God Rest Ye
A/N This story is a sequel to The Line That Must Not Be Crossed. You probably don't need to read that one to enjoy this one, but it might make more sense if you do.
Bobby awoke to a thrumming headache. He attributed it to poor sleep and put on a pot of coffee before calling his partner. She'd been sick with the flu. He'd seen her last night. She said she was feeling better, but he knew she was still feverish. He'd promised to call and check in on her.
"Good morning," she said, sounding tired but cheerful.
"Morning," he echoed back. "How are you?"
"I'm still tired, but I feel pretty good, considering. I think I'm going to make myself breakfast and take a shower."
Bobby smiled, still rubbing his temples. "You sound better," he told her.
"It's Christmas Eve," she told him. "You have plans?"
Bobby chuckled. Did he ever have plans on a holiday since his mother died? "No, you know, just watch some seasonal movies on TV and have a drink or two."
"I'm supposed to go to my sisters, but… I really don't want them all to come down with this."
"You're still feverish?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
"You ever heard of a thermometer?" he teased.
"I have no idea where it is. I've gotten through plenty of illnesses without it."
He raked his hand through his hair and grunted a reply.
Her face drew up in concern. "Hey. You okay?"
"Yeah, I uh… didn't sleep well. Headache."
"You know, this started with a headache."
"I don't have the flu."
"You were around me almost the whole time."
"I don't have the flu."
"All right, all right. You going in today?"
"Yeah."
"Call me when you decide to go home. I have something for you."
"Eames," he protested softly. She did this to him every year. Every year, they said they wouldn't get each other gifts, and every year she said she got "caught up in the spirit" and found something for him she couldn't resist.
"I know, Bobby, but I saw it and I knew you would love it. I want you to have it to open on Christmas."
"All right. I'll call you later."
"How's it coming?" The Captain asked Goren as he stopped by his desk.
Bobby stacked a few papers and stuffed them into a brown folder. "I just polished these, they're ready for the DA's office." He handed the folder to the Captain, who perused them quickly.
"Nice work. Now go home and enjoy your holiday."
"Sir?" He expected to have to work all day on Christmas Eve, and then take his vacation.
"You and Eames have been working Christmas for the last two years. Take your time, you've earned it."
"Thank you, sir… and happy holidays to you, as well. Chag Chanukah sameach."
"Thank you, Goren." He tapped the closed folder against Bobby's shoulder as he walked past, headed for his office.
Bobby's head was pounding, and the pills he'd taken didn't seem to be helping at all. He finished his coffee, threw on his coat, gathered his things, and headed home.
The hot wings he ate for lunch were not agreeing with him at all. He sat at his kitchen table, trying to focus on wrapping Eames' gift and not on the shooting pains in his digestive tract.
A little voice kept whispering the word "flu" in his ear, but he kept shutting it down. Bobby looked at the poor wrapping job and sighed. It would have to do. He shuffled to the bedroom and laid on his bed to take a short nap.
He lost the battle with the hot wings.
She was knocking on his door so hard that he thought his head was pounding in unison with her. Bobby rolled out from under the covers, thought for a moment that he might throw up again, then decided it was safe to walk to the living room instead.
"Eames, Eames," he groaned as he pulled the door open.
She frowned when she saw him. "Bobby, you're sick," she said, following him inside and closing the door.
He grumbled something incoherent and flopped in his recliner, closing his eyes against the aches and pains.
She followed him still, and pressed her hand against his forehead. "Is it the flu?" Alex asked.
He lifted his lids and stared at her with glassy eyes.
Alex took off her coat and tossed it over the back of the couch. "Well, I'll just have to take care of you, then."
"No, Eames."
"Bobby, you caught this from me. It's the least I can do. Besides, it's Christmas Eve."
"Just a day like any other," he complained.
She sighed and frowned at him, but he already had his eyes closed again. Alex went to the kitchen and saw the poorly-wrapped gift on the table. With a smile, she touched her hand to it. Then she turned and poured him a glass of water.
"You need to stay hydrated," she explained, bringing him the glass.
He frowned at her but allowed her to set the glass on the table beside his chair. Alex made herself comfortable on his couch. Bobby didn't intend to, but as he sat with his friend nearby, he drifted to sleep.
Alex looked Bobby over carefully. She could see his pale skin under his five o'clock shadow. She could see the flush in his cheeks. He seemed so helpless, lying in the recliner, and Alex knew all too well how he was feeling.
She got up from the couch and pressed the back of her fingers to his neck. She wasn't surprised to feel the heat coming from his skin. Alex let her hand move up to his curls, combing them gently. She found herself thinking about the conversation they'd had last night… about the line between friendship and something more.
Alex left him and went into the kitchen. She busied herself cleaning. She picked up the gift and brought it to the living room. Alex set it on the coffee table, next to the gift bag she'd brought with her when she arrived.
Bobby tried to turn to his side and moaned uncomfortably. Then he turned the other way. She went back to the kitchen and found a box of chicken stock and a bag of frozen vegetables. She started some soup simmering on his stove.
When she returned to the living room, he was gone. She took a few steps down the hall and heard the sounds of him retching in the bathroom. Alex frowned and went back out to the living room.
After several minutes, Bobby returned. He sank heavily into his chair and took a sip of the water she'd poured earlier. "You're still here?" he asked her.
Alex offered him a smile. "Where else would I be?" she said with a shrug.