This story has not been beta-ed, so all errors are my own. Just a little something. No biggie. :-)

Rollie sighed and moved the damp washcloth over Angie's forehead. She looked so... innocent and young, like the little girl he'd met over a decade ago. You'd never know how troublesome she'd been a short while ago as she told him bluntly that she didn't need him to take care of her. She could take care of herself, thank you very much, Mister Tyler. Of course, her fever hadn't been quite as high then, either. There was a flu epidemic sweeping the city. The hospitals were being overwhelmed by the elderly and children that had caught it. This year's flu shot seemed to have little, if any, effect against this particular strain. Rollie had called their doctor on the phone. The man sounded a bit overwhelmed with work, and distracted, told Rollie to give her something for the headache and fever, to get fluids into her and try and cool her off. He also told Rollie to check her temperature regularly and if it got over 102 to call him immediately. Fortunately, or unfortunately, the film they were working on was also shut down by the epidemic since the director and a couple of the main actors had caught it. So Rollie Tyler could stay put and take care of Angela Ramirez... even if she didn't want him to do it. The Aussie had absolutely no intention of budging from her side, until she was better.

Chiops mewed and leapt onto the bed, moving up beside his mistress. He rubbed his head against Rollie's arm, then circling carefully, pressed his body tightly against her opposite side, laying his head on her shoulder.

"Looks like it's you and me for the long run, Ch'ops," Rollie muttered to the cat, reaching over to scratch gently behind his ears. He rested the back of his hand against Angie's forehead, checking her fever the same way he remembered his mum doing. Still high, but he didn't think it was any higher than the last time he'd tested it with the thermometer. Good thing it was one of those digital ones you placed on the forehead. He had a feeling Angie wouldn't be cooperative if he'd tried to stick one in her mouth. He got up to refill the glass of juice on Angie's bed side table, ready to coach her into drinking it the next time she woke up a bit. Really, the lanky man thought, sleep is the best thing for her. Eventually, she'd sleep herself out, the fever would go down and she'd yell at him some more. Good thing, he'd restocked her kitchen early on, when he first realized the blonde was getting sick. That meant he wouldn't have to go out for anything. Of course, if he had forgotten something, he'd get it delivered. There wasn't any way he was leaving her alone! Rollie settled back down into the hard chair and stretched his long legs out, patiently waiting, wiping her face with the damp cloth.

Later, Angie's restless movements drove Chiops out of her bed. He disappeared under it with an offended chirrup. Rollie stroked her hair, gently and spoke soothingly, nonsense words to calm her down and telling her it was all right. She was all right. He took her temperature again and squinted at the numbers, trying to see in the dimness of her bed light. Good, it was down a bit. The brown haired man gently coaxed her up a bit and gave her some Tylenol and juice. Angie fell back asleep without ever really waking up.

Rollie stood and stretched stiffened muscles. When she finally woke all the way up, Angie was going to yell at him. He wasn't sure yet, but he might just yell back at her. After all, what was he suppose to do? Ignore her illness, leave her alone to fend for herself?!? Certainly not, and if Angela Ramirez thought that of him, too right, she had better think again! He wandered out into the living room and peered out the window at the night. The Australian special effects wizard sighed deeply. Why was it so hard for Angie to accept his help and attention? Loubar had come along and messed them up royally, but he thought they'd finally worked beyond that. Maybe they hadn't? He fretted about that, even more than he did about Angie's sickness. She was better, the fever no longer so high. She hadn't screamed his name in horror while sleeping and hadn't hit him. She might when she woke up, he thought with a tiny smile. Rollie couldn't stop, couldn't turn off the love and care he felt for Angie, Loubar or no Loubar. She was his sister, his family. You took care of family, as simple as that. Angie would do the same if he was this sick, the man thought defensively. Or maybe... she wouldn't? Not any more, any way. Maybe she couldn't really stand his presence for that long. Maybe he was too big of a reminder. Maybe... Maybe she just wished he would go away and leave her alone to get on with her life... He hunched his shoulders down, uncertain and feeling lost. He hated the uncertainty that filled him! Rollie silently watched the night pass, lost in his thoughts, but his ears open to the slightest sound or hint of movement in Angie's bedroom.

Periodically, Rollie went in and checked Angie, checking her fever with hand or thermometer. He was pleased to find it even lower. Definitely on the mend now. In the pre dawn hours, he settled into the hard chair and stretched his legs in front of him again, still brooding, but very aware of Angie's movements. Finally, long hours of work and nursing caught up with the exhausted man and he fell asleep.

