"Jason Hill, how are you?" Lorres' husky voice filled the phone.

"Early call, what's up?" Jase quizzed abruptly. He felt tense. Ant and Paige had returned the night before in peals of laughter, sodden and wild with ease. He caught her face in an expression he'd never seen before; pure unadulterated happiness, and it only lasted a fraction of a second. The moment he emerged into the living area and her eyes latched on to him, it wisped away like a snuffed flame. The shift in her eyes had stayed with him, disturbing his sleep.

"I wondered if you could tell Paige her little psych assessment proved fruitful; we found our leak," Lorres announced, impressed.

"Well, that's good. I'll let her know," tiredness fogged Jase's brain, exacerbated by the pre-emption of what was to come.

"We could use help like that, she could come in handy. Do you think she'd consider a consulting position?"

"Oh, I don't know. She's only just adjusting to the admin job," Jase rubbed his forehead.

"Well we could find someone else for that. I'm sure she'd be interested," Lorres insisted.

"She didn't seem to be after the meeting the other day, I think it took a lot out of her. I'll talk to her about it though."

"Oh, she didn't?" Lorres' pitch elevated in what Jase could tell was mock surprise. There was no way out of it when she wanted something, and whatever Jase said to counter her efforts was only serving to make her suspicious.

"I think she was just tired. I'll speak to her after work, tell her to give Jack a call?"

"Tell her I'll be in touch," Lorres replied smoothly.

*

I awoke as I did most other mornings, sick with dread in the pit of my stomach from the sensation of being launched back into consciousness, spat from the haunting lucidity of my nightmares. This time the sickly pallor didn't drain from my skin as it usually did, a thick fuzziness in my head keeping me rooted to the pillow.

I needed to get up and get ready for work, but the challenge seemed particularly difficult. My limbs ached as I swung myself out of bed, after effects of the hard riding from yesterday no doubt. I traipsed sluggishly to the bathroom and splashed water on my face. My head hurt, even my arms hurt as they held me upright against the sink. I breathed steadily, blinking my eyes several times to shake them into awareness.

I'd wear something comfy today, I couldn't face the idea of a day in tailored trousers and a stiff shirt. I needed... bed. I needed a soft, flowy dress that wouldn't bind me uncomfortably anywhere. I fumbled with the clasps of my bra and swivelled it around my torso to position my breasts in the cups, the whole task feeling particularly draining. I unhooked a navy garment from the wardrobe and shimmied it on over my shoulders, feeling the strain in my underarms. Underwear, don't forget underwear. I was thirsty, I wanted tea or something hot to soothe the lump in the back of my throat.

I finished dressing, forgoing any makeup except for concealer dabbed under the eyes, and strode carefully into the kitchen. Breakfast- I needed to eat. My stomach rejected the idea with a lurch; I was too hot for food. I was too hot for tea, but my throat was sore. I sat for a moment on the barstool, unsure what to do.

"Tea?" Jase breezed past me with his heavy stride into the kitchen.

"Yes please," I mumbled, sitting straighter suddenly in case he picked up on the beginnings of my cold.

"Ant and Rob flew out early this morning," he raised his voice over the cacophony of the kettle.

"Mmhmm?" I murmured back, uninterested at that particular moment. All I wanted was somewhere cool. The AC in the car on the way to work seemed like a good place to be.

The day passed excruciatingly slowly, simple tasks seeming unnecessarily perplexing and taking me three times as long.

"You don't look so good, honey," Marlene stopped next to my desk, assessing me carefully.

"Cold coming on, I think," I smiled. My head burned, waves of warmth rolling across my body. Three more hours.

As a violent lurch of prickling heat crept up the back of my neck I stopped typing, holding myself still for a second. You know what that feels like? Bed was only hours away, as soon as I got back to the apartment I could strip off all my clothes, crank the AC up and pass out.

It took every fibre of mental strength I had to force myself through general tasks for the rest of the working day, for the first time relieved when I saw Jase pull up into the lot through the window.

"I'm off Marlene, hope you have a good evening," I smiled tightly as she sucked on a boiled sweet, glaring at her screen.

"You too doll, feel better," she replied, not looking up.

I walked out of the building in a dream, arriving at the car before I realised I'd stepped across the parking lot. Jase closed the door behind me, offensively loud music blasting from the stereo as soon as he switched the engine button on. I reached to the dial and turned it down to zero, sighing softly as silence greeted my ears.

"You ok?" Jase glanced sideways as he pulled out towards the exit. I nodded and rested my head against the window, adjusting the AC vents to my neck.

The drive back was far quicker than it normally would be in rush hour, the bridge clear and road works diverting the flow of traffic in a way that made it far more straightforward to reach the residential base. By the time the door closed behind us I thought I was feeling slightly better. Maybe I just needed a shower and a good night's sleep, I was exhausted; it was becoming increasingly difficult to drift off and persistent nightmares jolted me from my slumber as soon as I did. Apparently it was taking its toll.

I shrugged the dress off and sipped from the glass of now stale water on my bedside table. My heart thundered faintly in my chest, racing in it's struggle to keep me awake. Licks of sweat saturated my skin, my head pounding from unfulfilled hunger and undeniable sickness. I lay back on the bed to still the drumming reverberating through my body, with every intention of getting back up for a shower until my eyes slipped to a feverish close.

*

Jase frowned at the clock on the TV, Paige had been in her room for two hours. It wasn't unusual for her, but the shower hadn't sounded, nor had her TV. She would have emerged for dinner by now, but her room remained silent. He ignored his own cardinal sin and paused the playoffs. He liked to watch the whole thing live from start to finish, but something was off.

