DISCLAIMER: Not mine. I promise I'm only borrowing them and will return them to their rightful owners whenever they ask for them back. My imagination took a flight of fancy.....my bank account stayed empty. (Seriously, the cast of SVU belong to Dick Wolf and I'm only borrowing them for some free daydreaming that I wrote down.).
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is fluff – I repeat, FLUFF! Anyone expecting serious fic should wander off to something else.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To ncruuk[at]gmail.com
House Calls
By ncruuk
"Alex?"
"In bed..." came the surprisingly weak reply. Bemused, Olivia moved through the apartment to their bedroom where, huddled under the covers, was a miserable looking ADA Cabot.
"Sweetie?"
"Atishoo!" was Alex's interesting response, as she sneezed, followed by a groan. Wordlessly, Olivia passed the box of Kleenex to her groggy lover. "What are you doing here?" she finally mumbled.
"Looking for you," answered Olivia, correctly interpreting the rasping noises that Alex offered by way of conversation.
"Why?"
"Because I rang your office and was told you were at home sick. I was worried so came by to see you."
"Oh."
"You didn't want to tell me?" asked Olivia gently, critically regarding her girlfriend's appearance. She was definitely sick.
"Nmnogh!" came the strange response as Alex buried herself further under the covers.
Abandoning conversation, Olivia slipped out of her leather jacket, unclipped gun, cell, badge and pager, before kicking off her shoes. Leaving Detective Benson at the bottom of the bed, Olivia gently climbed onto the bed until she was sitting at the top, leaning against the pillows, a few inches from the lump that was Alex. Beginning to gently thread her fingers through the normally silky blonde hair, Olivia started to talk gently.
"When your office said you were sick, Cragen told me to come over and see you. He's given me the rest of the day sort of off. I'm on call but don't need to go and work unless it gets really bad. Apparently, since he now knows who you sleep with…" Olivia paused, seeing if her little joke about the first exchange Cragen and Alex had, in the court lobby would get a response. It did, as Alex emerged from the covers and shuffled closer to Olivia, resting her sweaty, aching head on familiar denim clad thigh, "...he's decided that the SVU priority includes keeping our ADA healthy. He thought about sending Nurse Munch...." again a pause to see the reaction. One blue eye opened and tried to glare at Olivia, "...seeing as he had the outfit and all...." the other blue eye opened, this time showing disgust at the mental image Olivia had just provided, "but then decided he wanted you better, not committed to an institution, so sent Munch to interview our latest witness and me to come here," finished Olivia, glad to see that her normally stoical lover was allowing Olivia to look after her and provide comfort. Olivia had never quite understood why Alex had trouble admitting she was sick... 'probably something to do with the mother', said her inner Huang-esque voice, 'it's always something to do with the mother.... '
"Thank you," rasped Alex, snuggling up against Olivia, enjoying the comforting familiar presence: the fact that it was generating heat was an added bonus as far as the feverish blonde was concerned.
"You got a bug?" asked Olivia, still running her hands through the dishevelled hair that now covered her lap.
"No."
"Ok." Mentally, Olivia reviewed what it could be, assuming Alex was correct. It wasn't period pains because Alex didn't get a fever with those, and anyway, the shoe throwing phase had happened last week, as Olivia's left shoulder could still recall. Jimmy Choos hurt when hurled by a PMT suffering Alex. She had been deeply apologetic and Olivia couldn't help but smile as she remembered the 'apology' she had received from her lover a few days later when she had the weekend off.
Dragging her mind back on track, she continued to try to work out what might be wrong. Alex had a fever and what sounded like a sore throat. A quick glance at the bedside table showed evidence of the tablets they both took if their sinuses hurt, but there was nothing for a cough... and the tissues had been too far away for the sneezes to be a frequent occurrence. Looking down at the woozy ADA, now nearly asleep in her lap, Olivia decided to gamble another guess.
"You caught Petrovsky's flu sweetie?"
"NO!" The denial was surprisingly vehement, given how fragile Alex's head was feeling, as confirmed by the groan that followed.
"Do you want to tell me what is wrong?" asked Olivia finally.
"I caught chill" mumbled Alex, hoping Olivia hadn't heard. Some hope.
"A chill?" asked Olivia, trying to sound concerned still.
"Yes."
"But, no one gets chills anymore, do they?" asked Olivia, trying to remember if she'd ever come across someone who had caught a chill outside of 19th century English literature.
"I got wet coming home yesterday," muttered Alex, not enjoying Olivia's humour.
"And now you have a chill?"
"Yes."
"Wow!" That prompted Alex to haul herself into an upright sitting position, not caring what she used as a handhold. Prudently, Olivia held her tongue.
"Wow?" croaked Alex.
"I never knew you were part English," teased Olivia, threading her hands through Alex's hair.
"I'm not!"
"But you must be."
"Why?"
"Because only the English ever caught chills in my literature classes," teased Olivia some more.
"Hmph" Alex pouted and tried to sulk. If there was one thing you should never do, it was question where a Cabot came from... unless it was somewhere respectable like up-state New York with a place in the Hamptons or Cape Cod.
"I'm glad you've got a chill sweetie, really," began Olivia, smiling kindly, only to earn a smack on the arm from Alex.
"Hey, let me finish!" protested Olivia, catching the violent hand before it hit again. "I was going to say, because I haven't been caught in the rain recently, and it's not raining in here. I can't catch a chill from you... so you have no excuse to try to kick me out of this bed," explained Olivia, silencing Alex's usual protests when she was sick.
"Now, I'm going to turn the TV on really quiet and watch baseball or something, and you're going to drink some of your water and try to sleep some more, kay?" Olivia pressed a kiss to Alex's forehead.
"Kay" came the woozy response, Alex's limited energy already draining. Carefully, Olivia held the glass of cool water to her lover's lips, helping her sip as much as she could before then guiding Alex's body back down onto the mattress. Patiently, she waited for Alex to shuffle and poke her body so that Olivia was the perfect pillow and snuggling companion. Threading her fingers once more through the long strands of hair, lifting them away from the flushed face, she hummed a sort of lullaby as Alex drifted off into a feverish slumber.
Quietly, Olivia turned the TV on to something she could watch without sound, before picking up the phone by the bed. Dialing a number, she waited.
"Elliot? It's me."
"She'll be fine."
"No, not food poisoning."
"You'll never guess"
"No."
"No."
"No."
"NO! It's not morning sickness, honestly, Elliot!"
"Give up then?"
"A chill."
"Yes, I know, no one gets chills anymore..."
"I'll see you on Monday Elliot…" declared Olivia, tossing her cell phone back on the bedside table, before settling back to watch over her lover as she fought with a chill, a chill no one was supposed to get anymore…
The End