Angie Ramirez woke with a soft moan. Oh, she ached. She could feel where the fever had been deep in her muscles. Damn! She had really been sick. Still, she felt better now. A soft sound, an almost soundless susurration of breathe, caused her to look to her left. Angie groaned, oh great! Rollie had stayed and taken care of her. Even after she'd specifically ordered him to leave. The blonde had been afraid, deeply afraid, that under the influence of the flu she would say something... something awful, unforgivable, even to her patient, ever willing to forgive anything, Aussie partner. Ever since Loubar had tricked her, she'd been afraid of subconsciously hurting Rollie even more than that bastard had. That he hurt, she didn't doubt. That she could cause him even more harm, she knew. What was the saying, you always hurt the one you love? Well, she loved Rollie, he was her family. And she knew all too well, how easy it would be for her to hurt him. As, if truth were told, she realized, he knew how to hurt her. They'd both done it, accidentally, and they'd both forgiven the other.

Angie examined her partner, watching him sleep. He looked so tired and worn. And that chair! It couldn't be comfortable for the tall Aussie, sleeping in that hard chair. Why had he dragged the hardest chair in the room by her bed? Why not one of the nicer ones with cushions? Maybe they weren't as comfortable as some, but any of them had to be better than the hard wood of the one he'd picked. The blonde wondered how long he'd been there and just how long he'd been asleep. Knowing Rollie, not for very long. She wanted reach out and soothe the lines where his eyebrows were puckered together, clearly showing his worry. Rollie was suppose to be laughing and smiling, not all scrunched up with worry and what? Oh no! Maybe she had said something? Maybe, but if she had, Rollie would never say so. He'd just bundle it up and put it deep into his aching heart. She'd seen him do that a time or two, that first time with Taia and before with her, shortly after she'd decided he was okay and a friend. Soon enough, he would laugh again and smile, but she knew the pain he'd buried behind some of the laughs and smiles. She'd seen it, spying on him from above that time when she'd unwittingly hurt him and he'd cried, silently and alone. Angie Ramirez had felt so unhappy that night, watching the Australian, her new friend, cry his silent tears. His tears had surprised her, for she'd often been scornfully told that boys don't cry. She'd vowed she wouldn't either and she hadn't... Not until she realized that while some boys might not cry, some men could and did. She'd been ashamed of violating his privacy. Yeah, she thought, like he had any in the tiny corner under the stairs that was his "room" while he'd stayed with them until he could get his own apartment. The next day, she'd baked a cake, a small one, her first attempt alone. The peace offering had leaned to one side and was lumpy. It probably tasted horrible, but Rollie had eaten every bite and smiled happily at her. There had been no trace of his pain or tears and Angie knew he'd forgiven her. Later, her father had told her that it was because Rollie was homesick and lonely, not because of what she'd done. She'd never really believed her dad's words. Thirteen years later, she still didn't think he was right, or at least not completely. Perhaps it was both his lonely homesickness and the pain she'd inflicted?

Angie smiled to herself, thinking. Why not? It was day and time to be up. She wanted a shower to wash off the sticky feeling and something to eat. Surely, Rollie would want something too. As silently as she could, the blonde slipped from her bed and padded to the bathroom. The warmth of the shower removed much of the fever ache and she felt pretty good as she headed for her small kitchen. Chiops followed her with his tail held high, eager to eat. Positive Angie would feed him, first and foremost.

Rollie started awake. What? He reached over to check on Angie, but realized she was up. Uh oh! Now, would come the yelling, he thought with resignation. With a silent groan, he stood and stretched his six foot two length. Stiff from sleeping in the chair, he moved cautiously out into his partner's apartment. Sound and smell drew him toward the kitchen. Something sure smelled good. He sniffed appreciatively. Pity, Angie surely wouldn't offer him any, but if she felt well enough to be cooking, he could probably go. Perhaps, if he got out quick, he could delay the row for a day or so. He sneaked a peak in the kitchen, checking that Angie really was all right. Seeing she was doing fine and fussing over Chiops, he turned to sneak out.

"Hold it right there, Rollie Tyler!"

Angie's words effectively froze the Aussie, his hand touching the doorknob. Bloody hell. It wasn't fair! It just wasn't fair. His shoulders drooped in defeat, Rollie turned to face the music. He studiously looked at his feet, refusing to look up and see Angie's anger.

