Domestic Bliss

Still Sick

"Hello, asshole," Melanie Marcus said as she walked through the door of Brian's bedroom. She looked positively cheerful.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Brian asked. He knew that look on her face could not mean anything good.

"Didn't Justin tell you? I'm your nurse for the day." The evil gleam in her eyes sent shivers up Brian's feverish spine.

"Justin," he whined. "Justin, don't leave me."

"I have to get to work," Justin said quickly. He came over to the bed and kissed Brian's cheek. "You'll be fine."

"Noooo," Brian whimpered. "Don't leave me with her."

"I have to go. You know there's a lot to do at 4Front."

"But I'm sick. Don't leave me. Let me come with you," Brian pleaded. He was holding onto Justin's arm in a deathlike grip.

"I really have to go. You'll be fine."

"Nooo…"

"Stop being such a fucking baby. Get out of here, Justin," Melanie ordered. She gave Justin a glare as she ripped Brian's hand off Justin's arm.

"Bye, Brian. See you this afternoon," Justin called as he escaped from the bedroom.

Brian whimpered internally. He refused to let the sound escape. He knew he couldn't show any weakness to Melanie Marcus. He drew in a deep breath and stared at her as she stood hand on hip studying him.

"What?" he demanded in his best sarcastic and imperious voice. It didn't sound up to his usual snark though, thanks to his very sore throat.

"This is what you get for allowing Gus to get sick," Melanie stated. There was not an ounce of sympathy emanating from her. She was going to torture him, Brian knew it with certainty.

"Don't you have other victims to persecute somewhere?" Brian asked.

"No, just you," she said airily. "I decided I could afford to work from home today. So, you have me for the full day."

Brian couldn't prevent the groan that escaped his lips.

Melanie glared at him and then chuckled. "This is exactly where I've always wanted you," she said with the most sinister voice Brian had ever heard.

Brian stared, fascinated by this woman who had always hated his fucking guts. And now she was here, supposedly to look after him. He felt fear creep through him. She really was evil.

"Um … you should really go to work. I'm sure you have important things to do," Brian ventured. "I'll be fine by myself."

"Yeah, right. And if anything happened to you, they'd crucify me," she scoffed.

"Really, I'm fine," Brian tried to convince her.

"Give it up, Kinney. I'm here for the day."

"Where's Lindsay?"

"Home."

"Why didn't she come?"

"She's looking after Gus."

"You could look after Gus and she could look after me," Brian said hopefully.

"Gus wanted Lindsay to stay with him, so I got the short straw, and here I am. Deal with it."

Gus had the right idea. He was a smart little fucker. Of course it was better to be home with Lindsay than with Melanie.

"I feel tired," Brian said hoping that would at least get her out of the room.

"Have you taken your meds?" she asked, ignoring his statement.

"Yes."

"Did you eat some breakfast?"

"Yes."

"Do you need to pee?"

"No, not at the moment." Even if he had to piss like an elephant, Brian wouldn't have admitted that to his old nemesis.

"What the fuck is this?" Melanie asked picking up the dish that Justin had left on the night stand hours ago.

Brian looked at the limp slices of cucumber. "Cucumber," he replied to her question.

"What the fuck is Justin feeding you cucumber for? You need substantial food when you're ill. Although, if he wants you to die from malnutrition, that's fine with me. Would you like some more for lunch?" she asked snidely.

"No, I fucking don't want more for lunch. They weren't to eat anyway," Brian mumbled.

"Then what are they doing here?" Melanie asked with a frown. She studied the limp slices in the dish. Brian refused to say anything. He wished he hadn't answered anything about the fucking cucumber. Melanie looked at him again, and then chuckled evilly. "You were using them on the bags under your eyes, weren't you, asshole?"

"I don't have bags under my eyes," Brian protested weakly.

Melanie snorted. "Go to sleep, Kinney. You need lots of rest by the look of you. I'll be downstairs."

Brian watched as she marched out of the room. He breathed a sigh of relief as she disappeared from sight. Maybe a nap was a good thing right now. When he woke up, she might be gone.

*****

Brian awoke with a start. Something had a death grip on his shoulder. It felt like the jaws of a fucking crocodile. He opened his eyes slowly dreading what he might find.

"It's noon," Melanie said releasing his shoulder.

Brian rubbed the spot trying to get some circulation going through the affected area. "So?" he asked.

"I brought you soup."

"Couldn't you wait until I woke up?"

"The soup is ready. Eat!"

"Fuck! Have you never heard of reheating?"

"It's better the first time around," Melanie stated.

"Isn't that love?"

"No, asshole, love is better the second time around."

