"Liv?" Elliot's voice was anxious.
She turned to face him, trying to will her headache away. "Yeah, what is it El?" she failed to keep the irritation out of her voice.
"You look like hell," he said, bluntly. "Go home."
"M'fine," Olivia protested. "Just a headache," she said. "It'll be gone soon."
He looked disbelieving. "So that wasn't you Fin just heard in the bathroom?"
Olivia blinked and stared at him.
"The walls are thin, Liv," Elliot's voice softened. "And Fin says he heard someone getting real sick in the ladies' room just five minutes ago. The only other woman here right now is Cabot, and she's been in Cragen's office for the past hour. And you look just about as bad as I've ever seen. It doesn't take a detective, detective," he smiled kindly.
"I told you," Olivia said, even as her head pounded and her stomach roiled dangerously. She stood up and tried to make her voice sound as strong as possible. "There's nothing wrong... oh God," she turned a sickly shade of green. Clamping her hand to her mouth she bolted for the bathroom, her gait unsteady. Her stomach heaved, and she knew she didn't have time to make it to the bathroom. She flung herself into the janitor's closet. She braced herself against the large square sink as a hot stream of vomit splattered the porcelain. The exertion exacerbated the excruciating pounding in her head, and she was overwhelmed with nausea as she retched again painfully.
In her misery, Olivia was unaware of Elliot's concerned face peering through the doorway at her, nor did she notice him dart away to get help. Her stomach griped again, but she had nothing left to bring up but acid, which burned horribly at the back of her throat. Her legs started to shake and she knew she would pass out if she tried to stay upright. She leaned against the wall and slid, gracelessly, to the floor, feeling worse than she ever had. She managed to draw up her knees and rested her pounding head on her arms.
She tried to steady her breathing, but every breath she took just made the nausea worse. She swallowed carefully, in an attempt to stop her stomach from turning itself outside in, but she could tell she was only moments from losing control. She whimpered miserably.
"Detective Benson?" a soft, gentle voice broke into her misery. She must really be sick, Olivia thought briefly. Now her fantasies about the beautiful ADA were even following her into her delirium.
"Hey," the voice came again. "It's okay, just try to relax," Olivia felt a cool hand against her forehead.
She tried to look up, but could barely lift her head. "Uhhn," she mumbled incoherently, a thick rope of saliva trailing from her mouth as she tried to pull away. The next thing she knew, a bucket miraculously appeared in her lap as her stomach erupted once more.
Olivia was barely aware of a scratchy police blanket being wrapped round her shoulders. "Dr Warner's on her way," Alex Cabot's voice said gently. "She'll be here in ten."
Olivia closed her eyes and leant back against the cool wall, desperately trying to clear her head. She had been in love with Alex Cabot ever since she first set eyes on her three months ago, but she had managed to keep all her fantasies secret. She didn't understand why she was hearing her voice now. The demure ADA was the last person she could imagine would kneel on the floor in a filthy janitor's closet, using her own handkerchief to, horror of horrors, wipe vomit from the chin of someone she hardly knew. But somehow, maybe, it actually was happening.
"Liv?" Olivia heard Elliot's voice. That was more like it. Her partner had always been there for her, and he wouldn't balk at taking care of her when she needed it. She felt a light squeeze on her hand. She opened her eyes, and saw him in front of her, looking very concerned. "Liv, I'm just gonna carry you to the couch, okay?"
Olivia's stomach twisted horribly. "No," she gasped weakly. "No moving," she begged, swallowing in an attempt to calm her roiling gut. "Please," her words were barely audible.
"Just let her be for a few moments," it was Alex's voice again, quietly authoritative. "She needs to settle."
Olivia felt a warm body sit carefully next to her, leaning against the wall. A slim arm snaked round her shoulders and, instinctively, Olivia leant into the warm embrace.
"She's shaking," the Alex apparition said. "And she's burning up. Is there another blanket?"
