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section7mfu2016-12-05 01:00 pm
"Nursemaid is part of the job description?" For the Short Affair 12/5/16
Challenge: The Short Affair.
-Prompt Word #2 – Gusto
-Prompt Colour – Grey
Author: mrua7
Title: ‘Nursemaid is part of the job description.’
Word Count: Approx. 950
It was a dark rainy day, grey and miserable. That was pretty much how Illya Kuryakin felt, grey and miserable.
He had just ladled a bowlful of chicken noodle soup for himself, but sat at his kitchen table spoon in hand, staring at the food. He had no desire to dive into it with his usual gusto.
Hoping the steam from the hot soup would help clear his stuffy nose, he leaned his face towards it and tried to inhale. Nothing, well he did sneeze.
A familiar coded knock on the door drew his attention, and he wasn’t thrilled as he knew it was his partner who would surely fuss over him.
Napoleon let himself in with is key.
“Illya?”
“Kitchen.”
As soon as he stepped into the room his eyes zeroed in the Russian.
“Whoa, you look terrible.”
“Thank you so much for reminding me,” Illya grumbled.
Illya’s hair was wild, spiked in a few directions, he was unshaven with at least two day’s beard growth. Dressed in a ragged pair of black sweatpants and a sweatshirt with a hole in the chest; he was wrapped in a ratty grey robe. He at least had on the nice slippers that Napoleon had given him last Christmas.
“When was the last time you took a shower?”
“A few days ago. I was running a low grade fever so I thought it best not to…well, I just did not feel like it.”
“Still have a fever?”
“No.”
“Are you just saying that?”
“Napoleon, I will be fine. What is it you want?”
“Well, I hadn’t heard from you in a while and there was a rumor in headquarters that you were ill. You have the week off off and you didn’t say you were going anywhere, so I thought I’d just stop by.”
“So you are saying you missed me,” Illya almost smiled.
“When you put it that way...yes.”
Illya grabbed his handkerchief from his robe pocket and sneezed into it again.
“Bood' zdorov.”
“Spasibo and thank you, it is nice to be missed,” Illya became less defensive.”Would you like some chicken noodle soup, there is plenty more in the pot. I can make you a grilled cheese sandwich to go with it.”
Napoleon smiled. “How domestic of you Mr. Kuryakin, don’t mind if I do. I’ll make the sandwiches though, you just sit there and eat your soup. Did you take any aspirin today?”
Illya chuckled. “What do you think the answer is to that?”
“Yes, I know, but I figured I’d ask anyway. If I go get some aspirin from your medicine chest, will you take it?
“Tsk,” Illya clicked his tongue. “Yes Doctor Solo, for you I will.”
Napoleon went to the bathroom and retrieved the aspirin. It was an unopened bottle that he recalled buying for Illya last time he was sick.
Taking a couple of tablets back to the kitchen; Illya dry swallowed them without argument.
“You know you’re not in the field, you could have taken them with a glass of water. You’re supposed to drink plenty of fluids when you have a cold.”
“Napoleon please do not lecture me; I know these things but what I do with my body is my choice.”
Solo shook his head at his partner’s stubbornness.
Once the sandwiches were made, Napoleon sat at the kitchen table with his partner and together they ate their lunch.
“Good soup,” he said.
“Good sandwich,” Illya replied, what he could taste of it.
That was the sumtotal of their conversation until they were done eating.
“Why don’t you go take that shower and shave tovarisch, you’ll feel better, I guarantee it.”
“I suppose you will not stop bringing it up until I do?”
“You don’t exactly look like your usual handsome….well, let’s say you look a little scary.”
“Thank you. That is the look I was going for.”
“Very funny, now go shower and shave. That’s an order,” Napoleon pointed to him.
“Yes sir, Mr. Solo sir.” Illya saluted.
While Kuryakin was in the bathroom Napoleon tidied up, doing the dishes. He changed the sheets on Illya’s bed and laid out his partner’s blue pyjamas. Beside it was set a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with string that he’d brought with him.
When Illya entered his bedroom, towel drying his hair and wearing only his bathrobe, he stopped dead in his tracks.
“What is that?” He pointed to the package.
“Open it and see.”
He did so, and found in it was a thick navy blue terry cloth bathrobe, nearly floor length.
“Napoleon…”
“Just shut up, change into your jammies, put on your new robe and don’t forget your slippers. Then come back to the kitchen as I’m making tea with lemon and honey for you. After that, you’re on you’re own until this evening. I’ll stop by with some Chinese takeout for you, and your other favorite soup, Wonton Mein. I have a dinner date with Heather McNabb; we’re going to Chinatown.”
“Napoleon, why are you doing this?”
“Because I need you back to work on Monday, but more importantly I want my best friend and partner feeling better.”
Illya nodded his reply with a little smile.
After dressing, Illya went straight to the kitchen where his tea was ready and waiting. Napoleon saluted his
goodbye and set set the alarm before he exited the apartment, and locked the door after himself.
Illya smiled; next to his cup of tea on a plate was a treacle tart. Another surprise from his ...nursemaid. Illya wondered if that was part of Solo’s job description.
The tart made his day and Napoleon was right...he was feeling better for all sorts of reasons.
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Thanks for the great comment. Kinda slow here today isn't it?
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