Fuller took one look at Hanson. "Get out of here."
"Wh-" His voice caught and a cough momentarily overtook him. He tried again. "W-what?"
Fuller's thick brow dipped into a frown. "I said get out of here. You sound like you're one step from death. I'm not going to have you spreading whatever you've got around this office. Go home. Get some rest. Come back when you feel better."
"But coach, I'm fine-" Hanson tried to reassure the stubborn man, but another coughing fit interrupted him.
Fuller folded his arms. Unconvinced. "No you're not. Go home."
Annoyed and too tired to argue, Hanson turned on his heel, stomping out. Disgruntled, he ignored the prying eyes that followed him across the room and to the door.
…
Maybe Fuller called it right in sending him home, Hanson thought. He'd had a change of heart once he felt the comfort of his bed and softness of his pillow. He wrapped his blanket more securely around his body and sighed deeply.
Knock, knock knock.
He groaned. There was a brief pause, then the knocks started again and didn't stop.
"Coming!" He coughed. "I'm coming!" Tom snapped, annoyed that whoever was on the other side hadn't stopped knocking.
"Doug?" He croaked, once he'd pulled the door open.
"Hey Tommy!" Doug greeted-too loudly for Tom's liking. "Came to check on you. See if you need anything."
Tom-already unsteady-nearly found himself on the floor, as Penhall pushed his way into the apartment. If not for his firm grip on the doorknob, Hanson wouldn't have remained upright. Fighting a new wave of nausea caused by the sudden movements, he pushed the door shut and painfully stumbled to the couch. Only to find Doug now occupied one end.
"You need anything?"
Tom shook his head, before he released a round of sneezes. "Just sleep." Tom's face dropped onto the armrest. Ugh, if only his head would stop spinning.
"Have you eaten?" Doug tried again. "You gotta eat something when you're sick."
You also need quiet. Tom avoided saying the words. "I don't feel like cooking. And-" a cough"-I'm not really hungry right now Doug."
"You gotta eat. Gotta keep up your strength, give your body some energy to fight this off. Right? That's what they're always saying in the health classes." He emphasized his words by slapping Hanson hard on the back. "How 'bout you get some rest and I'll get you something to eat?"
That didn't sound too bad. Although Tom had a feeling Doug was the one who really wanted something to eat. But at least it would keep Doug occupied and make him shut up so he could get some shut eye. "Wait." He slowly turned his head and pried one eye open. The other eye was held captive by the armrest. "Can you cook Doug?"
Doug glanced off to the side, thinking. "I can throw something together. Get some sleep." He stood and went to the kitchen. Tom held onto his blanket, stretching his legs onto the couch.
Finally peace.
CLANK!
The sound had him snapping to attention and jumping from the couch. "Doug! What happened?"
Doug appeared with a sheepish look. "Sorry Tommy." He held up a silver bowl. "I dropped this on the floor. Go back to sleep. I'll be quiet."
Tom blinked. He had a sinking feeling that sleep was the last thing he would get.
…
Tom blinked. Fuller had been wrong. He should have stayed at work. Anything would be better than this. Since Doug's arrival there'd been nothing but noise. If Doug wasn't dropping things, he had the TV blaring. If the TV wasn't blaring then Doug was talking. Loudly. On and on.
Not only was he sleep deprived, but his weak stomach was still empty. His friend's idea of getting him some food, was giving him leftover frozen pizza. That he failed to reheat. Tom couldn't even stomach one bite before nausea overtook him. But that didn't seem to bother Doug. He consumed it all on Hanson's behalf.
Penhall meant well, but Tom really needed him to leave. He glanced wearily toward the kitchen, hearing Doug rummage through his cabinets while giving another monologue.
Knock, knock, knock!
Tom ran his hands over his face. What now?
He stumbled to the door when it became obvious Doug hadn't heard the arrival of a third party.
"Jude?" He said in surprise, seeing her on the other side of the door.
Judy peered at him hesitatingly. "Hey Hanson. Hope I'm not waking you. I just came to check on you."
"Oh. Come-" The words summoned a coughing attack. He opened the door wider and waved her in.
"Harry told me he called you earlier. Said you sounded worse than you did this morning at the chapel. I was wor-" Judy paused suddenly hearing all the noise and the one-sided conversation coming from the kitchen. "What is that? Is Penhall here?"
Tom managed a nod. "He's been here all day. Helping."
There was no way for Judy to miss the sarcasm in his voice. She grimaced. "Hanson I'm sorry. Come here. Let's you get you settled. You want to go to your room or the couch."
"Couch's fine."
Holding his arm, she led him to the piece of furniture requested. "Now you just lay down. I'm going to take these to the kitchen. Can I get you anything?"
