Chapter 5

Mel jerked awake at the sound of a ringing phone. Next to her, Cole slumbered on, providing more than ample illumination for her to find the phone without difficulty. She answered it quickly, before the ringing could pull him from his much-needed rest. Trying to clear the sleep from her brain, she mumbled an incoherent greeting into the phone.

"Oh, sorry, Mel. Didn't mean to wake you..."

"S'okay, Jess," Mel yawned, leaning across the bed and resting her hand against Cole's cheek. The skin was still unnaturally cold, but she was a little comforted when he reached up in his sleep, catching her hand and nuzzling it. Sighing, she freed her hand and carried the phone into the living room. "How's it going?"

"I'm fine. Just wondering how you and Cole are holding up..."

"Uh, we're hanging in there okay."

"Is he sick? Jonas and I were worried about him."

Mel hesitated. "He'll be fine, I'm sure."

There was a long pause. "Is that a yes?"

"Well, he's a little under the weather," Mel admitted. "But it's nothing serious."

"You're sure?" Jess asked, concern coloring her voice. "I mean, he looked really peaked the other night..."

"It's not serious. He's... it's the chickenpox, Jess," Mel chuckled in spite of herself. Her big, strong, indestructible Tracker was bedridden because of the chickenpox. "He got them from Rebecca."

"Have you had him in to a doctor yet, Mel? I've heard that chickenpox can be damned serious in an adult..."

"So I noticed," Mel muttered. "No, Jess, he's fine. Just... patchy."

Jess chuckled. "Poor Cole... I can't believe he's never had it before."

"Yeah, well..." Mel shrugged. "You know. These things happen sometimes. Don't worry, though. I'm keeping an eye on him. He'll be fine."

"Well... if you're sure..."

"I am, Jess. Don't worry."

"Okay, Mel. What about you? How're you holding up? If you have your hands too full taking care of him, I can nip over..."

Mel winced. As much as she appreciated Jess' offer, as much as she could have used the help, there was no way that she could have the girl in the apartment when Cole was glowing in the dark and babbling in Cirronian. Telling her the truth about him under the best of circumstances would have been a questionable enough proposition. Telling her when Cole was in the kind of shape he was now... not an option.

"That's okay, Jess. He's a lot better already. He just needs to rest. I've got it covered."

"You sure, Mel? I don't want you overdoing..."

"Hey, you handle the bar like we talked about and I'll handle Cole and myself," Mel assured her. "We're both just fine, really."

"Yeah?" Jess asked uncertainly. "You sure, Mel?"

"I'm sure, Jess," Mel reassured the girl, dropping wearily onto the couch but not letting fatigue creep into her voice. "We just need rest. Cole especially. He's never been really sick before--"

"Either of you need company?" Jess offered.

"Nah, Jess, not right now. Neither of us is really thrilled about being sick and I doubt we'd make the best company."

"Okay... but if you change your mind..."

"We'll let you know," Mel promised. "Don't worry, Jess. It won't be for much longer." I hope...

She looked up as Cole walked into the living room, wrapped in one of her heavy comforters. Smiling to see him up and around, she mouthed a greeting. Cole smiled back and approached her, sitting next to her and lightly caressing her throat. That gentle attention was making it very hard to focus on what Jess was saying.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, could you repeat that?"

"I asked if either of you needed anything. You sure you okay, Mel?"

"I'm fine. Just... tired." Mel closed her eyes as Cole continued caressing her throat, smiling warmly at her.

"So, do you?"

"Do I..." Mel began, trying to divine what Jess meant. "Oh, uh... yeah, Jess, if you could pick up some Tylenol on your way to work, I'd be grateful."

"No problem, Mel. That it?"

"Yeah. I stocked up the other day, but I didn't know that Cole... can't take aspirin."

"He allergic?" Jess asked. "I read about that. It can be nasty."

"Very nasty," Mel agreed quietly.

"He running much of a temperature?"

"Low one," she answered honestly.

"Just so it's not too high. High fever can really mess with your brain."

"I know they can," Mel agreed. The low ones, too, apparently in the case of Cirronians.

"Just the Tylenol, then?" Jess asked.

"Yeah, Jess. Thanks." Mel hazarded a glance over at Cole who had managed to find a comfortable position and was now dozing lightly, his head nodding.

"Right. I'll pick up a bottle on the way in to work, then. Should I run it up?"

"Nah, Jess," Mel answered in what she hoped was a casual tone. "I'll run down and get it."

"You sure?" Jess asked.

"Yeah," she answered firmly. "I want to check on how things are going in the bar anyway."

"Right, then. If you're sure..."

"I am. Thanks, Jess. You're a life-saver."

"No problem. Jonas made me promise that I wouldn't let you overdo."

"Did he?" Mel asked with a wry smile.

"He did. Said Irene would come back and haunt him to his dying day if he let anything bad happen to her itty--"

"Don't finish that sentence, Jess," Mel advised warningly. "And when you haven't finished it, I want you to forget that you ever heard Jonas call me that, okay?"

Jess giggled. "Oh but, Mel, it's such a cute nickname!" she protested.

"Jess," Mel warned.

"Does Cole know it?"

"No, and he's not going to find out, either. You understand me, Jess?"

"If you say so, itty-bitty huggly-buggly," Jess giggled before hanging up.

Mel closed her eyes and took a deep breath, counting to ten. It did not work. "I'm going to kill Jonas," she whispered, shaking her head.

"Why, Mel?" a curious voice inquired next to her.

"Oh, no reason, Cole," Mel assured him with a smile.

The Cirronian frowned faintly. "Mel, Jonas is a good friend to us both. You should not kill him."

