Fiona had been feeling like she was coming down with something the past couple of days. Instead of addressing the feeling directly she tried to bury it underneath some work. She was dealing with a client, moreover who was also a close friend so she simply couldn't afford to be sick, so she opted to use the ignore it and it'll go away method.
Only it didn't go away, and now, back at her apartment, it was impossible to ignore. She'd feel like he was burning up one minute and then the next she'd feel like she was in the arctic tundra. She also had a blinding headache to boot that wouldn't even so much allow her to even look at the work sprawled out across her coffee table let alone actually get any of it done.
She dug through her medicine cabinet and took whatever she could find and hoped that it would at least alleviate her symptoms enough for her
to meet up with Sam and Michael for their gig.
Unfortunately the medicine only made her drowsy and she passed out on the couch not long after taking it.
The sleep was restless however, she tossed and turned, kicked blankets off of her, only to pull them up tight to her neck not long after. She kicked them off one final time when she had to sprint to the bathroom, feeling like she was going to throw up. She didn't, but the feeling didn't go away so he thought it best if she stay close. That, and she didn't have the energy to keep running back and forth despite the small distance from the couch to the bathroom. So she settled for laying down on the cold tile of the bathroom floor and closing her eyes.
Her eyes opened when she heard the sound of her phone ringing in the distance. She felt infinitely worse when she dragged herself off of the bathroom floor where she had fallen asleep.
By the tone of Sam's voice when she answered the phone, it wasn't the first time the phone had rang.
"Where are you?"
"I'm uh, " Fi stammered before being cut off.
"You're uh, not here. Where you're supposed to be. An hour ago"
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. What happened girl?"
"I think i'm ill..so i can't come".
"Ill? Lord! Does last week have anything to do with this!"
"Sam Im not pregnant!"
"Right...i thought MIKE got you..."
"SAM! i can't come...tell Michael i can't make it."
She tried to fight back the feeling of nausea that was overwhelming her along with the headache that had only seemed to get progressively worse.
Sam told Michael about Fiona's sickness.
The two of them eventually had to handle the gig alone.
The job was done,although they desperately needed Fi.
As Michael was getting ready to go home he decided to give Fi a call. The phone rang but nobody answered. And Michael wasn't worried, not really, Fiona was probably just sleeping. It made sense. But maybe he should just swing by and check for himself. He was a little disillutioned, however, that she didnt call him to tell him about her sickness.
Fiona was startled by the knock at the door. She had been drifting off and on since she's been at her apartment. Her intention had just been to ignore whomever it was at the door but they knocked again. And again.
She weakly raised her gun to the door.
"Go away!"
"Fi, open the door, and don't shoot."
'Michael?' Fiona mouthed to himself before pulling herself up off the couch and moving towards the door and swinging it open.
Sure enough, Michael was standing on the other side, brown paper bags in tow.
"It's almost.." Fi says before look at her wristwatch. "It's almost 9 at night, what are you doing here?"
"I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd swing by," Michael lied.
"You were..in my neighborhood? Doing what? Fighting crime?"
"Nice to see sickness didn't effect you being rude to me," Michael said as he pushed past Fi and into her apartment.
Fiona closed the door behind her and padded back over to the couch, flopping back down. Michael sat down next to her and placed the brown paper bags on the coffee table.
"Did you take any medicine?"
"I just need sleep."
"You need to take some medicine Fi. You look feverish. Let me feel," Michael said reaching for Fiona's forehead.
"You're burning hot Fiona," Michael said before Fiona swatted his hand away.
"Michael, I'm not a little girl."
"Good, then you won't be disappointed that I couldn't find you grape flavored medicine," Michael said as he searched through one of the brown bags and tossed a box of medicine at Fiona. He reached into another bag and pulled out a can of Sprite, opening it and holding it out to her.
Fiona was genuinely confused, but she grabbed the box and proceeded to open it and take the dosage of medicine suggested on the box because with Michael sitting there she really didn't have any other options.
"Did you eat anything?" Michael asked.
"No. I mean, not really."
"Since you're completely incompetent I figured as much and brought you some soup and crackers too."
"Okay Michael, why are you doing this?"
"I just told you, because you're completely incompetent."
"I'm serious, Michael. What's going on?"
"Truth?"
"Preferably."
"I called your phone and you didn't answer and I may have gotten a little…I don't know..worried, I guess.
