Title: Of Sickness, Bets and Revelations

Author: tika12001

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: not mine, etc etc. If they were mine, Jane and Maura would be kissing and I would be happy.

Authors note: OMG I wrote a story, a fairly long story too! Okay, it's not as long as what I usually get half way through and then lose interest in, but I FINISHED it, and this is PROGRESS. :-D I'm so proud. I'll be posting one chapter a day :-)

Maura Isles was ready to go. A big smile lit up her face as she jogged over to her best friend's house, ready for their morning run. Finally reaching her door, she jogged in place as she rapped smartly with her knuckles, starting to run in small, tight circles as she waited for Jane Rizzoli to come out, perhaps not as eager but still ready to go. There was no answer to her knock however, and so she knocked again. When there was no answer yet again, and no hint of movement behind the door, Maura stopped jogging, cocking her head on the side in thought even as she panted slightly. With a triumphant smile, she pulled out her keys, sorted through them and found the one for Jane's door, letting herself inside.

The first thing that hit her was a wave of overly warm, slightly pungent air. Maura's gaze furrowed in consternation as she took a deep breath and crossed the threshold. "Jane?" she called out. There was no response, so Maura headed over to Jane's bedroom door. She knocked on it three times, opened it, and immediately wrinkled up her nose at the immediate strong smell of sick that wafted out. "Jane?" she called again, peering through the darkness towards the bed, upon which stood what looked like some kind of blanket formed tent. Maura wondered vaguely why Jane was making a tent out of blankets when she was a) an adult, b) indoors and therefore not in any need of a tent for shelter or protection, especially one made out of such flimsy material as a simple blanket (wool, cotton or fleece are perfectly wonderful items for use in warming the body; however they would provided only minimal protection in the elements) and c) apparently quite unwell, when she realized that the 'tent' was actually Jane, curled up under what appeared to be every single blanket she owned. "Oh no," Maura mumbled, heading over to the bed on tiptoes while Jane moaned pitifully at her.

"Are you sick?" Maura asked when she reached the side of the bed, looking down at the very pale face of her friend.

Jane opened one eye and glared up at Maura. Maura noticed that that one eye was very bloodshot, and mused that the burst and irritated blood vessels were perhaps caused by the force of the vomit she had obviously been forced to expel from her body. "No, I'm hunky dory. Ready to go for a run?"

"Oh, well I don't think that is a good idea. Based on the amount of blankets you have decided to place over your body and the fact that you are still shivering, you are most decidedly running a temperature. I have also judged this..."

"Maura," Jane interrupted softly, holding back a cough.

"...based on the fact that you have the heater running, even though the weather outside is quite pleasant, although I have not physically checked your temperature yet. Also, the smell that wafted out of your room..."

"Maura," more forcefully this time, though still soft.

"...indicates that you have been rather ill in the last twelve hours, which will mean you will be extremely dehydrated. Also your complexion is rather worrying to me, as you..."

"Maura!" louder this time, but still Maura continued, lost in her train of thought.

"...are rather pale and pasty, thereby indicating influenza like symptoms as your body has decided to transport the blood elsewhere in your body in order to fight your illness. I suggest that before we do any running, you stay in bed for a minimum of three days, keep warm, have soup, and drink plenty of..."

"MAURA!"

"...water," Maura finished lamely, biting her lip and looking down at Jane's bedspread, gently playing with a corner of it.

"Thank you Maura, but please don't do the Google mouth thing when I'm too sick to yell at you properly."

"Why would you yell at me?" Maura asked, her eyes wide and slightly hurt as she jerked her head up to stare at Jane.

"I wouldn't! I mean... I would... but... ohhh," Jane suddenly stopped and groaned, clutching at her stomach. Maura leapt back from the bed.

"Uh oh! Uh oh! Uh oh! Bucket! Bucket, bucket, bucket!" she cried, gesticulating wildly towards the bucket placed alongside the bed. Jane swept it up and thrust her head down into it. Maura crinkled up her nose at the sounds coming from her best friend but sat down on the bed next to her with a couple of tissues in her hand anyway. When Jane finished, Maura handed her the tissues and gingerly took the bucket away, moving into the bathroom to tip it out and disinfect it, afterwards washing her hands thoroughly. She walked back into the room with the bucket, coming back just in time to see Jane hawking up some phlegm into a tissue. "Eww!" she cried, watching the tissue's descent as it sailed over the edge of the bed and hit the wastepaper basket with amazing accuracy.

"What?" Jane moaned, falling back on the bed and throwing an arm over her eyes.

"I don't like phlegm," Maura replied delicately, placing the bucket back in its original position and perching on the edge of the bed again. Jane moved her arm so she could look at Maura through one eye.

"You're kidding me."

"What?"

"You cut up dead people for a living, you just got rid of my puke without grimacing, and PHLEGM freaks you out?"