She grinned. "Okay, Cole. I promise not to kill Jonas."

"That's good, Mel."

But that doesn't mean that he's not going to hear about it... She smiled reassuringly at Cole. "Let's get you back to bed, okay?" she suggested.

"Mel, I don't wish to rest," he protested. "I must work."

"Cole, you have to rest. You want to go Tracking looking like this?" she asked, gesturing widely towards him.

He was just too conspicuous. Every visible inch of skin was glowing, and that was rather a lot of skin since all he was wearing were his briefs. Even in the well-lit living room and covered in calamine, he was throwing off a brilliant golden-brown glow. It was beautiful. Her eyes widened marginally at that awareness and she blinked to clear her head, wondering where the stray thought had come from. Rather than being denied, though, the thought continued to nag and, as it gained a foothold, to grow.

"Why are you staring at me, Mel?" Cole asked uncertainly.

Mel swallowed hard, reaching up and cupping his cheek in one hand. "Is this what you really look like, Cole?" she whispered, her voice wavering for no good reason she could guess. Or, at least, none she cared to admit to.

He frowned faintly at the question, but answered anyway, staring down at his bare chest as he spoke. "This is very close to the natural color of my skin, but my natural form is quite different."

"Oh." Mel nodded faintly, wondering why she was suddenly so interested.

Probably because, for the first time since meeting him, it was impossible to look at him and not notice that he was not human. She had, of course, been curious about what he really looked like since finding out that he was not human, but she had not wanted to pry, either, and she really had no idea how Cole might react to the question anyway.

"You are still curious?" Cole ventured quietly.

"Uh... just a little," Mel admitted, shrugging. "It's no big deal, though."

He frowned faintly. "Why does your curiosity embarrass you, Mel?"

Mel looked up at him with wide eyes, startled. He could be damned perceptive at times, sometimes too much so. "Just a... personal kind of thing to want to know..."

"Not really, Mel." Cole smiled faintly. "I know what you look like, after all."

"Uh, true..." Mel shrugged and nodded faintly.

"Cirronians are much smaller than humans," Cole told her. "I was very tall for a Cirronian, but Jonas' granddaughter is taller."

Mel blinked. "You're... shorter than a nine year old?"

"Yes, Mel." Cole smiled at her. "Why does that surprise you?"

"Uh... probably because I'm used to seeing you like this," Mel said, shrugging. "And you're just so strong..."

Cole chuckled faintly. "Most Cirronians are very strong, Mel. Our appearance is deceptive. We look very fragile."

Mel smiled wryly. "Yeah, well, there's nothing fragile about you."

His smile wavered. "I feel very fragile right now," he sighed.

Mel gave a sympathetic sigh of her own, nodding. "I know you do, Cole," she told him. "But you won't forever. In a few days, you'll be as good as new."

"I hope so, Mel," he sighed, shaking his head. "I need to work," he repeated distractedly, rising and walking towards the war-room.

Mel grabbed the blanket he had been wrapped in and followed. "No, Cole!" she said firmly, shaking her head and stepping around him, barring his progress. "You need to rest. I mean... look at you!"

Cole looked down at himself, sighing. He was utterly exhausted, but the drive to work, to not let the fugitives get even one step ahead, was great. He suddenly understood why, in the early days of her own recovery, Mel had been so eager to work.

"You're sick and it sucks," she told him, shaking her head. "But you aren't going to get any better by ignoring it. I want you to go back to bed, Cole," she said gently.

"I need to work," he protested, frustrated. "There are police reports to read and I have to check--"

"Hey, I'll print out some stuff for you to go over in bed, okay?" Mel offered gently. "That way you can rest and still keep an eye on things. How's that sound?"

He smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Mel."

She smiled gently back, pressing the comforter into his hands. "Okay, Cole. You go lie down and I'll get a few print-outs for you."

"Yes, Mel," he agreed, nodding.

She reached up and gently cupped his cheek in one hand. The flesh was still frighteningly cold, but he was definitely in better shape mentally than he had been the night before.

"Get some rest," she directed gently, waiting for him to walk back into her room before entering the war-room.

***

Mel sat down next to Cole as he leafed through the printouts she had provided, wanting to keep him company.

"Anything... unusual?" she asked quietly after a moment.

Cole shook his head faintly. "It doesn't look like it, Mel. Very few of these crimes look like they were likely to have been perpetrated by the fugitives."

"Well, that's good at least," Mel said, nodding.

"Yes, Mel."

"Cole, why'd you become a Tracker?" she asked abruptly. "I've always been curious about that. You don't seem the cop type to me."

He smiled faintly. "All a cop needs is to care about others, Mel. There is no other 'type'."

"Guess not," she agreed.

On further reflection, she realized that he really did have a lot of the characteristics you saw in human cops. He was compassionate towards victims, driven to find his suspects, almost obsessive about keeping civilians safe... Yeah, he was a cop through and through; his gentle nature did nothing to detract from that.

"Nallia and Ashi were very proud when I made the decision," he told her with a faintly reminiscent smile.

"Weren't they scared for you?"

He shook his head faintly. "Not really, Mel. I was always very big and strong for a Cirronian. They were sure I could take care of myself. They... they were sure that I could protect the whole Migar Federation, single-handed." His smile faded. "It's ironic. In the end, I couldn't even protect them..."

"Cole, that wasn't your fault," Mel protested. "Rhee did that. You couldn't have had any way of knowing..."

"I know. But it doesn't hurt less because of that."

"No, it never does. So you spend years second-guessing yourself..."

He nodded faintly. "They say time heals all wounds. Is that true?"

"I sure hope so," she whispered, leaning across the bed and pulling him into a tight hug.