Vaggie x Charlie not feeling good

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She had been in the bathroom getting ready for bed, trying to floss. Key word: trying. She was attempting to get the small white thing into her back teeth, cursing under her breath. She had gotten something stuck in her teeth from when Angel made tonight’s dinner of spaghetti. (Who knew he could cook?)
 

 She gave up after a moment, taking a deep breath. She got a ragged inhale of the minty freshness from the floss stick and wheezed, choking on her own breath. She leaned forward as she broke out into a coughing fit, the deep, dry kind that shook your whole throat. She leaned against the counter, gripping the sink. 
  Huh. She guessed she had had a sore, achy throat the last day or so but it was only mildly annoying and scratchy. She just needed to drink more water and stop staying up so late. 
  She couldn’t be getting sick. They had things to do. More things to fix up in the hotel. Charlie wanted to get the exercises up and going again. They still had to deal with a stray reporter or two who wanted to know about the battle, what it was like to kill an angel. The Cannibals were even on TV, displaying new recipes of roasted angel leg or crispy cooked wings from the bodies they collected. Vaggie had always frowned and turned the channel. 
  Long story short, she simply was not allowed to be getting sick. It was prosperous—
   “Vaggie?”
  Her coughing attack took a brief reprieve, then quickly started up again. 
  A pair of hands wrapped around her shoulders, drawing back her hair from her face. She looked up and saw Charlie in the mirror, standing behind her. She had a worried expression plastered on her face. She pressed down her lower back, trying to coax it out.  
  “Come on,” she said. “Let it out.” 
  A moment later, it seemed to listen. Vaggie came back up with heaving breathing and a flushed face. Her throat throbbed painfully. Her head was beginning to ache. Great. 
  Her gaze found Charlie, whose eyes still danced with worry. “Thanks, babe,” she said with a sad attempt at a thumbs up. “I’m good now.”
  Charlie’s brows creased. “Are you sure?”
  “Yep,” she replied, popping the p. 
  As if on cue, a stray cough left her mouth. She groaned and threw her head back. Fuck. 
   Charlie only gave her a small, knowing smile and took her hand, squeezing it. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”
  “But I was going to—”
  Charlie softly shushed her. Vaggie let her lead her to the bed. She watched as Charlie untucked the covers, then stepped aside to let her crawl into bed. Vaggie slid into bed, aware of Charlie’s watchful eye. She laid there, trying to relax, when she was aware of Charlie bringing the covers to her chest, tucking her in. 
  Her cheeks got warmer. “Charlie, I’m not five . I can do that myself.”
  Charlie only hummed. She pressed a kiss to Vaggie’s forehead, running a finger through her hair, then stood and wiped her palms off. “Just go to sleep,” was all she said, turning to go to her side of the bed. “I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning.”

