Here's another chapter to this one. Thank you for the continuing reviews. They've been great and a real inducement to continue with this story. Gregg.
Disclaimer: I don't own, or profit from, these characters or franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Booth had to admire Bones. She'd come up with a logical excuse to give Daisy to explain the real cattle prod, and the younger, extremely hyper woman had bought it hook, line, and sinker. Now he had his own apology to dish out. Oh, he could say that everything that had happened to Sweets over the last year had been the young lads own damn fault, and he sincerely believed that. You don't take on a mission and then bitch about the personal consequences, after all. What he was willing to cop an apology to was the whole cattle prod bit, even though that was all Bones. That was just a bit too much icing on the proverbial cake for all of Sweets' bullshit over the years. So, fruit basket in hand, he opened the door to Sweets' hospital room and walked in.
"Hey Sweets!" he said in a cheerful tone. "How ya doing?"
Sweets, who felt like his balls were the size of grapefruit and hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, looked at Booth incredulously. "How am I?" he asked somewhat sarcastically.
"Well, yeah," Booth said as he set down the fruit basket. "You are in the hospital, and I brought you a get well soon fruit basket, so I'm asking how you are."
"I get my balls zapped with a live cattle prod and the man asks me how I am," Sweets muttered.
"I've spent a year going through absolute Hell, and just when I think the nightmare is over, AFTER the two of you screw your brains out in MY office, I get nailed in the balls with a cattle prod provided, no less, by Dr. Brennan! So tell me, Booth, just how should I feel?"
"Proud of a job well done and a mission accomplished?" Booth offered. "Because I gotta say, Sweets, Daddy is very happy this morning."
"I'm so happy for you," Sweets muttered.
"I heard that, DADDY," Bones said as she stuck her head in the door and then back out again.
Booth cringed. "Damn," he muttered now. "She must have some sort of bug on me."
"No, she just knows you too well," Sweets chuckled. "Now back to my problem," he maneuvered the discussion.
"What problem?" Booth asked, feigning ignorance. He could care less about the walking pimple's problems, though he felt for the guy on the whole cattle prod business. He made a mental note to get Bones a bouquet of daisies and such in order to stay on her good side. No sense in risking his own cajones, was there?
"I have just spent a year in Hell, Booth," Sweets said firmly. "A year. I think I have some payback coming my way."
"Payback?" Booth spluttered. "What did I do?"
Sweets looked at him incredulously. "What did you do? What about that whole bullshit assignment of making damn sure that Dr. Brennan remained celibate while she was at the dig? What about all the trouble I went through during that time? I had to endure a 1o hour hard on. I had to be Dr. Brennan's personal assistant, and that is not easy considering her standards. I got torched by a flying tiki torch and am only now growing back a little bit of hair. I had to endure over twenty hours on a plane next to Dr. Brennan enduring a lecture the whole way on professional ethics and responsibility. And to top it all off, Dr. Brennan gave Daisy a real cattle prod and I got my balls zapped! ALL of that is your fault, Booth!"
"No it's-" Booth tried to start.
"Can it, Booth, it's all your fault," Sweets dug in his heels. "This has been the worst year if my life, and it all began with your so called assignment that you gave me. Now you get to do something for me."
"Get real, Sweets," Booth snorted.
"Or I tell Dr. Brennan about you actually using psychology on your cases instead of a hard science and facts," Sweets added.
That made Booth pause. Bones had already pissed Bones off once, and the result had been him playing horsey for a night. Not too fun in his opinion, though the more sexual activities had sure been awesome. If she thought for even a second that he was using psychology instead of something more tangible, no matter how ridiculous the notion was and the fact that Sweets would be lying his ass off, then he'd be praying to get back to the good old days of horsey play. Bones had a serious revenge streak running through her, he was discovering.
"Okay what's on your mind," he sighed. It really sucked when a 12 year old Geek had you by the balls.
"No cell phones at all are to be on when we have our three sessions a week," Sweets demanded.
"Oh, well, Bones will have hers," Booth nodded.
"Hers are to be off, too," Sweets told him.
"Damn."
"One completed trust building exercise per session, with no complaints or snide comments," Sweets continued.
"That takes all the fun out of it!" Booth protested.
"And you think that concerns me?" Sweets asked, an evil look on his face.
"Killjoy," Booth muttered.
"I expect both of you to fill out another questionnaire and also maintain a journal for the next six months," Sweets concluded.
"A JOURNAL?" Booth said loudly. "I've got enough damn paperwork as it is!"
"Uh, Dr. Brennan?" Sweets called out in a louder voice.
"Deal!" Booth said instantly before Bones could respond.
"Did you need something Sweets?" Bones asked as she came into the hospital room. "Oh, Daisy said she would be right back. Something about making sure that the Doctors have you on the right medications."
"Oh, nothing," Sweets told her. I was just getting tired and wanted to thank you and Booth for coming to see me."
"You're welcome," she replied. She noticed that Booth looked a bit nervous, so she decided to speed things along, as well. She had some more sexual activities mapped out for them, after all. "Are you ready, Booth?"
"Right behind you, Bones," Booth said as he was out of his chair like a shot. "Gotta go, Sweets. Take care of the nads, Buddy."
Sweets grimaced as he was once more reminded of his injury. He leaned back in the bed wondering if blackmailing Booth was such a good idea. That man could make him miserable, and he had a distinct feeling that his time in Hell might not be over. Oh, well. He did wrangle a promise of good, sound therapy from Booth, which meant that their asses were his three times a week. Maybe he could make them feel a little of Satan's fire for a change.
A/N: Short, I know, but I think a bit of fun. I think I'm going to finish the story with one more chapter where Booth and Bones get even for all the therapy conditions imposed on them. What do you think? Gregg.