Influenza

Chapter Six

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Oh, Ye of little faith! Of course, since Elliot is now sick Olivia will be taking care of him! Would I have it any other way? No, I most definitely would not!

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He looked up at her, his heavy eyelids closing involuntarily, and adamantly shook his head. There was no way he was sick. She was the sick one, he was taking care of her. He couldn't be sick, not while she still had the flu. "I'm fine," he croaked, suddenly aware of how dry his mouth was. "How do you feel?"

She sighed at his stubbornness, he was sick, she knew it, there was nothing that he could say to her to convince her otherwise. "Don't worry about me," she assured him. "I'm all better."

Elliot attempted to give her an incredulous look, but only ended up wincing in pain. Ok, so maybe he wasn't in the perfect health he thought he was. But, he did not have the flu. He had been smart, unlike Olivia, he had gotten his flu shot. "No temperature?"

With an slight smile she picked his hand up from the bed, then placed it over her forehead. "You tell me."

Elliot frowned, her forehead didn't feel warm at all to him. In fact, it was exactly the opposite, and he sighed as her cold flesh began to pull the heat out of his. His hand dropped back down to the bed and she, in turn, placed her palm against his forehead, gave him her own frown, then used the back of her hand to feel his cheeks. "El, I don't care what you say to convince me otherwise, you're sick."

Well... maybe. But he wasn't going to admit that to her. If he was sick, he could take care of it himself. No use in ruining her weekend. He pushed himself up from the bed, resting his back against the cushions of the couch, and let out a deep sigh, which then turned into a fit of coughs. Making a mental note to quit sighing for the time being he put his hand up to his own forehead. Of course, he trusted Olivia enough to believe her when she said that his forehead felt warm, but he wanted to see for himself.

Ok, so she was right, and he was really warm. But that didn't necessarily mean that he had the flu. He could just have caught a little cold, nothing big- just a bit of a fever and a cough... Yeah, that was it. A cold.

"I'll get you some Tylenol," she told him, getting up from her spot on the side of the bed. "And some water."

He gave her his best nod, which took quite a bit of effort on his part, and leaned heavily against the back of the couch. Damn, this was a hell of a cold. That was for sure. Just as soon as she had left she returned, holding the Tylenol PM bottle in one hand, and a bottle of water in the other, and wearing a frown.

"Here," she said gently, after twisting off the top of the Tylenol bottle and taking out two pills. He took them grudgingly and popped them into his mouth while she twisted off the cap of the water bottle, then handed that to him, as well. After taking a large drink from the water he gulped the pills down, the fact that it hurt like a mother, notwithstanding. Within minutes his eyes had closed tiredly and his breaths had become even, enough evidence for her to prove that he had fallen asleep.

She sighed to herself and placed her hand on his cheek tenderly, wondering how in the world she was going to take care of him. She wasn't a parent like he, sure when she was younger and her mother had a bit too much to drink and got 'sick' she had learned to take care of her. But, being drunk and having the flu were totally opposite things. She wasn't sure how good she would be at it.

After a few minutes of watching him sleeping she got up from his side again, to venture into the kitchen, where she grabbed a washcloth and wet it down. Then, she returned to the living room, and sat by his side again. She brushed the beads of perspiration off of his forehead tentatively, hoping the motion wouldn't wake him, then pressed the cold cloth against his forehead, in hopes to break his fever quicker. The motion caused him to shift slightly, but he didn't rouse, which she was thankful for.

What was she going to do? Could she really take care of him well enough to nurture him back to good health? No doubt she had caused him to get this way, since he had been in full contact with him while she was sick, so it had to be her who gave him the flu. In that case, she already knew what symptoms to expect, and how bad they would be, and that scared her. She had been so sick, no matter how much she had tried to hide it from him she knew that she had been bad off. What if he got just as bad, or worse?

Setting her musings aside for the time being, she turned her attention back to him, just in time to see him shiver. She drew the covers up closer towards his neck, then ran a hand through his short hair gently, knowing that when he had done the same to her while she was sick and restless it had helped in soothing her.

She glanced over at the clock on the cable box, then sighed heavily. It was already after three in the morning, and she was still feeling the effects of being sick. If she didn't get some sleep there was no way she was going to be able to help him through his own illness. But, there was no way she could leave him alone- if he woke up in the middle of the night he was going to need her help. Where was she going to sleep, though?

He had stayed in the same bed with her while she was sick, hadn't he? Of course, she was still aware of what had occurred while they had been sleeping, but nevertheless, it had been the only option. She sighed again, if she was going to get any sleep it would have to be in the couch bed, along with him.

In the end, her tiredness won out. She was physically and mentally exhausted, and no matter what she needed to sleep. Olivia got up from his side, allowing her hand to linger on his cheek for a second, then walked around the bed. There was a slight chance that she herself was still sick, so she couldn't forgo the covers and sleep on top of the bed, and had to crawl under the comforter, next to her partner.

