CSI:NY, Mac/Claire, "Sick Opera"
Title: Sick Opera
Fandom: CSI:NY
Characters: Mac Taylor/Claire Taylor
Prompt: Table 2, 25. Flu
Word Count: ~600
Rating: G
Summary: To celebrate her promotion, Claire plans on going to the opera, until she and Mac get the flu.
Mac was half-way through fixing his tuxedo when he started sneezing. He sneezed three times, when coughed once. For the entire day, some bug had been annoying him, and there couldn't have been a worse time. Claire expected him to go to the opera with her as a celebration of her promotion.
"Sick?" she asked, walking in from the bathroom. Mac nodded and looked at her black dress. It looked beautiful on her, form-fitting and silky. "Yeah. I just started feeling it today." She sniffed. It took Mac a minute to notice that, under the light layer of makeup, she looked strangely pale and her nose was red.
"You think you can stand tonight?" he asked her, reading to get dressed in sweatpants if she said no. However, Claire shook her head.
"I've been waiting ages to see this, and I'm not letting a cold get me down." She started to walk back to the bathroom when Mac noticed how much she was wobbling in her heels. He had seen her wear them at least five times, and she had never wavered on them before.
"I don't think you should be going," Mac told her, taking her by the shoulders and sitting her on the bed. "Let me get the thermometer…"
"Better use one yourself!" Claire called after him as he looked through the bathroom drawers until he found it. He returned and stuck it in her mouth before she could say another word.
"I said -" she started, but Mac cut her off with, "Thirty seconds, Claire."
Claire crossed her arms and stared up at him, making significant looks towards her watch. Finally, smiling, Mac pulled the thermometer out of her mouth. "About a hundred, Claire," he told her, waving it in front of her face. The numbers read 100.8.
"No opera tonight," Mac told her. "You're too sick."
"Oh, like you aren't?" Claire asked.
Mac rolled his eyes and stuck the thermometer into his mouth.
"And if you weren't sick, you are now!" Claire told him, laughing. Mac furrowed his brow at her, trying to look offended, but he had to smile, too. He knew that the two of them had been compared to little kids often, trying to outdo each other in small battles.
Mac finally took out the thermometer which read 101.4. "See?" he said to her. "I'm even more sick than you. Let's just skip for tonight."
Claire looked at him, looking miserable. "Maaac, I've waited months for this!"
Seeing how depressed she looked, ill in her new dress, Mac sat next to her and gave her a one-armed hug. She squeezed out of it, messing up her hair.
"Look," Mac said, "I'll get you some cookie dough ice cream, we'll watch that movie - Distant Shadow - that you wanted to see, and then we'll spend the night nice and cozy here." When Claire still looked depressed, Mac added, "Better than vomiting on your favorite singer."
Claire smiled at him. "Alright. But the next opera - we're going."
Mac pulled some blankets off the bed, set them on the couch, put in the movie, and took out the ice cream container with two spoons. In his mind, he thought Lucky for that. I hate the opera.
Fandom: CSI:NY
Characters: Mac Taylor/Claire Taylor
Prompt: Table 2, 25. Flu
Word Count: ~600
Rating: G
Summary: To celebrate her promotion, Claire plans on going to the opera, until she and Mac get the flu.
Mac was half-way through fixing his tuxedo when he started sneezing. He sneezed three times, when coughed once. For the entire day, some bug had been annoying him, and there couldn't have been a worse time. Claire expected him to go to the opera with her as a celebration of her promotion.
"Sick?" she asked, walking in from the bathroom. Mac nodded and looked at her black dress. It looked beautiful on her, form-fitting and silky. "Yeah. I just started feeling it today." She sniffed. It took Mac a minute to notice that, under the light layer of makeup, she looked strangely pale and her nose was red.
"You think you can stand tonight?" he asked her, reading to get dressed in sweatpants if she said no. However, Claire shook her head.
"I've been waiting ages to see this, and I'm not letting a cold get me down." She started to walk back to the bathroom when Mac noticed how much she was wobbling in her heels. He had seen her wear them at least five times, and she had never wavered on them before.
"I don't think you should be going," Mac told her, taking her by the shoulders and sitting her on the bed. "Let me get the thermometer…"
"Better use one yourself!" Claire called after him as he looked through the bathroom drawers until he found it. He returned and stuck it in her mouth before she could say another word.
"I said -" she started, but Mac cut her off with, "Thirty seconds, Claire."
Claire crossed her arms and stared up at him, making significant looks towards her watch. Finally, smiling, Mac pulled the thermometer out of her mouth. "About a hundred, Claire," he told her, waving it in front of her face. The numbers read 100.8.
"No opera tonight," Mac told her. "You're too sick."
"Oh, like you aren't?" Claire asked.
Mac rolled his eyes and stuck the thermometer into his mouth.
"And if you weren't sick, you are now!" Claire told him, laughing. Mac furrowed his brow at her, trying to look offended, but he had to smile, too. He knew that the two of them had been compared to little kids often, trying to outdo each other in small battles.
Mac finally took out the thermometer which read 101.4. "See?" he said to her. "I'm even more sick than you. Let's just skip for tonight."
Claire looked at him, looking miserable. "Maaac, I've waited months for this!"
Seeing how depressed she looked, ill in her new dress, Mac sat next to her and gave her a one-armed hug. She squeezed out of it, messing up her hair.
"Look," Mac said, "I'll get you some cookie dough ice cream, we'll watch that movie - Distant Shadow - that you wanted to see, and then we'll spend the night nice and cozy here." When Claire still looked depressed, Mac added, "Better than vomiting on your favorite singer."
Claire smiled at him. "Alright. But the next opera - we're going."
Mac pulled some blankets off the bed, set them on the couch, put in the movie, and took out the ice cream container with two spoons. In his mind, he thought Lucky for that. I hate the opera.