TITLE: Fever
By Jemmiah
With thanks to the following people:
Jane Jinn for An-Paj
Healer Leona for Healer Leona
Mouse for Rela Quinn, Mrs. K, Brak and Tuffy
Jemmiah Gleshan, Spider, Gethin, Ferdi, Simeon and Evla belong to Jemmiah.
Obi-Wan Kenobi & Qui-Gon Jinn belong to George Lucas.
*********
* BEEP *
"Go away!" Jemmiah growled at the holoterminal. "I'm busy! Can't you see that?"
It was always the same, she reflected unhappily. Whenever she had somewhere she had to be in a rush, that would be the very second that she received a call. She actually hoped for a brief moment it would be someone trying to sell her something, like cheap windows or a new and revolutionary form of washing powder, so that she could pick a fight with them. Sith, she was ready to give them a screaming match if they wanted it…
//No. Ignore it.// She urged herself. //You're not obliged to answer it.//
* BEEP *
"Shove off!" Jemmy yelled, as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, hair all over the place, sweeping it away from her face with such a violent movement that she nearly scalped herself with hair-entangled fingers. "OWCH! Look what you made me do! How's a girl supposed to get ready to go out on the town with all these persistent interruptions? Gimme a break!"
* BEEP *
"I've only got…" she locked hastily down at her wrist chrono, "…three and a quarter hours to get ready, and that's cutting it fine! So do me a favor and just kriff off!"
Silence.
Jemmiah blinked, surprised.
"Huh!" She pulled an uncomplimentary face at the holo transmitter, feeling somewhat miffed that it had cut out without putting up a good fight. Tame competition indeed! "Well, you couldn't have wanted anything important, could you?"
A hasty brush at her hair didn't do very much to change its appearance. It still hung in a thick mass of tangled chestnut, maddeningly wavy and contrary, always seeming to do what it wanted as opposed to what she wished. Oh, for hair like Rela's! Proper curls, not the crimpy spirals that she had been cursed with. Straight hair would have been nice too, but oh no! The force couldn't even have got that right!
"I hate the force." Jemmy tossed her hairbrush to one side.
She scooped her hair up into a Nerf's tail, so that it stood up on her head like a palm tree. It would have to do for the time being. Ben always had complimentary things to say about her hair, even when she herself was despairing over it. At first she thought he was just being nice but now she realized that he genuinely liked it. Then again Jemmiah had discovered that he just had an obsession about red hair in general.
//It's not as red as Rela's hair.// Jemmiah mused, posing infront of the mirror and giving a series of little half twirls, first one side and then the other. //I often wonder why Ben and Rela never dated each other. You know, I have a good mind to ask them. Just out of curiosity.//
* BEEP! *
"Oh, not you again!" Jemmy gritted her teeth and headed straight over to the holoterminal, relishing the prospect of being able to tell the person on the other end of the transmission to stick their head in the food prep unit. "Right! This is war! If I'm late for my day out with Spider and Rela you are soooooo dead! Do you hear me? Sheesh! Where's Evla when you need her?"
Evla of course was at the crèche, tending to all the disgusting babies and slavering toddlers that dwelt within the chamber of horrors known as the nursery. How she could stand it was completely beyond Jemmiah, who was of the opinion that children should be removed from sight until they were old enough to ask for swoop flying lessons. Her guardian however seemed to adore the young children and the Corellian just couldn't see the attraction whatsoever. Then again she sometimes couldn't understand what had made Evla offer to take her in either. What had she ever seen in her?
"Certainly couldn't have been my mad hair that appealed to her!" Jemmy grumbled, rolling up her dressing gown sleeves and stalking the holoterminal like it was some kind of prey. She stood beside it for a moment, composing herself and taking a large, deep breath to relax herself. Releasing it, she fixed a smile on her face reminiscent of a Red Snapper hunting in the swamps of Southern Corellia.
