2019-10-15 - Latecomer to the Plague

Jessica almost made it. As everyone else in the world, or Gray Harbor, was recovering from the flu, she finally caught it. And she is not happy. She has stories to do. People to hunt down. And all she's doing is wallowing in self-pity on her houseboat couch. Well, she won't be miserable on her own! Hence a text to Harper to guilt her into bringing supplies. The door is unlocked. Jessicsa doesn't have the strength to worry about thieves.

Jessica knows it wouldn't take more than half a request to get her friend storming the door of the Honeybuns. And that she does. Harper arrives with two full grocery bags and a duffel hanging from her shoulder. She heads into the kitchen with a pause at the sofa to feel Jessica's forehead. "Have you taken your temperature yet? I can tell you from personal experience that it's going to be a bumpy ride. But I'm here, darling. I'll take care of you." That said, she goes into the kitchen to put away a large container of soup, several boxes of popsicles of Jessica's favorite variety, and some containers of juice. From the bags she also pulls several boxes of dayquil and nyquil, a couple of boxes of tissues, and several dvds she brought from home. After pouring a glass of juice, she heads in to where Jessica is camped out and offers her some dayquil along with the glass of juice. "Take the medicine, hot stuff." Once Jessica has complied, and oh, she will comply alright, Harper isn't a hard anything except when someone needs to be cared for when ill. Then she's a force to be reckoned with. "How long have you been sick?" She lowers down to sit on the arm of the sofa beside her best friend.

Somebody is in the room though Jessica finds it hard to focus on the blur of activity and noise. It must be Harper. Or a really compassionate home invastion. "My temperature is over a hundred. I think. It was hard to read. And I may have put the thermometer in the wrong place. How much did you bring?" She would look over at the kitchen but her eyes won't open that far and it would require her to move.

Jessica peers at the offer of juice and drugs. "Typical. The only time anyone calls me hot stuff is when I actually have a temperature." She will take the drugs. "I've been sick since...what time is it?" She checks the time on her phone. "Three days. It's fucking horrible. How did you infect me?"

"Yeah, sweetheart. That will get worse. But I'll be here for you. Do you want soup? A popsicle? You want me to put your head in my lap and play with your hair? Tell me what you need and I'll take care of it." With some of her pluck absent, Jessica is just that much more pathetic and sympathetic. "You're hot stuff all the time. We just haven't found you someone to realize it yet. It'll happen. I have to warn you, both Geoff and I had really horrible dreams with this flu. You're in for it." She reaches out and traces a fingertip through her friend's hair.

"Let's not talk about my love life, I'm miserable enough" Jessica sighs. "Wait, this is going to get worse? Kill me now...or at least after a popsicle." With extreme effort, she lifts her head to allow Harper to offer lap and hair play. "Really horrible dreams? Like, you were together?" A little giggle at her snark which turns into a coughing fit. "Sorry, couldn't resist. How is it going?"

Harper remains on the arm of the sofa and settles back against the sofa while still trailing fingertips through Jessica's lovely hair. "You're not miserable," Harper argues gently. "And there's no shame in wanting someone." More tracing. "If you have what we had, then it's going to get bad. You just have to buckle up for the ride. What kind of popsicle would you like? I got all your favorites. You'll thank me." She smiles. "Pretty damned horrible. Some of them felt real. And Geoff said he had similar. No, silly. We weren't together. I went over early on while he was sick and got him set up, but it hit me pretty hard not long after and -- I don't think I left my house for a week. You need to call anyone at the paper?" Because certainly by now just about everyone there has had it. "Things are good. Library's good. Stop taking care of me while you're sick. I brought over some videos if you want to watch one. I don't know about you, but by the time my fever spiked, I couldn't see straight."

"Aren't you supposed to boost my spirits with hope instead of dire warnings? Try and get me better?" Jessica teases, relaxing into the hair stroking. "Do you have to stop stroking my hair to get a popsicle? If so...I'll have one later." Cough. Another cough. And she'll throw in another cough in case her body hasn't got the message yet that she's ill. "No need to call the paper. I'm still working...just from home. I have important stories to do, Harpo. I can't take time off. People are dying! For real!" A pause. "What movies?"

Harper grins at her weakly teasing friend. "You're right. I'm sure you've hit the worst of it and will feel just fine in a few hours. You'll probably get several stories done by deadline tomorrow. Viruses don't inconvenience my best friend." She nods once to the fact that she'll have to stop petting Jessica to get a popsicle. She'll take one later. Harper gets up, stopping said petting, circles around and settles down on the other side of the sofa, then pats her lap in invitation. When Jessica resettles with her head there, Harper resumes the gentle hair tracing. "Oh, that cough sounds incredibly healthy. Good job, Jessica's-Immune-System. You're whipping the flu. Rah rah." Harper lists a few movie titles. She knows her friend, what she likes and brought several titles that would be popular if Jessica was feeling better. "People are always dying, darling. We both know this. I'm sure Kevin would take over anything time sensitive for you."

