Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.

Hi everyone! Thanks are due, as always, to you for your support and encouragement. I'm glad you're all enjoying the story and I hope to have more up soon! But for now, enjoy =)

John squinted when he woke up, noting immediately that something was wrong. Something deep inside of him and after a moment, he gave a violent cough and then groaned. Jenn glanced over, bleary eyed.

"What's wrong?" she mumbled, still half asleep.

"Nothing," John said roughly. "Sorry I woke you, go back to sleep."

Jenn sat up a bit.

"You're voice is hoarse," she said. "Coming down with a cold?"

John swallowed, his throat protesting the action.

"Don't know," he muttered, trying vainly to clear his throat of the awful tickle. He was unsuccessful and coughed again, prompting Jenn to sit up fully.

"Are you okay?" she asked, looking much more awake, although she was frowning. John closed his eyes, feeling the headache start to build.

"John?"

John opened his eyes again, squinting at her in the bright light that was streaming through the curtains.

"I'm not sure," he said and Jenn frowned, laying a hand on his forehead.

"You're not warm," she said, removing her hand. "Do you maybe want some paracetamol?"

John nodded and watched gratefully as Jenn slid out of bed and returned with the medication and a glass of water. He pushed himself up, feeling achy as he did so, and accepted the cup with shaking hands.

"Thanks," he said, leaning back as soon as she had the glass again. Jenn was still watching him closely; John could feel her glance even with his eyes closed.

"Are you hungry?" she asked but John shook his head – his stomach was far too unsettled for any food.

"What about some tea? You need to get something into your stomach."

John sighed, knowing she was right.

"Tea would be great, thanks," he said. Jenn nodded and returned a few moments later with a steaming cup of tea and a plate of dry toast.

"At least try to eat," she said, handing John the mug. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"I don't want to think about it," John answered with a tired sigh. Still, he took the plate and gingerly bit into the toast. Under Jenn's watchful eye, he ate about half of it and managed the mug of tea.

"That wasn't so bad," she said cheerfully. "Can I get you anything else?"

"No," John said, wishing he hadn't eaten the toast. "I think I'm just going to head home."

"No."

John was surprised by Jenn's adamant response.

"I mean," she said quickly and in a much gentler tone. "No, please, stay. No one wants to take the tube when they're sick, or even a cab. It's no trouble, I promise you."

"But don't you have to work?" John asked but quickly added, "Not that I expect you to take care of me or anything but I'd feel weird being in your flat without you."

"No, no," Jenn said. "It's fine. Close your eyes, go back to sleep. I'm going to take a shower."

John, while still not sure if this was the right decision, closed his eyes and fell asleep.

When John woke again, his head felt like it was about to explode.

"Jenn?" he called weakly, shielding his eyes, and Jenn hurried in not twenty seconds later. She saw his brow wrinkled in pain.

"Headache?" she asked, going to the curtains and closing them. John removed the hand from his eyes.

"Yes," he whispered, his throat too sore to talk at normal volume. Jenn again frowned and sat on the edge of the bed, feeling John's forehead again.

"You've got a fever now," she said softly and John nodded miserably. Jenn reached over to the bedside table and pulled a thermometer from the drawer.

"Why is that in there?" John mumbled as she shook it and checked to make sure the mercury was accurate – it was an old glass thermometer rather than a new digital one.

"What?" she asked, glancing at him. "Oh, that's where it ended up when I moved in and I never bothered putting it in the bathroom. I haven't had to use it."

She didn't give John the chance to respond, sliding the thermometer in his mouth. Jenn left him there as she poured a cup of orange juice for him. She set the tumbler on the bedside table before taking the thermometer out of his mouth.

"What's it say?"

"Nothing good," she said with a sigh. "Thirty-eight point seven. Here," she said, handing John the glass after putting the thermometer down. "You need to stay hydrated."

John pushed himself up slightly and took the cup, sipping at it. The acidity in the orange juice stung but at the same time, it felt wonderful as the cold liquid slid down his parched throat.

