"Please Doc, tell me you are joking?" Bill begged as his eyes travelled over to his young daughter who was lying on the sofa, cuddled up with her teddy, under a blanket, watching her favorite cartoons, "She can't have…"

The pediatrician grinned as he slowly repacked his black medical bag before he looked up at the terrified father, "I'm afraid so, Bill, I have never misdiagnosed a case of chickenpox before."

"But Doc, what am I going to do?" Bill implored, "Please… It can't be chickenpox … Not now! Sarah's gone to help her mother in Indiana while her dad's in the hospital."

"You'll be fine, Bill." The doctor patted the upset man reassuringly on the shoulder, as he tried hard to hide his amusement at the panic shown by the normally calm Homicide inspector, "She might be a little irritable because of a slight fever but some tepid baths and child strength Tylenol should help. Oh, and remember to use plenty of Calamine lotion and make sure that she doesn't scratch." Picking up his bag he turned and headed towards the door before he turned back and grinned at the nervous man, "I promise that you will be fine, Bill, after all, you arrest the worse type of criminals, so a sick little girl should be a breeze- just don't forget the Calamine and socks on the hands helps as well!" He chuckled softly as he turned and walked out of the door, the look of fear on the terrified inspector's face was something he never wanted to forget.

Bill stared at the door as it snickered closed. Extraordinarily little had the ability to render him speechless, incapable of even simple thought. His heritage, his family, his job – each facet of his life, past and present, ensured he'd developed a finely-honed sense of self and ability to maintain a cool composure and deal with everything that came his way. Well almost everything … but this! … Nothing had prepared him for this!... This was… this was just way out of his territory of expertise … His specialty was chasing and catching murderers, as well as chasing away the occasional monster who sometimes liked to hide in his little girl's closet … But Sarah…Sarah was the one who always knows precisely what to do whenever Jenny's sick. Maybe, after he called Mike and told him that he would not be able to come to work for the next couple of days, he would call Steve and Lee and beg them both to help when they were off duty.

Reaching for his phone, he dialed a familiar number, knowing the call was one thing he couldn't put off, even if it was Mike's only day off.

His eyes wandered over the itchy, irritable little girl who was still watching cartoons as he listened to the phone ringing on the other end. His attention was momentarily drawn away from Jenny as he heard Mike's amused voice answer the phone.

He closed his eyes and sighed as he turned his back to his ill little girl and spoke softly, "Ah Mike, it's Bill. Umm, remember the other night when I invited you and Steve around for pizza and to watch the fight on TV after I put Jenny to bed? I'm sorry that I have to ask ... but have you and Steve ever had chickenpox?"

Mike's eyes drifted across to his miserable, irritable, and extremely itchy partner and best friend who was trying hard not to scratch the spreading rash that now covered his chest, face and back, "I have Bill, but I am certain that Steve never did." He replied, trying hard not to laugh as he reached across and handed Steve the bottle of pink calamine lotion and the packet of fluffy white cotton balls that he had just gotten out of his medicine cabinet before the phone had rung.