Fic: Sick Day
Title: Sick Day
Author: Lindsay (nylana)
Beta: Mary (stillxmyxheart)
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 6,048
Characters/Pairings: April, Nathan, Simon, Sam, Laurie, Harrison (April/Simon)
Summary: Some people willingly take sick days, and some have to shoved down a hallway in an office chair by Sam Shipton. It should be no surprise which category April Newcastle falls into.
A/N: Some of you may recall a blurb in my last Simon/April angstfest fic about how one day April was sick and refused to go home and Sam, well, made her. At the time I didn't think I could make a whole fic out of it, and I was content to let it be a passing snippet. Apparently, I was wrong. At the encouragement of my darling braintwin, I managed to turn it into what I think is one of the biggest piles of fluff I have ever written. I know, I know. There's virtually no angst and absolutely no smut here. (There is one teeny tiny bit of UST though.) Yeah, I don't know what's wrong with me either. XD
April Newcastle was sick.
She should have known something was wrong when she woke up that morning with a splitting headache, as if the previous three days of intermittent coughing fits and random sneezes weren't obvious enough. Still, she pushes herself out of bed and shuffles to the bathroom. Her shoulder hits the doorframe hard as she fights a wave of dizziness, and she grabs at her arm, rubbing the spot she knows will have a large purple bruise later.
After swallowing two aspirin, she leans against the vanity, staring at her reflection, and frowns at the dark circles and paleness of her complexion. The thought that maybe this isn't just a cold and that maybe she should stay home for once enters her mind, only to be brushed aside as she turns on the shower. The water is deliciously warm, again raising the idea that she could just stay here all day, basking in the steamy comfort. She takes a deep breath, the heat relaxing and opening her nasal passages, quieting the rasp in her lungs. Then she pushes the thought away. She hasn't missed a day of work since she started working for Harrison, and she isn't about to let a little thing like a cold stop her.
"April?" Nathan whispers, gently nudging her arm.
She startles and turns to look at him, her eyes wide. "What?"
"Would you like to review the talking points for the morning briefing?" he asks. The corner of his mouth curls in amusement, watching as she looks around the conference table and sees several pairs of eyes all fixed on her.
She runs a hand through her hair and shakes her head, smiling awkwardly. A few shuffles of paper later, she's running down the list, but she knows that her mind isn't focused as it should be.
Several more times Nathan catches her staring off into space, once in the Cabinet meeting and twice during the budget review before lunch. She goes into a coughing fit in the hallway and her pockets are overflowing with wads of Kleenex. He catches her arm as she exits Harrison's office, slowing her pace so he can walk beside her.
"Are you feeling okay?" he asks, dipping his head to try to get a good look at her face. He knows she's been fighting a cold the last few days, but this seems like something more serious. She looks drained and lifeless, more like a zombie than April, and it's not like her to be so distracted or to not pay attention in meetings.
She looks up at Nathan and smiles. "I'm fine. It's just this damn cold. It won't leave me alone."
He frowns, not quite believing her or the dark circles under her eyes. "Maybe you should take the rest of the day off?"
"No!" she replies quickly, and he looks at her with raised eyebrows. "I - I'm fine, Nathan, really. I've just - I've got a lot of work to do, so I'll see you later."
She hurries off down the hall, leaving Nathan to stand there with his hands on his hips, shaking his head.
Simon comes to find her for lunch, stopping inside the door to her office, leaning to side and just watching her for a moment. He looks at her with concern, noticing how she's just staring at her monitor, hand resting on the mouse but not moving, and her eyes sort of glazed over. He clears his throat and she doesn't budge, doesn't even blink.
"April?" he says gently, moving to stand in front of her desk.
She shakes her head and blinks rapidly, looking up at him with surprise. "Simon," she replies, dabbing at her nose with a tissue, "what are you doing here?"
His brow knits and he glances at his watch. "Um, it's almost noon. I thought -"
"Oh!" she exclaims. "Lunch, right, I guess I just - I guess I got distracted by work, sorry."
He moves around behind her desk, leaning against the edge so he can see her face without her computer screen in the way. He knew she wasn't feeling well last night, which is why he decided to head home early and let her get some rest, but it seems she's gotten worse overnight. Reaching out a hand, he sweeps a lock of hair off her forehead and with just that light touch he can feel how warm she is.
"Hey," he says, brushing the back of his hand over her forehead, "sweetheart, it feels like you have a fever, maybe you should take the afternoon off?"
April huffs and bats his hand away, pushing her chair back from the desk. "Why does no one believe me when I say I'm fine?"
Because you're not, he thinks, but keeps it to himself. He follows her as she strides around the desk and heads for the door.
"I have a cold, and a bit of a headache, but honestly, I'm fine," she insists. She turns in the doorway with her arms folded over her chest. "So can we just go to lunch now?"
"Yeah," he says, slipping his hands in his pockets. He knows it's pointless to argue with her when she's being this stubborn, so he just trails behind her to the cafeteria.
She picks at her food and catches herself wincing more than once at the harsh florescent lighting and the way it makes her head throb. Part of her really wants nothing more than to curl up in bed, but all she can think about is the mountain of work to be done and how the whole place seems to fall apart if she's gone for too long.
Simon walks her back to her office but she barely remembers it, only registering that she's back when he kisses her on the forehead and pushes one more time for her to go home. She promises herself that she will leave a little early, or maybe just on time, but when she sees ten new emails and four missed calls she sighs and knows it's a lie.
Sam pauses outside the door to his office, turning to see Nathan and Simon coming down the corridor in close conversation. Nathan nods to him as they pass and he just catches Simon saying something about April still working.
"She's still here?" he asks, his voice a combination of annoyance and disbelief. Just about everyone has suggested she take the day off, go home, and get some rest, so he really shouldn't be surprised that she didn't. It's exactly what he expects of her. Her work ethic is second to none, save maybe his, which means they've both been in the elevator riding down to the garage together, long after everyone else has gone.
Nathan and Simon stop and simultaneously spin around to see Sam frowning. The two men look at each other with raised eyebrows and something unspoken passes between them before they look back to Sam.
"Yeah, she is," Simon replies carefully.
Sam nods and shakes his head. "Well not for long she's not."
As he turns and strides down the hall towards the elevator, Nathan calls out, "You know how stubborn she can be."
Sam raises a hand in acknowledgement and then pushes the button for the lift. "Oh I know," he mutters.
April stares at the page of notes in front of her, unable to make heads or tails of what she's written. Sighing, she folds her arms and lets her head drop, blocking out the harsh office light. She thinks she's just going to rest her eyes for minute, shifting her head a little to be more comfortable.
Sam takes two steps into April's office and then stops abruptly, the corner of his mouth twitching as he fights the urge to smile. He folds his arms over his chest and tilts his head, watching the steady rise and fall of her body as she sleeps. Her head is resting on her forearms, blonde hair spilling over notes and post-its and pens. She shifts and turns her face to the side, cheek pressing against her wrist.
