[pfsb+new mexico] achoo

[porcupineliz]

It's morning on the third day of a four-day visit, and they seem to actually be still enjoying each other's company. For a miracle. Today they're supposed to go exploring one of the nearby neighborhoods, and Liz went to bed last night in happy anticipation.

... and can't seem to pull herself out of the guest bed this morning.

Maybe it's got something to do with the cough and headache she seems to have developed overnight.

Comments

[dr_j]

He pulls out the writing tablet from his desk, balances the tray on it (it's within reach of the bed) -- and holds out the thermometer. "I could do the honors if you don't want to."

[porcupineliz]

"Nah," she says, unbundling one hand from the covers and reaching for the thermometer, "I got it, thanks."

Carefully she slides it under her tongue, and then closes her eyes to wait for it to beep.

[dr_j]

Jordie, meanwhile, places the tray on the desk proper and pulls the two mugs onto the desk extension. Quiet: "Soup is chicken. No spice. If you don't feel up to it, that's fine -- it keeps well. Do you have anything in particular that you want?"

[porcupineliz]

She makes a muffled sound and subsides, gesturing to the thermometer in her mouth and holding up a finger for one second.

A quick run of beeping signals that the thermometer's done its work; she pulls it out and squints blearily at the numbers.

"Hundred and one point eight," she mumbles, "I think is what it says?

[dr_j]

Jordie gently takes it from her, squints at it. "Good call," he says cheerfully. "Looks like you'll live."

[porcupineliz]

"Hurray for me." She twirls one finger wearily. "And tea sounds really great right now. And the aspirin. Maybe the soup after that."

She fumbles for one of the extra tissues she brought from the bathroom, and wipes her nose. "D'you have a spare box of tissues?"

[dr_j]

"Sure." He straightens. "Back shortly."

[porcupineliz]

When he comes back, one of the aspirin is gone, and Liz is gingerly sipping tea, holding the mug in both hands like a small child.

"Thanks," she says again, lowering the mug to her lap and smiling, a little more awake-looking -- and also a little shamefaced.

[dr_j]

Jordie plunks down the box of kleenex on Liz's bedside. "Of course. Can I get you anything else?"

[porcupineliz]

"Is there a trash can I can put tissues in? Or a bag, or something?"

[dr_j]

Jordie bends and edges the trash can he keeps under his desk next to Liz's bed.

[porcupineliz]

"Ta-da," she says, with some faint vestige of her usual cheer coming through the muzziness and aches. "Thanks so much. For the ..." Waving one hand feebly. "Everything."

[dr_j]

Jordie laughs, low -- and goes to the bookshelf, where a small bell sits on the top shelf. He puts it near the tray, within reach. "If you need anything," he says.

[porcupineliz]

She laughs in turn -- at least a little, before it snags on a cough. "And here I was just planning to text you or something."

[dr_j]

"We believe in tradition around here." A crooked smile. "Rest up. I'll check in on you later, unless you ring first."

[porcupineliz]

"Yes sir, mister doctor." Liz mimes a salute, and settles further back against the pillows to finish the tea and take the second aspirin.

It isn't very long after that she's asleep again.

[dr_j]

And Jordie cleans -- quietly.

Reads, quietly.

Catches up on email, quietly.

[porcupineliz]

When he comes in to check on her she's still lying there, eyes closed.

She's also flushed, her temples just slightly damp, and muttering.

[dr_j]

Jordie eyes this, disappears into the kitchen, and comes back with a glass of water.

"Liz." Low. "Wake up. You need water."

[porcupineliz]

"I didn't," she says, quite distinctly, and then blinks.

"Hnnh?"

[dr_j]

"You need to stay hydrated," he says gently. "You can go back to sleep right after."

[porcupineliz]

Muzzily, she looks up at him, and focuses on the waterglass in his hand. "Oh."

Slowly, with some effort, she pushes herself sufficiently vertical to take the glass and drink.

[dr_j]

Jordie edges himself down into his desk chair, and gazes out the window.

[porcupineliz]

A long, ragged breath, as she finishes the water.

"Weirdest dreams," she mumbles. "Like everything's ... running."

[dr_j]

Jordie says, softly, still looking out the window, "I could ward the room against them. If you wanted."