One Mountie Down
Fraser had given up on trying to help. Every time he had moved to help he was ordered back down. For someone who was used to offering assistance at every turn, being ordered to sit still while others around him did their duty was a foreign experience and fought against his nature. Mrs. Vecchio offered Fraser some tea laced with honey.
"Thank you kindly," Fraser said as he smiled at the aroma. It hurt to talk.
With Ray being out of the Vecchio house, Fraser felt even more out of place. He wasn't sure how long his friend was going to be but he wished there was just some way he could cease to feel like some sort of freeloader. Fraser stood up once again.
"What you doing, Benny?" It was Francesca who spoke.
"Oh I was getting a blanket actually," Fraser explained. He had spent some time at the Vecchios and knew the outlay of their house quite well.
Francesca eased him on to the couch. She didn't mind... Any reason to put her arm around the mountie suited her just fine. "I'll get it," it was just short of scolding the man. Fraser was left on the couch. Slowly losing the will to fight their caring.
Ray Vecchio had to fight past Diefenbaker to get through the door. "Woah... Wait! No, Dief... No!" He tried to order the deaf wolf but it was to no avail. At times it looked as if Diefenbaker and Fraser never agreed on anything but when it came to the crunch, they were there for each other. The wolf almost knocked Ray over as it sprinted into the living room to see its companion.
The sudden appearance of the wolf shocked everyone at first. But they soon settled down once Diefenbaker settled near the couch where Fraser was sleeping soundly. "Hey," Ray tapped him on the shoulder.
Fraser moaned before opening his eyes. "Sorry," he said before sitting up. It was said that sleep was for recuperation but he felt worse than before. "I didn't mean to fall asleep," he said as he took the sleepwear from Ray's grasp.
"You right with that?" Ray asked as Fraser slowly got to his feet.
"Yes Ray," he answered quickly.
"I can help," Francesca smiled. She was blocked by an impatient looking Ray. "I was just offering Ray... Sheesh," she told him.
"You can take the spare room," Mrs. Vecchio told Fraser. He nodded before making his way into the shower.
During the night
Even in the darkened room with a growing headache and sore throat he could sense two presences in his room. One was his companion who wasn't about to leave his side. The other was wiping down his brow. That was when he knew that his fever must have worsened but he knew it couldn't be bad.
"That feels nice," Fraser said. His arms lay freely above the blankets.
"Your fever's high... This should help out," Francesca's voice told him.
"Thank you," Fraser said. "You shouldn't have to be awake during the night," he added. He regretted talking as he just managed to cover his mouth when he coughed. He laid back down, not in the mood to argue anything.
"You're welcome, Benny," Francesca said.
Fraser held his face near the ice and looked at the large stone. In the distance he could see the target area. He held the 'stone' by the handle. The ice was softening beneath his face. He could see the ice melting just below him. 'Oh dear' he said. 'oh dear' he fell into the icy cold water as the crowd refused to offer any assistance. He felt himself trapped beneath, unable to grip anything.
"Hey?"
Fraser opened his eyes. It was the same voice that woke him up from his curling nightmare. "Francesca?" Fraser asked.
"You okay?" She asked. The mountie had always been so energetic and full of life but now he was one mountie down. Usually, she had fantasies about getting Fraser in bed but not like this.
"Just a dream," Fraser answered. He knew that he must be in bad shape since he was slipping in and out of a dream state so easily.
"What was it about?" She asked him.
"Just playing curling back in Canada," Fraser answered. That was something he missed. He wondered whether it was viable to start up a curling club in Chicago. A sport of skill and concentration could really help the young people and old people alike. And there's a certain amount of teamwork involved.
Fraser found himself back on the ice. "Welcome back to the Curling Championships," the voice over said. "The ice is clear and Benton Fraser is back behind the stone," Fraser shook his head and wiped some of the sweat from his forehead. He was on hands and knees, with his face almost touching the ice as he determined the amount of force needed to knock the opponent's stone out of the way but keep his own in the circle. Sweat began dripping off his face and landing on the ice.
He went to climb his knees but found his body being stuck to the surface. His sweat had hardened into imprisoning ice. "Oh dear," he mumbled as he attempted to break free.
"This is never good," the voice over boomed loudly. "That is why the air conditioning and fans are going full throttle. It's never good when someone sweats on the ice. Curler Benton Fraser has three minutes to take this shot or will forfeit the current round," the voice over said.
His team mates rushed to him and began using hairdryers to melt the ice holding Fraser down. "Wait," Fraser said. The realization of what was about to happen hit him. It was too late. The heat from the hairdryers began to melt all the ice away. Once again Fraser ended up in the water.
Morning
"How's he doing?" Ray asked as he stepped into the room.
Fraser could tell that it was morning because of the sunlight seeping through the closed curtains. He waved to Ray and pointed to his throat. "Just a little sore. Will be up and around in no time," Fraser assured him.
"I'm going to go down to the chemist to pick up some flu tablets," Ray said.
"That's very kind of you, Ray," Fraser said. Perhaps with rest and maybe some medication would speed up his recovery.
"There's no need to thank me, Fraser. All I'm doing is going to the Pharmacy," Ray said. He felt like he was getting sucked into some sort of Mountie guilt trip. "And Ma is making you chicken soup," Ray passed the message that was given to him. "All right. I'll pick you up a big bottle of water as well," he told him.
"That is very kind of you, Ray. I do feel slightly dehydrated," Fraser said.
"Alright you win... Just stop it, okay?" Ray said with annoyance.
"Stop what, Ray?" Fraser responded with a confused look.
"That! Okay I'll pick you up some throat lollies to... You happy?" Ray asked him. "Oh, I'll get a hot dog for Diefenbaker as well," Ray said as he quickly left the bedroom so he wasn't able to commit to purchasing anything else.
"Thanks, Ray," Fraser regretted raising his voice.
"Yeah, yeah," Ray called out from the hallway without stopping.
It was out of pure politeness that Fraser was able to finish the chicken soup. Even though the flu symptoms were wreaking havoc on his sensitive taste buds he didn't want to act rude by commenting on that aspect. He wrapped himself up in a blanket, ignored his body's stiff protests and made his way to the kitchen with the empty bowl being extra careful as to not trip over the blanket that reached to his feet.
"What are you doing out of bed?" Mrs. Vecchio admonished Fraser who just held up his bowl in response. "Keep this up and I may just tie you to the bed," she warned him.
Francesca laughed. "I can cuff him to the bed," she smiled.
She often used handcuffs as a tool to threaten Fraser. Without saying a word, he sat on the couch once again. "Are you feeling any better?" Mrs. Vecchio asked. She placed a hand on his cheek. She did not like how warm to touch he felt.
"A little better," Fraser answered. He was being truthful. He was able to move around for a little bit. And he had managed to get some sleep. Not a lot but definitely some. Perhaps if he moved around a bit he can trick his body into thinking its getting better, therefore speeding up the recover progress.
A/N: Don't worry... Next chapter will be better as Sick Mountie still helps Ray out in the field. Also I must apologize for the long delay. But now got a few ideas for this story.