"Good morning, Tzu-Yitcha's laundry service. Can I be of assistance?" she asked in an overly sweet voice.
"Eh?" a familiar, if choked voice on the other end replied after a moment had passed.
"We have three main services: sonic wash, steam clean and plain old-fashioned water. Guaranteed to get the most persistent stains out of the oldest pair of undergarments. No disintegration or your money back!" Jemmy purred into the transmitter.
"Jemmiah…is that you?" wheezed the voice in reply.
"We also do socks." Jemmy snapped back. "I recommend getting the socks done. That way if they do disintegrate it'll be no loss. Ben!" She glowered at him, squinting at his image on the holo screen. "What do you think you are doing? I'm supposed to be getting ready to…"
"Jemmy, I'm sick." Groaned Obi-Wan.
"What?"
"Really, really sick." He stared up at her through reddened eyes, skin looking distinctly clammy and lustreless.
"Again???" Jemmy's eyebrows performed the 'I don't believe it' dance that Obi-Wan had cause to know really well over the past years. "Why, what's wrong with you this time?"
He sighed mournfully, shoulders sagging.
"I don't know." He muttered. "I'm all shivery and cold."
"Put an extra blanket on." Jemmy folded her arms unsympathetically.
"And my head is pounding."
"Lie down then." Jemmiah offered.
"And my skin is all prickly."
"Could be lice." The Corellian voice grunted back.
"Jemmy…I could be dying here. You don't seem to be treating this with the seriousness it deserves!" Obi-Wan coughed, a deep raking sound that even had Jemmiah wincing in sympathy.
She scrunched up her face in thought, wondering what he expected her to say.
"Ben, you are not dying. What you have there is a cold, that's all. Take something for it and go back to bed. Put yourself into a nice, sustaining healing trance and this time tomorrow you will be…"
"Dead." Obi-Wan held his head in his hands. "That's what I'll be. That's how I feel."
"Why are you men so feeble?" demanded Jemmiah, shaking her head despairingly. "You have a cold and you think that it's double pleurisy!"
"That's because with me it usually turns into double pleurisy!" Obi-Wan was still stung by her lack of sympathy. If he died suddenly would she even care? He was seriously beginning to doubt it.
"Go to the healers then." She replied finally.
Obi-Wan's eyes, sleep encrusted and gummed up as they were managed to convey the horror he felt at her words.
"How can - you even - say - that?" he demanded, his words interspersed with coughing. "You are a cruel woman!"
"If you won't go to the healers there can't be that much wrong with you."
Stalemate. He wouldn't budge and neither would she. His next tactic was obvious, the one he usually resorted to when he wanted to get his way. A last ditch attempt to gain her sympathy, reminding her of the circumstances he now found himself in, how he was all alone and unable to look after himself. It wasn't the first time he'd used such a technique. Only a few months ago when Qui-Gon had been called away on a matter of some urgency, leaving Obi-Wan behind for a matter of days, Obi-Wan had managed to come out in an almighty - if uncomfortable - rash that had covered seven tenths of his body. On that occasion he had gone to the Hell's Chance Cantina and overindulged, free from his master's watchful, hawk-like eyes.
"Have some respect for the mortally ill." Obi-Wan groaned. "Jemmy, please? Come over and visit me? I'm stuck on my own because my master's holed up on some backwater planet and can't get back until he manages to find a replacement transport."
//Yeah?// Jemmy registered that piece of information with considerable interest.
"How long's he going to be away for?"
"He doesn't know. But he thinks we might be looking at another week."
"Trust you to get germs when we could be having fun." Jemmiah groused. "If you thinking I'm letting you…breathe all over me you can think again."
"Jemmiah, I feel ghastly and I'm on my own. Please?" he begged her with somewhat deranged looking eyes.
"What, now?"
"Yes, if you could." He wheedled her.
"But I'm going to go out with…" she let her words trail away to oblivion.
