Authors Note; Hey guys :) This is my third Neric fic. This one will be a short multi-chapter. I'm currently looking at about four chapters, as I'm working on something else as well which is going to be considerably longer. Give it a read and let me know if you think its worth continuing :)
Constructive criticism is always welcome and I love, love, love to hear your feedback! Even if its just to let me know what you like/disliked!
Characters may not be totally in character, but I always get this feeling like the team are all more relaxed outside of work, and this is just may way of portraying it, so try not to be too put out and like I said, let me know if you think anything is too unrealistic and I will work on it for future chapters/fics.
But other than that, read on and enjoy, you amazing person :)
The knock on his door was very faint, drifting through to his dark bedroom from the front of his house. He groaned, rolling over in preparation to try to get up but the nausea rolled in again. They'll just go away, he thought, stilling his movements once again and sinking back into the bed. The knocking came again, but this time he refused to move.
"Eric?" I know that voice, he groaned again, realising that if there was one person in the world who wouldn't just leave if he didn't answer his door it would be her, "Eric?! I'm coming in!" She doesn't have a key. Soon enough he heard the door opening and footsteps. Her boots clicked quietly against the wooden flooring and his door that was open a crack slowly swung fully open. He closed his eyes tightly at the sudden light coming into his room and made a pitiful sound. When he opened his eyes again there was a gun pointed at him.
"Jesus, Nell!" He croaked, his eyes widening in shock and surprise.
"Eric! God, I'm sorry!" She squeaked, realising that she was still pointing her service weapon at him she quickly clicked the safety on before shoving it back into its holster clipped to the back of her rarely-worn jeans, "Wow, you really are sick, aren't you?" He made another pitiful moan and pulled the duvet up over his face.
"Go… way." He felt her tug the covers back down off his face and the bed jostle as she perched on next to him.
"Na-uh," her cool fingers brushed his sweaty hair off his damp forehead before she rested the back of them against his skin, gauging his temperature, "Eric, you're burning up!"
"Cold." He coughed out, moving his back away from her touch and snuggling down into the relative warmth of his bed.
"Okay, you're really sick. I need cool you down a little alright?" He shook his head, temporarily forgetting that this would only make him feel dizzy, "Listen to me, you have a fever. The only way to get you better is to cool you down."
"Cold." He forced out between chattering teeth, determined not to let her win this. However she was working at full strength, which was surprising for her size, so it didn't seem to take much effort for her to overpower him. She stood up and yanked the covers off his body, tossing them onto the floor behind her. The sudden cold forced him to curl up into foetal position to preserve what little warmth his body was providing him, "Go...way!" He mumbled flinging one arm out feebly to search for the heavy comforter to cover himself back up. She grabbed his hand and tugged, pulling his body up into a seated position and pushing him back against the headboard. He glared at her but couldn't find the strength to move back down the bed. He couldn't even bring himself to care that he was in 3 day old Spiderman pyjama pants, a long sleeve t-shirt and a fluffy hoodie that made him look like a 12 year old.
"No!" She huffed, stomping into his en suite bathroom and he heard the shower switch on. When she came back into the bedroom she ignored him, instead going into his closet. He heard her rummaging around.
"What are you doing?" He coughed, rubbing his hand over his eyes, wincing at the headache kicking in. She came back in, and he felt his jaw drop. She was wearing nothing but one of his dark t-shirts.
"Close your mouth, or you're going to start catching flies." He could not believe his eyes. Suddenly he forgot his whole body aching, the cold, the dizziness. She has never looked more stunning, he thought, before mentally slapping himself. She's your partner, idiot, your partner! And yet here she is, strutting around his house, wearing nothing but his t-shirt, and he couldn't do anything, because he was frigging sick.
"Again, what are you doing?"
"I," she said, walking over to him where he was still sitting, stunned, on his bed, and taking his hands, tugging him to the edge and getting him to stand up, "Am getting you into the shower." Feebly he tried to fight her off.