It was then Hanson realized she carried two plastic sacks in her hand. His brow lifted in curiosity. What had she brought?
"So anyway, the girl was hot and I was thinking…oh hey Judy. When did you get here?" Doug asked, finally joining them.
With a hand on her hip Judy sent Doug a glare.
"What?" He asked innocently. Eyes bouncing from her to Hanson.
Judy's glare, slipped into a patient smile. Her slender legs carried her to Penhall's side. "Thanks Doug for swinging by. I know Hanson appreciates it. But he needs to get some rest. I don't think that is going to happen while you are here." As she spoke, she slipped one arm around Doug and walked him step by step to the door.
"Oh! You mean I'm bothering him. Buddy, why didn't you say something?"
Judy didn't let Tom answer. "Penhall, call and check on him a later. I'll stay for a while ok."
He stepped out of the apartment, running a hand through his hair. "Uh thanks Jude." He peered around Judy. "Sorry Tom. Uh," he scratched his head. "Get some rest."
"Bye Doug." Hanson said with a wave.
Judy secured the door and joined Hanson once more. "You just relax. I'll get you something to drink. Have you eaten?"
His stomach rumbled in answer.
"That would be a no. Ok, I'm going to whip you up something to eat. In the meant time."
Achoo, achoo, achoo!
Before he could move, the tissue box was shoved into his face. "Thanks," he said grabbing several. Man Judy moved fast.
"In the mean time you take it easy."
Tom snuggled into the couch, while Judy padded lightly into the kitchen. He tensed expecting to hear more noise once she got in there and began looking around the cabinets. But to his relief he heard very little. For the first time in hours, his apartment was quiet.
This wasn't so bad.
Sometime later, Judy sat before him holding a steaming bowl of soup. Hanson, sat up eager to eat.
He scooped up a spoonful and sighed. The rich flavors that covered his tongue were amazing. He took another bite. It was better than the first and had him wanting to drop to his knee and make a marriage proposal.
"Jude, mmm this is so good."
She smiled.
"How are you feeling?"
"Still got a killer headache."
"I have ibuprofen. You can take some when you're ready."
…
Judy ran her hand through his tousled hair. The action drew a sigh from him as he relaxed deeper into the cushions.
"Hanson," she whispered.
"Hmm?" He asked, not bothering to open his eyes. "What time is it?"
"Nine."
Nine? He'd finally been able to get some sleep. Her tender care, mouthwatering soup, and medicine had put him out. And he was already feeling better.
"Hey, listen." Her soft voice and her fingers-still running feather light through his hair-filled him with ecstasy. He wasn't sure if it was the sickness, but something about her today, made his body hum. More than usual anyway. "Sorry to wake you. I wanted to tell you I'm going to go."
That broke the spell. His eyes popped open. It took a moment to focus. "You're leaving?" Duh that's what she'd just said.
She smiled softly. "Yeah. It's getting late. I don't want to disturb you."
"Oh." That sounded like a disappointed 'oh'. "Ok."
"You take it easy. I bought you some eggs, juice, and bread. So you have something here to make a light breakfast tomorrow. If you need anything, call me. I don't care what it is. Ok?"
"Kay."
Leaning forward, she kissed his forehead. The sweet smell of vanilla reached his nostrils. It surrounded him and made him want to hold her when she pulled away.
She rose, unbothered by the way he watched her every move. She sure was easy to look at. He preferred looking at her than Doug.
Her jacket was on. She was slipping her purse over her slender shoulder. In a few seconds, she would be gone.
"You don't have to leave."
She paused. "What?"
He cleared his throat. "You don't have to leave. You're not bothering me. Since you've been here, I've felt the best I have all day. Stay. If you want."
He saw the indecision on her face.
How bad did he want her to stay?
Maybe she needed a little more convincing. Covering his mouth, he coughed hard. Harder than necessary and added a pathetic painful moan. One that had her eyes softening with compassion. He was almost there.
"You know…if you stayed, it would make it easier to tell you if I need something."
That was hitting below the belt, but he saw the moment she made up her mind.
"You still sound pretty sick. As long as I'm not disturbing you, I'll stay." She dropped her purse and jacket. Tom fought a victorious grin. Judy eased onto the loveseat near the couch. Her fingers found their way back into his hair. Her touch easing the pain in his head. "Go back to sleep."
"Ok," he mumbled half asleep already.
That sweet smell of vanilla surrounded him again as she drew closer. "You know Hanson," she whispered in his ear, a smile in her voice, "if you wanted me to stay, all you had to do was ask."
His mouth curled into a sleepy smile. In true detective form, she had found him out.
Her lips touched his skin once more. Giving him that final push back into slumber.
Thank you to those who reviewed my previous Jump Street stories. I appreciated the reviews so much. Hope you enjoyed this one.