Sharon woke up with a groan when her alarm went off. The cold she thought she'd been coming down with for the last couple of days had turned into the full-blown plague. She looked to the unusually-empty space beside her in her bed, grateful for the first time in the last two days that Andy was staying at Nicole's house this week. Her husband was out of town on business, and she and both of her stepsons had the flu, so he'd been there to take care of them when he wasn't at work. Sharon wasn't ready to be so vulnerable around Andy just yet. She got up to get ready for work, as she could be miserable in her office just as easily as she could be miserable at home. Using her sick days to stay home with Rusty when he wasn't feeling well was one thing, but she hated to take sick days for herself. Her team had just finished a case, and in the few days following, when her team was in and out, tying up loose ends, and Sharon was buried in paperwork, it wasn't unusual for her and Andy to not see each other until the end of the day. Her closed office door would be enough to keep him off of her back for a good portion of the day.

Sharon stumbled into the bathroom and took a hot shower. After drying off and slipping into her warmest robe, she retrieved her hairdryer from under the sink and took it into her bedroom to dry her hair. It was Rusty's first day of Christmas Break, and she didn't want to wake him after the sleep-deprived, exam-filled several days he'd had. Once she'd made herself as presentable as she could get, she got dressed without bothering to iron her suit first and went to the kitchen to start the coffee maker. More times than not, she preferred to start her day with hot tea, but this morning definitely called for coffee.

Rusty woke up when he smelled the coffee brewing and couldn't go back to sleep. He got up to eat breakfast, happy that he'd woken up in time to see Sharon before she left for work. Between school and the fact that she and Andy spent most of their free time house-hunting, he felt like he hadn't seen her in months.

Rusty could tell that something was amiss with Sharon the moment he entered the kitchen. This woman, whom he had grown to love as his mother, whom he'd finally started calling 'Mom,' was slumped against the counter with a tired posture, waiting for the coffee maker to finish. Her suit hadn't been pressed, and her blouse wasn't tucked in. "Mom? You okay?"

Sharon jumped and turned around at the sound of his voice. "Mom?!" Rusty asked with greater urgency, noticing her flushed cheeks and bleary eyes. Sharon had taken care of him several times when he'd been sick over the last few years, but this was the first time he had ever seen her sick. Knowing she was caught, she didn't try to deny being sick. She filled her coffee mug and took a sip, then gave Rusty a wry smile.

"And you say I'm creepy."

Rusty winced at her painfully hoarse and congested voice. "Awww, does Mommy have the sniffles?" Sharon nodded pitifully and stuck her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. Rusty pulled her into a hug before she could protest that she didn't want him to get sick. Sharon leaned into his chest and let him hold her. Even though he was her child, it felt good to be cared for.

Rusty could feel the heat from Sharon's forehead through his t-shirt. Seriously worried now, he felt her forehead, checking her for a fever, just like she had done for him countless times when he told her he wasn't feeling well. Her skin burned against his palm. "Mom! You're burning up! You can't go to work today."

"Rusty-" Sharon was interrupted by hacking coughs. She could tell the cough was going to be productive, so she started for the paper towel roll on the counter to catch whatever was coming up. Mistaking her urgency for impending vomit, Rusty grabbed her arm, rushed her over to the sink, and held her hair back from her face. "Not-throwing-up-" Sharon gasped between coughs, trying to extract the offending substance from her lungs. Not convinced, Rusty held her hair in one hand and patted her back with the other. Finally successful, Sharon leaned down and spit into the sink.

"Mom, please. You look miserable. You guys don't even have a case, and I'm on Christmas Break now. Wouldn't you rather stay here and watch those sappy Hallmark Christmas movies? They're on all damn day now. Hell, I'll even watch them with you, if you'll stay home." Sharon thought about it. She really was feeling bad and wouldn't get much accomplished at work, anyway. Except spreading germs. Rusty could tell she was wavering. "Go put your pajamas on." He took her coffee from her, and she groaned as he pried it from her fingers. "I'll make you some tea with honey in it for your throat. Coffee has too much caffeine, especially when you're si-oh, dear god, I sound just like you."

"I guess you've heard all of this from me enough for it to stick with you."

"I guess so. Now, go change into some warm and comfortable pajamas, young lady. I'll text Provenza and tell him you're staying home sick today."

"Yes, sir." Sharon handed Rusty her phone and went to her bedroom to change clothes. He entered her passcode and sent a quick text to Provenza. Sharon discarded her suit and blouse on the floor of her bedroom and pulled on her favorite flannel pajama pants and soft LAPD sweatshirt. After removing her makeup and throwing her hair up into a messy bun, she grabbed the pillows from her bed and went to the living room, where Rusty was putting sheets and blankets for her on the couch. "Thanks, honey." She sank down into the couch, and Rusty covered her with a blanket. In true Sharon fashion, he held the thermometer up expectantly.

"Ruuuustyyyyy, I already know I have a fever," Sharon whined. "I don't need to check my temperature."

"It didn't take long for you to start sounding like me. Now, open. Oh, god, this is really getting creepy."

"I don't care what my temperature is."

"Well, I do. Even I can tell you have a fever, so you know it has to be high. You always make me let you check my temperature. It's your turn."