"No, I just need to sleep."
"Eric, I need to cool your body temperature down or you're not going to get better!" He mumbled another protest but allowed her to slip one of his arms around her shoulders while one of hers wound around his waist and she pulled him to the bathroom. By the time they got there she was a little red in the face from taking most of his weight and he was closing his eyes to stop the room from spinning around him. She sat him gently on the closed toilet seat, leaning him back gently so that he wouldn't slip off, "I'm going to get some towels. When I get back you we are getting out the shower and cooling you off."
"Sorry, we?"
"Eric, you are not going to be able to hold yourself up in the shower. I'm coming in to make sure you don't fall and slip and give yourself a concussion." He panicked slightly at the thought of being in the shower with Nell. She must have noticed because she blushed a furious shade of red and gave him a light punch to the front of his shoulder. He winced slightly at the contact, his muscles aching from all the shivering he had been doing over the past two days, "Don't worry, you can keep your boxers on and I'm going to keep my clothes on."
"You mean my clothes." He let slip and mentally slapped himself again. She blushed once more but didn't say anything before moving out of the bathroom, leaving him alone briefly again. Get a grip! he growled at himself. She reappeared again. He hadn't moved, but she just rolled her eyes, throwing the pile of towels over the rails, and coming over to where he sat. She stood in front of him, arms crossed over his chest and, although he was sick he was still a guy, and he tried to avert his eyes from where the t-shirt rode up slightly, exposing her delicate thighs a little more.
"You have to take your pyjamas off," she said quietly, raising an eyebrow at him, "And I would probably burn them afterwards." She joked. He chuckled hoarsely, but didn't move. She sighed and stepped towards him. She had one leg on either side of his so she was effectively straddling his leg, causing him to gulp and shuffle uncomfortably, acutely aware of her petite body pressing against him. She raised her hands slowly and took the hem of his hoodie in her hands and began pulling it up. He crossed his arms, effectively stopping her movements.
"Nell, what are you doing?" He asked for what felt like the hundredth time in half an hour.
"Either you take them off or I do." He huffed, uncrossing his arms and taking the hem of his hoodie from her, starting to pull it up. His muscles protested angrily and he groaned, stopping and panting before he had lifted it over his head. Seeing that he was struggling Nell took pity on him and took control back, carefully pulling one arm out at a time before lifting the jumper the rest of the way off and dropping it behind her. He blushed, but was unable to do anything to stop her, knowing that she was right, As always. She did the same thing with his t-shirt, leaving him sitting there shirtless, shivering. She smiled at him apologetically, but he grinned slightly as he caught her drifting gaze. She took his hands, once more tugging him into a standing position, but didn't say anything, instead opting to look at his pants pointedly. He got her message and steadied himself on her shoulder, pushing his pants down with one hand, deliberately keeping his boxers on. When he met her gaze once more he saw that she was blushing just as much as he was, but she let him put his other hand on her shoulder, putting hers on his waist, and stepping back, making sure he stepped out of the flannel pants.
"Isn't this supposed to go the other way?" He joked, trying to use humour to diffuse the strange tension that had started to fill the space between them. Thankfully she was fully aware of his bad habit of using his strange sense of humour when he felt out of his element. She turned from him and opened the glass door to his shower cubicle before stepping inside, pulling him in with her. At first it was awkward. The cubicle was small and neither wanted to risk brushing against the other inappropriately. Eric began to shiver violently from the water that felt like ice driving against his sensitive skin, "F-f-for G-Gods sake, N-N-N-ell, its-s-s fre-ee-z-z-ing!" The t-shirt she was wearing was saturated, sticking to her body enticingly. She reached around him and took the bottle of shower gel out of the rack hanging over the temperature control, in the process pressing her body against him. He bit his lip to prevent himself from groaning at the contact.
"It's not. Which is why I needed you to get in here," she lathered up the gel and to his embarrassment she started to wash his arms gently.
