Title: Let Me Take Care Of You
Rating: K
Pairing: Tommy/Kat
Summary: Ficlet. Kat isn't feeling well, so Tommy brings her some soup. A sweet lil' sicktime fic.
Kat groaned when she heard the knock on her door, she struggled to right herself on the couch, knocking tissues everywhere in her futile attempts. Finally she collapsed back down onto the couch, "Its open!" Her yell was followed by a fit of coughing.
Tommy stuck his head in the door, "Hey, how are you feeling sexy?" He asked, heading over towards the couch carrying a warm ceramic bowl.
"I'm feeling anything BUT sexy at the moment," she replied hoarsely, turning away from him to blow her nose. "What are you doing here baby? Don't you have practice?"
"Umm… it's raining out," Tommy, bit his lip, wondering how sick she was exactly, that she hadn't noticed the torrential rains they had been having all morning.
"Oh," Kat looked towards the window, blinds closed and sighed, "I just woke up, I didn't know," she struggled to sit up again. "Bugger!" She grumbled, laying back down when yet again, she still couldn't get herself to sit up.
"Let me help," Tommy said, setting the bowl down on the coffee table and gently helping her sit up on the couch. "Easy does it babe," he said fixing the blanket onto her lap. "Feel up for some soup?" He asked, gesturing towards the bowl.
"Who made it?" She asked suspiciously, having been victim to Tommy's first attempt at cooking. She took the bowl as Tommy held it out to her and lifted the lid off, taking a tentative sniff. It smelled edible at least.
"My mom did," Tommy replied only taking slight offense to her question, he knew he couldn't cook all that well. "It's edible, I promise," he said getting up and heading to the kitchen, bringing her out a spoon and a napkin.
Kat gave him a small smile, "Thanks," she replied, watching him sit down as she started to eat. "You know," she started once she was nearly done with her soup, "You don't have to sit here with me, as much as I love the company."
Tommy raised an eyebrow at that, "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't take care of you when you were sick?"
"One who wouldn't catch my cold," Kat replied with a smile, touched that he wanted to take care of her, germs and all.
"But you'll take care of me when I'm sick, won't you?" He asked, taking the soup bowl from her and setting it on the table, then taking a seat next to her on the couch.
"Of course," she replied, shifting so she could lay her head down in his lap.
"Then let me take care of you," he said running his hands through her hair, listening to her breathing even out as she started to drift of.
"Love you," she murmured softly, her body relaxing at his touch.
"Love you too," he whispered in return, his hands still stroking her hair as she succumbed to sleep.
Author's Note: You write what you feel, so they say. Well I feel like flaming crap, so Kat's sick. I wish I had a Tommy to take care of me right now. I'm jealous. Acutally, I want an Adam, so I'm not as jealous.