He chuckles softly and walks up to the front of her desk, leaning over her cautiously. "April?" he says softly, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder and then stops, hovering just over the silk of her blouse. She moves a little and exhales, but doesn't wake up. A lock of hair flops over her face and his hand curls into a fist to keep from catching it between his fingers and lifting it away.
"April," he says again, a little louder than before, and she finally stirs.
April lifts her head up and blinks, looking around her office for the source of the voice. She jumps when her eyes find Sam staring down at her bemusedly. A second later she straightens and sits back in her chair, coughing into her hand.
"Oh, S-Sam," she stutters, and then wiping her nose with a tissue. "I was uh, just um - just going over the notes from the uh -"
He laughs lightly. "The staff meeting?"
"What?" She frowns, blinks and then immediately recovers. "Yeah, right, staff meeting." She starts shuffling papers on her desk, trying to look like she didn't just get caught sleeping on her desk in the middle of the day.
He smirks. "April." She looks up and smiles, but it's tight and forced, and his face falls. "You're sick."
"Don't you start too," she says, holding up a hand. "It's just a cold. I'm -"
Sam's right eyebrow curves up and he stares down his nose at her, watching as her speech halts and her mouth slowly closes. She sits back in her chair, arms folded across her chest in defiance. They eye each other for a short while over the span of her desk, until Sam finally sighs and she smirks in satisfaction, picking up her purse to fetch another Kleenex for her already sore nose.
Sam strides around the side of her desk and takes hold of her chair, turning it to the side. April looks back at him, confused, her eyes going wide as he starts pushing. She grips the arm of the chair in one hand and her purse in the other as he maneuvers it from behind her desk and towards the door of her office.
"Sam!" she exclaims, tipping her head up to look at him. He looks back down at her and smiles. "What are you doing?"
He gives the chair another shove forward, pushing it through the doorway. "I'm doing what you should have done hours ago." Then he wheels a shocked and sneezing April past an equally stunned Laurie, who pauses with her coffee mug halfway to her mouth to stare.
Sam waves casually to Laurie, as if he can be found moving around office furniture with staff in it every other day, before he eases the chair out of the Press Office door and into the hallway. April puts her feet down and tries to dig in, but her heels slip on the tile floor. He keeps right on moving until they are in front of the elevator.
As if on cue the doors open and he gives the chair one last shove, pushing it onto the lift. He reaches around and pushes the button for the parking garage level, then leans against the wall. April squeals as she slides towards the back wall of the elevator, stops and spins around. She moves to get up, but the doors are already closing. The last thing she hears as she reaches futilely for the open door button is Sam ordering her, in a rather stern voice, to go home.
She leans against the cool wall of the elevator and closes her eyes. Her headache is back, her throat is raw from coughing and the Vice President just caught her sleeping at her desk. She supposes this is as low as it gets. The elevator dings and the doors open to the parking garage as she pulls her car keys out of her purse.
Sam nods to Laurie as he wheels the empty office chair back into April's office. She raises a perfectly arched eyebrow at him as he passes, and then turns back to the file in front of her. He takes a few minutes to turn off April's computer and flip off the lights before he heads back up to his own office.
An hour later, Simon peeks in the door and asks if he has seen April. Smiling, Sam replies, "I sent her home."
A sharp noise wakes April from her drug induced nap. She lifts her head off the pillow, frowns and looks around her darkened bedroom for the source of the offending noise. She hears the noise again and finally recognizes it as a knock. She sighs, letting her head flop back down, and rolls over on her back to stare at the ceiling.
It's probably Simon, she thinks, coming over to see how she is since, thanks to Sam, she didn't exactly get to tell anyone she was leaving. She climbs out of bed and shuffles into the living room where her visitor seems to have ceased knocking. Rising up on her toes, she peers through the peephole and startles when she sees Nathan standing in her hallway.
"Hi," she says, pulling the door open just enough to poke her head out. "What um -?"
"Hey," Nathan replies softly, concern evident in his voice. "Harrison's heading to London tonight, you know, and one of the agents had a family emergency, so Simon's going in his place."
"To London?" she exclaims, practically flinging the door open as her hands snap to her hips and she stares at Nathan incredulously.
"No, no, not to London," Nathan explains, raising his hands to calm her. "Just to Andrews, but since he'll be working late, I thought I'd come over and make sure you were all right." April relaxes and smiles, leaning against the door frame. "So, are you all right?"
She sighs and wipes at her sore nose. "Yeah, I'm a little better."
Nathan smiles and leans close. "So can I come in then or are we going to talk in the hallway all evening?"
"Sorry," she says, stepping aside so he can come in. He's been in her apartment several times, but never without Simon, and it feels odd for him to be here alone.
It isn't until she's about to shut and lock the door that she realizes the two agents accompanying Nathan are carrying things. She moves back and they enter her apartment, hastily setting a couple of bags and what looks like a casserole dish on her dining room table. One of them gives her an awkward smile and a shrug on his way out.
April looks around for Nathan and finds him in the kitchen, peeking in her cupboards.
"So what's all this, then?" she asks.
He smiles and slips past her to collect the items off the table. "I brought dinner," he replies simply, as if that's all the explanation she needs.
She just shakes her head and settles against the counter to watch him. "I'm sorry I was such a zombie this morning."
He tsks as he sets the temperature on the oven and removes the foil from the casserole dish. "You've got nothing to be sorry about. If you're sick, you're sick. There's no shame in taking a day off you know."
April sighs again. "I know, but there's just so much to do. And I feel like -"
"April," Nathan interrupts, turning to face her. "There's always going to be so much to do. But if you don't take care of yourself, you won't get any of it done." Then he leans forward and kisses her forehead lightly.
He pulls back, frowning. "You feel hot." He presses the back of his hand to her forehead, and then shakes his head. "You still have a fever. Take some more aspirin and go lay down." Then he turns back to his dinner preparations.
She rolls her eyes and pushes off the counter, muttering, "Thanks, Dad."
As soon as the words leave her mouth he freezes, wondering if he heard what he thinks he just heard. She probably didn't mean it, but the thought that she would - that she might - think of him as a father, is the strangest feeling. His stomach flips as a slow warming creeps over him and somewhere in the back of his mind comes the notion that he already loves her like a daughter.
April gasps quietly and clamps a hand over her mouth. She watches as Nathan stops working and just stands there. A single word hangs between them and it hits her how easy it was to say, how it rolled off her tongue naturally. She's known him for over four years, and his son for almost three, and somehow in that time he's come to be the closest thing to a real father she's ever had.
"S-sorry," she stutters, running a hand through her hair. "I was just -"
He turns around and gives her a small smile. "No, it's - it's fine." She bites her lip in that nervous way he's come to find so endearing and he shakes his head. "Really. It's fine."
The corner of her mouth curves slightly and she nods, moving towards the kitchen door. "I'm just gonna go find that aspirin."
Later, they are settled on the couch watching the evening news when the timer on the oven rings out. Nathan pops up out of his seat and hurries to retrieve dinner, setting it on a trivet as he busies himself with fetching plates and silverware. April stretches and wanders to the bedroom to change out of her pajamas. As she passes by the bedroom window she pauses and watches as four black SUVs pull up to the curb. The doors open on two of them and several dark suited men she knows immediately as Secret Service exit and begin surveying the area. She tugs on a clean t-shirt and her most comfortable pair of jeans and strides quickly into the living room just as the knocking begins.
