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It had started out innocently enough. Booth and Brennan had decided to have a barbeque and had invited all of her interns, Cam, Hodgins and Angela plus Sweets and several FBI agents over for a little Saturday get together. Booth had grilled up steaks, ribs, hamburgers, hotdogs, corn and potatoes. Brennan had decided to make several different kinds of salads and everything was ready when their company had arrived.
After everyone had eaten their fill, Wendell decided to try to get a game of flag football started. The teams were split up and to Angela's amusement it was FBI against Squints. Hodgins had protested rather loudly that the FBI Agents were all bigger than everyone on his team were, so the FBI weren't really playing fair. Booth, sitting on a lawn chair watching Hodgins and Harris arguing, grew bored with their shouting and closed his eyes to take a little nap. Much to his anger, Booth was shortly drawn into the argument by being hauled to his feet by Agents Harris and Holtz and told that he had to play with the squints, so that they would quit complaining and actually play the game.
Protesting that he was too tired to play, Booth had told the Agents that he didn't want to play, but Harris insisted that a good host would make sure that everyone was having a good time. A little insulted about the implication that he wasn't a good host, Booth agreed to play.
The game had gone as predicted. Booth was good, but he couldn't win the game by himself and although Wendell was a fairly decent athlete, hockey was his sport, not football. Booth had handled the ball most of the time for the Squints and towards the end of the game, Booth was running with the ball when Agent Brown, getting a little carried away, forgot the rules of flag football and tackled Booth instead of grabbing for his towel. Booth, not expecting to be tackled, found himself falling down with Brown holding onto his waist. Going down, Booth, held onto the ball, landed on his side with his right arm under the ball and his weight and Brown's weight putting too much pressure on his right arm.
Pleased that he'd stopped Booth, Brown stood up, leaned over to help Booth stand up and grew pale when he saw Booth's arm. Booth reaching up realized that there was something wrong with his arm. Pain radiating from his elbow to his wrist, he swallowed and sat up, wary that the pain was intensifying. Wary, Booth looked closer at his arm and realized that it looked odd . . . too odd.
Nervously, Booth looked around the crowded back yard and spotted Brennan walking towards him. "I need you to look at my arm, Bones. It looks weird."
Brennan walking over quickly to where Booth was sitting on the ground, knelt down next to him, put her right hand under his right arm and looked at it. Frowning, she looked at Booth and informed him, "We need to go to the emergency room, Booth."
Booth gingerly got up from the ground, held his right arm against his chest with his left hand and followed Brennan around the side of the house to the car. It was decided to leave Christine at home and Cam would stay to look after her while everyone else cleaned up the back yard and went home.
Booth had been in the emergency room for about four hours when he had finally been released. He had suffered a fractured ulna and his right lower arm had been put into a cast. He had really hated to hear that he needed a cast because the last time he'd had to wear one, the itching had driven him to distraction. Of course, his putting things into his cast to scratch his skin had driven Brennan to distraction.
Because Booth was in pain, Brennan had stopped at the pharmacist to fill a prescription for pain medicine. Booth, not wanting to sit in the store, stayed in the truck and stared at the passing traffic until Brennan came back. Feeling dull, Booth hadn't really noticed Brennan was in the truck again until she tapped his left shoulder, handed him a pill and then a bottle of water. Looking at the pill, Booth had stared at it until Brennan told him that it worked better in his body than in his hand. Putting the pill in his mouth, he chased it down with a swig of water. Holding the water bottle in his hand, Booth continued to look at the passing traffic as Brennan started up the truck and drove them home.
Arriving home, Brennan had parked the truck in the driveway and then walked around the truck to open the door for Booth, so he could get out of the truck. Opening the door, she leaned into the truck and frowned at her partner. "Booth we're home. You can get out of the truck now."
Surprised she was standing next to him, Booth turned to look at Brennan and fussed at her. "Bones, there you are. Where've you been Bones?"
Not sure what Booth was talking about, Brennan answered him. "I walked around the truck."
A goofy smile on his face, Booth stared at the house and cocked his head to the side. "Oh, that's nice. Where are we? I thought we were going home."
Confused, Brennan shook her head. "We are home. Don't you recognize the house? . . . Okay, you can get out of the truck."
