Name of the story: Lassa or Dengue?
Pairing: Alexandra Eames/Robert Goren
Word count: 2534
Raiting and warnings: T
Description: Missing scene of Gemini
A/N: For the October Challenge of the LJ: ci_fans_united community: picture prompt.
Sequel of my story: Virus Alarm.
Disclaimer: I earn no money from this thing, nor do I profit in any other way from it. Involved persons are only borrowed and always go back to their owner.
Inspired by the words of my friend Suzanne: ...and the sauna thing. And the screaming dash into the cold ocean. Now it's time for a hot tub. Water and heat is your "thing"!!
Lassa or Dengue?
My eyes fell on her just a split second, before I concentrated again on my ‘client’. She looked so different. Pink was trump: a narrow top with an open cardigan, a long white and pink skirt, glasses and pearls. Yes, my partner wore real pearls in two lines. The whole ensemble, I knew she was pregnant, but in that moment it really made doink in my head.
She talked just a few moments with Brent Anderson.
“Oh, you’re a scientist.” I couldn’t suppress my smirking but pulled my weapon. Jeffries, I and a third colleague fixed that perp on the table, while Eames allowed room between the killer and her soft swollen baby belly.
“You’re under arrest Brent.”
Outside, we sat him in a police cruiser. I sneezed, two times and felt a beginning headache.
Alex drove back to OnePP. Of course she drove. She always drove. Even during her pregnancy she didn’t let me behind the wheel. I closed my eyes to concentrate for the coming interrogation with
There we had gotten the note that two gram of Dr. Stern’s anthrax was missing. Had been more of his plastic bottles and pipes with the 267 viruses not save? Maybe one other had been open. I sneezed again and sweet built on my forehead.
I peeked toward Eames, but she looked okay - healthy.
I swallowed and it hurt - sore throat. Dear, what was going on with me?
The symptoms of lassa fever (Baltimore Group V) were: high fever, headache, sore throat and body arches. Oh, jeez!
Gastric diseases, vomiting and looseness…phu, that part is still missing, good.
Swellings in face and neck. I touched my forehead, checks, and my throat…nothing, everything as usual.
In the interrogation, I played with Brent – cosmetic surgery in the womb. Oh that guy wanted to say something. It lay on his tongue and wanted out. But his lawyer could prevent it. He had much trouble, but he prevented it. The lawyer ended the interview. He wanted to talk alone with his client, so Eames and I left the room.
Alex walked to our desks and I wandered into the dark observation room. I wanted to assimilate Brent’s body language. I opened the blind to watch.
A shivering hit my whole body and I felt exhausted.
I closed my eyes. Had been one of the pipes open? Had been my gloves contaminated? Had I touched my face after the removing of the gloves?
The symptoms of dengue fever (Baltimore Group IV) were: muscle pain, ague, headache and arthralgia. Lord, what was going on with me?
A very deep pulse. I searched with my fingers the point on the wrist, but my heart beat too heavy in my fingertips. I could only feel that.
I licked my lips, tasted my mouth…nothing. No metallic and bitter savor…good. And I also had no skin rash, not on the visible places of my body. I rushed into the lavatory, passed an astonished Eames to check the rest of my skin.
The two Visionstyle bosses weren’t cooperative. They won’t help us. Mr. Carver tried his best to persuade them, but they didn’t admit to get the Marilyn letter. The A.D.A. needed someone who testified the opening of the envelop, otherwise the letter was no evidence.
The moment the blue contact lenses manufacturers left Carvers office, Eames called. I should meet her
I jumped in the next yellow cab I could get and drove the half mile from
I glowed. Was I mad or had I temperature? Also my whole back itched. But as I had checked it in the mirror of the men’s locker room of the Major Case there had been no skin rash.
The symptoms of
Eames awaited me before Eyeporium. The victim lay in front of his shop door. He had been hit from behind in his head with two 9 mm bullets.
Alex pointed me to two Visionstyle advertisements in the showcase of the optician. She was right, the modus operandi complied not to one hundred per cent, but the attack laid within the tolerance zone.
“Twisted tangle of brotherly love.” I shook my head. Did Spencer shoot that innocent man to disburden Brent? What was going on in that head?