Nathan sets the last plate on the table and makes it to the door before April. He makes a quick check through the peephole and smirks as he pulls the door open.
April's mouth drops open. "Sam?"
Sam smiles as he steps into the apartment, starting to shrug off his overcoat. "Hello," he replies. "Feeling better?"
"I - um," she starts, running a hand through her hair and looking around in dismay at the cluttered state of her apartment. "Yeah, I'm uh - I'm fine. I told you I didn't need to go home."
Sam frowns and opens his mouth to reply, but Nathan interrupts. "Yes, you're completely fine, that's why you have a fever, a nose that won't stop running and a poor disposition."
"I do not have a poor disposition," she objects, pouting at Nathan.
Nathan ignores her response and turns to Sam, taking his coat and placing it on the rack by the door. "I'm glad you're here, Sam, we have a serious problem."
"Oh?" Sam remarks.
"Well," Nathan begins, "I've been here for the better part of an hour and she hasn't laughed at any of my jokes or smiled once."
Sam glances at April who gives Nathan a tired look. "Oh dear. That is quite the problem."
Nathan hums in agreement and heads for the kitchen. "I even made Shepard's Pie."
"Oh well that explains it," Sam says, following after Nathan with his hands in his pockets. Nathan stops in the doorway of the kitchen and gives him a look. "She's eating your cooking, who can smile at that?"
April smiles slightly and swipes a tissue across her nose.
"Oh shut up," Nathan snaps, stepping into the kitchen. "You love my cooking, old man."
Sam chuckles. "Old? Well, that's the pot calling the ket -"
"Why am I always the pot?" Nathan's head peeks around the corner into the dining room.
Sam looks at him oddly. "What?" Then he shakes his head and says, "Because that's the way the expression goes, the pot calls the kettle - that's the way it is."
Nathan's voice calls out from the kitchen. "Says who?"
Sam sighs in exasperation, knowing that Nathan is just being a smart ass for the sake of being a smart ass. "Says hundreds of years of the English language. Now where is this alleged dinner you said you made?"
Nathan steps out of the kitchen, a casserole dish held between two pot holders. "See," he says, looking at April, "he loves my cooking."
April smiles a little more and shakes her head. "You two bicker like you're married."
The two men look at each other with raised eyebrows. Then Nathan turns his head towards April. "He should be so lucky."
"You're not my type," Sam says with a smirk.
Nathan nods and goes back into the kitchen to bring out another place setting for Sam. "True."
April finally smiles. "Female?"
Nathan sets a plate down and grins. "No," he replies. "Blonde."
He looks knowingly at Sam, smirks, and then heads back into the kitchen. April throws her head back, laughing, then almost immediately starts sneezing. Nathan bites back a laugh as Sam blushes furiously, ducking his head as he slips off his suit jacket and drapes it over a chair. When he finally looks up, he sees April has gone back into the living room.
He follows her, eyes scanning the space thoughtfully. There are a few pictures lining the top of a short, but well stocked bookshelf, including one of her and Simon and Nathan from Harrison's birthday party, and another of her and Penny. There's also one of him from the last formal state dinner, trussed up in a tuxedo, which he finds a bit surprising, though it's clear from the angle that she took it rather surreptitiously. He glances at the spines of a few well worn books, smiling when he sees several that are in his own expansive collection.
April scurries around the room, picking up papers and wishing she had spent her time home cleaning instead of sleeping, or that she had some idea that she'd be having company. Sam has been to her apartment on one other occasion but never made it past the hallway. Having him here, actually in her living space makes her nervous, though she isn't sure why. They aren't exactly strangers, were even stuck in an elevator once for three hours in formal attire, but this is somehow more intimate and personal than anything they've experienced so far.
Sam catches her arm as she turns with a hand full of magazines. "What are you doing?"
"Well I didn't realize I'd be having company -," she pauses to toss a look in Nathan's direction, and then continues, "and this place is a complete disaster." Then she shrugs off Sam's arm and sets the magazines neatly on the coffee table.
"April," Sam says with a smile, "it's fine."
She sighs. "No, it's not. I can't believe the first time you've seen my home it's this atrocious."
"I've seen your office," he says pointedly.
She stops in the middle of straightening the lamp on the side table and shakes her head, her lips curving slightly. "Point taken."
She turns and suddenly the room does too, spinning around her and blurring while she feels like she's standing perfectly still. Her head throbs for a second and she pitches forward, the carpet and the corner of the coffee table zooming towards her at an alarming rate. Then, just as suddenly, a pair of firm hands catch her arms and she falls against something softer and warmer, though no less solid. She blinks and looks up to find Sam staring down at her, concern written across his face.
"All right?" he asks. She braces herself on his chest as she finds her footing again, but he doesn't let go right away. "April?"
"Yeah," she says, taking a few deep breaths to calm her pounding heart. She realizes that his heart is also beating rather fast under her palm, and she steps back. His hands slide from her arms and she misses their warmth almost immediately, shivering a little.
He dips his head to see her face, still unconvinced there's nothing wrong. "Are you sure?"
"I'm fine, Sam," she replies, smiling slightly. "I just got a bit dizzy."
He nods. "I'm guessing that's because you haven't eaten properly today."
She looks a bit sheepish and just opens her mouth to speak when Nathan interrupts. "Are you two going to come eat or did I go to all this trouble for nothing?"
April glances at Sam as they walk towards the table where Nathan is standing. "Do you think we should?"
Sam pulls out a chair for her to sit and replies, "Let's wait until he takes a bite first, just to be safe."
Nathan sits and shoves a large forkful into his mouth, glaring at Sam.
Sam slips his overcoat on, flipping the collar out and straightening it so it lies properly. "Thank you both for a lovely dinner."
Nathan smiles at his friend. "Anytime."
Beside Nathan, April stands looking tired but happy. She steps forward to open the door for Sam, holding back a grin at the plethora of agents lining the corridor. She wonders if her landlord would have rented her the place if he knew at the time where she worked and what she did for a living. On the upside, the tenants had probably never felt safer.
Sam moves towards the door, stopping just inside and smiling down at April. There's a lock of hair that's sprung loose from her ponytail and he lifts a hand partway, intending to brush it aside before he catches himself. She dips her head and tucks the offending hair behind her ear, as if she knew what he was thinking.
Looking up, she tilts her head slightly and smiles. "Goodnight, Sam."
"Goodnight," he replies. Then he nods to Nathan and strides down the hallway, the agents falling into step around him.
April pushes the door shut and flips the lock, turning to lean against it. She yawns and sniffs, then looks to Nathan.
"Tired?" he asks, knowing full well that she is just by looking at her.
"No," she replies, stepping away from the door and moving into the living room. She stifles another yawn and flops on the couch.
