A Place To Stay

In Sickness and In Health

Cliff was woken in the middle of the night by Claire getting out of bed. He listened to her pad quietly into the kitchen, open a cabinet, turn on the sink, and then come back in just as quietly. He whispered through the darkness to her. “Are you okay, honey?”

Claire’s voice sounded a little scratchy. “My throat hurts,” she whispered back. “Maybe I was just thirsty, so I drank a little water. It’ll probably feel fine when I wake up in the morning.”

But, when Claire awoke in the morning, it did not feel all better. In fact, it felt much worse. She tried to play it off like it wasn’t that bad, but Cliff could tell that she didn’t really feel well, so he made her stay in bed. “You can’t go out in the cold if you’re sick.” Claire tried to protest, but he cut her off. “No, I’m not going to let you. I can take care of everything today.” He tucked her back into bed and smiled down on her sweetly. “You just rest, and I’ll get you some breakfast.” He kissed her forehead and went out in the kitchen.

Once he got there, he hesitated for a moment, pondering what the best thing to give her was if she didn’t feel good. Claire had never really been sick before, so he wasn’t sure. He finally settled on hot tea and oatmeal, which he prepared with just a little difficulty, burning himself twice. He made enough for himself too, and then took it into her, sitting cross legged on the bed with her and eating as well. She thanked him profusely after they finished, and then tried to convince him she was well enough to go outside. He just shook his head and took her empty dish. She laid back on the bed and pouted.

When he returned to check on her, however, Claire had fallen back asleep. Cliff quietly put on his coat and shoes, then slipped out to tend to the animals. After he finished, he went back in to check on her. She was still sound asleep, but she had a pained look on her face, and her hair was wet around her face. He quickly warmed his hands and then felt her forehead. Just as he had thought, she was burning up. Cliff went to the bathroom and got a washcloth wet, then wrung it out. He laid it across Claire’s forehead, remembering faintly that his mother had done that to him when he had a fever once. Claire stirred a little as he placed the cool material, but did not wake.

Cliff decided it was time to visit the Doctor. He whispered where he was going to Claire, just in case she could hear, and then departed. Before long, he reached the Clinic. Elli and Doctor were surprised to see him by himself, and he explained about Claire’s illness. Doctor nodded. “That seems to be going around right now. Stu and May both have it, as well as everyone at the supermarket. Here, I’ll give you the same kind of medicine that they’re all taking.” Elli went to fetch it, and came back holding a small glass bottle filled with a thick purple liquid. “This should help with the pain, and bring down her fever,” Doctor told Cliff. “Just one teaspoonful every four hours.”

Cliff nodded, absorbing the information. Elli put it in a paper bag for him, and promised to come by later with soup. Cliff was relieved, because the one dish he could make, spaghetti, didn’t seem appropriate now. He thanked them and went on his way.

On the way back, he stopped in at Aja Winery. Manna greeted him happily, and started to launch into one of her epic stories, but Cliff cut her off as politely as he could, only concerned about his wife. “Manna, I know you guys sometimes get other fruits shipped in to make special juices. Do you have any oranges?” She nodded, telling him he was in luck, and he explained that Claire was sick and he wanted to make orange juice for her. In his travels, he had come across a town where there were several orange groves, and had taken on some odd jobs there for money. The owner had told him that she always got over illnesses quickly because she drank orange juice every day. Manna gave him a bag with about 8 oranges in it, and Cliff moved a hand to his pocket, to motion to pay, but Manna waved it off. “Just tell Claire I hope she gets well soon.” Cliff thanked her, and returned home.

Claire was awake when he went in the house. She had laid the wet cloth aside, and was sitting up slightly. He went to her and told her about the things he had gotten. Claire smiled weakly but gratefully at him. Cliff got a spoon and shakily measured out the medicine, then gave it to her. Claire made a slight face as she swallowed it, but didn’t complain. Cliff then went into the kitchen. He got a knife and sliced two of the oranges in half, then squeezed them out as much as he could into a bowl. He poured the resulting juice into a glass, and took it to Claire. She accepted it happily, pleased that he went to so much trouble for her. She drank it all down, then he tucked her back in. He took the cloth and rewet it, then placed it back on her forehead to cool her fever. He hoped that the medicine would do its job as well.

Claire fell back asleep quickly, and Cliff watched her sleep. Even in sickness, she was so beautiful to him. He couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. He watched her for a while more, then went into the living room, settling down on the couch with a book.

A few hours later, there was a quiet knock at the door. It was Elli, delivering soup as promised. She went in and ministered to her best friend, acting very nurse like as she fluffed the pillows and took her temperature. Claire accepted the soup and ate slowly. Elli turned to go. She spoke to Cliff, “How long has it been since you gave her that medicine?”

Cliff glanced at the clock. “Almost four hours.”

“Good, then give her another dose when she gets finished eating. And there’s enough soup for you as well. Call us at the Clinic if you need anything else.” Elli lowered her voice. “Take care of my girl. And this should go without saying, but since it’s you, I’ll tell you anyway. No sex! She needs to rest.”

Cliff blushed and looked at the ground. “I wasn’t going to bother her with that,” he said sheepishly.

Elli folded her arms. “Sure you weren’t. Anyway, don’t. I’ll see you later.”

After Elli left, Cliff ate some soup as well. Claire finished hers, and he gave her some more of the medicine. He cleared up the dishes, then went back to Claire. “Do you need anything?” Claire shook her head, then smiled and laid back down. She was already starting to look a little better, but not much. Cliff went back to reading his book, and soon it was time for bed. He took a shower and got into his pajamas, then slid into bed next to her. He found her hand under the covers and squeezed it. “Good night, Claire. I love you.” He rolled on his side towards her, and tried to fall asleep.

