Reid gave her offer of food a dubious look and absentmindedly rubbed his stomach.

"I don't think I'd be able to keep anything down."

"You need something in you, you look like death warmed over," Emily told him. "Food will make you feel better. And warm you up" she added when he started to shiver again.

"Can you stop comparing me to Death," Reid complained plaintively.

"When you stop looking like it," she retorted.

He huffed at her.

"Some soup," she tempted. "Something smooth with no bits in it."

He had blanched at the thought of food chunks. She didn't blame him. Poor choice of words on her part. She gave him an apologetic look.

"Maybe later," he tried.

She shot down that thought quickly, "Yeah, no."

"You can't make me eat."

Emily's hands shot to her hips and an eye brown raised.

"Want to try me?" She demanded.

"It's illegal."

"No, it's not advised. You're allowed to do it."

"Under a set of certain and very specific circumstances, Emily!"

"Poh-tay-toe, poh-tah-toe."

"That doesn't even make any sense!"

She couldn't help it, between his indignant expression and her determined feelings, she snorted. Reid pouted and that made her lose all control. They were both just so ridiculous. He was ridiculous. Apparently, her laughter was infectious because Reid's low chuckle joined hers only to alarmingly turn to that hacking cough. That quickly shut her up as she slipped next to him and pounded his back.

"What are we like?" She asked, leaning next to him.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm perfectly sane," Reid claimed.

She smacked him with a handily placed cushion. She had never realised Reid had cushions here.

"Hey!" He yelped, bringing his hands up to shield himself. "You can't do that! I'm sick!"

Emily flung the cushion at him.

"I'll tell Garcia," he threatened.

That did make her stop and think for a moment. Their technical analyst would not take kindly to anyone 'picking on' their genius when he was sick.

"Do you really want to let her know how awful you feel?" She challenged, knowing she had won.

"Maybe not, then," he replied quickly.

With a shared grin, they both leaned into his couch. Reid closed his eyes, looking exhausted again, actually more so than earlier if she was being honest with herself. Emily gnawed on a nail. She shouldn't have got him so worked up, it can't be good for him and she didn't want to get him even more ill or collapsing on her. She'd have to get Morgan over to help him and that would just be embarrassing.

"Stop it," he said.

Emily took her finger from her mouth and gave him a quizzical look.

Reid cracked an eye open.

"Do you know how many germs are on your hands?"

Emily rolled her eyes, of course he could sense when she was chewing the skin of her fingers. It skeeved him out.

"They're clean, I washed them," she said defensively.

"Then drove here. You're steering wheel is even worse," he argued.

She was offended at that. Her car was definitely not that bad. There was less crap in it than his (admittedly, it was all books and papers but still!) and definitely more hygienic than Morgan's. Emily shuddered at the memory of the 'Sweaty Towel' incident.

"I meant steering wheel on general," Reid amended. "Bacteria-"

Okay, she wasn't ill but she was going to be if he started talking about bacteria. She did not want to know how bad the inside of a car could be.

"I should probably get you some water," she interrupted, picking herself up and standing up again.

"Use the filter," Reid instructed her, rubbing his bleary eyes. "I've got coffee if you want some."

"Please."

He waved in the direction of his kitchen.

"Go ahead. Sorry I can't be a better host."

"You're sick and I'm not exactly here to be entertained," Emily told him sternly.

He smiled that shy smile at her. She refused to admit it made her melt a bit.

"Maybe I can have some too?" He asked eagerly.

"Were you not just saying that your stomach feels weird?"

"But coffee."

"No."

He practically wilted in front of her. Honestly, he was ridiculous over his coffee. He would live off it if he could, she was sure. Emily rolled his eyes at him and walked into the kitchen.

"Let's get you rehydrated. Are your glasses still over the sink?"

He nodded and stretched. Emily swore she heard something crack. She fixed their two drinks (yes, using the filtered water) and was waiting on the coffee so she looked around his kitchen for something she could tempt his appetite with.

"Do you have crackers or something?" She asked him.

Reid shook his head and looked guilty.

"Meant to go grocery shopping on Saturday."

"Reid!"

Emily really wasn't one to talk, she always left grocery shopping to the last minute (she hated it with a passion) but at least she was aware of the state of her cupboards! Unlike her oblivious friend who probably didn't even realise that he didn't have food until she pointed it out.

"It was a really interesting paper," he explained defensively.

"You need to take better care of yourself."

"I'm fine."

Ironically, he started coughing again. Emily just looked at him.

"Well, not now obviously. But that's not for a lack of eating."

"It doesn't help."

Reid was about to angrily retort, probably with something along the lines of having enough medical knowledge to know that but it died in his throat when he looked at her. Dammit, she usually hid her concern better than that. It was why he talked to her rather than Garcia or JJ.

"You need to eat something," she said over the awkward silence, handing him his glass.

"I will," he assured her with a soft smile. "Later. I'm not quite used to being upright yet."

"Lunchtime, then," she decreed as he gulped down the water.

Knowing better that to argue with her, he nodded his agreement.

She resisted the urge to pat him on the head like a well-behaved puppy.