He reacted to the motion like any man who had been married for years would, by shifting in his sleep and snaking his arm around her waist. Probably something he would have done when he and Kathy had been together, something that was imprinted in his mind. And, how could she blame him for doing it? In his unconscious state, he didn't know that it was her, all he knew was that there was a warm body next to him, and every other time before he was warranted in his actions. So, there was no getting mad at him for it. Not like she would have, anyway...

Which, just added on to the problem. Just as before, she was comfortable in her situation. She liked her situation. Of course, with him being the sick one, it changed things a bit, but it still came down to the fact that she was sharing a bed with him and her body was pressed up against his perfectly.

Elliot brought her out of her musings by shivering violently. T he tremor was so profound that it scared her, she hadn't done that while she had been sick, had she? Olivia turned around in his arms, so that she was now facing him, and studied his features carefully. His brow was furrowed in a painful matter and his lips were pursed together tightly, not to mention the fact that he was still sweating from the fever.

"God, Elliot," she whispered, pressing her hand against his cheek gently. "What's wrong with you?"

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He woke up in the middle of the night coughing fiercely, the noise roused Olivia as well and she jolted forward, her gaze instantly turning to him. "Are you alright?" she questioned eagerly.

Elliot took in his surroundings instantly, while she was practically sitting on the bed, she was still held firmly in his arms, as well as under all the blankets. Oh yeah, he was good. Well, as long as he ignored the splitting headache, burning throat, and sore muscles, that was.

All he had the strength to do was shake his head, he wouldn't have been able to answer her, anyway. He was still coughing up a storm. Olivia frowned, not at all embarrassed by their sleeping situations, and pressed her palm against his forehead. Which, was nice for him, since he was burning up and her skin was soft and cool against his. He shivered despite himself, causing her frown to further, and though he couldn't see much in the darkness, he could plainly see the worry in her eyes.

"What time...?" he adverted his eyes to the clock on the cable box and he, himself frowned. It was just after five in the morning, it hadn't been long since he had first woken, even though he had taken medication that was supposed to allow him at least eight full hours of sleep. Olivia glanced over her shoulder to check the clock as well, and sighed because of it. No doubt she was exhausted from being sick herself.

"You should go back to sleep," she told him softly, touching his cheek with the back of her hand soothingly. The caress worked and he found himself leaning into it sleepily, his eyelids slowly closing. She saw this and smiled lightly, stroking the same cheek gently. "The more rest you get, the quicker you get better."

He wasn't going to argue with that statement, he had used it against her only a day prior, so he nodded and laid back down. Had he not been so sick it might have registered in his mind how caring she was being and he might have acted accordingly, but he wasn't so he didn't. She, herself, didn't even seem to pick up on all the gentle touches or careful caresses she was giving him. Which, probably had something to do with her extreme exhaustion.

The last thing he remembered before drifting back into a restless sleep was her body making contact with the bed once more, and then his arm finding it's way around her waist, slowly pulling her closer to him. What he missed, however, was her burrowing her face into his chest, and wrapping her own arm around his waist before she, too, fell asleep.

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This wasn't right. The more logical side of her brain was screaming as much at her as she cuddled up close to him, but she did good to even acknowledge that argument. Maybe it wasn't right, but God did it feel right. Even if he was sick, and she was too tired to know what she was doing, her body still understood such. She was practically melting into his arms and at the moment she wouldn't have had it any other way.

But, she certainly didn't feel the same way when she woke up the next morning. Her body had the chance to regain it's much needed energy to function, and her brain was finally starting to make sense out of the situation she was in.

Thankfully, he was still asleep when she woke, so it wasn't very hard for her to pull out of his grasp. Of course, in his sleeping state he had tried to hold her there, but being sick he was far weaker than she, so it didn't cause her much of an inconvenience. When she glanced at the clock she found that it was almost nine, so she quickly showered and changed before he woke.

Which happened at eight minutes after ten. What tipped her off to the fact that he was awake was a low, painful groan from the couch bed. At the time she had been in the recliner, watching the morning news, so it didn't take her long to be by his side.

"Elliot?" she questioned, reaching out to touch his forehead. Not as bad as the morning before, but still extremely warm. "Open your eyes..."

He did as told, albeit very slowly, and smiled slightly. "Morning..." he said, his voice sounding thick and forced.

"Good morning," she greeted. "How do you feel?"

"Horrible," he told her, blinking sleepily. "You?"

"Good... I'm all better, thanks to you."

At that he grinned a bit.

"You hungry?"

He shook his head, "Thirsty."

"I'll get you something to drink..." she began to stand up from the bed, but he reached out and grabbed her arm, keeping her from doing so.

"Don't," he asked, his voice breaking a bit. "We need to talk."

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A/N: I think that I jinxed myself or something, because now I have a cold (not the flu, mind you... bit, it still bites). Nothing too terrible, I can still write until 1 in the morning! Anyway... I thought I'd put a bit of a cliffhanger in there. Just because I can :)

Let me know what'cha think about it.