"You really should get some rest," Nathan says, following her. He sits down at the opposite end of the couch, still slightly unsure of how she's feeling. He kept catching her looking in his direction during dinner, as if she wanted to say something about her earlier slip, but didn't because Sam was there. The thought that she might want to take it back makes his heart ache.
April sighs and flips on the TV, which is still tuned to the twenty four hour news channel. She glances at Nathan but his gaze is fixed on the screen and unreadable. She hopes that he isn't mad over what she said earlier. He knows bits and pieces about her family, things she told him over dinner before Simon was in the picture, and things she knows Simon has told him. Calling him 'Dad' was an unconscious act, but she still can't shake the feeling that a part of her really meant it in a way she never has before, and that she wants to say it again.
A few minutes later, April gets up and goes into the bedroom. She strips off her jeans and puts her pajama pants back on, pulling the elastic from her hair and shaking it out. When she comes back into the living room she sees Nathan bent over with his elbows propped on his knees and his head resting in his hands.
"I'm sorry," she says softly. His head lifts up and he gives her a confused look. "About what I said earlier." She sits down next to him, closer than before, but keeps her eyes on her hands folded in her lap.
"I don't want to say I didn't mean it, I just -" She takes a deep breath and when she looks him in the eye he seems almost sad. It hits her then that he's been thinking the same thing she has, and she smiles a little.
He sighs and sits back, putting an arm around her and pulling her against his side. She curls into him, pulling her feet up and folding her legs under.
After a moment, he kisses her temple lightly and says, "It's okay."
She smiles and leans into him, knowing that if there was ever a man she was going to call 'dad' and mean it, it would be Nathan Gates.
A few minutes later, Nathan glances at April and smiles when he sees her sound asleep. Eventually, he loses the fight with sleep too, and his head drops to the side, cheek resting against the top of her head, pushing his glasses askew.
Hours later, there's a knock at the door. Nathan lifts his head and looks around, blinking. He sets his glasses right and runs a hand through his hair. He looks at April, finding her still asleep, head resting on his shoulder. His arm is pinned by her body pressing into his side, and her arm is wrapped around his torso like he's her own personal teddy bear.
Sighing, he attempts to shift her off of him, but the arm across his middle tightens. He tries once more, nearly succeeding, until she hums contentedly and shifts, somehow burrowing her face further into the space between his shoulder and his neck.
He fights a smile and mutters, "Clingy little thing."
The visitor knocks yet again, this time louder, and he frowns. It's not that his arm has gone a bit tingly from being trapped between the couch and her slender form, because she's really barely any weight at all. It's not that he isn't pleased that she feels comfortable enough to treat him like a pillow. He's actually quite enamored with the idea, almost as much as he is with the idea of her thinking of him like a father. It's just that she looks so peaceful with her cheek a little smushed by his shoulder, and her lips ever so slightly curved into an almost smile, that he really wants to answer the door before the knocking wakes her up.
Then just as he's managed to loosen April's grip, she sits up.
She yawns and then stares in confusion at Nathan. "What -?" There is another knock and she turns towards the door. "Oh."
Nathan stands and goes to open the door as April tries to tame her hair and rub the sleep from her eyes. He pulls it open and finds Simon staring back at him.
Simon tilts his head to the side, looking around Nathan at the sleepy April padding softly across the carpet. His eyes go wide as he looks from April to Nathan and back, surprised to see his girlfriend and his father looking like they both just crawled out of bed. He smirks.
Nathan rubs the back of his neck and says, "This isn't what it looks like. I -"
Simon laughs softly and shakes his head. "It looks like she fell asleep on you and it took you a while to extract yourself from her patented sleep hold."
"Then it's exactly what it looks like," Nathan replies, grinning, as Simon steps inside and walks over to April.
"Feeling better?" Simon asks, brushing her hair back.
"Yeah," she says. Then she yawns and wraps her arms around Simon. "Your dad's an excellent nurse."
Simon smiles at his dad and hugs her back, kissing the top of her head. "Oh?"
Nathan shrugs. "I just brought over dinner, that's all."
Simon's eyes light up and his eyes dart from Nathan to the kitchen and back. "Is there any left?"
April laughs. "It's in the fridge."
Simon kisses her forehead and then heads for the kitchen, pulling off his suit jacket as he goes.
Nathan shakes his head, and turns to April. "I should get going."
"Yeah." She yawns again and shuffles over to Nathan. He spreads his arms and she hugs him tight. "Thanks for taking care of me."
"Anytime," he answers, squeezing her back. "And if I see you at work tomorrow, I'll send Sam down to your office again."
April laughs and pulls back, but doesn't let go. "Is that an order?"
"If I have to draft up the paperwork myself and have Harrison sign it, I will." He gives her a look and she sighs in acquiescence. He plants a quick kiss to her forehead and gives her another hug.
"Fine," she mutters into his shirt. "And I am not clingy."
Nathan laughs and then calls out a goodnight to his son before he leaves. April is just settling back on the couch when Simon wanders into the room, carrying a plate of leftovers.
"So," he says around a mouth full of food, "I heard from Laurie that all it took was Sam telling you to go home?"
April rolls her eyes and yawns. "Something like that."
She proceeds to tell him the entire story, from the way she spaced out in meetings to falling asleep at her desk. When she gets to the part where Sam is wheeling her down the hallway in her chair, Simon sputters and nearly loses a forkful of potato.
She starts to laugh, but yawns instead and Simon realizes how late it is. "You should get to bed."
"So should you," she replies, smiling and leaning against his shoulder, her face turned up to look at him.
"I know I'm probably not as good at being a pillow as my dad, but -" He trails off and she swats at his arm, grinning and pushing to her feet. He takes her hands in his, kissing the back of each one before looking up at her sleepy smile. "You want me to stay?"
She nods and tugs him to his feet and then lets her hands drop, moving into the bedroom. He takes the plate to the kitchen, setting it in the sink before following her. She's already under the covers when he enters, stripping off his shirt and pants on his way around to his designated side of the bed. He slips in beside her and she curls against him automatically, resting her head against his chest and wrapping an arm around his midsection.
"Clingy little thing," he whispers, smiling and kissing the top of her head.
She makes a vague grumbling sound and kicks half heartedly at his shin. He chuckles and lets his eyes fall closed as she hooks her leg over his and gives him a squeeze.
On Monday morning, a clear headed and well rested April strides into the conference room and slides into her usual chair. She looks around the room and notices that there are only four other staff present, noticeably less than the usual fifteen that attend. Harrison enters a moment later, followed by Sam, who smiles at her as he takes the chair to her left.
"Where is everyone?" she whispers, as Harrison starts going through the agenda.
Sam leans close to her, his mouth curving into a slight grin. "Well," he replies, "it seems Nathan, and several other staff, have come down with something."
April snorts and covers her mouth with a hand to stifle her laughter, which earns her a sideways look from Harrison. She smiles at him and he continues as if nothing happened.
"And what?" she asks quietly, sitting forward a little. "They just stayed home?"
Sam sighs. "That is what one should do when one is feeling ill, Miss Newcastle." She rolls her eyes at him and he arches an eyebrow. "Unless, of course, one is unusually stubborn. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
She smirks at him and says, "Nope. Nothing at all."