Jessica listens to the pep talk before a weak, "Bitch." It's as much of a teasing tone as she can manage. The journalist making a huge drama of the slight movement required to lay her head on Harper's lap. Has she turned into a man? "Princess Bride. That seems apt." A little snort about Kevin taking on her stories. "I don't think he even comes to work anymore. He's up to something with Magnolia and keeping me out of the loop. If I believed in conspiracy theories... And, yes, people die every day, but I'm talking about murder."

"That's me. Completely a bitch. You know me so well, sweetheart. And you get so cranky when you're sick. It's cute." Harper smiles down at the reclined Jessica. "Princess Bride, then." She won't get up to put the movie in until Jessica insists she do so. The journalist just reclined, after all. "Are you actually saying Kevin's not coming to work, or is that just cranky-pants Jessica talking?" She quirks a brow. "What are they up to?" She starts a casual braid in Jessica's hair, her fingers moving slowly and gently.

Harper is allowed to get up to put the movie on...as long as she's quick! "Am I being cranky? Sorry." Jessica lets out a little sigh as she returns to relaxing on the lap of the goddess. "I don't know what Kevin's doing or what he's up to. It's probably not good...for him at least. Fuck, why do I even care? He's happy doing whatever he's doing so good luck to them." A smirk at what is happening on the screen. "So. I'm Fred Savage, and you're Columbo. I might make you tell me a story if you're not careful."

Harper puts in the movie, then, setting all the components to their correct settings and leaving the volume medium low. She turns off a few lights and returns to the couch. "Are you cold?" She's definitely retrieving a blanket and a couple of popsicles before sitting back down and tucking Jessica in. She has to start the braid over but does so quickly enough. Harper isn't fearful of being close to Jessica while the woman is sick. She's quite certain she already had whatever Jessica is suffering now. More hair smoothing and then some braiding again. "Are you achy yet? How long have you had a fever?" She listens, watches the opening of the movie. "How do you know he's off gallavanting around when he should be working? Is he missing deadlines?" Because Harper's all about Kevin and Magnolia having their fun. "You at least know he's happy. That's something." She smiles. "Okay. You're Fred Savage. I'm Peter Falk. And I'll tell you all the stories you want to hear. That's kind of my wheelhouse." She smooths fingertips along the side of Jessica's face. "You're going to get through this just fine, chickadee. Do your parents know you're sick?"

"Don't tell my parents. Please. I don't want them here every five minutes. Or mom telling me I have to move back home because I have the flu. Heck, I think they'd want me to move back in regardless. Promise me, Harpo, no calling the parents." Jessica has put her foot down...while moaning softly in pain. She'll definitely take the blanket; it is warm with love. "I think the fever started a couple of days ago. The aches yesterday. I never knew I had so many joints that could hurt." A look of guilt on her face for a moment. "I think it's just the flu-bitterness talking, Harpo. He's probably writing more than I ever do. He'll be using a pseudonym like 'Aunt Hilda' and doing an advice column. Tell me a story, Harpo."

"So long as you stay out of the hospital, I'll keep them out of the loop. But you break that barrier, I'm not making any promises, beautiful." Smoothing fingers, light enough that they don't contribute to the aches. "You waited a couple of days to call me when you got sick? What kind of friendship is this, anyway?" Teasing words, though Harper doesn't like that Jessica has been suffering in solitude all on her own. "Where'd you get the flu? Did someone at work have it? Because I'm pretty sure I haven't seen you since before I got sick." She murmurs a quiet sound of placating. "My poor flu-embittered Jessica. Here. Eat this popsicle before it melts. The cold will feel good." She unwraps said popsicle and offers it to the journalist. "If Kevin used a pseudonym it would be a vaguely ironic pseudonym that spelled out another more complex pseudonym."

"You mean a pseudonym like 'I'm not Kevin'? I'll stay out of the hospital." Which probably means that she won't go there even if she needs to. Jessica may be a little stubborn. "You had just got better and you're building things with Geoff. I refused to call until it was an absolute necessity. And, yeah, you're probably not the source of the flu but you were the only one I knew. We may not see each other physically but we have a connection all the time. And that connection made me ill." She realises she is tlking rubbish so will shut up by enjoying a popsicle. "Ooh! Cold...cold. But good. I might have got it when I went out at night to talk to the ADA Cassidy. Clarissa showed up later. Remember her, the Black Satin Widow? Some other people were there too. Might have been any of them. That ADA is pretty hot."

"Perhaps not that ironic," Harper replies with a fond smile. Harper and Jessica are two peas in a pod when it comes to being stubborn. It's part of the complex tangle of reasons they get along so well. "I promise. No parents unless you tip the fever scale past one-oh-three. Then, all bets are off." Because Harper will have Jessica to the emergency room so fast her ... already spinning head willl spin more if it gets to that point. "I'm certainly not the only one you know," she argues mildly. "But you can blame me. I can handle the heat." She watches Jessica eat the popsicle with a pleased expression. "Have you been ignoring this for the past few days or have you been a good girl and had plenty of fluids? I don't want to risk you getting dehydrated." ADA Cassidy. Harper is used to Jessica getting around and having her fingers on the pulse of events in the small town, but now and again Jessica's ability to hobnob with the elite startles her. "Did you ask this Cassidy-hot-ADA-person out?" She then frowns, "Clarissa Robbins? The chairperson of the Gray Harbor Historical Society? She's the Black Satin Widow? I met her this last summer at the library. She was trying to plan a fundraising event. I had no idea."