"And so would the soup," Brian griped.

Melanie glared at him. "And what the fuck would you know about love anyway?"

Brian opened his mouth to respond, but thought better of it. He was awake. He might as well eat the fucking soup, then maybe she'd leave him alone again. He struggled to sit up in bed. He grabbed one of the pillows from Justin's side of the bed and tried to wedge it behind him. He couldn't seem to get it in a position that would allow him to sit up so he could eat the fucking soup.

"Could you give me a fucking hand?" he demanded.

With a smug look, Melanie started clapping.

"Fuck!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Lean forward," she ordered. She crammed the pillow behind his back. It wasn't particularly comfortable but at least he was more or less sitting up. "Now eat!" she commanded, as she set the tray across his legs.

"I could have got up," Brian said.

"Then get the fuck up. I'm going back downstairs to check in with the office."

"You do that."

"I don't need your fucking permission to do what I just said I was going to do."

Brian sighed and watched her march out of the room again. She always refused to cut him an inch of slack. It wouldn't matter what he said, she would find fault with it. He picked up the spoon and ran it through the broth. It must be Jewish chicken soup. What else would the harridan bring? He spooned up some and tentatively sipped it. It tasted pretty good. But that didn't mean she hadn't laced it with a little arsenic. Surprisingly Brian felt the hot soup soothe his sore throat. He ate a few more spoonfuls. Deciding that the soup hadn't killed him yet, Brian polished off the bowl. He was spooning up the last drops when Melanie arrived back in the bedroom.

"You must have been hungry," she said with a smile.

"It … it hit the spot," he grudgingly admitted.

"They say chicken soup is good for what ails you."

"Did you make it?" Brian wanted to know.

"I made it for Gus."

"Of course you did."

"It's my grandmother's recipe."

"It … made my throat feel better."

This time, when Melanie smiled, it was the first truly genuine smile that Brian had seen since she arrived. "Would you like some more? There's lots."

"Later … maybe."

"Okay," she replied. She took the tray away and set it on the dresser. "Do you need anything else?"

"I think I need to pee."

"You think, or you need to?" she asked ominously.

"I need to."

"So, what do we do?" For the first time since she had arrived, Melanie seemed a little unsure of herself.

"If you could kind of walk me in there," Brian ventured to say. "I get a little lightheaded when I stand up."

"Okay," she said. With that she came over to the bed and grabbed the top of the sheet covering him. Brian pulled it against himself. "What?" she demanded. "You're not naked under there, are you?" she laughed. The old Melanie was back. "Believe me, it won't have any effect on me."

"Thank God for small mercies," Brian blurted out.

"So, get up," she ordered with a sinister edge to her voice.

"I stink," Brian muttered.

"What?"

"I said I stink."

"So?"

"I've been sweating a lot since I got sick, and I reek."

"Gus did that too."

"But … it's really bad."

"I think I can stand your stink during the lengthy journey to the toilet. Besides, would you care to explain to me how I'm going to keep you from keeling over, if I can't even get near you?"

"Maybe I'll just stay here," Brian half moaned.

"Get the fuck up!" she ordered ripping the covers from Brian's hands. "I'm not cleaning the bed when you piss yourself."

Brian carefully swung his legs out of the bed and sat on the side of it. He took a minute to make sure his head wasn't spinning. Then he tried to stand up. He wavered and almost sat back down, but Melanie grabbed his arm and let him lean against her.

"Walk," she ordered. Her arm was wrapped around his waist where she could feel every bone and muscle. Brian Kinney was always a thin son of a bitch, but Melanie realized he seemed almost emaciated. No wonder he was lightheaded.

They quickly made their way to the bathroom. She was surprisingly strong for someone of her size, Brian thought to himself. She guided him along, taking his weight when he needed to lean against her to steady himself. She let Brian flop down on the toilet as soon as they arrived there.

"Thanks," he said as she backed away.

"I'll let you handle it from here. Call me when you're done."

Brian watched her disappear out the door, closing it behind her. He managed to stand up a bit and pull down his underwear. He wished he had some clean ones to put on. These were sweaty and probably stunk to high heaven, but he chose not to test that out with his nose.

"Are you okay?" Melanie's voice asked from the other side of the door.

"Yeah,"

"I'm throwing you a clean pair of underwear. Let me know if you can reach it or I'll have to come in there."

"Okay."

The door opened and Melanie pitched underwear in his direction. He was actually able to catch it before it hit the floor.

"Good arm," Brian called out to her.

She laughed. "I pitched for my little league team."