  She did not, in fact, feel better. 
  By the time the familiar sound of Charlie’s alarm went off, she hadn’t even gotten a blink of sleep. Her throat hurt and she had been coughing all night. She could barely breathe through her nose. Her head ached. Her body was uncomfortably warm all over. 
  Charlie awoke after the sixth ring of the alarm, as per usual. She rose with her yawn, turned off the alarm, threw up her arms to stretch, and smiled. Charlie was the only person she knew who smiled at the prospect of getting up at seven in the morning. 
  Of course she was. 
  She turned to face the window, basking in the red-tinted sunlight coming in from the window, feet wiggling. Then she rolled over and greeted Vaggie with a kiss to her scalp, warm breath tickling her ear. “Good morning, Vaggie. We have a biggg day ahead of us.”
  They always did. Vaggie squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. She loved her girlfriend, but she also loved sleeping. 
  Charlie hummed, still smiling. “Vaggie? Come on. We have to get up.” She heard shifting, the rustle of sheets as Charlie sat up. “Do you want crêpes for breakfast? I think I had a dream about them last night. Huh. They sound good.”
  No reply. 
  Charlie let out an amused huff. She leaned over again, breath ticking Vaggie’s face. She was lucky she didn’t have morning breath. “Vaggie.”
  Another kiss pressed to her cheek. 
  Charlie pulled back, frowning. Only then did Vaggie open her eye, blinking back sleep and the sun-streaked haze. 
  “Huh,” she commented. “You’re warm.”
  “Yeah, genius,” she muttered back. “I feel warm.”
  Charlie bit her lip and pressed a hand to Vaggie’s forehead. Vaggie nearly flinched away. “Hey, what are you doing?”
  “Checking how hot you are,” Charlie replied, then blinked. “I mean, you’re always hot, but—”
  Vaggie groaned. “Charlie.”
  She withdrew, smiling. “How do you feel?”
  “Like shit,” Vaggie said honestly. She drew in a sharp breath, coughed, then sat up, nearly pushing Charlie off her. “Okay, let’s go wake up those hooligans and make some fucking crêpes.” 
  She stood up and left the bed, taking a moment to regain her center of gravity. She felt slightly dizzy, like she was tilting to the side. She walked over the dresser, shedding her nightgown and fumbling for her day clothes.  “What are we doing today? More trust exercises? Therapy? Letting them rage and smash shit?”
  Charlie stayed in bed, sitting with her knees to her chest. She was still in her pajamas, her hair messied. She watched Vaggie’s every move. “Are you sure it’s a good idea for you to work today? You’re up for it?”
  “Pfft, yeah. I’m fine.”
  But Charlie wasn’t convinced. “What if you’re contagious?”
  Vaggie flashed her a hard look. “Babe, half the people out there are alcoholics or have done hardcore drugs. Their immune systems are just fine.” 
   “Are you sure—”
  “Come on, now you’re just dragging on this conversation in order to see me topless for longer,” Vaggie deadpanned sarcastically. Charlie’s face went red and Vaggie pulled her usual blouse over her head. “Now, let’s—”
  She stopped mid-sentence, gagging. She was sure her face was green. She ran to the bathroom, slamming the door open, and fell to the floor in front of the toilet. 
  “Vaggie? Are you alright?”
  The sound of retching was her reply. 
  Charlie sighed and made her way into the bathroom. She sat at the edge of the bathroom, behind Vaggie, holding back her long, flowing hair. “Alright. It’s okay,” she whispered. “Get it out.”
  After a moment, the vomiting ceased. Vaggie groaned, gripping the toilet lid. She slammed the seat down and collapsed against it, slobber still coating her upper lip. Frowning, Charlie pulled a tissue out of the box on the counter and wiped it away, pulling up the corner of Vaggie’s lips. 
  She didn’t protest, just leaned against Charlie’s legs, laying her head on her knees. Charlie tck ed her tongue, running one hand through her hair. Her girlfriend was still surprisingly warm. “Do you believe me now? You need to rest.”
   Vaggie opened her mouth to protest. “But—”
  “No ands, ifs, or buts. Let’s get you back to bed, missy.”
  “I’ve never missed a day. I can’t start now,” she whined. 
  “Well, as your boss, and your princess, and your loving girlfriend, I say it’s okay to miss one day. Especially when you’re sick and burning up.”
  “Things will fall apart without me,” Vaggie fought back.
  “It’s not true. I can handle things perfectly—”
  There was a loud CRASH from the loud below, followed by a string of curses and yelling. It seemed their occupants were awake after all. 
  Charlie blinked, clearing her throat. “Okay, that’s completely unrelated.”
   “Charlie. Please.”
  “Vaggie, I can and will fire you—”
  “No,” Vaggie gasped in indignation. “You wouldn’t.”
  “Oh, I would,” Charlie leaned in, her hair tickling Vaggie’s forehead. She laid back on Charlie’s knees, looking up at her from upside down. “And don’t doubt it.”
  Vaggie only sniffed, trying her best to smile. “You know I like it when you’re feisty.”
  “Oh, great, now you’re delirious.”
  Vaggie pouted. “I’m not—”
   Before she knew it, she was being scooped up in Charlie’s arms like a sack of potatoes. She was aware she was being carried back to the bedroom. Bridal style. 
  “Charlie, put me down!”
  “Can’t hear you. You’re too stuffed up.”
  “Or at least save it for the actual wedding,” she muttered under her breath.
 She swore Charlie nearly dropped her. “What?”
  “Nothing.”
  A moment passed and they had reached the foot of the bed. She began to protest again. “Charlie, I’m fine—”
  “Vaggie, I will tie you down to this bed if I have to!”
  “Wow,” Vaggie retorted sarcastically. “Kinky.”
  Another coughing fit overtook her before she could let out another sarcastic comment. Charlie’s face contorted back into worry, her eyes soft. She felt herself being lowered into bed, and knew she was helpless to stop it. 
  Defeated, Vaggie flopped back onto the bed, giving in. Charlie drew the covers to her chin, ignoring the sour look Vaggie gave her in return. “Rest,” she said, commanded, and Vaggie had an image of Charlie dragging her back to bed in front of the others if she fought this. Better stay in bed. 
  She closed her mouth. Charlie hummed, tapping the edge of her nose, then leaning in. “Good girl.”
  She pulled back to Vaggie’s smirk. She rolled her eyes. “Don’t say ‘kinky’ again, I swear to Satan.”
  Vaggie shook her head. “Oh, no, I totally wasn’t—”
  Charlie barked out a short laugh and silenced her with a kiss to her lips. Vaggie almost pulled back in surprise. “Charlie! What if I get you sick?”
  “You won’t,” Charlie replied. “And, if I did, it would give me an excuse to stay in bed all day with you.” 
  She pressed a finger into Vaggie’s collarbone. Vaggie’s cheeks warmed, but she squinted. “Then who would run the hotel?”
  “Alastor would manage it just fine for the day,” Charlie hummed in response. 
  “No,” she said, shaking her head. She frowned deeply at the mere thought of it. “We’re not doing that. Get your ass out there.”
  “Rude,” Charlie gasped in mock shock. “You really wanna get rid of me that much?”
  “Yes. In the most affectionate way possible.” Vaggie turned her head on the pillow, meeting her girlfriend’s gaze. “I love you, but go.”
   “I guess I should get down there before they destroy the lobby,” Charlie said, thinking. “Okay. Rest up. I’ll be up to check on you later. I love you, oh, and—”
  “I love you,” Vaggie laughed, afraid of coughing. “ Go.” 
  “Alright. I’m going,” Charlie said, making sure the covers were tucked around her. She found Vaggie’s hand under the covers and squeezed it, then getting up and hurrying to the door. “Going, going. Bye now.”
  “Bye,” Vaggie rasped. She watched the door click shut and her girlfriend disappear from view, left in the comfort of peaceful, peaceful silence. 