"Thanks," John said as Jenn took the glass back, coughing slightly. "I don't know where this came from," he continued. "I felt fine yesterday. Maybe it was something in the food last night … do you feel alright?"

"Yes," Jenn answered quickly. "I feel fine; there was nothing wrong with the food."

She smiled at John.

"You're a doctor," she added. "You know better than anyone that these things can come with no warning."

John sighed.

"I know," he conceded. "But this really came out of nowhere. Normally I can feel when I'm coming down with something."

"I'm sorry you feel so ill," Jenn said. "But there's nothing you can do but wait it out, I'm afraid. Can I get you anything else?"

John shook his head. The prospect of food was nauseating and anything else required getting up and he didn't feel the need was urgent enough yet.

"Okay," Jenn said sympathetically. "Call if you need anything."

John nodded, sliding down in the bed again and closing his eyes. It was rather nice, he decided, being looked after by someone other than Sherlock. He wasn't sure about it but maybe it was a woman's touch … which, normally, drove him crazy because he was proof that women weren't the only ones who could be good at taking care of other people. Still, he had to admit, it felt nice to have Jenn watching over him.

"Your fever is still in the thirty-eight range," Jenn said, putting the thermometer down later that afternoon.

"I can tell," John responded miserably. "I ache and my skin hurts."

Jenn frowned slightly.

"It's too soon for another dose of paracetamol," she said. "What about a compress? Would that help?"

John mumbled something along the lines of 'yes' and Jenn went to her bathroom and returned with the folded facecloth. She gently pressed it to John's forehead and neck before draping it on his forehead and leaving it there.

"Better?" she asked and John nodded.

"Go back to sleep," she said softly, kissing his cheek. "And call if you need anything."

John nodded again, already half asleep.

John jolted awake when his mobile vibrated. His mobile … where was his mobile? John pushed himself up a bit farther and saw that Jenn had neatly folded his clothes and placed them on a chair in the room. His mobile and wallet were sitting nicely on the dresser next to it. The mobile vibrated again and John knew it had to be Sherlock. He forced himself up – light-headed, yes, but also not an option – and retrieved it before collapsing back in bed.

[received 15:03] Were you planning on coming home or are you already married to her? SH.

[received 15:04] I need your help, John. Now is not the time for your emotions to get in the way. SH.

[received 15:05] John! SH.

[sent 15:06] Don't yell at me. Yes, I'm still at Jenn's flat.

[received 15:06] Successful night? SH.

[sent 15:07] If you count getting the worst case of flu possible success, then yes. Success.

[received 15:08] You're ill? SH.

[sent 15:09] Yes. It's awful. I feel like I should be dead.

[received 15:10] I'm sure it's not that bad. You're being dramatic. SH.

[sent 15:11] I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. I feel ghastly.

[received 15:12] Please tell me you're staying there. SH.

[sent 15:13] What's that supposed to mean?

[received 15:14] It means I have a case and I don't have time to baby you until you feel better. SH.

[sent 15:15] I believe the term is 'look after' or maybe 'help' … but yes, I'm staying here.

[received 15:15] It's babying. Mollycoddling, if you will. SH.

[sent 15:17] No, it's one friend helping out another friend. I don't mollycoddle you when you're ill.

[received 15:19] Yes, you do and I don't like it. I've told you that. SH.

John sighed, rubbing his eyes. The small text size was giving him a headache.

[sent 15:21] I'll talk to you later. I'm going back to sleep.

[received 15:21] Alone, right? SH.

[sent 15:23] Good-bye, Sherlock.

[received 15:24] Should I be worried? You didn't even have a comeback for me. SH.

[sent 15:25] Good night, Sherlock.

John was already asleep by the time the last message came through.

[received 15:27] Feel better, John. Text if you need anything. SH.

A nice, fluffy chapter =) Reviews are always appreciated!