Brian raised an eyebrow. Nobody would have ever guessed that. He carefully kicked off the dirty pair of underwear and pulled the fresh ones on. He picked up the used ones and tossed them in the hamper. If he had a match, he would have burned them. With effort he managed to stand. He washed his hands holding onto the counter most of the time. Using the counter as a crutch, he made his way to the door. He opened it to find Melanie remaking his bed.

"Mel?" he said.

"Hold on a sec. I'm almost done." She smoothed the sheets and then came quickly over to where he was standing supported by the frame of the door. "You must be feeling a little better if you got this far," she said as she let him lean on her.

"Must be that magical chicken soup," Brian said tongue in cheek.

"Care for another bowl?"

"You know, I think I do."

Melanie's smile almost rivaled Justin's as she lowered Brian carefully to the bed. Brian swung his feet up and Melanie pulled the fresh sheet over him.

"Rest. I'll reheat some more soup." She stressed the word reheat, making Brian smile.

Melanie had just left the room when the phone rang. Brian picked it up from the nightstand. It was Justin.

"So how's it going?" Justin asked.

Brian could feel him holding his breath. "We haven't killed each other … yet."

"That's good," Justin chuckled.

"What the fuck ever possessed you to arrange for Melanie Marcus to come look after me?"

"There wasn't anybody else."

"I figured she had to be pretty far down the roll of possible nurses, but surely someone…"

"I tried everybody, Brian. It just turned out to be a bad day. Everyone had something else they had to do."

"Yeah, right."

"They did."

"Debbie?" Brian asked.

"She couldn't get anyone to cover her shift at the diner. There seems to be an epidemic of strep throat going around, not that you would know anything about that."

"You mean I got this at the fucking diner?"

"I didn't say that, but it's a possibility."

"Fuck!"

"Are you feeling any better?'

"Actually I think I am."

"Really? That's great."

"Melanie fed me some of her chicken soup. She's making me another bowl right now."

"And you ate it?" Justin asked in surprise. He had expected to hear that Brian refused to eat anything all day, wouldn't speak to Melanie and had hired a hit man to finish her off.

"It wasn't bad."

Justin laughed. "I never thought I'd live to hear you say that."

"You're still young. I have plenty more surprises."

"That's good to know."

Brian could feel the smile in Justin's voice. "When are you coming home?"

"I might be late."

"Why? Is something wrong at 4Front? Has Ted screwed up?"

"No, Ted hasn't screwed up. You didn't ask if I screwed up."

"You wouldn't do that … would you?"

Justin chuckled. "Thank you for that resounding vote of confidence."

"So why can't you come home early?"

"Brian, I'm doing your work and my work, and helping Ted. It's not exactly easy."

"Of course," Brian conceded. "If you need my help, just let me know. Bring the work home and maybe I can help."

"You must be feeling better."

"I am … a bit."

"That's good news."

"Maybe those antibiotics are starting to kick in."

"Well, get some rest, and I'll be home as soon as I can."

"Later."

"Later."

Brian set the phone down with a sigh.

"Melanie Marcus Catering," Melanie said as came through the door with a tray containing another bowl of soup and some toast. "We specialize in therapeutic chicken soup."

"I'd laugh, but it hurts," Brian snarked.

"Wouldn't want you to strain yourself."

"Don't worry, I won't." It seemed like their moments of congeniality were over and snark once again reigned supreme.

Brian tried to get his pillows arranged and then decided that he could eat more easily if he sat on the edge of the bed. He swung his legs out as Melanie watched. She knew it was a good thing if he got up more, but only if he was feeling like it. She set the soup on the nightstand and Brian began sipping it. With a satisfied smile Melanie headed back downstairs.

After Brian finished the soup, he ate some of the toast that she had brought up with the soup and then laid back down. He had to admit that he was feeling better, but he was still sleepy. He closed his eyes.

*****

A pleasant aroma tickled his olfactory senses. Brian sniffed and opened his eyes. Melanie was standing by the bed staring at him.

"What's that smell?"

"Chicken pot pie."

"Jewish chicken pot pie?"

Melanie chuckled. "Of course."

Brian smirked at her. "Time to eat … again?"

"Yep. Get up, asshole." But there was no venom in her voice.

Brian smiled. He swung his feet over the side of the bed and sat there waiting. Melanie made no effort to move. Brian looked over at her and realized that she had set the dishes on the table in the corner of the room.

"You expect me to walk all the way over there, don't you?" he asked.

She nodded her head. "You've slept the day away. It's time you used some of the energy you've stored up. We wouldn't want your muscles to atrophy, now would we?"

"No, especially certain muscles." If he didn't know better, he'd almost think that she blushed at his words. Couldn't be though, could it?