He couldn’t though, and he laid awake for quite some time. Claire’s voice came to him out of the darkness. “Cliff? Do you need something…?”

Cliff fidgeted. “No…” although he knew full well what he needed.

Claire stretched out one small hand and stroked him below the waist. “Do you need this?”

Cliff groaned happily, and as much as it pained him, he moved her hand away. “Urg…Elli told me we can’t do that until you’re better. You need to use all your strength for getting well.”

Claire giggled softly, her voice still slightly scratchy. “That Elli. Still…maybe if you do all the work, it won’t be bad for me.”

Cliff trembled a little. “You mean…?”

“Mmm hmm. I think it would be…kind of sexy. You just do it and I’ll be right here.” She reached out and tucked his bangs behind his ears.

Cliff hesitated a little, slightly embarrassed, but very thrilled. He hadn’t done it in so long, since Claire kept him completely satisfied. He worked his pajama pants and boxers below his hips, and started stroking himself. The bed shook slightly from the movement, and Claire sighed happily. She traced her hand down his neck and over his shoulders, encouraging him to continue. They could just barely see each other in the moonlight, and her eyes were locked on what he was doing. He grunted as the pressure built up. It wasn’t as good as being inside of her, but it was really arousing to him that she wanted to see him do this. He closed his eyes and bit his lip in concentration as he brought himself close to the edge, then he realized he was going to need something first. He opened his eyes again, and saw Claire holding out a balled up tissue, that she must have been holding onto in case she needed to sneeze. Cliff gave a short laugh as he took it from her with his free hand. Claire always thought of everything. He gritted his teeth and refocused, and in seconds he was releasing, waves of pleasure washing over his body. He caught his breath, and Claire took the tissue away from him, dropping it in the wastebasket. She cuddled up close to him, her heavy breathing showing that she had enjoyed watching him, and they fell asleep together.

Two days later, Claire was well again. She buzzed around the house with renewed vigor, happy to feel like herself again. That night, as they were eating dinner, Cliff made a face as he swallowed his food. “What’s wrong, honey?” Claire asked him. “Does it taste bad?”

Cliff shook his head. “Your curry never tastes bad. It just tastes really spicy or something. My throat is kind of burning.”

Claire groaned. “Oh honey, I hope you’re not getting sick now.”

Cliff grinned and kept eating. “Nah, I don’t get sick.”

Early the next morning, Claire was awoken by Cliff making pitiful noises. Just as she had predicted, he was sick. Claire soon learned that her husband being sick was a very pathetic thing. He whined and moaned about how bad he felt, and was a very difficult patient. She realized that because he was never sick, he was very intolerant of any kind of discomfort.

Cliff struggled to sit up as she brought him a steaming bowl of carrot soup. His long brown hair was loose, a tangled mess, matted with feverish sweat. “I think I’m dying,” he moaned as he took the soup bowl from her.

“You’re not dying, silly; you’re just sick. You’ll get better soon,” Claire assured him.

“I want to get better now,” he whined. Claire just patted him on the head and went to get the bottle of medicine that was left over from her illness. She came back just as he was setting the empty soup bowl on the nightstand. He spotted the bottle of medicine in her hand, and slid back down in bed, hiding under the covers. “Come on, you have to take this,” Claire urged him.

“No.” Cliff’s muffled voice said from under the covers.

Claire shook her head, coming forward and pulling the covers back sharply. He whined and crossed his arms. “Don’t you want to get better?” she asked him. He nodded, pouting. “Then you have to take this. It tastes bad, but you’ll get better faster.”

Cliff sulked for a while longer, and then finally let her give some to him. He whimpered pitifully as he swallowed it, then pulled the covers over himself again. “Now I really am dying,” he whined.

Claire just laughed lightly, pulling the covers back enough to kiss him on the head. She cleared away the dishes. When she came back to check on him, he was sound asleep. She smiled and curled up on the couch, watching TV.

A few hours later, she heard him whining from the bedroom. She went to see what he wanted. Cliff had the covers pulled up over his nose, so that just his eyes were visible. He looked at her with puppy dog eyes, and whispered, “Will you make me some hot chocolate?” Claire smiled and nodded, and she could tell by his eyes that he was smiling too. She prepared enough for both of them, then she snuggled under the covers with him and they sipped it together. When they finished, much to his dismay, she presented him with another dose of medicine, but he took it with less protest this time.

That night, Claire changed into her pajamas and slipped into bed with him. “Good night, honey. I love you,” she whispered, kissing him on the forehead. She tried to fall asleep, but she could feel him fidgeting, and then he sighed loudly. “What’s wrong, honey?” she asked.

“I’m horny,” he whined. “But I feel so weak.”

Claire stroked his arm. “It’s okay. When you get better, we can have all the sex you want, all right?”

“But…but, I’m horny NOW.” He grabbed her hand and placed it on his hardness to prove his point.

Claire giggled and said, “I see that. Well…how about I do all of the work this time?” Cliff agreed happily, and Claire quickly removed her pajamas, then tugged off his pajama pants and boxers. She straddled him, and slid his length inside of her carefully. Cliff groaned, and started to thrust up into her. Claire corrected him. “I said I’d do all the work. Don‘t move.” Cliff stilled his hips, and Claire worked herself up and down on him. He sighed in pleasure. She moved in close on him, swiveling her hips slightly, building up pressure. It took a little longer than usually without him doing his thing, but in just a few minutes Claire was able to reach a satisfying climax. Feeling her release resonating into his body was just what he needed, and he bucked his hips upwards as he cried out in ecstasy, spilling inside of her.

His illness-weakened body trembled even more than usual as he recovered, and Claire helped him back into his pajama pants, then put on her own. She pulled the covers over them and snuggled close to him. They both sighed happily, and Cliff didn’t whine any more that night.