Upon his return, Gilbert found Anne in a state of fitful sleep, tossing and turning in her bed and murmuring incoherently. He placed his black, leather case on the floor and sat down next to her. Gilbert woke her from her less than tranquil sleep with a slight shake of the shoulders. "Hello, Anne," he smiled when her eyes stopped on his face. She relaxed when she saw it was him, blinking to keep her eyes from closing in sleep once more. "Gilbert," she voiced with great effort, as if unable to add anymore.

Gilbert, in turn, took her hand and announced, "I'd like for you to be awake during your check-up, Miss Shirley. That way you can let me know how I'm doing along the way."

His comment elicited the expected response from Anne - a smile - and he went on to check her pulse by lightly pressing two fingers to the side of her throat. Mere seconds confirmed her pulse to be slow and faint, her blood as if traveling through her veins with great fatigue.

Gilbert kept the imminent frown from creeping up on his face and busied himself by taking out a stethoscope from his case. "I'm going to listen to your heart next," he announced, bringing the instrument to his ears. "It might feel a little cold against your chest." His hand moved the bedcovers wrapped tightly around her body and Anne shivered in response. Gilbert's eyes lingered on the white nightgown she was wearing and he cleared his throat, cursing himself all the while. Now is not the time, DOCTOR Blythe, he reminded himself. As if Anne had picked up on his internal struggle, her fingers went to the buttons on the front of her nightshirt to help his predicament. Gilbert noticed that she had turned her head away from him at this point, her face flushed not just by the fever. Anne's fingers were trembling too much for the task, however, and she succeeded in clawing at the darn things at best.

Gilbert shook his head to clear his thoughts. No matter how awkward or strange or wonderful it was for him to be in that delicate situation, Anne, as a patient, needed him.

"Here," he offered, moving her hand away and proceeding to undo the buttons himself. He was rewarded with the sight of creamy porcelain skin, the smooth valley between her breasts right underneath his fingertips… Gilbert clenched his jaw, unhappy with the progression of his thoughts at such a time, and placed the stethoscope against Anne's chest. "Deep breaths for me," he instructed, finding his voice. Anne complied, still not making contact with his eyes. Her shivers did not subside through his examination even though her skin felt on fire to Gilbert. Damn it, her fever was easily over 105°, he assessed expertly. The stethoscope was removed from her chest and Gilbert announced, "we'll do the same with your back, Anne. Can you sit up for me?"

He gently helped her up by the arms, bringing her body forward with the motion. So great was her exhaustion, that Anne moved straight into Gilbert's arms. Her head found a resting place on his shoulder, her body light and malleable against his strong one. Gilbert leaned his head against hers, her hair surrounding his face with its flowery scent, as he went on to move the nightgown off her shoulders, down her arms, until it pooled into a heap around her lower back. Anne kept her arms close to her sides, her hands clasped together against her chest between her and Gilbert.

Gilbert's eyes met the ceiling as he wrapped his arms around her to continue his examination. Although, there was not much he could do to get the perfect curve of her shoulders out of his field of vision. It was also impossible to not notice -or enjoy- the feel of her soft skin against his fingers. He gently brushed her hair off to the side, exposing her swan-like neck in the process. "Deep breaths," Gilbert reminded her, reminded himself, while placing the instrument against her back. She was breathing against the side of his neck, warm and rhythmic…

Anne, half-naked in his arms; who would have ever thought this would actually materialize some day? Gilbert could not help but feel guilty about his thoughts and the scene that could so easily be misinterpreted by someone walking into the room, say Marilla. He swiftly freed his ears from the instrument he had been using moments earlier and shook himself out of his reveries. As if his hand had a life of its own, it slid down Anne's back in a light caress. He was more thankful than ever that Anne did not keep any slates in her room, for she could not possibly be approving of his behavior and would most likely be informing him of it had she been feeling like her old self. Gilbert pulled her garment over her exposed back before he could perform some other foolish act.

With Anne still in his arms, he reached down to his case to take out a syringe and a miniature glass container. "I have something that will make you feel better," Gilbert voiced to Anne as his hands worked skillfully behind her back, the syringe drawing up the liquid from the container in an effortless manner. "It's an injection, but you will barely feel a thing, I promise," he went on soothingly.

"I hate needles," Anne complained before burying her face in his chest. "I don't want it, Gilbert."

Gilbert's heart leaped with glee at the sound of his old Anne and he held back a laugh.

"Unfortunately, it's the only way, Anne," he remarked, tossing aside the now-empty container and using his free hand to rub her back in soothing motions. "Why don't you recite something to me, anything you want, and I promise to be done by the time you're finished."

Anne hesitated at first, but then adjusted her head in a more comfortable position on Gilbert's shoulder and began to recount "The Lady of Shallot" in a tone that was stuck halfway between slumber and consciousness. By the time she had finished narrating the Lady's unfortunate tale, Gilbert had injected the serum into her body with the greatest, calculated attention.

"You are a great patient, Anne," he smiled at her, helping her to newly place her head against her pillow.

"It's because you are a great doctor, Gil," Anne replied, moving to cover her body with the heavy bedcovers.

Gilbert caught her hands mid-movement and shook his head. "Your body is overheated; I need to get your temperature down." He proceeded to soak the small square cloths Marilla had provided into the basin filled with cool water, placing one on Anne's forehead and using the other one to lightly dab her neck and chest. He watched as Anne frowned, obviously not pleased with the shock her body was receiving. Her teeth began to chatter and Gilbert reached to hold her hand in a comforting gesture. "I know this doesn't feel nice but it will help with the fever."

Body trembling, Anne turned on her side, facing Gilbert, and attempted to bring her limbs closer to her body. A strand of hair fell over her eyes and Gilbert moved it aside with a gentle touch of his hand.

"Gilbert, I'm so c-cold," voiced Anne in a small voice, looking up at him through pleading eyes. She succeeded in melting his heart and he moved to take her into his arms so that his body heat would provide her some relief from the chills. Gilbert moved to adjust their position so that Anne was comfortable and heard her sigh in contentment.

"Better?" he asked, leaning his chin against her temple, whilst running his fingers through her long hair.

"Much."

By the time Marilla made her way into the bedroom with a full tray in hand, Anne had fallen asleep in Gilbert's arms, her breathing more even and regular than it had been before.

"Gilbert…" whispered Marilla, stealing a glance at Anne's face before placing the tray on the nightstand. "She looks so peaceful. God bless you, child!"

Gilbert removed the cloth from Anne's forehead and dipped it into the cool water once more before replacing it with great care. "I'm afraid she is not out of the woods yet, but what I've given her will help bring her core temperature back to normal and help to fight the infection."

"She's been so miserable," Marilla shook her head while running her hands down the apron she was wearing. "Diana and her family have never had scarlet fever and so have not been able to come over. They have been baking goodies for Anne everyday."

Anne stirred and Gilbert waited until she settled back in his arms before speaking. "I'll make sure to wake her up in a little bit so that she can eat, Marilla." He glanced over at the tray of hot food to emphasize his point.

Marilla patted his arm in an affectionate manner and gave him a small smile. "I am not worried Gilbert. She is in good hands. Let me know if there is anything else I can do, please."

Gilbert nodded in response and Marilla started towards the door. Then, as if considering something, Marilla stopped in her tracks.

"Love is the best medicine," was the final pearl of wisdom she offered before the door closed softly behind her. Gilbert's eyes traveled down to the woman in his arms, to her dear little nose, constellation of freckles, her proud chin and full lips. Gilbert couldn't help but cradle Anne even closer.