A/N: For everybody familiar with the Norovirus- for dramatic reasons I have shortened the incubation period of the virus. After all, there is a crime to be solved, too!
December 1971, Wednesday 22nd: The Puke Has Hit the Fan
After a hearty breakfast with an equally well and rosy looking daughter, Mike arrived at work feeling perfectly fine.
As promised he had stopped at his partner's house and found him as unwell as the night before, but a phone call to Steve's doctor didn't prove to be beneficial at all. "Norovirus? Stay away from my surgery! Get him to drink plenty of fluids and keep him warm. He'll be fine in a few days and when you catch it, just do the same!"
"Thanks for nothing" Mike muttered and urged Steve to drink some more water, but all that was achieved was another bout of nausea and yet another trip to the bathroom.
"I'll check on you later on and maybe we can get you to eat something…" Wrong suggestion, Mike he said to himself, when he saw his friend grasping the bowl he had strategically placed near the patient's bed. He patted Steve's shoulder as he left the room. "Okay, let's try a cup of tea instead when I come back. See you!"
Everyone in Robbery, including Irene, seemed to be present and accounted for. Mike sighed with relief and exchanged a few pleasantries with Irene, telling her how much Jeannie had enjoyed their shopping spree and how much they all looked forward to their dinner date.
Maybe only Steve will get it. After all his immune system is still weakened from the flu… Mike was hopeful again.
But things looked differently when he walked through Homicide…
Haseejian was absent and Tanner looked decidedly peaky. "Bill, don't wait until it gets worse. Go home immediately and make sure your kid won't come near you!"
A phone call to Haseejian confirmed Mike's worst fears. Norm had felt absolutely fine until he got up in the morning, but then… The narrative ended as the victim of the vomiting bug ran for the bathroom.
In the course of the day, four more detectives from Homicide had to go home with the same symptoms. Roy Devitt, in charge of Homicide and Robbery, and deprived of his right hand man Tanner, was reluctant to send any relief staff over to Homicide, in case they came down with the same virus.
Mike was mighty glad to leave the Hall of Justice for home, sweet home, made even sweeter by the prospect of finding not only Jeannie and Irene there, but a gourmet meal, too.
His only worry was Steve, who was still as sick as he was in the morning, though to Mike's satisfaction he kept half a cup of weak tea down. Then he gave in to Steve's pleas to leave him alone so he could feel miserable in peace.
After all, he had promised to be home on time, and no matter how badly he felt about leaving Steve the way he was, it was impossible to bring him home and risk infecting Jeannie, too.
Mike ran up the stairs to his house with a spring in his step. Yep, he could definitely get a whiff of some very pleasant cooking smells, but when he opened the door he could get a whiff of something else, too…
Jeannie was waiting for him at the door, wide-eyed and visibly upset. "Mike, it's Irene… We were having such a great time fixing dinner together and all of a sudden she started getting sick!"
Mike heaved a heartfelt sigh. "Where is she now, sweetheart?"
"In the bathroom. She said she wanted to go home, but there is no way we can let her go home like this!" Jeannie was adamant.
"No, darling, of course not. Will you organize some pajamas for her, while I get the spare room ready?" Mike resigned himself to the fact that nothing at all was going to plan.