A second blanket was draped carefully over Olivia, who was suddenly overcome with a bone-deep exhaustion. Her stomach seemed to have calmed a little, and she became aware of a terrible feeling of cold as well as gnawing pain in her joints which spread rapidly throughout her whole body. She felt herself being pulled gently into a warm lap. "Shh," a voice said quietly. "Try to stay calm. You'll be okay."
a$a$a$a$a$
Alex Cabot was at a loss for words. In the last few weeks, she had used any pretext she could find to spend time at the precinct. She had initially tried to kid herself that it was purely because she wanted to do the best that she could in her job as ADA. But eventually she had to admit to herself that she was spending more time at the one-six than she had at any other precincts in any of her previous positions. No, she knew that her overriding motivation was to be in the presence of a certain brunette detective. Even a glimpse of the beautiful Detective Benson was enough to make any day a good one.
So on this Friday night, she had dropped in on the way home, ostensibly to deliver her findings on a case to Captain Cragen. She had not bargained on being stuck in his office for over an hour, having her ear chewed off about an old case. She had barely even seen Olivia before she was ushered into the closed office; the detective had had her head down over her desk, her body language more tired and defeated than usual. But then it was after 9pm, and Alex was willing to bet a substantial sum that the brunette had been at work since 7am at the latest.
Despite her thoughts being more on her fantasy woman than on Cragen's words, she had still been very startled when Elliot had burst into Cragen's office. "Call Warner," he had yelled. "Olivia's sick."
Alex had leapt to her feet, and run after Elliot as he sprinted back to the janitor's closet. "Let me," she told him as she saw Olivia slide unceremoniously to the floor. She saw her gag convulsively, and managed to get a bucket under her chin just in time.
a$a$a$a$a$
Olivia stayed wrapped in Alex's warm arms as Warner examined her. "Another one," Warner said tiredly. "That's the third I've seen today, and it's not even my job! It's okay, Liv," she said gently as Olivia whimpered as she took her temperature. "It won't last; 24 hours, 36 at the most. It's a vicious bug," she explained to Elliot and Alex. "Seems to be going round. Nausea, high fever. I'm giving her an analgesic," she said as she drew up a syringe. "Then it's rest and fluids. She lives alone, so we should get her admitted, at least for a couple of nights. She shouldn't be left."
Warner's last sentence somehow penetrated the fog of Olivia's brain. "No," Olivia mumbled. "No hospital." She struggled to sit up. "Melinda? El?" her voice was stronger. "Don't let them take me. I'm not going to hospital," tears formed in her eyes. She tried to get upright, but her limbs wouldn't co-operate and she felt as weak as a kitten.
"It's okay," Alex kept her voice calm. "It's just until you feel better."
"El?" Olivia's voice rose, a clear note of panic. "Don't let them. Please Elliot," she fought weakly against Alex's gentle hold.
"She hates hospitals," Elliot explained. "All those times when her mom was taken in. Isn't there another way?"
"She doesn't have any family, I don't think we can count on her mother," Warner said. "She really shouldn't be alone, and she doesn't have anyone to take care of her."
"I'll do it!" Alex realized that it was her own voice she heard. Had she really said that? Olivia barely knew her. Was she taking advantage of her weakness, just because she was captivated by the exotic detective and wanted every chance she could get just to spend time with her. She saw the look of hope in Olivia's pain-filled eyes. "It's Friday," she said, as though in explanation. "It's the weekend. I don't have any plans."
Warner looked doubtful. "Okay..." she said. "I'll drive her. I don't want her in the car for long, she needs rest. I want to get her settled in bed. Then I'll make the final decision. No arguments. Miss Cabot," she turned to Alex. "Are you ready to leave, or do you need to go home first?"
"I'm ready," Alex said firmly. "I'll borrow one of Detective Benson's shirts to sleep in, and I always carry a toothbrush in my purse."
"I think you could start calling her Olivia now," Warner smiled. "You two are gonna get much better acquainted over the next couple of days," she grimaced.