Alex and I inspected the scene of crime another thirty minutes. We talked with the woman who found the dead man, the first officer on location and with the medical examiner. After the body was removed, Eames and I got into the SUV. It was a damn long day and we would call it a night without to drive back to
Alex offered to drop me off at my place. I agreed thankfully because in the car my head started again to explode, I had muscle pains and sore throat. As I groaned deeply, she looked at me and saw how I rubbed my face strongly.
“I feel so sick,” I coughed.
Alex drove on the sidewalk and I could see her anxious face. She turned over to me and took my hands. Deeply she looked into my eyes.
“You sneezed and coughed the whole day, Bobby,” Alex said, and then laid her hand on my forehand. “Uh, and you glow.” She checked it with her own forehead.
“Please Alex, don’t come that close. I don’t want to infect you…”
“Don’t worry. Because of the pregnancy, I got the flu shots this year.”
“B…but, when it’s not the flu?” I said sheepishly.
“What else should it be?” she asked puzzled.
“I…I have fever, headache, sore throat, body arches and muscle pains…” I listed.
“It’s a common cold or perhaps flu.”
“Maybe, but what if…if one of these pipes, Stern’s pipes…these virus tubes were open?”
Alex shook her head. “No.”
“All these are symptoms of lassa fever…”
Alex burst out laughing.
“…and dengue fever.” I claimed.
“But there were the missing two gram of anthrax, Alex. What if some of the other pipes were open and I got infected?”
“Bobby, it’s just a normal flu, believe me. Don’t think of Zebras when you hear pattering,” Alex laughed even more. But then she continued seriously, “In both cases, lassa and dengue, the germs must reach your blood, Bobby.”
“And you wore gloves. Even if you had an open wound – and the HazMat-team checked our both bodies systematically, really systematically. They scrubbed us from tip to toe. Dear, I could smell the disinfection tincture even two days later. You are not infected with one of Stern’s zoonotic viruses.”
I licked my chapped lips and coughed again.
“Okay, what do you think of a hot eucalyptus bath?”
“But I’ve just a shower, Eames, you know that.”
“Yes, I know, but I installed in my house a new big tub last month. It’s so big that you can call it a Jacuzzi. It’s phenomenal. Since I have it, I used it three times a week.”
“Uh-huh?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Come at home with me and just sit down in the hot water and enjoy it.”
“It’s a tempting offer, Alex.” I closed my eyes and leant back in the seat. I could feel that Alex pulled out into traffic again. The driving car was very lulling.
“Use it an hour and you’ll see that you will feel much better. I can make you a chicken broth in that time. Tomorrow is Friday.” She checked her watch. “No, Friday is still today and when we manage to pass it, you can recover the whole week end.”
I nodded slightly and as I opened my eyes again we were in Rockaway. I must have fallen asleep. Alex took my simple reply as a strong consent.
I sank deeper and deeper in the hot water. Steam replaced the air and bubbles levitated through the bathroom. I could sprawl in that little basin, only my nose peeked through the water surface – what a luxury. I felt cocooned and save. I understood totally why my partner used that tub as often as possible.
The mix of eucalyptus and peppermint oil Alex had put into the water smelled so good. It was really liberating for my nose.
Though the water barrier and the closed door I could hear Alex. She sang in the kitchen I’m Your Man from Michael Bublé out loud.
I closed my eyes and listened to a few lines.
‘If you want a partner – Take my hand’
‘And if you want a doctor – I’ll examine every inch of you’
‘If you want a driver – Climb inside’
‘Or if you want to take me for a ride - You know you can’
I laughed harder because she had done it just a few minutes ago.
‘If you want a father for your child – or only want to walk with me a while’
‘If you want a lover – I’ll do anything you ask me to.
And if you want another kind of love – I’ll wear a mask for you’
“I’m your MAN”
I whispered, and sank down the surface.
What would be, when Alex now came inside? When she just wore a thin, lucent satin kimono? Which she whipped off her flawless petite body before she climbed naked to me inside the tub.
I would examine every inch of her bare skin with my lustful gaze. I would pull her on my lap to take her for a ride. My arms around her slender forms, surrounding her.