Author: Lindsay (nylana)
Beta: Mary (stillxmyxheart)
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 6,048
Characters/Pairings: April, Nathan, Simon, Sam, Laurie, Harrison (April/Simon)
Summary: Some people willingly take sick days, and some have to shoved down a hallway in an office chair by Sam Shipton. It should be no surprise which category April Newcastle falls into.
A/N: Some of you may recall a blurb in my last Simon/April angstfest fic about how one day April was sick and refused to go home and Sam, well, made her. At the time I didn't think I could make a whole fic out of it, and I was content to let it be a passing snippet. Apparently, I was wrong. At the encouragement of my darling braintwin, I managed to turn it into what I think is one of the biggest piles of fluff I have ever written. I know, I know. There's virtually no angst and absolutely no smut here. (There is one teeny tiny bit of UST though.) Yeah, I don't know what's wrong with me either. XD
April Newcastle was sick.
She should have known something was wrong when she woke up that morning with a splitting headache, as if the previous three days of intermittent coughing fits and random sneezes weren't obvious enough. Still, she pushes herself out of bed and shuffles to the bathroom. Her shoulder hits the doorframe hard as she fights a wave of dizziness, and she grabs at her arm, rubbing the spot she knows will have a large purple bruise later.
After swallowing two aspirin, she leans against the vanity, staring at her reflection, and frowns at the dark circles and paleness of her complexion. The thought that maybe this isn't just a cold and that maybe she should stay home for once enters her mind, only to be brushed aside as she turns on the shower. The water is deliciously warm, again raising the idea that she could just stay here all day, basking in the steamy comfort. She takes a deep breath, the heat relaxing and opening her nasal passages, quieting the rasp in her lungs. Then she pushes the thought away. She hasn't missed a day of work since she started working for Harrison, and she isn't about to let a little thing like a cold stop her.
"April?" Nathan whispers, gently nudging her arm.
She startles and turns to look at him, her eyes wide. "What?"
"Would you like to review the talking points for the morning briefing?" he asks. The corner of his mouth curls in amusement, watching as she looks around the conference table and sees several pairs of eyes all fixed on her.
She runs a hand through her hair and shakes her head, smiling awkwardly. A few shuffles of paper later, she's running down the list, but she knows that her mind isn't focused as it should be.
Several more times Nathan catches her staring off into space, once in the Cabinet meeting and twice during the budget review before lunch. She goes into a coughing fit in the hallway and her pockets are overflowing with wads of Kleenex. He catches her arm as she exits Harrison's office, slowing her pace so he can walk beside her.
"Are you feeling okay?" he asks, dipping his head to try to get a good look at her face. He knows she's been fighting a cold the last few days, but this seems like something more serious. She looks drained and lifeless, more like a zombie than April, and it's not like her to be so distracted or to not pay attention in meetings.
She looks up at Nathan and smiles. "I'm fine. It's just this damn cold. It won't leave me alone."
He frowns, not quite believing her or the dark circles under her eyes. "Maybe you should take the rest of the day off?"
"No!" she replies quickly, and he looks at her with raised eyebrows. "I - I'm fine, Nathan, really. I've just - I've got a lot of work to do, so I'll see you later."
She hurries off down the hall, leaving Nathan to stand there with his hands on his hips, shaking his head.
Simon comes to find her for lunch, stopping inside the door to her office, leaning to side and just watching her for a moment. He looks at her with concern, noticing how she's just staring at her monitor, hand resting on the mouse but not moving, and her eyes sort of glazed over. He clears his throat and she doesn't budge, doesn't even blink.
"April?" he says gently, moving to stand in front of her desk.
She shakes her head and blinks rapidly, looking up at him with surprise. "Simon," she replies, dabbing at her nose with a tissue, "what are you doing here?"
His brow knits and he glances at his watch. "Um, it's almost noon. I thought -"
"Oh!" she exclaims. "Lunch, right, I guess I just - I guess I got distracted by work, sorry."
He moves around behind her desk, leaning against the edge so he can see her face without her computer screen in the way. He knew she wasn't feeling well last night, which is why he decided to head home early and let her get some rest, but it seems she's gotten worse overnight. Reaching out a hand, he sweeps a lock of hair off her forehead and with just that light touch he can feel how warm she is.
"Hey," he says, brushing the back of his hand over her forehead, "sweetheart, it feels like you have a fever, maybe you should take the afternoon off?"
April huffs and bats his hand away, pushing her chair back from the desk. "Why does no one believe me when I say I'm fine?"
Because you're not, he thinks, but keeps it to himself. He follows her as she strides around the desk and heads for the door.
"I have a cold, and a bit of a headache, but honestly, I'm fine," she insists. She turns in the doorway with her arms folded over her chest. "So can we just go to lunch now?"
"Yeah," he says, slipping his hands in his pockets. He knows it's pointless to argue with her when she's being this stubborn, so he just trails behind her to the cafeteria.
She picks at her food and catches herself wincing more than once at the harsh florescent lighting and the way it makes her head throb. Part of her really wants nothing more than to curl up in bed, but all she can think about is the mountain of work to be done and how the whole place seems to fall apart if she's gone for too long.
Simon walks her back to her office but she barely remembers it, only registering that she's back when he kisses her on the forehead and pushes one more time for her to go home. She promises herself that she will leave a little early, or maybe just on time, but when she sees ten new emails and four missed calls she sighs and knows it's a lie.
Sam pauses outside the door to his office, turning to see Nathan and Simon coming down the corridor in close conversation. Nathan nods to him as they pass and he just catches Simon saying something about April still working.
"She's still here?" he asks, his voice a combination of annoyance and disbelief. Just about everyone has suggested she take the day off, go home, and get some rest, so he really shouldn't be surprised that she didn't. It's exactly what he expects of her. Her work ethic is second to none, save maybe his, which means they've both been in the elevator riding down to the garage together, long after everyone else has gone.
Nathan and Simon stop and simultaneously spin around to see Sam frowning. The two men look at each other with raised eyebrows and something unspoken passes between them before they look back to Sam.
"Yeah, she is," Simon replies carefully.
Sam nods and shakes his head. "Well not for long she's not."
As he turns and strides down the hall towards the elevator, Nathan calls out, "You know how stubborn she can be."
Sam raises a hand in acknowledgement and then pushes the button for the lift. "Oh I know," he mutters.
April stares at the page of notes in front of her, unable to make heads or tails of what she's written. Sighing, she folds her arms and lets her head drop, blocking out the harsh office light. She thinks she's just going to rest her eyes for minute, shifting her head a little to be more comfortable.
Sam takes two steps into April's office and then stops abruptly, the corner of his mouth twitching as he fights the urge to smile. He folds his arms over his chest and tilts his head, watching the steady rise and fall of her body as she sleeps. Her head is resting on her forearms, blonde hair spilling over notes and post-its and pens. She shifts and turns her face to the side, cheek pressing against her wrist.
