Eve snuggled closer to Roarke. She loved mornings like this; where she could just lie in bed and be wrapped up in his arms. It sounded girly but she really did like it. As she sighed in contentment she suddenly felt sick. She wriggled out of his arms and bolted to the bathroom. There, she dropped to her knees and hurled into the toilet. When she finished she cursed quietly, not hearing Roarke come in she said, “Dammit, I couldn’t have waited half an hour more?” “Why would you wait another half hour to be sick?” He asked softly and she jolted with surprise.
He sat down behind her and gathered her into his arms. Feeling her forehead he frowned, she didn’t feel feverish. Eve sighed, “It’s nothing, really, just the flu or something.” His frown deepened, “How long have you been throwing up?” “It’s been coming on and off for the last week.” She replied and his frown turned to a scowl of irritation, “Why didn’t you tell me? You know I would’ve stayed home with you!” She threw her hands up with an exasperated cry, “That’s why I didn’t tell you! I don’t want you to put things off for a stupid bug! I gotta go to work.” With that she stood and strode into the bedroom.
He frowned, ‘Why would she keep being sick from him?’ Eve grabbed some clothes and threw them on in record time. She headed for the door and Roarke stopped her, “What?” she snapped, irritated. He quirked an eyebrow and she sighed, “Sorry, I just don’t want you babying me over a stupid bug. “ it was his turn to sigh now, “Of course you don’t.” He mumbled, “At least have some breakfast if you won’t let me take care of you.” She bit her lip as her stomach growled, she was pretty hungry. But she really didn’t want him slipping something into her food. God knows he’d done it before. He seemed to read her mind and chuckled, “I promise I won’t put anything in your food.” She accepted that and sat at the little table.
He strolled over to the auto chef and slipped a booster into the orange juice he programmed. He felt bad but was worried enough about her that he dismissed the feeling of guilt. She didn’t get sick easily, but it always hit her hard when she did. He took the plate of pancakes, the orange juice, and a bottle of syrup over to the table and set it in front of her.
She frowned when he sat, “You aren’t going to have any?” He shook his head, “No, I’ll have some later.” She narrowed her eyes and eyed the pancakes, “You put something in them didn’t you?” He shook his head, “I swear I didn’t put anything in the pancakes.” It was pushing it, but he wasn’t lying. She looked at him and decided that he wouldn’t break his word and grabbed the bottle of syrup. She uncapped it and drowned her pancakes. He cringed when she grabbed her fork and cut out a piece, then, even though it was drowned in syrup all ready, dunked the slice into the pool of syrup and popped it into her mouth. “What?” She asked around the pancake. “You’re going to have a heart attack.” She lifted her fork in a toast and replied, “I’ll die happy.” He laughed and said, “Drink your orange juice.”
She sighed and picked up the glass. She decided that if she chugged it, she would get it over with faster. She downed it then glared at him when she caught he bitter aftertaste of a booster. She opened her mouth to yell at him, but stopped as he cut in, “I didn’t break my word or lie. I said I wouldn’t put anything in your food, I didn’t say I wouldn’t put it in your drink.” “That’s pushing it real hard ace.” She warned “It’s a natural booster that’s all. No chemicals.” He said and she frowned, about to protest, but the meal had settled her stomach some and she knew the booster wouldn't give her the sticky feeling she got from medicine. She sighed and let it drop, “Fine. Okay now I really do have to go to work.” She got up and remembered that she had to go to Dr. Mira’s for a profile on the case she was currently working. Although she didn’t like to admit it, she kind of liked talking to Mira, even if she make her drink that flower tea stuff. Roarke stood and leaned over the table to kiss her. She quickly kissed him, then turned and strode out the door as Roarke watched her go with a look of worry etched into his sculpted face.
As she jogged down the stairs she inwardly groaned. Summerset stood at the foot of the stairs with a slight frown in place instead of his usual sneer. “You pull that stick out of your ass yet?” She asked and he grimaced, “Perhaps today will be a national holiday and you will come home without dirtying the carpet with blood.” She snorted and tried to dodge around him but he stepped into her path. “What now?” She snapped and his face changed from sneer to a little frown, “I understand that you have caught a stomach bug.” “Yeah, what about it?” “Perhaps you should take a day off.” He replied smoothly. She blinked in shock. Was summerset; the one who she constantly sniped with, asking her to stay home because of a stupid stomach bug? “I’m fine it’s just a bug.” She said. “You wouldn’t want to pass it onto others, would you?” He asked and she frowned, “Well they’ll just have to deal now won’t they?” He barely refrained from sighing, instead he huffed in annoyance, “Well if that is the case, I should tell you that there is a caterer coming tonight at 7 and that you need to discuss plans for the dinner next week with them.” “I don’t know what they need to discuss. Get food. Cook food. Put food on table. That’s it.” He sighed and moved aside. She strode past him and out the door. She saw her car was already running out front and it probably had the heater going too. That was one thing (the only thing, she told herself) that kept her from strangling him half the time.