"Paige?" Jase leaned towards her door from the archway. "I'm going to heat up those leftovers, are you hungry?" Silence responded. He never violated the sanctity of her privacy but a nag in his gut told him he needed to check on her. She'd seemed particularly tired when he picked her up from work, actually coming out on time when she would normally have delayed returning back to the apartment with him.

"Paige?" He tapped his knuckles on her door to no avail. Something's wrong. Jase seized the handle and twisted it, pushing the door forward gently and met with blunt resistance. She'd locked it, of course she'd locked it, she always did. The sound of the latch clicking into place reminded him on a daily basis of her fear and discomfort towards him. The fixture was no obstacle of course, locks and barricades didn't present an issue for him. He grabbed his wallet from the kitchen side and pulled a card from it's sheath. He grasped the handle with his left hand and forced his weight against the door, feeling the resistance of the wood as it groaned against the lock. With the opening of a small unwilling gap he slid the card down and prized it against the latch, feeling the release as it yielded.

Paige lay half on the bed, exposed with legs over the side in the same position she'd obviously flopped down. Her dress was at her feet in a discarded jumble, her modesty only protected by simple white lace underwear. Jase acknowledged the beauty of her form and ignored it in the same moment, his brain working quickly to diagnose the situation. He went for her neck first, pressing two fingers against her carotid to feel her pulse. She was breathing, the rise and fall of her chest faster than it should have been. Ignore it, he told himself as the softness of her breasts spilled against the edge of the bra on her inhale. Her skin was clammy and hot, a film of sweat across her forehead. He touched the back of his hand lightly there, a burning fever stinging his skin. She was sick. Why had he let her go riding yesterday? She'd probably over exerted herself, or not wrapped up in the evening and gotten cold. And she'd gone in to work this morning. He should have known by the drowsiness on her face as she struggled to drink her tea before they left. She'd only managed a few gulps and had forgone breakfast, responding to him in sounds rather than words.

Jase swallowed down the urge to call in an emergency. It wasn't an emergency, after all. She had a fever, possibly the flu. She just needed care and rest. Still, as he watched the raspiness of her breath; lips parted; flushed cheeks against cold clamoured skin; he felt an unbridled need to fix it straight away for her. He could call her consultant or a doctor- no- Matty was back on base, so he could probably call him... He dialled the number without convincing himself otherwise, each ring feeling perilously long.

"Hey boss- wh- come on, how could you miss that shot?! Sorry man, how are you doing?" Matty spoke energetically into the phone. The playoffs, he'd forgotten about that.

"Hey man, how long's left on the clock?" Jase had no time for small talk.

"Seventeen minutes dude, shoot- shoot!"

"I need you to swing by Pacific Beacon when it's over, won't take long but I need a doctor."

"You alright Jase?"

"I'm good, it's... you heard I'm assigned as Paige's protective detail? She's not well, I think it's just the flu but I want her looked at."

"Sure, I'll leave in twenty minutes. Text me the building and number."

"Thanks bro," Jase shoved his phone in the pocket of his joggers. He needed to cover Paige up without making her too hot. Matt was a professional, and he'd seen and treated her in far worse states than this. But it was... different now. Jase didn't fully understand why, but this was different. In Syria, and most of Jordan it felt like a alternate version of Paige. She was somebody he could separate from, a ghostly figure of a victim and captive he blocked his conscience from caring about. Except it didn't work that way really, did it? Now she was... yours... his responsibility. And that gave him a strange sense of possessiveness he didn't really understand. He didn't want Matt, or anybody else, looking at her in this vulnerable unclothed state. He lingered in her doorway, a soft sigh emitting from her lips as she twitched and frowned in fitful slumber. She's dreaming about you, about the things you did.

Jase pushed the fog of thoughts to the back of his brain and paced to his bedroom to retrieve something he could dress her in without too much disruption. He didn't want to risk waking and alarming Paige, but he had to clothe her somehow. Everything else in his dresser was made of thicker fabric or less breathable material, he was wearing his lightest and comfiest t-shirt. He pulled it over his head and strode back to Paige's room, the thin silver chain that had belonged to his brother vibrating across his collarbone.

How could he dress her without disturbing her? He placed a limp hand through the sleeve of the t-shirt, still warm with the heat from his body, and pulled it up her arm carefully. He did the same with the other arm, and hesitated before he pushed the neck hole over her head. If she wakes up to you standing over her topless, whilst she's in her underwear, she will be petrified.

"Paige?" He called softly, but she didn't even stir. He gingerly stretched the fabric and gently pushed it over her head, supporting the back of her delicate neck with his large hand. He pulled the shirt down in a shimmying motion, ignoring every soft trace of contact between his fingers and her skin. When the fabric rested against her thighs he relaxed a little, then instantly grew concerned she would overheat. Her room was much warmer than the rest of the apartment. She had deliberately been given the one that received more light and natural heat because of her malnutritioned, underweight state when she'd first arrived, but now it was too warm for her to comfortably recover in. You need to move her. He could move her to the couch, but any movement he made in the kitchen could wake or disturb her. His own bedroom was substantially cooler and received a light breeze from the harbour. She won't like it. It was the best choice.

"Paige?" He called again, determined not to overthink it and deftly sliding his hands underneath her feverish body, lifting her with ease in a cradled position. She seemed to jolt suddenly and frowned, eyes half opening. Jase softly pounded towards his room, desperate to get her safely on to his bed before she woke and freaked out. He lay her on top of the sheets as quickly as he could, stepping back to a safe distance as she tossed and groaned lightly. She settled easily, aided by the cooler temperature of the room. He watched her for a moment, satisfied her chest was rising and falling as it had been and she had returned to her infirmary sleep. His phone vibrated in his pocket, Matt was only two buildings over in the nearby Palmer Hall and was walking round. He may not be able to do much, but Jase hoped he could at least put his mind at ease.