He chuckles softly and walks up to the front of her desk, leaning over her cautiously. "April?" he says softly, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder and then stops, hovering just over the silk of her blouse. She moves a little and exhales, but doesn't wake up. A lock of hair flops over her face and his hand curls into a fist to keep from catching it between his fingers and lifting it away.
"April," he says again, a little louder than before, and she finally stirs.
April lifts her head up and blinks, looking around her office for the source of the voice. She jumps when her eyes find Sam staring down at her bemusedly. A second later she straightens and sits back in her chair, coughing into her hand.
"Oh, S-Sam," she stutters, and then wiping her nose with a tissue. "I was uh, just um - just going over the notes from the uh -"
He laughs lightly. "The staff meeting?"
"What?" She frowns, blinks and then immediately recovers. "Yeah, right, staff meeting." She starts shuffling papers on her desk, trying to look like she didn't just get caught sleeping on her desk in the middle of the day.
He smirks. "April." She looks up and smiles, but it's tight and forced, and his face falls. "You're sick."
"Don't you start too," she says, holding up a hand. "It's just a cold. I'm -"
Sam's right eyebrow curves up and he stares down his nose at her, watching as her speech halts and her mouth slowly closes. She sits back in her chair, arms folded across her chest in defiance. They eye each other for a short while over the span of her desk, until Sam finally sighs and she smirks in satisfaction, picking up her purse to fetch another Kleenex for her already sore nose.
Sam strides around the side of her desk and takes hold of her chair, turning it to the side. April looks back at him, confused, her eyes going wide as he starts pushing. She grips the arm of the chair in one hand and her purse in the other as he maneuvers it from behind her desk and towards the door of her office.
"Sam!" she exclaims, tipping her head up to look at him. He looks back down at her and smiles. "What are you doing?"
He gives the chair another shove forward, pushing it through the doorway. "I'm doing what you should have done hours ago." Then he wheels a shocked and sneezing April past an equally stunned Laurie, who pauses with her coffee mug halfway to her mouth to stare.
Sam waves casually to Laurie, as if he can be found moving around office furniture with staff in it every other day, before he eases the chair out of the Press Office door and into the hallway. April puts her feet down and tries to dig in, but her heels slip on the tile floor. He keeps right on moving until they are in front of the elevator.
As if on cue the doors open and he gives the chair one last shove, pushing it onto the lift. He reaches around and pushes the button for the parking garage level, then leans against the wall. April squeals as she slides towards the back wall of the elevator, stops and spins around. She moves to get up, but the doors are already closing. The last thing she hears as she reaches futilely for the open door button is Sam ordering her, in a rather stern voice, to go home.
She leans against the cool wall of the elevator and closes her eyes. Her headache is back, her throat is raw from coughing and the Vice President just caught her sleeping at her desk. She supposes this is as low as it gets. The elevator dings and the doors open to the parking garage as she pulls her car keys out of her purse.
Sam nods to Laurie as he wheels the empty office chair back into April's office. She raises a perfectly arched eyebrow at him as he passes, and then turns back to the file in front of her. He takes a few minutes to turn off April's computer and flip off the lights before he heads back up to his own office.
An hour later, Simon peeks in the door and asks if he has seen April. Smiling, Sam replies, "I sent her home."
A sharp noise wakes April from her drug induced nap. She lifts her head off the pillow, frowns and looks around her darkened bedroom for the source of the offending noise. She hears the noise again and finally recognizes it as a knock. She sighs, letting her head flop back down, and rolls over on her back to stare at the ceiling.
It's probably Simon, she thinks, coming over to see how she is since, thanks to Sam, she didn't exactly get to tell anyone she was leaving. She climbs out of bed and shuffles into the living room where her visitor seems to have ceased knocking. Rising up on her toes, she peers through the peephole and startles when she sees Nathan standing in her hallway.
"Hi," she says, pulling the door open just enough to poke her head out. "What um -?"
"Hey," Nathan replies softly, concern evident in his voice. "Harrison's heading to London tonight, you know, and one of the agents had a family emergency, so Simon's going in his place."
"To London?" she exclaims, practically flinging the door open as her hands snap to her hips and she stares at Nathan incredulously.
"No, no, not to London," Nathan explains, raising his hands to calm her. "Just to Andrews, but since he'll be working late, I thought I'd come over and make sure you were all right." April relaxes and smiles, leaning against the door frame. "So, are you all right?"
She sighs and wipes at her sore nose. "Yeah, I'm a little better."
Nathan smiles and leans close. "So can I come in then or are we going to talk in the hallway all evening?"
"Sorry," she says, stepping aside so he can come in. He's been in her apartment several times, but never without Simon, and it feels odd for him to be here alone.
It isn't until she's about to shut and lock the door that she realizes the two agents accompanying Nathan are carrying things. She moves back and they enter her apartment, hastily setting a couple of bags and what looks like a casserole dish on her dining room table. One of them gives her an awkward smile and a shrug on his way out.
April looks around for Nathan and finds him in the kitchen, peeking in her cupboards.
"So what's all this, then?" she asks.
He smiles and slips past her to collect the items off the table. "I brought dinner," he replies simply, as if that's all the explanation she needs.
She just shakes her head and settles against the counter to watch him. "I'm sorry I was such a zombie this morning."
He tsks as he sets the temperature on the oven and removes the foil from the casserole dish. "You've got nothing to be sorry about. If you're sick, you're sick. There's no shame in taking a day off you know."
April sighs again. "I know, but there's just so much to do. And I feel like -"
"April," Nathan interrupts, turning to face her. "There's always going to be so much to do. But if you don't take care of yourself, you won't get any of it done." Then he leans forward and kisses her forehead lightly.
He pulls back, frowning. "You feel hot." He presses the back of his hand to her forehead, and then shakes his head. "You still have a fever. Take some more aspirin and go lay down." Then he turns back to his dinner preparations.
She rolls her eyes and pushes off the counter, muttering, "Thanks, Dad."
As soon as the words leave her mouth he freezes, wondering if he heard what he thinks he just heard. She probably didn't mean it, but the thought that she would - that she might - think of him as a father, is the strangest feeling. His stomach flips as a slow warming creeps over him and somewhere in the back of his mind comes the notion that he already loves her like a daughter.
April gasps quietly and clamps a hand over her mouth. She watches as Nathan stops working and just stands there. A single word hangs between them and it hits her how easy it was to say, how it rolled off her tongue naturally. She's known him for over four years, and his son for almost three, and somehow in that time he's come to be the closest thing to a real father she's ever had.
"S-sorry," she stutters, running a hand through her hair. "I was just -"
He turns around and gives her a small smile. "No, it's - it's fine." She bites her lip in that nervous way he's come to find so endearing and he shakes his head. "Really. It's fine."
The corner of her mouth curves slightly and she nods, moving towards the kitchen door. "I'm just gonna go find that aspirin."
Later, they are settled on the couch watching the evening news when the timer on the oven rings out. Nathan pops up out of his seat and hurries to retrieve dinner, setting it on a trivet as he busies himself with fetching plates and silverware. April stretches and wanders to the bedroom to change out of her pajamas. As she passes by the bedroom window she pauses and watches as four black SUVs pull up to the curb. The doors open on two of them and several dark suited men she knows immediately as Secret Service exit and begin surveying the area. She tugs on a clean t-shirt and her most comfortable pair of jeans and strides quickly into the living room just as the knocking begins.
