When Terry Gets Sick

Chapter Four: Those Five Little Words

Rachel woke again early on Saturday.

"Mmm," she mumbled, stretching as the sun streamed in through Terry's window, a rarity enough in Gotham. It took her a moment to remember where she was.

Rachel had curled up in Terry's desk chair, the duck patterned blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a cape.

Terry was still sleeping, she noted. He looked much better; nowhere near the same pale shade he'd been when Rachel forced herself to sleep.

She considered for a moment making a big breakfast for him, but then remembered how delirious he'd been the night before and thought he needed his sleep.

"But I am going to need coffee," Rachel told herself. "Coffee…" she repeated dreamily.

She stretched out, yawning. Her neck felt a little stiff, probably from the uncomfortable wooden chair. Rachel rolled her shoulders slowly, observing how nice the sun felt on her skin.

"Much better," Rachel murmured to herself. She folded the blanket neatly and laid it at the end of Terry's bed. Rachel pressed a tiny hand against Terry's forehead once more. He felt about normal temperature, Rachel noticed almost regrettably. She rather enjoyed taking care of him, especially when he thought they were married with three kids.

"It was the only time I'll ever hear him say he loved me," Rachel said, trying to find some reason to obsess over those words. "I need this."

Feeling a little better, she padded downstairs quietly to make some coffee.

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Terry was asleep most of the morning. Rachel woke him up from time to time to give him orange juice, knowing Terry needed some sort of fluid to get better.

However, he fell asleep immediately after every glass.

Rachel sighed. How adorable he looked, bangs falling in his eyes as his chest gently rose and fell.

Terry muttered to himself now and then, part of his dreams, Rachel guessed. One time, she noticed excitedly, he had said, "Gotta get home to Rachel."

'It is not going to happen,' she scolded herself. 'He'll work things out with Dana and you'll just be the sidekick…again.'

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She spent most of the day flipping through the channels, bored. Terry was still asleep every single time she checked on him.

'Being Batman must really wear him out. Or maybe he's a really good actor.'

"Terry?" she asked quietly. "You awake?"

He rolled over, staring at her. "Why are you here?" he asked groggily.

"You've been sick, Ter. You want something to eat?"

"Sure," he mumbled sleepily.

Rachel brought him up a peanut butter sandwich.

"Thanks, Rach," Terry muttered. "I'm just going to go back to sleep, OK?"

"OK. Promise me you'll eat when you wake up, Terry."

"Promise. You're a good friend Rachel."

"It's not a problem. I have a favor to ask, though," she replied shyly.

"Go ahead."

"Can I use the shower?"

"Sure, sure," he slurred. "Shampoo and soap should be in there somewhere."

"Thanks."

She found a towel and stepped inside the bathroom. Rachel turned on the hot water, undressed, and got inside, loving the feeling of the hot jet of water on her soft skin.

She shampooed her thick, glossy obsidian hair quickly and got out. Rachel patted her silky skin dry with the towel and noticed Terry's bathrobe slung over the sink. Feeling rather like a stalker, Rachel picked it up and buried her pretty face in the material. It smelled like him, a combination of coffee and a hint of some sort of cologne. Rachel liked it; it was comforting in an odd way.

Deciding to put her clothes in the dryer to freshen them up a little, she wrapped herself in Terry's robe. She rolled up her clothes in a little bundle and went back to the ground floor. Rachel put the clothes in the dryer and was looking for a snack when the doorbell rang.

It was Dana.

Rachel groaned; this wasn't going to look good. Dana was a gossiper, Rachel knew it. She also knew Dana had seen her through the glass. She bit her lip and opened the door.

Dana's almond-shaped eyes narrowed. "Looks like you were busy," she simpered. "Sorry."

"This is really not what it looks like," Rachel said hastily. "Not that I care about what you think."

"Oh, yeah right, Grayson," Dana snarled. "Like you and Terry weren't together from the day you met."

"We're not together. And we never have been."

"Liar."

"Cheater."

"Thief."

Rachel's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?" she spluttered.

"Like you didn't steal Terry from me the day you met him. That's why I let him see me with Alex. I knew he was running around with you behind my back," Dana spat.

"I would never do anything to interfere with your relationship. Even you know me better than that," Rachel said, shaking her head in disbelief.