"Well," Maura said, a slight frown forming on her face, "it's just so green... and wobbly. It's like jello. Except it's creepier."

Jane groaned at the word wobbly and put her arm back over her eyes, but moved it again at the word creepier. "You don't like jello?"

"I didn't say that."

"You practically did. What's wrong with jello?"

Maura opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, then stood up and headed to the bathroom. "I'm going to grab the thermometer and check your temperature."

"What's wrong with jello?" Jane asked again, and Maura took the opportunity to shove the recently acquired thermometer into her mouth.

"No talking," she ordered bossily. Jane rolled her eyes but obeyed, waiting for the beep that indicated she was free to talk again. When it came, Maura immediately whipped the thermometer out and checked the temp, raising her eyebrows slightly. "Huh. 102. Definitely a high temperature but not too bad for the moment, we don't need to go to the hospital or anything unless it rises above 104, 105... Have you had any medicine to bring your temperature down?"

"I'm hot, baby," Jane moaned, closing her eyes. She opened them again when she sensed Maura moving closer and almost jumped when she saw that Maura was only about a foot away from her face, frowning at her. The only thing that forced her to stay still was the thought of what her evil, rebellious stomach might do to her if she moved.

"Are you delirious?" Maura asked seriously.

"Am I... hey!"

"Just checking," Maura said, already moving back over to Jane's bathroom. Judging by the sounds, Maura was opening cupboards and inspecting Jane's somewhat mediocre first aid materials. "Really, Jane? This is all you have?" Maura called out. Jane flapped her arm in Maura's general direction. "Aha!" Maura came out of the bathroom holding a glass of water and a couple of tablets. "Sit up and take these," she ordered, then, as an afterthought, "please."

"You are so the bossy one in this relationship," Jane mumbled, even as she slowly levered herself up. She stared at the tablets as though they were guilty of some secret sinister agenda.

"Jane, you will not get well if you don't take these. If you vomit again, I will give you more in a couple of hours," Maura paused, "Unless you vomit immediately of course. Just take them."

Jane's shoulders slumped, she pouted, but she held her hand out for the tablets and the water, gulping them down. There was one precarious moment where she lunged for the bucket while her stomach heaved dangerously, but ultimately they stayed down. At least for the time being. "Thanks," she mumbled, falling back against the pillows.

"You're welcome. And I am not the bossy one."

"Oh, you so are," Jane answered sleepily as her eyelids grew heavy.

When Jane next came to full consciousness, it was to the sounds of birds chirping merrily outside. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, noticing as she did so that somehow since she had fallen asleep, her bed sheets and blankets had been changed as well as her sleep clothes. She also noticed that, while she still felt terrible, she did feel a bit better, and... there were noises in the kitchen. She crawled out of bed and tiptoed over to her clothes, feeling for her gun. There was the holster, but it was empty. "Shit!" she mumbled, turning around to look at the corner where she kept her baseball bat. It was gone as well. She frowned, deciding to creep to the kitchen to see what was going on.

Unfortunately, that plan worked well under normal circumstances, but it's not such a great plan when you've been as ill as she had been. She made it halfway down the hall before she bumped into one wall, another quarter before she bumped into another, and then took half a step and promptly ended up falling down on her ass in the kitchen doorway. So much for the stealthy approach. Fortunately for Jane though, it was just Maura in the kitchen, seemingly cooking up enough food for an army of soldiers.

"Hi!" she said chirpily, as though Jane hadn't just made an ass of herself in front of her. "You should be in bed."

"I don't want to be in bed. My sheets are gross and sweaty," Jane mumbled, hauling herself to her feet and stumbling over to a chair, flopping down into it. As she did so, she noticed the gun and baseball bat placed neatly on the table in the corner of the room... probably so she wouldn't accidentally shoot herself or Maura as she stumbled out to see what was happening in the kitchen. Or give herself a concussion with the bat somehow.

Maura frowned and stopped cutting the 17 bajillion vegetables she had piled in front of her. Jane noticed she was wearing what looked like a 50's style red and black tight dress, along with a bright red apron, and, of course, killer red stilettos. "Your sheets shouldn't be gross and sweaty; I changed them for you last night."

Jane looked down at herself pointedly. Maura pointed at her with the knife. "That was your mother."

"Oh," Jane nodded, then suddenly looked around frantically. "Ma's here?"

"No, I sent her home this morning."

"Oh," Jane relaxed. It wasn't that she didn't love her mother, it was just that she tended to get very hover-y and over-the-top-y when one of her kids was sick. "Wait, what day is it?"

"Tuesday. 4pm. Oh, actually, 4:02," Maura lifted up her shoulders briefly, curling her lips at Jane.

"But we were supposed to go running on Sunday."

"Yes, we were," Maura nodded in answer, sliding a pile of neatly cut vegetables into a large pot.

Jane stared at her. "Maura! What happened?"

