RUNNING HOT II (a multifandom fever!fic comment meme)
Colds, flu, infections, insect-borne pathogens. Poisons, curses, spells.
Chills, sweats, delirium, hallucinations.
Huddling for warmth. Cool cloths. Unanticipated handsiness.
Delirious confessions of love. Confessions of love while the other person is unconscious.
Repressed memories rising to the surface.
The possibilities are endless.
( Read more... )
Chills, sweats, delirium, hallucinations.
Huddling for warmth. Cool cloths. Unanticipated handsiness.
Delirious confessions of love. Confessions of love while the other person is unconscious.
Repressed memories rising to the surface.
The possibilities are endless.
( Read more... )
They were notifying the widow of the morning’s victim when the chills started in earnest. He was inside the house, which he thought must be reasonably warm, but he was still keeping his jacket zipped up tight and was planning on pulling on his hoodie as soon as they were out, and he was shivering, not to mention his throat. Hank gave him a side-eye when a particularly violent shudder made him sit up straighter. Even the widow, who was trying to keep it together enough to detail their financial situation, noticed that something wasn’t right.
“Sorry, please carry on,” Nick mumbled, giving her what he hoped was a mixture of reassuring and understanding smile. God, but he was cold.
Oooo
“You’re sick. You’re actually sick,” Hank pointed out on the drive back to the prescient. Nick’s mood was sour. This couldn’t have come at a worse time, what with the work and his Grimm duties piling up, not to mention if one of those lunatic reapers showed up now and tried to take his head off. Plus he wanted to keep investigating the last guy tied to his parent’s murder. The timing couldn’t have been worse if someone had planned it.
“It’s weird,” Hank continued, “you looked fine this morning. Very sudden, eh? You’re getting more and more delicate in your old age, my friend.”
An even deeper shiver ran down his back as things suddenly clicked into place with unprecedented clarity. Fuck. He was in trouble.
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“I will,” Nick promised, and he had every intention of doing just that. Which is why he made a beeline for Rosalee’s shop as soon as he was behind the wheel of his car, barely restraining himself from exceeding the speed limit.
By now his throat was hurting so much that he couldn’t yell, and when he didn’t see her immediately he pounded urgently on the counter and the bell. Rosalee presently bustled out of the back, looking alarmed.
“Nick! What’s the matter?”
Nick was hunched in his jacket, with his hoodie pulled up and he was shivering non-stop. He probably looked like a junkie looking for a fix, and from the way Rosalee was eyeing him he wondered if the same image hadn’t popped into her head.
“Cursed, I think,” he rasped out, then grimaced. Speaking was really on a need-to basis right now.
Rosalee carefully put a hand on his cheek and looked him straight in the eyes. Slowly, almost dreamily, Nick saw her face shift into her wessen form, and he had the distinct impression that she sniffed him. “What, exactly, are you feeling?” she asked, putting her warm hands on his chilled ones.
“Cold,” he replied, “all of a sudden. And,” he grimaced again, touching his throat.
“All of a sudden when? Within the last fifteen minutes? Open your mouth,” she produced a small flashlight from a mug full of pens and examined the inside of his throat. She clucked, then looked at him seriously.
“Er, since this morning,” Nick admitted. It was now late afternoon. Rosalee looked to the side, her face reverting to fully human. The image of sergeant Wu, with boils erupting all over his face in a matter of seconds, hung between them.
“I do have something that can help you,” she said, pursing her lips to hide a perfectly obvious grin. She took a paper bag and scooped some herbs from three different drawers on the wall behind her. “Chamomile, ginger and lemon tea. Add a generous dollop of honey, you’ve earned it.”
Nick took the bag, feeling a little slow and still spooked. He was getting the impression that this wasn’t some kind of antidote for a curse. And Rosalee didn’t seem even remotely concerned.
“That’s it?” He asked, just to be sure.
“Well, I also recommend that you get your doctor to prescribe you some antibiotics... that’s a nasty throat infection you’ve got going.”
“Uh.” Nick replied intelligently.
“Stress can really play havoc on a human’s immune system,” she added gently. “Why don’t you go home and rest? Do you need me to call someone? Monroe, perhaps?”
Nick widened his eyes, and shook his head with a horrified expression. A perfectly normal, mundane throat infection and he was jumping at shadows. Bad enough that e had made a fool of himself in front of her, he really didn’t want this to get back to Monroe.
“All right, then. Now, you take that home and feel better. No, no, my treat, it’s the least I can do. If you need anything else you know where to find me.”
Nick thanked her and retreated back to his car.
A Grimm with a throat infection. He gave a snort of laughter, then stopped and swallowed convulsively when it scraped his sore throat. With all that had happened, it seemed that he had forgotten about having a normal life. He turned on the car and drove home, relieved. For once he could tell Juliette the complete and unvarnished truth and, despite the chills, it made him almost happy.
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And then it ends with implied Nick/Juliette schmoop and cuddles!
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And, now that I think about it, Nick is going to have to tell Juliette where he got the tea... Perhaps Juliette is going to get some more and will meet the helpful owner... or catch Monroe there...
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You're up on the master list. If you post to AO3, remember you can put it in the Running Hot collection.
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Eh, I don't have an AO3 account, but I'll keep it in mind ;-P
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