Seeing Rollie's defensive posture hurt. He seldom reacted that way to her. Damn it! Why wouldn't he look up? She marched over to stand in front of him, making it impossible for the man to avoid looking at her. Rollie kept his eyes down and Angie reached out to gently push his hair back. "Rollie, you idiot. Why did you stay?"

The words were about what he expected, but the tone... the tone was gentle and compelling. Rollie sighed and shifted slightly. "You were sick."

"Yes, but I told you I would be fine and you should go. Why? Rollie, I can take care of myself!"

"I know," Rollie answered in a tiny voice, "but you were really sick and... You'd do the same for me?"

The words were more a question than the certain statement they should have presented. "Rollie." Angie stroked the scar on his left cheek and Rollie unconsciously pressed against her fingers, much as Chiops would have done. "You're right, I would."

The Australian looked slightly startled and smiled at her. Maybe he wouldn't get yelled at after all.

"Thank you.' Angie squirmed slightly. "Um, I... uh, I didn't say anything... um... you know..."

Rollie frowned in puzzlement, wondering what Angie was dancing around. "No, I don't know. Actually, you didn't say anything except to say you could take care of yourself just fine without me and to get out." He couldn't completely hide the hurt that he felt. He took a deep breath. "That was at the beginning, before you..."

"Before I got sicker." Angie finished ruefully. "I'm sorry, Rollie. I was wrong. I did need you." She waited a moment for him to respond and when he didn't, she sighed deeply. "I never should have said that. I'll always need you, Rollie. You're my family!" She reached out and hugged Rollie tightly. "I will always need you, Rollie Tyler. Don't you ever let me forget that!"

Rollie warmed by the words, the ache slipping away, smiled warmly and hugged her back. "Just don't forget, I need you too, Angela Ramirez."

"I won't," Angie promised, her words muffled by Rollie's chest.

Rollie released Angie. "I, um, I'll get out of your hair, now. Since you're better. You go ahead and eat and get some more rest. We won't be working for a while yet. You're weren't the only one to come down with this stuff."

"Oh?" Angie grabbed his hand and tugged him to the kitchen.

Somewhat reluctantly, Rollie trailed his shorter assistant and sat down when she pushed him to a chair. "Yeah, our illustrious director and perfect stars have it too."

"Well, what do you know, maybe there is some justice in the world." Angie smiled wickedly. The director and the movie's stars had been a pain in Tyler FX's collective rear since day one.

Rollie tried not to laugh, he shouldn't be encouraging her. "Well, I expect it will take them longer to... recuperate."

"Considering they're spoiled rotten and probably hypochondriacs to boot? You better believe it, boss!" Angie put out plates, bowls and glasses. She placed a pitcher of water and a carton of orange juice out, then served up the chicken noodle soup she'd made. Not from the can either, Angie thought gleefully. She'd had the stock in the freezer just waiting to be heated up and served. "Eat up." She added some biscuits and watched carefully to make sure Rollie was eating, before digging eagerly into her own serving. She was starved!

Apparently, her boss was too, because he ate two big servings and over half the biscuits. Sated, he leaned back slightly and smiled. "That was delicious, Ange. Thank you."

Angie grinned. "Hope you saved some room, Rol." She got up and opened the oven. Using a mitt, because it was still warm, she pulled out a muffin pan full of cupcakes.

Rollie's eyes lit up as he saw the treat. "I think I can make some room."

Wishing she'd had time to make the icing, Angie carefully covered two of them with butter frosting. It was a good thing she'd had the can of the store bought icing. She passed one to him, then licked some stray frosting off of her finger. The blonde watched with delight as Rollie carefully peeled the cup from the cake. He licked it clean of frosting and crumbs before turning to the cake itself. Rollie's eyes closed in pleasure as he took a bite of the warm cake. Taking a bite of her own, she smiled as Rollie discovered the chocolate chips she'd dropped into the batter. It was like watching a little boy eating the cupcake and she hoped he never grew up. Rollie was in seventh heaven over the fresh baked sweet.

"Better than the first cake I ever baked for you?"

Rollie paused in the midst of a bite. He might not know much about women, but he recognized a loaded question when he heard it. "Sweetie, all of your cakes are perfect. I love every bite."

Angie gave him a skeptical look, then grinned. "Bet you say that to all the girls," she responded, teasing.

"No, all the girls don't bake me cakes, luv. Only you and my mum ever did that," Rollie answered. "Thank you."

Angie was surprised. Looking deep into Rollie's brown eyes, she felt warm through and through. "Any time, Rollie, any time at all."

The friends shared loving smiles and the cupcakes, at peace with each other. Ready to take on whatever life threw at them next... together.