I shouldn’t think of my partner that way. I reprimanded myself.
If I would be her lover, I’d do anything she asked me to. Dear, I chastised myself. Stop that, Goren. It’s not right. To divert my undue thoughts, I let my gaze roam through Alex’s bathroom. There were a few toilette articles, less makeup, more utensils for her hair like clips and slides.
I wondered because during the duty my partner wore her hair always open. That wonderful golden and wheat blond and semi long hair. I would bury my fingers deep into them and pulling her toward me – narrow, really narrow. I would hold her close, so close.
Shit, I stared wide eyes over the water surface. Now my nose wasn’t the only thing, which peeked through it. Only with thinking of my partner – and me – let me react in an unacceptable but great feeling way.
What if Alex really came inside the bathroom, I panicked, and sat up a bit to hide my arousal, clustered more foam around the indicated region of my body.
My gaze roamed again through the little room to find something for distraction. Eames’ laundry basket came in my field of vision. But instead of thinking of dirty jeans and shirts I conjured about lace bras and silk panties she had worn on her warm body. Now my sex started to quiver that excited I was.
I clenched my fists, tried to concentrate and to calm down. My nostrils were free and scratchy throat was away. I could breathe normally. Yes, I felt better, much better and the fire which flew through my body was no fever of sickness. It was fever because of prurience.
I wasn’t hard like that a long time ago.
Taking a deep breath, I sank totally down the water surface.
Wrapped in a blue and black stripped bathrobe Alex had placed ready for me, I entered her kitchen. I hoped the long and fluffy garment was her hubby’s one time. I won’t imagine my beautiful partner with a guy. Won’t imagine her in someone else arms, taking together a hot shower, having breakfast after a wild night.
Delicious smells of hot soup and tea with honey reached my nose as I leaned in the door frame.
“Hey, Joe’s bathrobe suits.” Alex said as she looked up from the soup pot.
“Very well,” I nod, and signed quietly but relieved.
“We can eat in five minutes.”
“I made you hot tea.”
“I can smell it, with honey.”
“So your nose is free again?” Alex asked, and passed me the big mug with the balmy liquid. I grabbed for it and our fingertips met accidentally for a moment. A warm and soft billow ran through my whole body. It started at the meeting point in my finger, circled around my heart and stomach and ended in my crotch, left a slight and languorous dragging pain. I took a sip and nodded.
“Otherwise you aren’t such a hypochondriac, are you Bobby?” Alex rolled her eyes. “Do you still think of lassa?”
“No…” I sank my gaze and smiled shyly. “…that was dense.” I shuffled in the living room and sat onto the couch. Before Alex passed me my bowl of hot soup, she wrapped a cozy quilt around me.
I slurped the first spoon of that magical chicken broth Alex had conjured, as she came with her pot of soup and snuggled beside me. She got under her own blanket and turned toward me. With her free hand she ran through my still damp hair.
“You should stay on the couch tonight or you’ll be seriously ill.”
I nod and we both sat in silence and ate.
I blinked tiredly and smiled softly toward Alex. She fluffed once again the pillow and wrapped the big comforter around me. Yawning I got on my side and watched her leaving the living room.
Dear that woman was hot. From my lying position onto the couch, I saw her slightly swinging hips and her slender frame, which was only covered with a pale rosé, satin negligee. Alex gave an incredible sharp curved body. I also could imagine her well trained thighs; saw them because of the illumination of the bedroom which shines on her and through the thin material of the nightie.
“Good night, Bobby,” Alex said over her shoulder, and entered her room. Under the architrave of the door she turned around once more and smiled so warm.
I was speechless, could only watch how she settled down and covered her pregnant body. Alex also turned on her side and searched my eyes with hers. We sank deep into one another. Although there was so much space between us – over 15 feet – it felt as if she lay by my side. As if I could feel her hot breathe on my blazing skin. As if we would snuggle in the same bed, under the same blanket. Then Alex switched off the lights and cut that mysterious bond.
“Night,” I breathed in the dark, and realized that Alex would leave the door between us open. Oh dear that night will be different than all nights before in my life but I was very curious about it...
Thanks for taking the time to read: Lassa or Dengue?
We'll read us again…Antje