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Alt. 4. Forehead Kisses
After listening to everyone in the office complain about catching the latest cold, Neal wasn’t surprised when he woke up one morning with a sore throat and a slightly runny nose. He took an extra long shower before brewing himself a cup of tea and walking out the door.
Peter was waiting for him in the Taurus, an unusually grumpy look on his face.
“Morning, Peter,” Neal said as he climbed into the passenger seat.
Peter stared hard at Neal for a moment before speaking. “Where were you last night?”
Neal paused as he was pulling his seatbelt across his body. “At home. Why?”
Peter sighed, a look of relief crossing his face. “I was hoping you’d say that. There was a break in last night at a private residential property and a lot of the evidence was very similar to that stunt you pulled in Venice.”
“Allegedly,” Neal said, resuming his buckling process. “Do I have a copy cat?”
“Don’t look so excited about that,” Peter snapped. “But no, it wasn’t that similar.”
Neal had the decency to look disappointed as he settled in for the drive to the office. He slipped a cough drop out of his jacket pocket and crinkled it open, missing the look of concern that Peter shot him.
“You okay?” Peter asked.
“Yeah, fine.”
“People who are fine don’t need cough drops.”
Clearing his throat, Neal took a sip of tea. “I think I’m coming down with a cold.”
“The infamous Neal Caffrey is getting sick. Never thought I’d see the day,” Peter smirked.
“Not getting sick, just catching a cold,” Neal corrected.
Peter rolled his eyes but let the subject drop, mentally preparing himself to deal with a sick Neal all day.
“Grab your stuff, Neal. Got a stakeout to get to.” Pater knocked on Neal’s desk with his knuckle as he walked up to it.
Neal looked up in surprise. He had planned on spending the day looking over cold cases while Peter tried to catch his copy cat, since Peter thought he was the culprit—he wasn’t planning on spending any time in the van or worse, in the Taurus with Peter’s deviled ham. “What are we staking out?”
“There was chatter of a heist going down on another residential home, so we’re going to watch and see what happens. Hope you’re ready for a long night.” Peter knew that Neal hated the van, so he took pity on Neal and decided to sit in the Taurus for the stakeout.
“Who else is going?” Neal asked, gathering his things to follow Peter to the elevator banks.
“Just us,” Peter said as they entered the elevator. “Perfect timing, too, because there’s a game that starts soon that I want to listen to.”
Neal bit back a groan. “Oh, goodie,” he deadpanned. “If you get to listen to the game can we at least stop and get coffee?”
“Yeah, sure. My treat.” Peter led the way to the Taurus and climbed in, starting the car and waiting for Neal to get in. “Where do you want to get coffee?”
Neal shrugged. “Wherever.”
Peter frowned. “You always care about where your coffee comes from. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just planning on getting tea, not coffee.” Neal unwrapped another cough drop.
“Throat sore?” Peter steered the car towards his favorite cafe.
“Mmhmm.” Neal wasn’t feeling sick, really, but he was exhausted and his throat was driving him nuts. His nose was running just enough to bother him but he didn’t sound congested yet. “Did the chatter say anything about when this guy is gonna strike again?”
“No, but I would assume after dark. Who robs a house in broad daylight?” Peter took a breath. “Actually, don’t answer that.”
Neal grinned as they parked outside the cafe.
Six hours later there was no sign of another heist being pulled. Peter looked over at Neal worriedly, noticing how quiet the younger man was and how his chin kept dipping down towards his chest. Peter made the executive decision to call it quits and started the car, pulling out onto the deserted street.
Neal jerked his head up. “What happened?” His voice was hoarse and he cleared his throat, wincing a bit at the feeling.
“Absolutely nothing. We’re going home.”
Neal didn’t say anything, just leaned his head against the window and let his eyes drift shut. He thought he had been exhausted before the stakeout—he was dead on his feet now. Crawling into his bed sounded like heaven and he couldn’t wait for Peter to drop him off.