Brian made the effort to stand up. Using the post of the bed and the dresser for support, he made his way over to the table and sat down in the chair. He had to admit that it felt good to do some things for himself. That must mean he was getting better. He'd show Ms Melanie Marcus that he could fend for himself.

Having to eat the food Melanie provided would normally have pissed Brian off. But he somehow felt that it was all right in these circumstances. The pot pie was almost as good as the soup, almost but not quite.

As he ate, Melanie handed him his pill and he took it without comment. The pills seemed to be doing something right. He was feeling better. He was just finishing up his pot pie when the front door opened. Justin called up to them.

"That's my cue to head out," Melanie said immediately.

"Can't wait to get away from me?" Brian snarked.

"You have to admit that twelve hours together is plenty."

Brian smiled and nodded his head. "It was fabulous, Mel. Let's not do it again anytime soon."

Melanie chuckled. "Count on it, Kinney." Justin came into the bedroom. "He's all yours," she said and quickly left the room.

"How'd it go?" Justin asked as he walked over and felt Brian's forehead.

"I much prefer a kiss to you surreptitiously taking my temperature."

"There was nothing surreptitious about it. I was taking your temperature. You feel almost normal."

"Fuck normal! I'm fine."

Justin laughed. "Normal means you are fine. This is a big improvement from when I left this morning. You could barely sit up, and here you are sitting at a table eating your dinner."

"Yeah, major achievement," Brian snarked.

"Well, it is a big step."

"I'm fine," Brian stated.

"Glad to hear it."

"So how was work? Is 4Front still in business?"

"Of course it is. I worked out the logistics of the campaign for Dawson and worked out a payment agreement. He was pretty mortified about his check bouncing. He promises to make good if we can help to get his business rolling again."

"I hope you got that in writing."

"I did, and I finalized the ads for Donovan Cleaners. He's happy as a pig in shit with the new campaign."

"Think you're pretty smart, don't you?"

Justin nodded his head and smiled at Brian. "I had a good day. How about you?"

"Oh, fucking lovely! My throat was killing me and then I have to be nursed by Melanie fucking Marcus and you go away and leave me here so she can torture me."

"You don't look very tortured. In fact, I'd say you're greatly improved." Justin tried not to look too smug.

Brian studied him for a moment. "Why, you little conniver! You brought Melanie here on purpose. I bet you never even tried to get anyone else to look after me. Did you?" Brian demanded.

"Well, you'd walk all over everyone else," Justin admitted.

"Debbie?"

"She really couldn't get anyone to take her shift."

"So you sicced good old Mel on me."

"Something like that. You're up and feeling better, aren't you?"

Grudgingly, Brian had to admit that he was. He wasn't sure what Melanie Marcus actually had to do with it, but he did feel better.

"Did you and Mel get along?" Justin asked.

"Better than I would have thought."

"Really?" Justin asked with a smile.

"She makes great chicken soup."

"There's more of it in the fridge for tomorrow," Melanie said as she came back in the room.

"Shit! I thought you went home," Brian griped. He didn't like Melanie to hear his compliments.

"Don't worry, I'm leaving. I packed up my papers and things. Just came up to say goodbye."

"Good night, Mel. And thanks for doing this," Justin told her.

"I'd say you're welcome, but…"

"Can it, Marcus," Brian told her. "You know you enjoyed every minute of me being sick and helpless."

Melanie snickered. "Of course I did. Why else would I have agreed to do this?"

"Why indeed?" Brian repeated.

"So, do you think you can manage on your own tomorrow, or should I come back?"

"I'll be fine by myself," Brian declared hastily.

"I'll let you know in the morning. Thanks again, Mel," Justin said.

"I'll be fine," Brian said again. "You won't need to come back."

"We'll see," Justin countered.

"Okay, goodnight, boys," Melanie called as she breezed out the door.

Brian waited until he heard the front door open and close before he said anything else. "I can be by myself tomorrow," he stated again. "In fact, I think I'll go in to 4Front."

"We'll see about you being on your own tomorrow when we get up. However, you are definitely not going to work tomorrow, so forget it."

"But I could do it," Brian protested.

"And then you'd have a relapse."

"No, I wouldn't," Brian whined.

"Do I need to call Mel back here to straighten you out?"

"No, no," Brian said quickly. "Anything but that."

"Then behave yourself."

"Okay, I'll be good."

"Ready to go back to bed?"

"I think I could watch some TV if you helped me down the stairs."

"You feel up to it?"

Brian nodded. "Must be that Jewish chicken soup. It has miraculous powers."

"I'll remember that the next time you're sick."

"I'm never being sick again," Brian declared. And he meant it with every fiber of his being.

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