Okay, it's pretty obvious Robbie has the flu, but I do not want to litter the story with constant references of him coughing and blowing his nose. So if you will, just picture the image for me as you read.

THE AMERICAN PATIENT

Chapter Three –The Lady With The Lamp

Robert heard the words but did not quite believe them. He just stared at Elizabeth, for once at a loss for a witty comeback. He did feel pretty dreadful. "Are you sure, I mean I don't wanna be a pain?"

"Robert you're always a pain, so I wont notice any difference now will I?" she chortled, and pointed at the hot chocolate. "Get that down your neck, and I'll go make up the spare room for you."

He reached forward for it and gripped the cup in both of his hands. Lifting it to his mouth, he blew on the hot liquid before taking a tentative sip, appreciating the sweet flavour as it warmed and soothed his throat. He sighed contentedly as it evoked memories of long ago, of him as a boy. His mother would always make him a hot chocolate whenever he was unwell, or simply down in the dumps. It was probably the reason he had such a sweet tooth these days, he thought to himself; a comfort eating of a sort.

He startled slightly when Elizabeth reappeared and brought him out of his nostalgia. She was holding a blanket and motioned for him to lean forward. Robert pulled himself up slightly, surprised at how much his body protested even that small evolution. She placed it around his shoulders and he fell back down heavily with a grunt.

Elizabeth continued to look at him causing him to glance up at her.

"How long have you been feeling like this?" she asked.

"Err, not sure. I've been feeling pretty crappy for a few days, but not as bad as I do right now."

"Well that's your own fault. Any sane person would have simply gone to bed days ago, but oh, not you, cause you don't get ill." Elizabeth said in a whiney, childish voice.

"Loving your bedside manner there Lizzie," Robert moaned, raising a hand to his face and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Oh shut up. Do you feel up to eating some soup?" she asked.

Robert thought about it and shook his head. "No I feel a bit nauseous actually, but thanks."

"Okay, well I'm starving so you won't mind if I do?"

"Knock yourself out," he said a little grouchily.

She looked at him again.

'Men are pathetic when they get ill,' she thought to herself, before walking over to the television and turning it on. She then picked up the remote and threw it next to him.

"Make yourself at home," she said as graciously as she could. Even to her own ears she didn't sound too convincing.

This is NOT how I envisaged the start to my week off!

She walked off to the kitchen and set about making herself something to eat. Opening a can of soup into a bowl she wrapped some clingfilm over it and wandered over to the microwave. 21:36 the display said. She heated up her soup and ate it at the island in the kitchen, treasuring the first quiet moment to herself all day. After she'd finished she placed the bowl in the sink and went back to the lounge.

Robert was dozing. She felt his head and reached for the thermometer again. He didn't stir this time as she took a reading.

"Well you're not getting any better are you?" she said rhetorically, before shaking his shoulder.

"Robert. Robert, come on if you're going to fall asleep you can do it in bed." She shook him harder.

He opened his eyes and peered at her. "Okay, okay!"

He tried to stand, but ended up wincing instead. Elizabeth rolled her eyes before placing an arm around him and hoisting him up.

"Come on sleepy head, let's get you to bed." She glanced down at him.

Now upright and leaning heavily on her she saw him grin.

"What?"

"You're holding me hostage in your house. You forced me to strip naked and take a bath, fed me drugs and now you're dragging me to bed – honestly Lizzie, all you had to do was ask!"

She let go of him suddenly and he fell to the floor in a heap of arms and legs before rolling over and staring up at her with a shocked expression.

"What'd you do that for?!"

"Listen Robert, let's get one thing straight – you're here because you're actually quite ill. That being said, however, do not think for one minute that I won't hesitate to throw you out into the rain if you piss me off. Are we clear?"

He flashed her his best 'naughty boy caught in the act' smile.

"You know you're very sexy when you're angry."

Elizabeth shook her head and laughed at him. "And you're bloody impossible, Robert!" She bent down and helped him back up and they headed off slowly up the stairs.

After getting him into bed and filling a glass of water for him, Elizabeth went to bed herself. She reached over to the clock and set it for 2am as he'd be due more ibuprofen around then. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

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The alarm brought her out of a deep sleep and she slammed the button down, silencing the offensive noise.

Waking Robert up was not so easy. Elizabeth was forced to turn the lamp on and when that didn't work she held his nose, then laughed as his arms began to flail about.

"What the? Oh, it's you, what time is it? You're really quite evil did you know that," he winged.

"Stop your whining. I need to take your temperature and you need to swallow these." She held out two pills and passed him the glass of water. Robert swallowed them, but as he took the glass away from his mouth Elizabeth ordered him to drink it all. He stared at her, took stock of her wild hair and stern expression, and then drank the rest of the water down.

"Good boy," Elizabeth said patronisingly, before taking his temperature. He looked at her questioningly. "101.9" she said to his unasked question.

"Going down," they both said together.

"Yeah, but you're still high." She looked him over. His t-shirt was drenched as were the bed sheets. His eyes followed her gaze.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"I'll get you something dry," she said and vanished out of the room.

Robert dragged himself out off bed and wandered out to the bathroom. When he returned Elizabeth had finished changing the bed sheets and looked up as he entered. He was shaking and looked like he might faint. She rushed over and slipped an arm around him, and stumbling together, they made their way back to the bed. Robert's legs gave out just as they got there and they both fell on it awkwardly, Elizabeth landing on top of him.

"Christ Robert!"

"Sorry," he muttered weakly, his eyes closed in a grimace.

Elizabeth sat up and looked down at him. He looked utterly exhausted and helpless. She tugged the wet shirt off him and patted him down with it, before pulling up the dry sheets around him and replacing the blanket back over him. She refilled the glass of water, and sat down beside him watching him until he fell asleep. Watching his face she was surprised at just how peaceful he looked as he slept. She'd never realised how babyish his face was before, and thought he must have been a sweet looking boy. Then she remembered his singing in the car and a vision of him as a little choirboy leapt into her head making her chortle quietly. Robert was an original all right; they certainly broke the mould when they made him!

She reached over and switched off the bedside lamp but did not leave. She realised she had known him for a little over six years now, yet she was embarrassed to admit she knew almost nothing off him. He put so much effort into yelling at people and generally ruffling peoples feathers, that the idea of getting to know him better had never once crossed her mind. They had had their own fair share of up's and downs over the years, but she realised at that moment just how much Robert had done for her. If it were not for him she would never have come to America, met Mark or had Ella. He'd promoted her, supported her when things had gone wrong. Pushed her to her limits only to push her more, thus building her confidence as a surgeon and as a person. She was a stronger woman because of this man. He had bought her pizza when she was pregnant, comforted and guided her back to Mark when she was lost in a wilderness of pain and uncertainty. Accepted her back at County no questions asked, when she had all but abandoned them after Marks death. When she had lost her wedding ring he had gone to great lengths to retrieve it for her. And what had he ever asked for in return? Nothing. She realised then, that he was her rock, the one constant in the world that she could always depend on. He was in fact her best friend, if the truth be known, always there sitting on the periphery, looking out for her. This realisation surprised her and she bent down and not sure why or what made her do it, but she kissed him tenderly on the lips. Robert did not wake up, but he smiled contentedly as if he was dreaming of something similar. She lay down next to him and closed her eyes.

TBC