"N-Nell, I c-c-can wash m-m-mys-self."
"Eric, you couldn't lift your jumper over your head. You're not going to be able to wash your back or your hair." She was right. Again. He hung his head in defeat and allowed her to continue gently massaging his aching muscles. She turned him around slowly and he braced his hands against the wall of the cubicle, allowing the water to hit his chest and wash off the soap that she had rubbed into him. Her massaging continued over his shoulders and down his back and he couldn't deny the fact that it felt comforting, relieving and arousing all at the same time. When she was done with his back she gently pushed one shoulder, signalling for him to turn around. As he turned a dizzy spell hit once more and he stumbled forward, crashing into her. Instinctively he wrapped one arm around her waist and caught himself against the opposite wall to the last one he had braced himself on. Her hands had come up and grabbed his shoulders supporting herself. She giggled slightly at their new compromising position but didn't move. He stayed still as well, waited for the dizziness to pass, and then stayed that way, revelling in the feel of her held against him, "Alright, you big baby," she joked, gently (always gently) pushing him back to a standing position, but holding onto his shoulders still to keep him upright. He reached behind himself and turned off the water and braced himself against the walls once more, "I'm going to grab you a towel and help get you out, then I'm going to go and get you some clean clothes, okay?" He closed his eyes but nodded, letting her know he understood. He felt her move out of the shower and then he felt her wrap a warm, fluffy towel around his shoulders, "Take my hands." She said, and he opened his eyes and did as she instructed, making it over to the toilet before letting the dizziness crash over him again. He closed his eyes and heard her grab a towel of her own before hearing the bathroom door opening and closing. He sat, letting his head spin and his ears ring, pulling to towel tighter around himself and shivering once more. He heard her re-enter the room, but didn't open his eyes, "Come on, Eric." She coaxed, releasing his grip on the towel. She began to pat his skin. She took the used towel away from him and handed him a new one. He opened his eyes, and saw that she had put a pile of clean clothes on the edge of his sink for him. He also saw that she had gotten dried and changed back into her jeans and shirt. He ignored the fleeting feeling of disappointment that slashed through him, "I'm going to leave you to get dressed. When I come back I'm going to wash your hair in the sink, so you better be dressed in about 5 minutes, okay." He nodded and she left again. Eric sat there for a minute longer before braving his weak legs and standing. He quickly changed out of his wet boxers and dried off but sat back down before looking through the clothes she had brought in for him. He flushed when he saw that she had grabbed a clean pair of boxers for him, but was grateful that she had been thoughtful enough not to make him go commando. He heard a knock on the door and started.
"Give me a minute." He croaked as loudly as possible. As quickly as his aching body allowed him to he pulled on the thin t-shirt and pair of basketball shorts she had taken from the depths of his closet. When she knocked again he made some guttural noise, but didn't try to speak. The door opened and Nell peeked in tentatively.
"You good?"
"Yeah." She came fully into the room, dragging the chair from his work desk behind her.
"Okay, on this chair," she grabbed his hands and pulled him up before carefully sitting him on the chair in front of the sink. She leant him back, resting his neck on a bunched up towel on the edge of the sink. He heard the water running and filling something before warm water cascaded over his hair, soaking it. When her fingers started to massage the shampoo into his scalp he couldn't help but sigh and close his eyes, relaxing, "Are you feeling better?"
"I'm still really cold," he admitted, opening one eye to jokingly glare at her, but closed it again when she flicked his nose lightly, "But other than that? I feel a bit better." Silence fell and she shuffled closer to him, leaning over to get to the back of his head.
"Sooo, how long were you hibernating in those less than stellar smelling clothes?"
"Erm, a day or two maybe?"
"Eric, gross!" She laughed, but rinsed her hands under the tap. The water started filling the jug and when it was full she tipped it over his hair once more, rinsing out the shampoo. She repeated the process of rinsing a couple more times, each time massaging his scalp tenderly. Convincing himself he was too weak to protest, he allowed himself to relax fully for the first time since he woke up feeling ill. When he could string a coherent thought together he gave a deep sigh.