Nathan sets the last plate on the table and makes it to the door before April. He makes a quick check through the peephole and smirks as he pulls the door open.
April's mouth drops open. "Sam?"
Sam smiles as he steps into the apartment, starting to shrug off his overcoat. "Hello," he replies. "Feeling better?"
"I - um," she starts, running a hand through her hair and looking around in dismay at the cluttered state of her apartment. "Yeah, I'm uh - I'm fine. I told you I didn't need to go home."
Sam frowns and opens his mouth to reply, but Nathan interrupts. "Yes, you're completely fine, that's why you have a fever, a nose that won't stop running and a poor disposition."
"I do not have a poor disposition," she objects, pouting at Nathan.
Nathan ignores her response and turns to Sam, taking his coat and placing it on the rack by the door. "I'm glad you're here, Sam, we have a serious problem."
"Oh?" Sam remarks.
"Well," Nathan begins, "I've been here for the better part of an hour and she hasn't laughed at any of my jokes or smiled once."
Sam glances at April who gives Nathan a tired look. "Oh dear. That is quite the problem."
Nathan hums in agreement and heads for the kitchen. "I even made Shepard's Pie."
"Oh well that explains it," Sam says, following after Nathan with his hands in his pockets. Nathan stops in the doorway of the kitchen and gives him a look. "She's eating your cooking, who can smile at that?"
April smiles slightly and swipes a tissue across her nose.
"Oh shut up," Nathan snaps, stepping into the kitchen. "You love my cooking, old man."
Sam chuckles. "Old? Well, that's the pot calling the ket -"
"Why am I always the pot?" Nathan's head peeks around the corner into the dining room.
Sam looks at him oddly. "What?" Then he shakes his head and says, "Because that's the way the expression goes, the pot calls the kettle - that's the way it is."
Nathan's voice calls out from the kitchen. "Says who?"
Sam sighs in exasperation, knowing that Nathan is just being a smart ass for the sake of being a smart ass. "Says hundreds of years of the English language. Now where is this alleged dinner you said you made?"
Nathan steps out of the kitchen, a casserole dish held between two pot holders. "See," he says, looking at April, "he loves my cooking."
April smiles a little more and shakes her head. "You two bicker like you're married."
The two men look at each other with raised eyebrows. Then Nathan turns his head towards April. "He should be so lucky."
"You're not my type," Sam says with a smirk.
Nathan nods and goes back into the kitchen to bring out another place setting for Sam. "True."
April finally smiles. "Female?"
Nathan sets a plate down and grins. "No," he replies. "Blonde."
He looks knowingly at Sam, smirks, and then heads back into the kitchen. April throws her head back, laughing, then almost immediately starts sneezing. Nathan bites back a laugh as Sam blushes furiously, ducking his head as he slips off his suit jacket and drapes it over a chair. When he finally looks up, he sees April has gone back into the living room.
He follows her, eyes scanning the space thoughtfully. There are a few pictures lining the top of a short, but well stocked bookshelf, including one of her and Simon and Nathan from Harrison's birthday party, and another of her and Penny. There's also one of him from the last formal state dinner, trussed up in a tuxedo, which he finds a bit surprising, though it's clear from the angle that she took it rather surreptitiously. He glances at the spines of a few well worn books, smiling when he sees several that are in his own expansive collection.
April scurries around the room, picking up papers and wishing she had spent her time home cleaning instead of sleeping, or that she had some idea that she'd be having company. Sam has been to her apartment on one other occasion but never made it past the hallway. Having him here, actually in her living space makes her nervous, though she isn't sure why. They aren't exactly strangers, were even stuck in an elevator once for three hours in formal attire, but this is somehow more intimate and personal than anything they've experienced so far.
Sam catches her arm as she turns with a hand full of magazines. "What are you doing?"
"Well I didn't realize I'd be having company -," she pauses to toss a look in Nathan's direction, and then continues, "and this place is a complete disaster." Then she shrugs off Sam's arm and sets the magazines neatly on the coffee table.
"April," Sam says with a smile, "it's fine."
She sighs. "No, it's not. I can't believe the first time you've seen my home it's this atrocious."
"I've seen your office," he says pointedly.
She stops in the middle of straightening the lamp on the side table and shakes her head, her lips curving slightly. "Point taken."
She turns and suddenly the room does too, spinning around her and blurring while she feels like she's standing perfectly still. Her head throbs for a second and she pitches forward, the carpet and the corner of the coffee table zooming towards her at an alarming rate. Then, just as suddenly, a pair of firm hands catch her arms and she falls against something softer and warmer, though no less solid. She blinks and looks up to find Sam staring down at her, concern written across his face.
"All right?" he asks. She braces herself on his chest as she finds her footing again, but he doesn't let go right away. "April?"
"Yeah," she says, taking a few deep breaths to calm her pounding heart. She realizes that his heart is also beating rather fast under her palm, and she steps back. His hands slide from her arms and she misses their warmth almost immediately, shivering a little.
He dips his head to see her face, still unconvinced there's nothing wrong. "Are you sure?"
"I'm fine, Sam," she replies, smiling slightly. "I just got a bit dizzy."
He nods. "I'm guessing that's because you haven't eaten properly today."
She looks a bit sheepish and just opens her mouth to speak when Nathan interrupts. "Are you two going to come eat or did I go to all this trouble for nothing?"
April glances at Sam as they walk towards the table where Nathan is standing. "Do you think we should?"
Sam pulls out a chair for her to sit and replies, "Let's wait until he takes a bite first, just to be safe."
Nathan sits and shoves a large forkful into his mouth, glaring at Sam.
Sam slips his overcoat on, flipping the collar out and straightening it so it lies properly. "Thank you both for a lovely dinner."
Nathan smiles at his friend. "Anytime."
Beside Nathan, April stands looking tired but happy. She steps forward to open the door for Sam, holding back a grin at the plethora of agents lining the corridor. She wonders if her landlord would have rented her the place if he knew at the time where she worked and what she did for a living. On the upside, the tenants had probably never felt safer.
Sam moves towards the door, stopping just inside and smiling down at April. There's a lock of hair that's sprung loose from her ponytail and he lifts a hand partway, intending to brush it aside before he catches himself. She dips her head and tucks the offending hair behind her ear, as if she knew what he was thinking.
Looking up, she tilts her head slightly and smiles. "Goodnight, Sam."
"Goodnight," he replies. Then he nods to Nathan and strides down the hallway, the agents falling into step around him.
April pushes the door shut and flips the lock, turning to lean against it. She yawns and sniffs, then looks to Nathan.
"Tired?" he asks, knowing full well that she is just by looking at her.
"No," she replies, stepping away from the door and moving into the living room. She stifles another yawn and flops on the couch.
"You really should get some rest," Nathan says, following her. He sits down at the opposite end of the couch, still slightly unsure of how she's feeling. He kept catching her looking in his direction during dinner, as if she wanted to say something about her earlier slip, but didn't because Sam was there. The thought that she might want to take it back makes his heart ache.
