Great. Just Great. Part 5 ***** OK it's been a while I know.Sorry.I lost the ability to write for a while.

Yes, I have done research :) But I can't find it right now! I'm sure the stuff is pretty close to accurate. ***** Bosco closed the bathroom door behind him, and went about getting ready for his bath. He still couldn't believe he was actually going to take a bath. He couldn't remember the last time he had taken one. Oh wait, yes he could. Nicole had talked him in to a bubble bath with her once, but he had only agreed cause she was naked under all those bubbles.

Slowly he stripped off his clothes, and dipped his toe into the water to test the temperature. It wasn't hot, but it wasn't cold; it was perfect. He slowly sat his sore, tired body into the tub. He closed his eyes, and leaned his head back against the tile-covered wall. ***** Faith kicked back on the couch with the pamphlet. She put her feet up on Bosco's coffee table, and opened up the tri-fold paper. Most of the stuff was everything that she all ready knew from taking care of Emily and Charlie when they had the chicken pox.

She was about to put the information down because she didn't think there was anything in it that she didn't all ready know when a word in bold caught her attention. Pneumonia. Faith raised an eyebrow. "Pneumonia?"

Her motherly concern took over as she read the information. "Chicken pox in adults can lead to pneumonia. About 25% of adults infected with this virus develop pneumonia. Some cases are more severe than others and require hospitalization. Men are more likely to acquire pneumonia."

Faith looked toward the bathroom door. Nervously she looked at the clock. "How long has he been in the tub?" She stood up and walked toward the bathroom. "Should I bother him? He's probably fine. I'm sure he's fine, but I haven't heard any noise from him. I'll just check on him real quick."

Tentatively she knocked on the door. She pressed her ear against the wood. He didn't answer her knock. She cupped her hand around her ear thinking it might help her hear better. There was no sound coming from the bathroom at all. Normally when her kids took a bath she could hear the water splashing around occasionally, but there was no sound coming from Bosco's bathroom.

Worry overtook her, and she quickly opened the door. "Bosco?"

He sat up quickly, and pulled his legs up to his chest. "What?! Get out Faith! I'm in the bathtub!"

"I know that," she said as she diverted her eyes to another part of the bathroom so she wasn't looking at him. "I just didn't hear any noise and I just.well I got worried."

Bosco let his legs stretch out in the tub, and some water splashed onto the floor. He leaned forward in an attempt to cover himself. "I think I fell asleep for a few minutes."

"Oh OK," she said softly before turning to leave. Faith smiled. "Hurry up or you'll be a prune." ***** A few minutes later Bosco came out of the bathroom in a pair of baggy flannel pajama bottoms. He had a t-shirt in his hand. As he approached Faith, who was once again sitting on the couch, he looked down at his stomach and then at his arms. He scrunched up his face. "Do you think I have more spots today?"

Faith reached out and took both of his hands in hers. She looked at his arms, and then turned his hands so the palms were up. "You've even got some between your fingers."

"That ain't the only place I got 'em," he said out of the side of his mouth.

"Do you have them-"

"You don't want to know."

"Does it hurt to---"

"Don't even go there Faith." He gave her a warning look, and shook his head quickly. "Just drop it."

Her gaze moved to his chest and stomach. "Yup I'd say more sports."

"Dammit." He plopped down next to her on the couch.

"How did that oatmeal scrub work?"

He shrugged. "Good I guess. My skin feels really tight. Like if I move too fast it'll rip."

"That's good. How are you feeling otherwise?"

"I don't know," his voice was getting raspy again.

"Throat still sore?"

"Yeah," he said softly.

"You might actually have some sores in your throat."

"Great." He pulled his oversized Yankees t-shirt over his head, crossed his arms, and leaned back into the cushions of the couch. Bosco yawned, and closed his eyes.

Faith sat looking at him. She then picked the pamphlet up off the table, and folded it before putting it in her pocket. Bosco didn't need to see it. He probably wouldn't freak out about it like she did, but he still didn't need to see it.

Once again she looked at him. Faith moved closer to him on the couch, and put the back of her hand on his forehead to check for a fever. His eyes were closed and he flinched at her touch, but quickly relaxed when he realized what she was doing.

"Well, you've definitely got a fever."

"That normal?" he asked as he turned his head to look at her.

"Yup. How do you feel otherwise?"

He sighed. "I'm tired, achy, my throats killing me and I'm extremely pissed off at that Seth kid for giving me chicken pox!" He rubbed at his throat for a minute. Faith just shook her head. She knew that even if his throat were raw it wouldn't stop him from complaining. "You do realize that I'm gonna be the laughing stock of the 5-5 when I get back to work?!"

She shrugged. "I think Swersky all ready put a stop to that."

"All ready? You mean everybody knows?!"

"Well yeah. I mean I had to tell them something, and I wasn't going to lie."

"Dammit Faith! You could have come up with something different!"

"Bosco their gonna figure it out anyway when you get back to work and you're still covered in scabbed over spots."

"You mean I have to go back to work lookin' like this?! How long before it goes away?! I can *not* go back to work lookin' like this! No way," he shook his head with determination. "Huh uh, not happenin'."