Dana snorted. "You had a crush on him the second you laid those big green eyes of yours on him. And he returns your feelings, Rachel. And it hurt so badly, knowing, or at least thinking, you were with him that I started seeing Alex."

Rachel gaped at her. "Terry doesn't have feelings for me."

"Oh yes he does. Haven't you ever noticed the way he looks at you? The way he hugs you and lets you rest your head on his shoulder when you're upset or tired? Are you blind, Rachel?"

"We're friends," Rachel stressed. "Don't you get that?"

"Then why are you wearing his robe?" Dana queried.

"He's sick and I've been here since last night. I took a shower. That's all; I swear."

"Uh-huh," Dana replied, looking doubtful. "Whatever. Tell him to call me, Grayson."

She turned on her heel and stalked down the drive.

Rachel took her clothes out of the dryer and dressed again. She made another pot of coffee and checked on Terry again.

He was curled up on his side, the blankets tucked around his waist. Smiling, she brought them up to his chest and laid a gentle kiss on his cheek.

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Rachel made two phone calls: one to Bruce and one to Mary. She told them both the same thing: Terry was doing better and had slept most of the day.

"And how are you Rachel? Are you taking care of yourself?" Mary wanted to know.

"I'm fine, Mary. I showered and everything. And it's really not a problem, like you seem to be making it out to be."

"I was young once, Rachel," Mary said conspiratorially. "I know how you feel, hon. And personally, I think you're much better for him than Dana is."

"Well that's nice of you," Rachel answered, feeling awkward. Why was she having this conversation with Terry's mother?

"I have to go, Rachel. I have a meeting in ten minutes. Say hello to Terry for me."

"I will," she promised.

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Rachel woke up Sunday morning not knowing where she was. She had gone to sleep in the desk chair again, but this was no desk chair.

It was soft and squashy and much warmer than the single blanket she'd wrapped around herself when she fell asleep.

"Mmm," she groaned.

"Hey sleepyhead," she was greeted softly by Terry from somewhere behind her. "Good to know you're still alive."

"Why am I in your bed?"

His arms wrapped around her tightly. "Why Mrs. McGinnis I'm insulted."

"Not funny, Terry," she snapped, yanking herself out of his grip.

"I'm sorry, Rach. But I couldn't let you sleep on that uncomfortable chair two nights in a row."

"Oh. You didn't have to do that."

"Are you kidding? I've fallen asleep there, and it's horrible for your back. Especially considering our after school jobs."

"OK, you're obviously feeling better now. I'm going home."

"Don't," he protested simply, enveloping her hand in his. "Stay."

Rachel stared at him. "Why?" she asked finally.

"I heard you and Dana," he admitted faintly. "Do you wanna take a walk?"

"Sure," she agreed gently. "That sounds nice."

"Let me change, OK?"

"Fine, Ter."

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He changed into another clean black t-shirt and the same gray jeans as always. His worn brown jacket was slung over his shoulder.

"Ready?" he inquired, smiling shyly at her.

"Yep."

The only thing she'd done was apply a thin layer of raspberry lip gloss and she hadn't even known why. It wasn't like she expected him to start kissing her…or did she?

They let themselves out quietly and started down the walk.

"To the park?"

"Sounds fine to me," Rachel agreed.

Most of the walk was spent in silence. A few kids ran around the park, screaming at the top of their lungs.

Terry led her to a wooden park bench and they sat down, still quiet.

"How much did you hear?" Rachel asked finally.

"Enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rachel demanded.

"It means that I know how you feel about me."

"Oh," Rachel said quietly. "We can just pretend you didn't hear if it makes you uncomfortable," she continued.

"Rachel," Terry said firmly, turning to her and taking her hands in his, "Could anything ever change the way you feel about me?"

"No," Rachel admitted, blushing furiously. "But it kinda ruins the whole partner thing we have going and-"

"Rachel," he uttered softly, cupping her face in his hands, "I love you too."

And grinning widely, he closed the gap between them, kissing her with everything he had.

"Terry," she murmured breathlessly, "I'm glad you got sick."

So…I'm on a roll today; 3 out of 4 stories updated! Spring Break does an authoress good.

Love y'all

Queenie