  “Vaggie. Vaggie.” 
  She was shaken awake a few hours later. She wasn’t sure how late it was. There was still light coming in through the window. She rubbed her eyes. Her vision cleared and she was aware of her girlfriend hovering a few feet above her. 
  “Wha?” She murmured. 
  “It’s noon,” Charlie answered, smiling as always. “I thought you’d be hungry. I brought you breakfast— er, brunch in bed.”
  Vaggie tilted her head and saw the tray on the bedside table Charlie had brought up. It held two plates, two mugs of steaming warm tea, and breakfast food. Eggs, bacon, toast. 
  She looked back at her girlfriend. “You did all this?”
  “Everyone did,” she told her. “It was our excercise for today: learning to cook together. I said you weren’t feeling good, and we all wanted to pitch it.”
  “Aww,” Vaggie replied. “That’s sweet.. and oddly tame and domestic for those idiots. You had to force them, didn’t you?”
  “Yeahhh,” Charlie cringed, looking away. “I had to threaten to come back upstairs and wake you. I told them you were vicious when you woke up.”
  “Wow. Thanks, babe.”
  “But everyone stopped complaining once we started,” Charlie said quickly. “They all hope you feel better, although Angel said that you better not be having a negative reaction to his cooking.”
  “Oh, wow. How’d he figure it out?” She quipped. She turned her head, eyeing the food. She could smell it now and realized how hungry she was. Her stomach growled. She no longer felt nauseous. She supposed it was safe to eat. 
  She reached out to take a plate, but Charlie stopped her. “Be careful of the bacon,” she said. “Nifty made it. It’s extra.. crispy.”
  “Huh,” Vaggie said. “Thanks for the hands up.” She took the closest plate and bit into the buttered toast. She noticed the second plate and mug. The tea was getting cold. “Are you staying and eating? Don't you have to get back downstairs?”
  “Yeah, technically, but I said everyone could have a break,” she said, curling into Vaggie. She shivered. “I think cooking a meal for a sick friend, almost burning down the kitchen, and having a quick debrief about fire safety was enough for today.” She placed her head on Vaggie’s shoulder, now smirking. “Plus, I sneezed. I think I’m really sick. I think I better stay up here with you.”
  Vaggie twisted her head to look at her girlfriend, smiling. “Really?”
  Charlie smiled right back. “Really.”
  She leaned forward and kissed her right on the lips, breakfast long

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