“Wake up, partner. You’re home.” Peter reached over and gently squeezed Neal’s arm to wake him.
Neal sucked in a breath as he regained consciousness, rubbing his eyes as he looked out the window. “Thanks for the ride. See you in the morning.”
“Sure thing. Get some rest.” Peter waited until Neal was through June’s front door before pulling away from the curb and driving home.
Neal felt substantially worse the next day. His nose had plugged up with congestion while he was asleep and it had completely tanked the quality of the little sleep he did get. Taking a shower helped marginally, and Neal shivered as he got himself dressed. He added a sweater to his outfit and got himself out the door seconds before Peter called him to complain about him running late.
“Morning, Neal.” Peter eyed his partner as he climbed stiffly into the Taurus. “How’d you sleep?”
Neal groaned and rubbed at his eyes. “Not nearly long enough.” He coughed into his elbow and thunked his head against the window.
“You okay?” Peter noticed how pale Neal was and the extra sweater, the congestion roughened voice and the slight shivers wracking his body.
“Yeah. Tired.”
Peter scoffed. “Clearly you’re sick. I have half a mind to make you go back inside right now, but I’m not sure that would do you much good.”
“I’m fine, Peter.”
Peter raised an eyebrow and started driving. Once Neal was slumped against the window, Peter turned the car in the direction of his house and sent a quick text to Elizabeth.
“Come on, partner.” Peter reached out to feel Neal’s cheek with the back of his fingers. He frowned when he felt the heat coming off the younger man. “Just a cold my ass,” he muttered to himself.
Neal’s eyes fluttered open and he looked around in confusion. “What are we doing here?”
“El is working from home today and she’s going to look after you; see if she can’t get you feeling better.”
“Peter, I told you I’m fine.” He coughed into his fist harshly and winced at the feeling in his throat.
“You’re not fine, you have a fever. Now get your ass in the house before I have to carry you.”
Neal hauled himself out of the car and glanced up at Peter’s front door. El was standing on the stoop, smiling at hime warmly.
“Hey, sweetie. Come on in.” She stepped aside and let Neal through the door, waving at Peter before she went into the house. She ushered Neal to the couch and motioned for him to sit down. “I’m okay, El. I just need a little sleep.” Neal sank gratefully into the couch cushions, coughing weakly into his elbow.
“Well, sleep is what you’ll get then.” El grabbed the extra duvet she’d brought downstairs and draped it over Neal’s shivering body. “Can I get you anything? Tea, water, juice?”
“I’m fine, thanks.” Neal grabbed the duvet and pulled it closer around his body. Despite the sweater he’d put on that morning he was freezing.
“Have you taken anything for that fever?” El asked, sitting on the coffee table.
Neal looked at El like she had superpowers.
“Honey, you look terrible. It doesn’t take a genius to put the pieces together.” El sighed. “Okay, here’s how this is going to go. I’m going to make you some tea and get you some Tylenol. You’re going to put on these,” she motioned to the flannel sleep pants she had sitting on the table next to her, “and get comfortable on the couch.”
Neal opened his mouth to argue but El interrupted him.
“And don’t even think about arguing, Neal Caffrey. You’ll do what you’re told.”
Neal gulped. “Yes, ma’am.”
El busied herself gathering the items Neal would need for the next few hours and gave Neal some privacy to change. After several minutes she went back to the living room and smiled when she saw Neal all curled up on the couch. His cheeks were flushed with fever and he was shivering. Humming under her breath, El leaned down and kissed Neal’s forehead, testing for fever. “You most definitely have a fever, sweetie.”
Taking her seat on the coffee table again, El poured out a dose of liquid Tylenol and handed it to Neal.
Neal downed the medicine and grimaced as it burned his throat.
“There’s tea here, when you’re ready for it. And I have some cough drops and popsicles in the freezer if you want one of those.” El leaned back. “Ready to watch some tv and take a nap?”
Neal nodded, propping himself up a little to sip at the tea. “Thanks, El.”