"You're my child."

"You're my mom. And I'm twenty."

"I don't care if you're fifty. You're my child." Defeated, Sharon went to take the thermometer from Rusty so she could hold it under her tongue, but he held on to it.

"Rusty, I don't want you to get sick."

"Mom. I've drank after you, like, 800 times in the last few days, when you were probably already contagious. If I'm going to get sick, it won't be from being near you today." Rusty slipped the thermometer under Sharon's tongue and held it there until it beeped. He was kind of enjoying taking care of Sharon, for a change. His eyes widened when the thermometer beeped, and he checked the readout. "Oh, my god, Mom, it's 103.3. You need to go to the doctor."

"All right, buster, I draw the line right there. I don't want to go to the doctor, and I'm not going. He's just going to say it's viral and give me something to 'ease the symptoms' that won't work."

"You don't know that. And what's stopping me from making an appointment for you and carrying you out of here when it's time to go?"

"Armed guards, because I'll be at work." Sharon swung her legs to the floor and started to get up.

"Okay, okay, fine," Rusty said hastily, not willing to call her bluff. He put his hands on her shoulders and settled her against the back of the couch. "I'll be right back with your tea and some Tylenol." He returned a moment later with two pills in his hand and a glass of juice. While Sharon was taking the pills, he went back for her tea and turned the TV to the Hallmark Channel. "I'm going to run to the store down the street. We have nothing here."

"Thanks, sweetheart. Get some money out of my purse. Did you text Provenza?" Rusty nodded. "What did he say? Will they be all right today?"

"I wouldn't worry about them. He said something about being relieved to find out that you're actually human."

"I'll deal with him later," Sharon mumbled, holding her hands to her temples.

"Does your head hurt?" Rusty asked. "Do you want a cold cloth before I leave?"

"No, honey. I'm all right...You sound a little congested," she noted, studying him closely.

"My throat's been kind of itchy, and my nose has been running a little bit for a couple of days. I think I'm just getting a cold."

"I thought the same thing...And then I woke up this morning with the Black Death."

Rusty's eyes widened. "Shit, Mom, am I going to be as sick as you are?"

"I surely hope not...But it looks like you will. Your eyes are starting to look a little glassy."

"Damn it. I'll go buy some groceries while I'm still ahead. Be back soon. Call me if you need me." Rusty changed out of his pajamas, plugged in the lights on the Christmas tree, and left to buy some groceries. When he returned, he unpacked the groceries, started a large pot of chicken soup, using Sharon's mom's recipe, and put his pajamas back on. He got a popsicle from the freezer and a fresh glass of juice for Sharon. While she ate the popsicle, he put a box of Kleenex on the coffee table and a trash bag beside the couch.

Sharon got a handful of tissue from the box and blew her nose, watching Rusty in amusement. "You look like you've done this before."

"Well, I've seen you do this enough times to know the drill. I knew your 'sick day' grocery list by heart." Rusty sat beside Sharon while she slowly ate her popsicle. A different movie was starting, and less than five minutes into it, Rusty knew exactly how the plot was going to go. "Hmm, this woman has been too focused on her career to ever care about Christmas or date anyone or have kids and crap. She's going to wake up suddenly with a husband, kids, and a house decorated to the hilt for Christmas with no memory of how any of it happened. By the time the movie's over, she'll understand what's important in life and it will be the best Christmas ever."

"Rusty. This movie just came on for the first time last week. Neither of us have even seen it yet."

"10,000 Hallmark Christmas movies, five different plots. My odds of being right are pretty good." Sharon sighed in exasperation and leaned into Rusty's side. He wrapped his arm around her and straightened the blanket over her. "Do you want me to get up so you can lie down?"

"No. Lying down gives the brick in my nose sharp edges." Rusty grabbed a handful of tissues as she started coughing again. He held it in front of her mouth as she coughed into it. "Mom, please. Let me take you to Dr. Tillman. You could have, like, pneumonia or something."

"No, honey. I've had pneumonia. This isn't it. It's just bronchitis or a respiratory infection or something."

"How bad did Andy freak out when you told him you were sick?"

"I texted him that I just had a cold and wanted to spend the day with you, since we haven't seen much of each other recently. The part about wanting to spend time with you was true, though. I've been sniffling for the last couple of days, so he bought it."

"Sucker."

"Right? I'm sure he'll come by after work before he goes back to Nicole's, but he'll want to get back to her as soon as he can. Having the flu is bad enough, but I can't imagine having to take care of two small children as well." Sharon involuntarily shivered and leaned back against Rusty. He tightened the blanket around her and wrapped his arms around her to keep her chills at bay, like she always did for him when he was sick. It also somehow made the achiness that comes with a fever feel better, too, which made no sense.

"I wish I could put your own arms around you. I know this doesn't feel as good as it does when you do this for me."

"Give yourself some credit. This feels pretty good, and it's definitely the most comfortable I've been all morning." They watched the movie in silence for a few more minutes.

"See! She woke up in a strange bed. She's about to be greeted by a strange husband, children, and probably a dog."

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Just watch the movie and keep your predictions to yourself." Smiling, she nestled against her son, finally warm and comfortable enough to be able to go back to sleep.