Scratching the end of his nose, Booth looked at Brennan and ordered her, "Stand back Bones. I might fall out of the truck. I can't feel my legs. Is that normal? How come I can't feel my legs when I broke my arm? Is my legs attached to my arm? That isn't a real thing is it? I can't feel my legs, Bones. How come I can't feel my legs?"
Worried that Booth was acting so strangely, Brennan stepped back one pace. Far enough to allow him room to leave the truck, but close enough to try to keep him from falling. "You must be suffering some side effects from the pain medication you took. Your legs are not attached to your arm. They're fine. You just need to be careful when you get out of the truck. You're sense of balance may be off."
Warily, Booth reached down with his left hand and touched his legs. Relieved, he looked at Brennan and winked at her."You're right, they're still there. That's good. I wasn't sure."
Carefully, Booth moved his lower legs so that they were facing the door and then slid out of the truck. Watching his feet, Booth asked Brennan, "How can I walk if I can't feel my feet? I can't feel those either Bones. Did you know I can't feel my feet?"
Her arm around Booth's waist, Brennan tried to get him to walk towards the house. "Slowly walk to the house, Booth. You should be able to walk that far."
Hearing the front door open, Brennan saw Wendell walk over to them. Wendell, looking at Booth's drunken stance, put his arm around Booth's shoulders and offered, "Let me help, Dr. Brennan. You just follow behind just in case he starts to fall. I think we can get him into the house with no problem."
Appreciating his help, Brennan smiled at her intern. "Booth is reacting to his pain meds."
Booth, looking at Wendell, decided to talk to the younger man. "Hey Wendell, did you know my feet are missing?"
Amused at Booth's condition, Wendell assured him, "No they're still there. If you look down you'll see them."
Puzzled, Booth looked down and then back up at the intern. "Hey, hey, Bones, where are you Bones?"
Her hand on Booth's lower back, Brennan tried to get him to keep moving. "I'm behind you, Booth. Walk to the house. I'll follow you."
Nodding his head slowly, Booth started to walk leaning on the intern. "Okay."
His gaze on his feet while he walked to the door, Booth moved them carefully, lifting them higher than he normally would. Arriving at the front doorway, Wendell let go of Booth and stood behind him. Booth, seeing the door was open, walked through the doorway and stopped when he found himself in the living room. Looking around, Booth panicked when he didn't see Brennan. "Where are we? Bones, where are you? Where are we?"
Gently pushing Booth towards the couch, Brennan sighed, "Walk over to the couch and sit down, Booth. You're home. This is our house."
Booth walked over to the couch, sat down and then looked up at Wendell and Brennan. "You can't trick me. This is my house. I recognize that chair over there."
"Yes, we can't trick you, Booth." Annoyed that Booth's physician had been careless when prescribing his meds, Brennan vowed to call him as soon as possible.
Cam walking down the stairs, looked at Booth's case and exhaled deeply. "I guess he broke something after all."
Looking over at Cam, Booth frowned at the sight of his friend. "Hey, I thought I was in our house. Bones, I thought you said we're home. How come my chair is at Cam's house?"
A little shocked, Cam slowly shook her head. "Oh, boy."
Nodding her head, Brennan informed the coroner, "This will be the only time, Booth ever takes this particular pain medication."
Her gaze taking in Booth's condition, Cam offered, "I think I'll stay the night and look after Christine while you look after Booth. You're going to have your hands full."
Amazed at Booth's glazed eyes and slack features, Wendell studied the agent and commented, "He looks like he's been on an all day drinking binge."
Jerking his head up, Booth growled, "Watch it Wendell I'm not too drunk that I can't kick your ass. Bones, I haven't been drinking have I? I don't remember drinking. I think Wendell got me drunk, Bones. You need to kick his ass because I can't feel my feet."
Pushing Wendell towards the front door, Brennan decided the intern better leave. "Thank you Wendell. I think you'd better leave now."
Angry with the younger man, Booth called out, "Yeah, go home Wendell. You can get into trouble getting me drunk behind my back you know. It's probably a crime."
Startled, Booth jerked his head and looked at his favorite chair. "Bones, did you see that? Shit! Why is my chair moving?"
Shaking her head, Cam sighed. "God, this is going to be a long night."
I actually had this happen to me once when I took Darvon for a severe case of tonsillitis. Freaked my parents out. Didn't do me a lot of good either. Ha Ha