"When I was little and I became sick, my Mum used to snuggle me up on the couch and watch movies with me all day. She would make me her special garlic concoction and make me drink it," he chuckled at the memory, "But I would always fight her on it, even though I knew I wouldn't be able to taste it, but just knowing what was in it was enough." Nell giggled too, temporarily stopping her ministrations long enough to grab a fresh towel. She started to rub his hair, mindful of his headache.
"Sounds like you are close." He opened his eyes, and took the towel from her.
"Yeah, we were." He didn't look at his partner, just fiddled with the towel in his lap.
"Oh, God, I didn't- I didn't know. I'm so sorry."
"Its okay," he mumbled, "It was a long time ago."
"Do you want to talk?"
"No." He tried to stand too quickly and the dizziness hit once more. Thankfully she was there to catch him.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry." She took his weight again and moved him into his bedroom. He made a beeline towards the bed but she steered him away.
"Where are you going?"
"Lounge." She said, bringing him to the intended room. She had closed the curtains for him, and dropped him onto the sofa, "Just stay here for a minute, okay?" She moved away from him into the kitchen where he could still see her.
"Nell, I'm cold, why am I here? I wanna go to bed."
"Quit whining! I'm going to get you something to drink, okay." He groaned but closed his eyes, listening to her bustling around his kitchen. There were pots clattering and the sound of her chopping something but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes to see what she was doing. He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew Nell was shaking him awake, "Here." She said, handing him a mug.
"What is it?" He croaked, voice even rougher with sleep.
"Apple water."
"How long was I out for?" He asked, taking the mug from her.
"About 2 hours," she shrugged, indicating for him to drink up, "I checked in with Hetty, she says 'Get better soon, Mr Beale.' Eric, drink!" He tentatively took a sip, finding that it was actually a good.
"What is this?"
"I told you, apple water."
"Thanks, smart ass. Yeah, but how do you make it?" He asked, taking another tentative sip. He was acutely aware of the fact that there was nothing he had been able to keep down over the last couple of days. She sat on the couch next to him, curling her legs up underneath her and sipping her own mug, although he could smell the coffee in hers.
"Easy. Boil some water with a cut up apple in it until the apple softens. Pour the mixture through a strainer, add a little honey and let it cool." He continued to drink, letting the flavoured water rehydrate him, "When was the last time you ate or drank anything?"
"Umm, a couple of days ago.. right around the time I showered." He smiled, but stopped when he saw how unimpressed she looked, "Can I go back to bed? I'm still really tired?" He gave her his best puppy eyed look. She smirked and gave him a sympathetic look.
"Yes, you can. Need help getting there?"
"Probably." He grumbled, but let her pull him up, "You know, I'm basically you're rag doll at the moment, aren't I?" She laughed, but didn't disagree. When he got to his room, he saw that she had been busy in the two hours he had been napping on the couch, "You changed the sheets?"
"Yeah. You didn't expect me to actually let you go back to that bed that you have been festering in for the last 3 days?"
"Fair point." He conceded. She ducked out from under him and pulled back the corner of the new crisp sheets that she had made his bed up with. He crawled in and sighed at the feeling. He was surprised to see her tuck him in before plopping down next to him and leaning against the headboard, "What are you doing?"
"You know, anyone would think that you've never been taken care of," she said lightly, picking up the remote off the bedside table and switching on the TV that sat on the low chest of drawers opposite the bed, "But to answer your question, we are watching a movie." He watched her for a moment before turning his attention to the movie. She had put in the remake of Star Trek, which made him smile. He was, after all the one who had made her watch it in the first place. As Kirk got into a bar fight he felt himself beginning to succumb to sleep.
"Thank you." He mumbled, closing his eyes and letting himself doze off once more.