"Could you make it one-oh-four?" That's a good compromise, right? "I had plenty of fluids." She can't lie to her best friend. "Okay, I could have had more, but I was on a story. You know how focused I get." Jessica manages to turn her head enough to give Harper a 'look'. "Of course I didn't ask her out. It was a professional conversation. Dating a cop or such would not be a very good idea for a journalist. Conflict of interest up the wazoo." A sigh as she looks batk to the televsion. "At least I'd have something up the wazoo. Christ-Muhammad, what is this flu making me say? You remember the story about Clarissa, don't you? Her husband died under suspicious circumstances. She was cleared but there's still lots of gossip. And she is such a snob."

"I'll budge to one-oh-three-point-five," Harper allows. "But point-six and we're on our way to the hospital. No playing, Jess." Harper smiles softly as Jessica amends her truthiness. "So," she points to the tumbler of juice, "Before bed tonight you're going to finish that. It'll make the difference between point-five and point-six. No arguing." She shrugs as she gazes down at her febrile friend, playing with her hair as the movie continues on its merry way. "Okay. Work's work. I get that. But drinks sometime? Nothing wrong with drinks." Harper adjusts Jessica's blanket. "You and your wazoo stuffing. I'm not going to knock it but I'm not sure it's for me. No... no I didn't remember the story. How long ago did this happen? And yes, she was definitely snobbish when she visited the library. Though I think I knocked her off her horse when I offered to help with reearch."

"One-oh-three-point-five then." It is agreed. These two could solve the Middle East crisis. Any crisis. Jessica eyes off the juice. "Fine, I'll drink it all before I enter my coma. Harpo, I don't know how to be fluid. I barely know how to be straight. Asking a woman I just met if she wanted to go out for drinks...is that how it's done? I really don't know. Fuck I am terrible socially." Her brow furrows. "Wait...which one is the wazoo. Umm...it was last year? I wrote articles about it. Guess you didn't read them." She would be playfully insulted if she had the energy. "She rode into the library on a horse? I'm not surprised. Probably had her chauffeur leading it."

There a reason there's never a crisis between the best friends from high school. "Yes. Yes you will," she agrees with a smile. "Of course you know how to be fluid. I think you just don't trust yourself to be that way. You're being cautious. Cautious is okay. You'll know when the time is right to be bold. In the meantime you're being a magnificent friend and a stellar journalist. Welcome to life as we know it. You are not socially tragic." Harper chides gently. "You feel terrible right now, so you're transferring that feeling to your beliefs about life in general right now. You're just going to have to trust that I know what's best while you feel shitty." Harper looks more than a little upset that she would have forgotten a story Jessica has written. She pays attention to them all. "I'm sorry I forgot, Jessica. Sometimes the deaths and murders remind me a little too much of dad, you know?" Her father who died tragically (and with no small amount of gore in the master bathroom of her home) on her eighteenth birthday.

"You're a magnificent friend too. And a stellar librarian. Way too few people know how awesome you are. A billion would be too few people. Who else would drop everything to come to a plague ward?" Jessica snuggles into her friend's lap. "And lie so wonderfully to make her feel better. One day I will ask someone out. Maybe even a woman of the female gender. Promise. I just have to get a few stories done first." The talk of Harper's father has her wincing. "Sorry, Harpo, I didn't mean to bring that up. Forgive me? He would be so proud of the shining soul you are."

Harper resumes her gentle fingering of Jessica's dark hair. "Oh the lovely compliments. We passed by grumpy and went to fawning at some point. Do you want some soup?" If Harper /didn't/ drop everything for Jessica something would be very wrong. "I'm not lying, darling. It's the honest truth." She nods slowly. Yes, Jessica will ask someone out one day. A 'woman of the female persuasion' causes Harper to laugh. "Usually it works that way, yes." Getting a few stories done first? Harper arches a brow and murmurs mildly, "We'll see." She shakes her head slowly and traces fingertips over Jessica's soft cheek. "There's nothing to forgive. And if I knew billions of people I'd never keep up with baked-good deliveries. Best to keep things as they are. Would you like me to draw you a bath?"

"I'd love some soup...just not right now." Jessica yawns as the flu does its evil upon her. Your baked goods are the best. I'm so glad I know you, Harpo." Her words slurring a little as she starts to close consciousness. "I didn't know you could draw. Your talents are endless." That may have been the last snark she had in her. "Stay over?"

"Soup later," Harper translates from all that. "I love you too, Jessica." She laughs briefly at the play on words from her ill friend. "Bath later, too, it sounds like. Of course I'll stay. How could I leave you to be sick all on your own without feeling compelled to call your parents? I'll have to work tomorrow, but I'll come home over lunch and check on you." She points to the duffle bag she brought. "I even brought work clothes with me and some pj's."