"Think you might have the flu. Oh, baby," she sighs softly. "Don't move."
Which she doesn't think will be a problem. Getting up, she grabs a bowl from the kitchen and fills it with cool water before grabbing a towel to sit and try and cool him down.
"I'm sorry you feel crappy," she murmurs tenderly.
He hasn't moved at all, finding that he's most comfortable on his back for now. He's stripped down to just his boxers, and that's perfect. "Think I'm dyin', Juliet," he jokes softly, eyes still closed as he lays there.
"Don't say that," she chides softly, stroking his forehead tenderly with the cool cloth.
"You'll be okay, I promise. I'll take care of you. I'm gonna go call Horace, okay? I'll be right back," Juliet tells him, wanting to get some water for him as well.
"Comin' out of retirement for me," he smirks sleepily. Once she leaves, he dozes a little, kicking off all the sheets and blankets. By the time she comes back, though, he's shivering.
She'll only ever break her rule for him. He's always been the exception for her. The exception to wanting to leave, to refusing to give her heart away again. James somehow managed to get the best of her, and keep it safe.
"Hey," she soothes. "You have a fever so it'll be a little back and forth baby. Drink some water for me and then I'll keep you warm," she promises, helping him sit up carefully. "Take the Tylenol for me, okay?"
Once he's sitting up a bit, he does take the Tylenol dutifully and he drains the cup of water completely. By the time he's done with that, he's exhausted again and he tugs the blankets up, resting his head on her shoulder. "Warm me up, baby."
He mumbles something, but keeps his eyes closed. Eventually, he starts to doze a little, and he shifts to lay more on her chest. He sleeps for about an hour before a coughing fit wakes him up, and he rolls away from her onto his other side, trying not to bother her.
He does slowly sip at his water before laying back down. He's still on his side facing away from her, feeling so damn hot again and kicking the blankets off. With just his boxers on, he still feels like a furnace; either the Tylenol hasn't kicked in, or it's just not enough to really tame the fever.
"Don't wanna move," he groans a little, shutting his eyes tightly, then coughing again. When he coughs this time, it's so much deeper, and there's a clear wheeze in his lungs as he inhales and exhales.
He knows she's right, and he manages to eventually get up after a moment, letting her lead him to the bathroom. He hates the cold water, but he knows he needs it, and once he sinks into the tub, it does feel good against his warm skin. He settles his head back, closing his eyes as he sinks into the water.
That pulls a soft chuckle from him, but his eyes stay closed. His head does turn towards her, though. "I know I'm real damn sick 'cause I don't even feel like foolin' around right now."
He's still coughing badly, but as she holds him and he warms up a little - without being too warm - he finally feels like he can get some sleep, which is what his body needs. Eventually, he drifts off to sleep, snoring because he's so congested.
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Which she doesn't think will be a problem. Getting up, she grabs a bowl from the kitchen and fills it with cool water before grabbing a towel to sit and try and cool him down.
"I'm sorry you feel crappy," she murmurs tenderly.
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"You'll be okay, I promise. I'll take care of you. I'm gonna go call Horace, okay? I'll be right back," Juliet tells him, wanting to get some water for him as well.
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"Hey," she soothes. "You have a fever so it'll be a little back and forth baby. Drink some water for me and then I'll keep you warm," she promises, helping him sit up carefully. "Take the Tylenol for me, okay?"
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"I'll make you some soup later," she promises.
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"It's okay, baby," she murmurs. "Take slow sips of water."
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"Let me get you into a cool bath, James. It'll help," she urges.
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"I know, baby, but I need to get your fever down, okay?" she soothes, stroking his hair. "I'll be right in the bathroom with you."
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"How can you be so sick, but look so good?" she asks rhetorically.
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"We have plenty of time for that. You just let me take care of you now, okay? I'm a retired doctor."
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She keeps him in the back a few more minutes before helping him out and back into bed.
"How do you feel right now? Hot or cold?"
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"I like being your personal furnace."
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He's still coughing badly, but as she holds him and he warms up a little - without being too warm - he finally feels like he can get some sleep, which is what his body needs. Eventually, he drifts off to sleep, snoring because he's so congested.
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She'll get him some food, make sure he drinks water, and then hold him as long as he wants.
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