Maura frowned and looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"How did it get to Tuesday, Maura?" Jane asked, almost frantic.

"Oh! You were sick. You were asleep most of the time. Your mother looked after Bass for me, and I've been staying here. I called us both in sick for the whole week. You need the rest, and I need to make sure you're eating properly."

"You called in sick too? Maura, you can't lie." Maura mumbled something under her breath. "What was that?" Jane asked.

Maura busied herself cutting up the carrot, finally responding after a few minutes. "They can't see my hives over the phone," she said, shame-facedly. "And I practiced my breathing beforehand so I wouldn't pass out while talking. I may have gotten light headed afterwards though," she added in a mumble.

Jane gaped at her like a fish for a few seconds, finally laying her head on her arms and laughing slightly. After a minute she raised her head and looked at the enormous pot that was currently simmering away on her stove with about a bajillion vegetables in it. "So, exactly how many people are we having over for dinner?"

"Just you and me," Maura replied, scraping yet more vegetables into the pot.

"So why are you making enough food for the whole Boston police force and their dogs?"

Maura paused in stirring the vegetables. "I... oh. I suppose it is a bit much, isn't it."

"Uh, yeah," Jane replied, rolling her eyes even as a smile played about her lips.

"I... I just wanted you to get well, and you haven't eaten, except for the crackers your mother force fed you and you need to eat something other than crackers, so I went out and I bought vegetables and chicken so I could make chicken soup."

"That's great Maura, but isn't chicken soup good for colds and flu's? I had a vomiting bug."

"Ah!" Maura said, and a smile lit up her face, "Well, yes, it appeared as though you did, but you were also obviously suffering from some nasal congestion as well as an abnormally large amount of viscid mucus being excreted from the respiratory tract. This indicates that while you certainly had some gastrointestinal... unpleasantness, the effects of that may have been caused by an influenza bug, which would also explain the high temperatures and muscle soreness you complained of."

"I don't remember muscle soreness."

Maura nodded, "Well, you were pretty out of it. Not enough to stop complaining of course, but..." she laughed, but faltered as she caught Jane's glaring gaze, rapidly changing topic, "Anyway, did you know that chicken broth was actually considered a restorative in the ancient world? It was believed that the thin consistency of broth would be easier to digest, thereby kinder on the stomachs of the ill person or persons; additionally the colour is similar to human complexion, so it was consequently considered nourishing. Isn't that fascinating?"

"Unbelievably fascinating," Jane dead-panned.

Maura smiled brightly, not noticing the sarcasm, and continued her speech. "Well, whatever the cause of the original belief, it survived into the Middle Ages, particularly noted throughout the Mediterranean and Western Europe. Moslems and Jews were particularly taken with the beliefs of the healing powers of chicken broth. In fact, it is sometimes known as the 'Jewish Penicillin'," Maura laughed slightly even as she bent down again to focus on her careful and concise vegetable cuttings.

Jane groaned and let her head thump down onto her arms again. "Please stop," she requested into her arms.

Maura frowned. "I thought you were interested."

"I've just had..." Jane paused as she considered, "four days of gastrointestinal 'unpleasantness', headaches, high temperatures, and, apparently, muscle soreness, I don't really feel like being heralded with the entire history of the chicken!"

"Chicken broth, actually."

"What?"

"You said 'chicken', but I was only talking of chicken broth."

Jane threw her hands up in the air. "Whatever!"

"Also, three days."

"Huh?"

"You said you had gastrointestinal issues for four days, it was only three. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, which is today," Maura counted off on her fingers brightly. Jane splayed her hands flat on the counter and leaned forward.

"It started on Saturday," Jane stated smugly, then leant back slightly. Her eyes widened though as Maura turned to her with sad eyes.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I... I..." Jane spluttered, "I was kinda a little bit busy with my head in a toilet in case you hadn't noticed!"

"Still," Maura said, sliding yet more vegetables into the now steaming pot and stirring the contents. Jane swore she could see a slight pout on her lips, "I would have come over."

"But I couldn't call," Jane replied slowly and carefully, as though she was speaking to a toddler rather than the incredibly intelligent woman in front of her, "I was too busy puk... ah forget it. I'm going back to bed."

"I'll join you soon."

Jane stopped in her slow and painful journey across the floor (apparently, the muscle soreness wasn't quite gone yet. Or perhaps the soreness was from her spectacular failure of sneaking down the hallway earlier) and turned around slowly with one eyebrow raised.

Maura put her head on the side as though confused as to why Jane was staring at her. She appeared to think back over the most recent things said, quickly adding. "With the soup! With the soup, I mean. I will join you when the soup is ready so you can eat it."

Jane nodded slowly, feeling a smile curve her lips as she started the painful shuffle back to her delightful (and not gross or sweaty at all, Maura was right) bed. Maybe it wasn't so bad being sick after all.

END CHAPTER ONE

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