Also,you didn't call to tell me that you were sick. You should have let me know,but you told Sam." He said.
"See, this is what I was afraid of, this is why i didn't call you." she said.
"What?"
"Well..i mean..last week when we..when it got...Agh! Can we just skip this, pretend i didn't say anything."
"Did anybody ever tell you that you're completely unbearable when you're sick? Because you are."
Fiona laughs. She might still feel like crap but somehow it's not as bad as it was before Michael knocked on her door.
"Well, I guess I'll get going and leave you to it beacuse you don't want me here." Michael says as he starts to stand up.
Fiona grabs his arm and stops him, "Did you eat yet? Because there's a lot of soup here that needs eaten. That is, if you're not afraid of getting sick."
"As long as we're not kissing I think I can stay."
He too, recalled last week. when they ended up having sex.
"I'll try to keep it to mild groping."
"Then you've got a deal," Michael says, sinking back down onto the couch next to Fiona.
They spend the next couple of hours eating soup, and talking over a movie on tv that both of them won't admit is only there as background noise to their conversation.
Fiona starts telling a story of why she doesn't like to go to the doctors or hospitals and Michael drinks in every detail that Fi's willing to share with him, because he might not have the memory Fi has but he remembers everything Fi is willing to share with him.
Fiona's words grow further and further apart and his sentences are scattered with yawns and Michael feels Fiona's head heavy against his shoulder. He thinks about moving, but the thought passes as quickly as it had come and he just resides to letting Fiona use him as a pillow for the night.
When Fiona starts to shift in his sleep Michael shushes her softly and tells her to just go back to sleep and Fi does.
From a logical standpoint it's probably a bad idea for Michael to be around Fiona when she's sick, also because of last weeks awkward situation,
but in this moment Michael can't bring himself to care about logic because he can't think of any place he'd rather be right about now then watching the woman sleep.
She was so beautiful when she slept. He remembered watching her sleep back in Ireland when he'd spend the night at her place quite often.
He realises he really doesn't want to leave. It's never felt this right,peaceful or cozy before, than he does now with Fiona next to him.
He doesn't know how Fiona is going to feel in the morning, or how he is going to feel in the morning for that matter, but he thinks maybe they'll both take a sick day.
Fiona starts to shift even more and he realises she's not as comfortable as he was,but she slept a deep sleep.
The medicine was doing its trick. He decided to shift her to her bedroom.
He very gently carried Fi in to his arms and walked in to her bedroom.
She looked like an angel in her sleep, Michael thought. He sat down next to her,watching her sleep again. He'd spread a warm blanket over her and closed her window shut, so she wasn't cold.
He glanced around her bedroom. He'd never been in here before. It was neat, tidy and very organised...particularly her snow globes that were set in a row in a shelf. Michael got up to get a good look at them. They were so many, so delicate.
He realised there was one snow globe that had been placed away from the others, this one was on her bed side table.
He held it in his hands to look at it..."WELCOME TO MIAMI."
He had given Fi this one. Behind the snowglobe was a picture, also his.
He stood with Fiona,his arms around her.
Michael chucled when he saw it. He remembered that day perfectly.
It was Fiona's birthday back in Ireland and he'd got her flowers.
Michael sighed.
He never thought this was how the two of them would end up.
From being so close and compassionate ...they'd grown so apart...uneasy even when they would be in a room together,alone.
Whatever happened the week before..Michael realised it was a unvlountary action. He knew he shouldn't touch her anymore but his body couldnt resist the temptation.
Even now, when she was fast asleep, he didn't want to leave.
And he decided not to. He quietly sat down next to Fiona again. She moved closer to him and buried her face into his shoulder.
He had no idea. She snuggled in closer, but he didn't care. He wanted this.
He leaned in closer to her to place a long,soft kiss on her forehead. Her forehead was burning hot against his lips but he continued to kiss her.
Fiona stirred awake.
Where was Michael?
She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and walked out of her room to find Michael in the kitchen. He had made coffee?
"Good morning?" It sounded more like a question than a greeting.
"How you feeling?"
"Better...where'd you sleep?"
"On the couch." he lied.
"Michael."
"hm?"
"Thankyou. For being here and..."
"you're welcome Fi."
They were locked in to each others gaze for a while. Fiona's blue eyes swim in to his.
"Come by at the loft today?" he finally questioned.
"definitely." She said, sipping her coffee.
...