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Something was different. He felt it as soon as the sound of the alarm clock reached through his sleeping mind. He reached out a hand and turned it off, only half opening his eyes for a few seconds. His wife gruntled discontentedly at both the sound and the movement. As usual, she had draped herself all over him. Her head resting on his chest and her arm around his waist. Sometimes it all felt like a dream and he found himself thinking he would wake up alone in his old home. But no, Phryne Fisher was indeed his wife and what was even more unbelievable, they had a five year-old daughter.
His quickly opened his eyes. That was what was different! Ophelia had not come running into them yet and it was half past six. She normally woke up at four and came running straight into their room, throwing up the door so it slamed against the wall, waking both him and his wife up. Both he and Phryne had thought moving to the Fisher family estate in England would stop this habit, but the little girl seemed to like the additional running distance between her room and theirs as a challenge. In a way he would not have expect something less when he had a child with Phryne Fisher.
"Ophelia's not here", he said quietly, putting his left hand on the arm his wife had placed around his waist and the other in her hair. Their sex-life was wonderful, but he loved these moments of intimacy between them even more.
"She's probably still asleep", his wife murmured in a voice still filled with sleep. Lazily, she turned her head, giving him a tender kiss on his chest, almost on top of his right nipple. He closed his eyes, letting himself feel his love for her vibrating throughout him.
"Even she must run out of energy sometimes." she added, before falling completely back to sleep again.
He smiled at the comment, thinking about the day before. It had been snowing an unusual amount and Ophelia had spent the entire outside rolling around in it and making snow angels before running inside to ask him and her mother if they wanted to help her build a snowman. This, of course had ended with a big snowball fight between his daughter and his wife. He smiled looking down at the sleeping woman snuggled up to him. Their daughter always managed to bring out her reckless side in a wonderfully childish way. Of course he had to finish the snowman by himself, but he loved watching them having fun together. Perhaps the girl was just tired after being active and was still asleep... He closed his eyes, deciding to ignore the alarm clock and sleeping a while longer. After all, it was unusual to have time alone with his wife in the mornings. But he could not get rid of the feeling that something was wrong. He opened his eyes again.
"I need to check on her", he said, gently trying to move his wife from his body. She groand, but did not stop him. Instead she helped out by turning over with a discontented sigh. He knew she thought he overreacted without her needing to say it.
It did not take long for him finding his pyjamas jacket and morning robe on the floor beside the bed. He had not really cared to put them on again last night. His feet soon found their way into the slippers and he opened the door to his and his wife's bedroom and steped out into the hallway, careful to close the door behind him as quietly as possible so he would not disturb his wife.
He opened the door to his daughter's room hoping to find her playing among the too large pile of toys she had (Both he and Phryne had tried in vain to have Margaret and Henry stop spoiling Ophelia.), but was instead met with a dark, quiet room. The air in the room was stuffy and it had a sick smell to it. He felt his heart rate increase immediately. He lit the lamp flooding the room with light. The black hair peeking out from underneath the cover in the bed in the fartherest corner of the room made him sigh in relief. She was there! After she was kidnapped a year prior, he could not get rid of the worry of finding her gone. The worry did not really go away by her mere precense in the room though. She lay far too still and finding her with her head on the pillow was very unusual.
Not able to stand the worry anymore, he crossed the room in three big strides, crouching down by his daughter's bed.
"Ophelia", he whispered as he bent down over the bed, gently reaching out to touch her back. He flinched, directly pulling back his hand. She was extremely hot to the touch.
"Ophelia?!" he exclaimed and rapidly turned over the little girl in the bed. She gave up a tired groan, clearly not liking the movement.
"Daddy", came a raspy voice from the girl and she opened her greenish-blue eyes. They were tired and glossy from fever. Dried snot was evident underneath her button nose and on the hand she reach out for him. "I don't feel good."
"Oh darling!" He took the small hand in his and felt panic rushing through his body. She could not be sick! How serious was it? Would she survive? Phryne! "Daddy will be right back sweetheart."
He stroked her sweating forehead and she gave up a loud cough in response. He decided then and there that it would not do to leave her in her bed. Gently she lifted her out of bed. Immediately, she started to shiver.
"No Daddy, freezing!" she murmured.
Thinking fast, he put the little girl down on the bed and swept the cover around her, before lifting her up again. He had taken a few steps from the bed, when she suddenly exclaimed: "Victor!" followed by a series of coughs. He shushed her gently, stroking her hair before turning around and walked back to the bed to pick up the pink teddy bear. He gave it to his daughter who drew it inside of the cover, close to her heart.
"Anything else that you need my dear?" he asked gently stroking her fever warm cheek. She shook her head before lying it against his shoulder. "Then we go to Mummy."
"I don't feel good Daddy", she said tiredly.
"I know sweetheart", he answered stroking her hair as he walked out of the room, not caring to close the door behind him. He felt her drifting off to sleep again.
He found his wife asleep in their bed, as he got into the bedroom caring their daughter. He immediately reached out a hand to shake her awake.
"How can you be sleeping?" he asked angryily, but quietly to not wake up Ophelia. "You have a sick child."
"Do I have a sick child?" Phryne said with a surprised, but calm tone, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. "I didn't know that. Put her down here then."
She rolled down the covers and patted on the part in the middle of the bed where Ophelia normally slept and he carefully placed the girl where Phryne had indicated.
"She feels very hot", he said worriedly, as he sat down on his side of the bed.
"Yes, she probably has a fever Inspector", his wife answered, feeling their daughter's forehead with the backside of her hand.
"She's been coughing and snifling a lot too..."
"Yes, based on the snot underneath her nose, she probably has a cold."
"She will never be out in the snow again! What if she dies Phryne?! I can't bear to lose her."
"Jack Robinson!" his wife said sternly, sitting up in bed. "You are one of the bravest men I know, but when it comes to your own child you are among the silliest! She will not die from a simple cold. Now I'm going into the bathroom to gather some tissues and a towel to clean up all the dried snot from our child's face and hand because that is simply disgusting and you can walk downstairs and bring back a glass of water and tell cook to make some tea."
"Are we simply going to leave her here alone?"
"I will be in the next room for only a couple of minutes Jack. Go!"
He sighed, stroking his daughter's cheek one last time before rising and walking out the door.