@do-not-mind-that-freak requested some cuddly Jack so here we go.
She had closed the door gently behind her as she took off her shoes and put her purse down on the bench in the hallway. She had gotten a call from her husband’s boss letting her know he was shipping Jack home due to a high fever and a cough.
Peaking around the corner, she saw the top of his head buried under at least 3 blankets. She smiled sadly at the sight of Jack laying on the couch, looking to be asleep for the moment.
Once changed into a pair of comfy PJ pants and a hoodie, she took a seat on the opposite couch and studied her husband.
He has been working nonstop for the last few days as a major story had broken at the newspaper, causing his skills as an artist to be needed overtime. He hadn’t been sleeping all that well due to inspiration hitting at odd times - there had been a few times she had found him asleep at his drafting table as she had left for her own job in the morning.
Hearing little puffs of air escape his mouth, she smiled at how innocent he looked. Hearing her cell phone chime, she quickly picked it up, seeing Race had texted her about Jack. After assuring him Jack would be okay, she was startled to see Jack’s eyes opened and staring at her. “How long have you been home?”
“Few minutes. Heard you had a rough day.” She smiled sympathetically at him. “Dawson said he was shipping your butt home and that you should’ve never come into work.”
Pitiful was the best way she could describe him as he coughed. “The McCarthy trial was today and I had to get the sketches turned in. Besides I was only going to stay to turn those in then come back here.”
“I swear Jack there are times you don’t have a brain.” She sighed. “We do work at the same place. If you weren’t feeling all that well, I could’ve taken your sketches in.”
He remained quiet, looking guilty. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. I could’ve taken them in for you and saved you the effort.” She stood, reaching over and feeling his head. “Have you taken your temp?”
He grabbed her hand, pulling her on top of the many blankets before nodding. “It was 102 when I got home. I warmed up some soup before collapsing here and haven’t moved.”
“You should probably take a cool shower, to try and get that fever down. Have you taken anything?” Running her hand through his hair, she bit her lip trying to figure out what else he could do. She’d just have to watch over him that night.
He shook his head, until he realized that wasn’t the smartest thing to do and made a face. “You poor thing. How about I get you some aspirin and you attempt to get off the couch and get a shower?”
She walked into the kitchen, grabbed two aspirin and a bottle of water, seeing no progress had been made in the living room. Handing him the medicine and water, she watched him take it before holding out her hand. “Come on, let’s get you into the shower.”
“You’re gonna take a shower with me?” His eyes lit up as much as they could, as awful as he felt, he was still joking around.
Shaking her head, she was tempted to hit him but knew how much pain he was in. “Not quite Sherlock. I’ll sit in the bathroom while you shower to make sure you don’t fall over and die.”
He was quiet as they maneuvered into the bathroom. “I’m going to get you some clean clothes. Go ahead and get in the shower.”
She waited until the shower turned on before grabbing the first pair of sweatpants and hoodie that she found before stepping into the bathroom. “How are you doing?”
“Just dandy!” His sarcasm was in full force as she rolled her eyes, taking a seat on the closed toilet lid. She took a few minutes to answer the text messages that had come through from Medda, Race, and Albert. Seemed word had gotten around that Jack was sick. “Talk to me, Kat. Tell me about your day.”
This was a common dinner time activity for the two of them. “I turned in my big article to Billy and he said it would run the day after tomorrow’s edition. They want to send me to Jersey for some potential big story but I told them to send Jenkins instead.”
“Why would you give up a potential story?” He asked as the shower stopped and a hand came out to grab the nearest towel.
“Because you’re sick and I’m not leaving you to fend by yourself.” She grinned as he threw back the shower curtain. “If you weren’t sick, Kelly . . .”
He chuckled, before coughing, looking absolutely miserable. “Rain check, Kelly.”
Giving him the thumbs up, she smiled. “I’m going to make some tea. Is there anything else you want?”
“Chicken noodle soup?” He looked hopefully as he threw the hoodie over his head.
She nodded. “I’ll see if we have any, otherwise I can get some from the deli downstairs. Take your time getting to the couch, I don’t need you passing out.”
Saluting her, Jack finished getting dressed, pausing to cough every few seconds. As promised, he took his time getting to the couch, a cup of tea waiting for him on the coffee table. “Hey Kat?”
“Yes, dear husband of mine?”
He smiled at the pet name. “Can you get me a pair of fuzzy socks?”
Nodding, she disappeared into the bedroom, throwing them at him before going to get his bowl of chicken noodle soup.
The sight that greeted her as she came with the chicken noodle soup would be one that would stay with her for the rest of her life. Jack had three blankets on him while trying to put the fuzzy socks on with a pitiful look on his face. “Help?”
Putting the soup on the coffee table, she told him to lay down before putting the socks on his feet. Motioning him to sit up, she gave him the soup before sitting next to him. “How do you feel?”
Taking in a deep breath of soup vapors, he smiled. “Better. I think my fever broke. Don’t feel so hot.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so or else you wouldn’t need three blankets plus fuzzy socks on you.” She reached for his forehead, still feeling the heat radiate off of it. “Finish your soup then you can take a nap.”
“Will you stay with me?” He gave her the most pitiful, sick look making her not wanting to be anywhere else.
Nodding, she took two of the blankets off him before sitting at the end with a pillow in her lap. He slurped the broth, with a satisfied sigh, before laying his head on the pillow and cuddling into the thick blanket on top of him. She threaded her fingers through his hair, him sleepily sighing closing his eyes. Soon the only sound in the apartment was his wisps of breaths as he slept.
She whispers that she loved him before taking a quick photo of him, texting Race, Medda, and Albert telling them he was slowly on the mend and that he’d be alright. Relaxing back into the couch, she grabbed her book and spent the afternoon reading while her husband slept the day away, slowly fighting off his cold.