How many times when she had been younger, still suffering from her over-burdened and severely weakened immune system, had Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon sat anxiously beside her bed? Not exactly holding her hand but at least trying to help her recover as quickly and painlessly as possible, using the force to speed up her convalescence…and now she was about to turn her back on her ailing boyfriend? It sounded ungrateful and inconsiderate, and she was inclined to be neither. She couldn't really justify putting her day of gallivanting and shopping before the welfare of a somewhat hypochondriac Obi-Wan, could she?
//Damn!// Jemmiah wanted to smack the worktop before her. /Damndamndamn!//
"Okay. I'll be round. But you'd better really be sick!" She warned him with a reproving finger. "Or germs will be the least of your problems, got that?"
She cut the transmission off abruptly, not wanting him to see how disappointed she was. How long had they been planning to go out together? Rela was going to be most put out…
*****
"W-what did you say?" Rela asked over the static of her com link. "Say again?"
Jemmiah closed her eyes and began again. Telling Rela she was calling off at such short notice was bad enough, but having to do it over a very dodgy holo connection was making matters so much more difficult.
"I said I can't go shopping today." Jemmy repeated. "Obi-Wan's sick."
"Did you say…can't go…sick?" Rela's voice wavered for a moment and Jemmy wondered if she'd lost the connection completely.
"Yeah…Rel, I can't hear you very well. Can you hear me at all?"
"Sorry…connection…kriffing…hate this lousy…very bad…stupid Brak…kick him when I next…can't hear you…"
"Rela…I CAN'T GO OUT! Did you get that? Obi-Wan says he's ill. Sounds like he's coughing his last to be honest. All he does is just lie there and groan a lot."
"…What's new?" Rela's voice became momentarily sharp and loud, and somewhat insinuating.
"You heard that bit, I notice." Jemmy said wryly.
"Sorry…brea…king up aga…in…kriffing…Brak…murd…er…him…"
"Rel, I have to go. I'm so very sorry." Jemmy pouted miserably. "He's not well and with Master J being away I guess I should look after him. He's complaining of headaches and nausea. He's convinced that if he goes to the healers they'll tell him its' Nubian Blister Fever or something potentially fatal like that."
Rela paused for a long moment.
"Hello? Rela?" Jemmy yelled at the connection. "You still there?"
"Jem…shouldn't you…isola…tion…he's…so…sick…?"
"Rel? You're awful distant!"
"Nu…bian…fev…er…very…danger…ous…might catch it…off…"
"Hello? Rela, I'm sorry but I have to go now. I can't hear what you are saying. I hope you don't mind but I have to stay by his side because he won't let me leave him. I was looking forward to going shopping as well," she attempted to wither the door to Obi-Wan's bedroom with a heated glare worthy of a rampaging Draigon, "but I guess that's the way my life goes. Please say sorry to Spider when you see her. Tell her to pick me out a nice, black mourning outfit. I have the feeling," the glare heightened on the back of the door, "that somebody might be needing it quite soon. Bye for now, Rel."
Jemmy drummed her fingers on the work surface, her thoughts extremely gloomy. It was just typical of her luck to get saddled with a sick Obi-Wan. A fully fit Obi-Wan was a much better proposition. The force evidently had other ideas. The one time they had the place to themselves - and they couldn't use it to it's best advantage. Judging by the way her boyfriend was complaining if they attempted anything of the sort the he'd probably pass out with the effort.
"I hate the force." Jemmy repeated.
"Jemmy…" Obi-Wan groaned from inside his room. "Could you get me a glass of water?"
"Now I REALLY hate the force!" Jemmiah snapped, marching through to the kitchen area. "Okay, okay! Keep your braid on…"
********
Rela let her arms slap aimlessly at the side of her body. Trust Kenobi to mess things up!