April sighs and flips on the TV, which is still tuned to the twenty four hour news channel. She glances at Nathan but his gaze is fixed on the screen and unreadable. She hopes that he isn't mad over what she said earlier. He knows bits and pieces about her family, things she told him over dinner before Simon was in the picture, and things she knows Simon has told him. Calling him 'Dad' was an unconscious act, but she still can't shake the feeling that a part of her really meant it in a way she never has before, and that she wants to say it again.
A few minutes later, April gets up and goes into the bedroom. She strips off her jeans and puts her pajama pants back on, pulling the elastic from her hair and shaking it out. When she comes back into the living room she sees Nathan bent over with his elbows propped on his knees and his head resting in his hands.
"I'm sorry," she says softly. His head lifts up and he gives her a confused look. "About what I said earlier." She sits down next to him, closer than before, but keeps her eyes on her hands folded in her lap.
"I don't want to say I didn't mean it, I just -" She takes a deep breath and when she looks him in the eye he seems almost sad. It hits her then that he's been thinking the same thing she has, and she smiles a little.
He sighs and sits back, putting an arm around her and pulling her against his side. She curls into him, pulling her feet up and folding her legs under.
After a moment, he kisses her temple lightly and says, "It's okay."
She smiles and leans into him, knowing that if there was ever a man she was going to call 'dad' and mean it, it would be Nathan Gates.
A few minutes later, Nathan glances at April and smiles when he sees her sound asleep. Eventually, he loses the fight with sleep too, and his head drops to the side, cheek resting against the top of her head, pushing his glasses askew.
Hours later, there's a knock at the door. Nathan lifts his head and looks around, blinking. He sets his glasses right and runs a hand through his hair. He looks at April, finding her still asleep, head resting on his shoulder. His arm is pinned by her body pressing into his side, and her arm is wrapped around his torso like he's her own personal teddy bear.
Sighing, he attempts to shift her off of him, but the arm across his middle tightens. He tries once more, nearly succeeding, until she hums contentedly and shifts, somehow burrowing her face further into the space between his shoulder and his neck.
He fights a smile and mutters, "Clingy little thing."
The visitor knocks yet again, this time louder, and he frowns. It's not that his arm has gone a bit tingly from being trapped between the couch and her slender form, because she's really barely any weight at all. It's not that he isn't pleased that she feels comfortable enough to treat him like a pillow. He's actually quite enamored with the idea, almost as much as he is with the idea of her thinking of him like a father. It's just that she looks so peaceful with her cheek a little smushed by his shoulder, and her lips ever so slightly curved into an almost smile, that he really wants to answer the door before the knocking wakes her up.
Then just as he's managed to loosen April's grip, she sits up.
She yawns and then stares in confusion at Nathan. "What -?" There is another knock and she turns towards the door. "Oh."
Nathan stands and goes to open the door as April tries to tame her hair and rub the sleep from her eyes. He pulls it open and finds Simon staring back at him.
Simon tilts his head to the side, looking around Nathan at the sleepy April padding softly across the carpet. His eyes go wide as he looks from April to Nathan and back, surprised to see his girlfriend and his father looking like they both just crawled out of bed. He smirks.
Nathan rubs the back of his neck and says, "This isn't what it looks like. I -"
Simon laughs softly and shakes his head. "It looks like she fell asleep on you and it took you a while to extract yourself from her patented sleep hold."
"Then it's exactly what it looks like," Nathan replies, grinning, as Simon steps inside and walks over to April.
"Feeling better?" Simon asks, brushing her hair back.
"Yeah," she says. Then she yawns and wraps her arms around Simon. "Your dad's an excellent nurse."
Simon smiles at his dad and hugs her back, kissing the top of her head. "Oh?"
Nathan shrugs. "I just brought over dinner, that's all."
Simon's eyes light up and his eyes dart from Nathan to the kitchen and back. "Is there any left?"
April laughs. "It's in the fridge."
Simon kisses her forehead and then heads for the kitchen, pulling off his suit jacket as he goes.
Nathan shakes his head, and turns to April. "I should get going."
"Yeah." She yawns again and shuffles over to Nathan. He spreads his arms and she hugs him tight. "Thanks for taking care of me."
"Anytime," he answers, squeezing her back. "And if I see you at work tomorrow, I'll send Sam down to your office again."
April laughs and pulls back, but doesn't let go. "Is that an order?"
"If I have to draft up the paperwork myself and have Harrison sign it, I will." He gives her a look and she sighs in acquiescence. He plants a quick kiss to her forehead and gives her another hug.
"Fine," she mutters into his shirt. "And I am not clingy."
Nathan laughs and then calls out a goodnight to his son before he leaves. April is just settling back on the couch when Simon wanders into the room, carrying a plate of leftovers.
"So," he says around a mouth full of food, "I heard from Laurie that all it took was Sam telling you to go home?"
April rolls her eyes and yawns. "Something like that."
She proceeds to tell him the entire story, from the way she spaced out in meetings to falling asleep at her desk. When she gets to the part where Sam is wheeling her down the hallway in her chair, Simon sputters and nearly loses a forkful of potato.
She starts to laugh, but yawns instead and Simon realizes how late it is. "You should get to bed."
"So should you," she replies, smiling and leaning against his shoulder, her face turned up to look at him.
"I know I'm probably not as good at being a pillow as my dad, but -" He trails off and she swats at his arm, grinning and pushing to her feet. He takes her hands in his, kissing the back of each one before looking up at her sleepy smile. "You want me to stay?"
She nods and tugs him to his feet and then lets her hands drop, moving into the bedroom. He takes the plate to the kitchen, setting it in the sink before following her. She's already under the covers when he enters, stripping off his shirt and pants on his way around to his designated side of the bed. He slips in beside her and she curls against him automatically, resting her head against his chest and wrapping an arm around his midsection.
"Clingy little thing," he whispers, smiling and kissing the top of her head.
She makes a vague grumbling sound and kicks half heartedly at his shin. He chuckles and lets his eyes fall closed as she hooks her leg over his and gives him a squeeze.
On Monday morning, a clear headed and well rested April strides into the conference room and slides into her usual chair. She looks around the room and notices that there are only four other staff present, noticeably less than the usual fifteen that attend. Harrison enters a moment later, followed by Sam, who smiles at her as he takes the chair to her left.
"Where is everyone?" she whispers, as Harrison starts going through the agenda.
Sam leans close to her, his mouth curving into a slight grin. "Well," he replies, "it seems Nathan, and several other staff, have come down with something."
April snorts and covers her mouth with a hand to stifle her laughter, which earns her a sideways look from Harrison. She smiles at him and he continues as if nothing happened.
"And what?" she asks quietly, sitting forward a little. "They just stayed home?"
Sam sighs. "That is what one should do when one is feeling ill, Miss Newcastle." She rolls her eyes at him and he arches an eyebrow. "Unless, of course, one is unusually stubborn. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
She smirks at him and says, "Nope. Nothing at all."