfort in his low frail voice. "They're on their way. Help will be here soon. Just stay with me, Bones. Stay with me, Bones. Stay with me."
It was his new mantra to remain conscious, chanting comfort in her ear while his mind prayed for deliverance. It was all he could do.
Distantly, he heard his front door being kicked in. Thank God. "They're here, Bones. It'll be alright."
When the paramedics filled the frame of his bathroom door, he found himself unable to raise his head and the last thing he saw was his partner's dreadfully pale face leaning against his chest before blackness engulfed him.
see what too much sugar gets you? poisoned. trouble came quicker than you thought? yeah, we don't mess around here.
having never actually been poisoned myself, and having limited knowledge of it, i'm taking what i assume are some liberties with timing of the symptoms. (also selectively avoiding a few of the symptoms of arsenic poisoning)
we will get back to fluff and to smut as well eventually and ultimately (note the title of the story!) ...okay we'll actually get back there dare i say soon, but i did list this story as partly drama for a reason.
reviews make me happy, and when i'm happy, i write faster! so click the button and tell me what you think!
