In the early hours of the morning Carter awoke to check on Sara. He walked in to her bedroom careful not to wake her and gently placed his hand on her cheek. She'd cooled down thank god. But Sara stirred and looked at Carter.

Carter: Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you

Sara: It's all right. What time is it?

Carter: It's about 3.30 in the morning. You feeling any better?

Sara: Yeah loads better thank you.

Carter: I know it's early but you feeling up to some chicken soup? I'm cooking

Sara: I think I can manage that. You want a hand?

Carter: No, just relax. How's your stomach? It's stopped hurting?

Sara: Yeah (she lied). It's better now.

Carter: Ok, then just give me a minute.

Carter began making his famous soup. Actually it was what he survived off in his med. school years when he was too shattered to cook anything that took longer than 10 minutes to make. He got 2 trays, one for Sara, and one for himself, some water, the soup and 2 slices of bread and headed towards Sara's bedroom.

Sara: Smells nice

Carter: Yeah, it's the only decent thing I know how to make, except pasta and ready made stuff. I burn everything else. 

Sara:  I'm going to have to teach you how to cook

Carter handed Sara the tray and a tissue while he sat down on the other side of the double bed.

Carter: Good luck with that. I'm as rubbish a student as you are a patient

Carter began eating before Sara hit him with a pillow.

Sara: Oi.

Carter: Watch it

Sara: Actually, you're right.  I'm sorry about before, I just hate being ill and I often take it out on other people. J used to say, I was worse as a kid, but I can't see how. Anyway this is good.

Carter: Thank you.

Sara: I'm going to have to taste the pasta you make now

Carter: It's an ancient recipe, handed down from generation to generation.

Sara: Really?

Carter: No, I copied it off the back of the pasta packet.

Sara: You're hopeless.

Carter: No I'm not. See I promised you; you wouldn't feel Shiite or be bored.

Sara: Thanks Carter, for everything

Carter: All part of the job description

Sara: I don't see how witnessing the remains of eaten food being hurled into a toilet is part of the job description of a friend

Carter: You love mentioning that don't you, especially while I'm eating.

Sara: Yeah, it gives me some sick pleasure.

Carter: I bet it does. You finished?

Sara: Yeah

Sara handed Carter the tray. Carter started to laugh.

Sara: What?

Carter: You've got a bit of soup on your nose

Sara: Where?

With the aid of a tissue, Carter wiped away the remains of the soup. As he did so Sara and Carter's eyes met. It was a timeless moment, one of acknowledgement, where both of them realised how the other felt, by the way they stared at each other. There was connection between them, a realisation or a passing of information. It was almost as if everything was falling in to place. Like a domino effect, a starting point for an embrace to progress from. But before anything could happen Sara's thoughts over ruled what she was feeling in her heart and she coughed and pulled away.

Sara: Um, thanks Carter. I think I'd better get some sleep. Thanks again, night.

Carter: Ok then, um, I'll see you in the morning.

Sara rested her head against the pillow but found it much more difficult to go to sleep this time. A battle was raging inside of her, not only of her immune system beating the flu virus but between her heart and her thoughts.

Carter left the room feeling confused. He felt sure that he'd felt something between them in her room. He thought that she felt the same way about her as she did him. But she pulled away. Carter thought of an explanation for it. Maybe he was just imagining a "moment" back there, maybe she genuinely felt tired. He didn't know what to think. All he knew is that he had a shift tomorrow and he was tired. He put the dishes in the sink, thinking that he'd wash them the next morning and headed towards the spare room to go to sleep.