The standard disclaimer applies: All characters are property of Dick Wolf and NBC Universal. Not mine, not making money.
"In Sickness"
It started the morning the trial began.
Connie stumbled out of bed and towards the kitchen, where a pot of coffee was ready for her. She felt feverish, but there was no time to be sick – opening statements were today, and Mike expected her to do a cross-examination or two. She had to be on her game.
After finishing her coffee, she entered the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet. She took out the digital thermometer and inserted the device into her ear, waiting for the beep.
99.1 degrees – a little high, but nothing to worry about.
She showered and dressed.
The defense finished with its direct examination. Connie stood up.
"Mr. Lee," she began. "Is it not correct that you drove Mr. Stillman to the victim's apartment building on the night of the murder?"
The witness looked down, refusing to answer.
"Permission to treat the witness as hostile, Your Honor?" Connie asked.
"So granted," said the judge.
"Mr. Lee, the defendant asked you for a ride to the victim's apartment building, so –"
A series of sneezes interrupted Connie's questioning. She excused herself and regained her composure, but the dramatic effect was completely gone.
"Nice job in court today," Mike said, sitting down next to Connie's desk.
Connie leaned back in her chair, sighing. "Too bad I ruined it by sneezing."
Mike smiled. "That can happen to the best of us. At least it wasn't a burp."
She reached for the box of Kleenex on her desk. Her nose was beginning to run, her throat was getting sore, and her eyes were red and itchy. And she didn't look her best.
It was not lost on Mike. "Are you getting sick?"
"No, I'll be fine." Connie wasn't about to let a cold derail her.
Connie woke up the next morning feeling like death warmed over.
Her nose was completely stuffed, her throat was so sore she could barely talk, and her muscles ached. This wasn't a cold, it was an all-out case of the flu.
Still, this was an important trial, and she was needed in court. Thank God that she wasn't to do any questioning today – she could just sit and take notes.
She pulled herself together as best as she could, stuffed some Kleenex in her pockets, and hailed a taxi to Centre Street.
"I'm here," she rasped to Mike, before coughing.
"Connie, you're sick," Mike said during recess. "Go home."
"I can't," she said, forcing the words out. "You need me here because I interviewed most of the witnesses on your list –"
"I can do without you for one day. And I'm going to end up catching it."
She looked at him guiltily – the last thing she wanted was to pass her germs on to other people, especially Mike, but she felt that she didn't have a choice.
"Please, Connie. I can take care of this, trust me."
"Okay," she said, reaching for her briefcase.
"Get some rest," Mike advised.
Connie went home and crashed for hours, until she was awakened by the sound of her apartment door opening.
Startled, she sat up, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. It couldn't be Mike – he'd still be in court. Her sister was the only other person who had a key, but it wasn't like her to stop by without calling first.
She was about to dial 911 when Mike entered the room.
"Special delivery," he said, holding up a drugstore bag. "I have Kleenex, VapoRub, NyQuil, and an inhaler for your nose. Stock in Vicks just went up."
Connie smiled.
"Shouldn't you still be in court?" Connie asked.
Mike applied the VapoRub to her bare back. "Early adjournment. The last witness for the defense didn't bother to show up."
"And you said that you didn't want to get sick – achoo!"
"Yeah, well, I was exposed this morning. There's no harm in hanging around you now."
"I'm sorry," Connie said. "I hope you don't catch this."
"Apology accepted. But remember, I'm still your boss – and I order you to stay at home until you're one hundred percent better."
"Agreed."
finis