Still, Nubian fever was extremely serious. There had been an epidemic on Ylix just a year ago, which had led to a mass of hysteria regarding inoculations, precautions against the illness and generally panic whenever similar symptoms were spotted. The infirmaries were swamped with patients fearing they had contracted the illness. Obi-Wan was in the best hands as far as being at the temple was concerned but still…
And Qui-Gon wasn't even there.
The truth was she didn't feel like going shopping anymore, but neither did she feel like getting too close to Obi-Wan either. She wasn't being a rat, just sensible. How could she help Obi-Wan by catching the illness herself? Jemmiah was much braver than she was, sitting by his side and mopping his brow. Given her own medical history Rela was surprised the healers had let her anywhere near him! And then if Jemmy were in contact with him they would have to keep her away from Evla in case she passed the diseased onto the crèche kids! It looked as though Jemmiah was getting her wish to spend more time alone with Obi-Wan after all…
She called Spider to tell her the bad news, and the girl with the bi-colored hair had simply agreed that it was a waste of time going shopping when they were worried about what might happen to Obi-Wan and Jemmiah, then declared she was going to lock herself inside her apartment until the inevitable epidemic died down.
Oh, and did Rela know what the incubation period was for the disease? Because all four of them had gone drinking together only three nights ago…
Rela swallowed. She hadn't thought about that.
Looking down at her arms she almost imagined that she were coming out in fulminating blisters, but then she saw they were freckles and calmed herself down. The way she was carrying on she might as well be Obi-Wan…even if it sounded like he had good reason to be sorry for himself. Nubian fever was not a pleasant thing to get by all accounts.
Mrs. K! She would know about Nubian fever! She knew everything about each illness in existence - the woman was a walking medical encyclopaedia (and had no doubt suffered from each and every one at some point or other). Her mind thus resolved, Rela straightened her jacket and headed next door. And considering the mess he'd made repairing her holo connection, Brak had better pray he didn't meet her on the stairs outside!
*********
"Nubian fever!" Edna Krabople made the ancient Ympranese sign of luck to ward away evil spirits, using a single finger in the air. "My goodness! How terrible…I remember when I was a little girl there were cases of Nubian fever all over Coruscant! It cut swathes into the population on the West Side of the planet, terrible, horrible…disfiguring for life all those who survived it's ungodly ravages!"
"Survived?" Rela's eyes grew wide. "I know it can be downright nasty but still…"
"Oh, that poor young man and that dear, sweet girl! This is such an awful thing to happen! Cut down in the very flower of life!"
"Cut down? He's going to be fine…you don't know the old misery like I do." Rela felt herself becoming more and more shaky. "He'll fight it off."
"The mortality rate for Nubian fever is eighty five percent!" Edna shoved a book under Rela's nose, highlighting the relevant disease with her fingernail. "See? There…after it talks about continual and involuntary defecation."
Rela swallowed.
"I don't feel so good. I'm gonna go lie down." She replied. "And don't tell anyone about this. We don't want a mass panic on Coruscant! I think somehow that would be very, very bad indeed…"
"Oh, you can rely on me my dear Rela!" Edna called after her as Rela grabbed hold of the door outside and then clutched instinctively at the railings, pushing herself back to her apartment. "I won't say anything that I shouldn't!"
As Rela reflected that Spider's idea of locking herself away was not too bad after all, Mrs. Krabople ran instinctively towards the holoterminal, carefully shooing Tuffy out of the way.
"I'm sorry, Tuffy dearest." She tried to pacify her disgruntled looking pet ferret, rolling on his back for attention. She gave his tummy the briefest of tickles before keying in the number of one of her closest friends in her neighborhood watch scheme. Mrs. Dulip would surely know exactly what to do.
SQUEAK!
"Don't look at me like that. I know what I am doing…it's only a little call. Maybe one or two others, but that's it. I promise…hello? Ephesia, is that you? You'll never guess…the most terrible thing has happened virtually on our own doorsteps!"
Tuffy gave in with a final desolate squeak and went off in search of shiny treasure.