Disclaimer: The characters of the Stephanie Plum series belong to Janet Evanovich and are used here without permission no copyright infringement is intended.
Note: This short was originally written to be part of a round-robin called Fever Dreams. Since that round robin became solely dedicated to smut and I don't write smut, I never had it added. The story behind the round robin is that Stephanie ends up very sick with a high fever and various Merry Men take care of her while her fever is high.
Ranting: Suitable for people over 13
Feedback: Email TT
Fevered Dreaming
By TT
He stepped onto the control room floor looking for Tank. The bustle and tension wasn’t completely unexpected given the power outage and the chaos that ensued. It had made for excruciatingly long days in the field.
When he woke up about an hour ago, it was to his phone ringing. Seeing that he call was from Tank, he assumed he was about to be sent out again to deal with another customer. Hopefully this one hadn’t been robbed.
Now, however, he was left wondering what was going on. He’d been told to report to the fifth floor for Bombshell duty. As with all Rangemen, he was trained to be aware of his surroundings at all times. It was easy to see that all of his co-workers were on edge for some reason or another. But the vibe he was picking up from them was unusual. It was almost like they were embarrassed about something, afraid to speak about whatever it was. Having been out in the field during the whole blackout, he hadn’t had time to find out what was going on with Ms. Plum – Steph if you were speaking to her. Now he was curious.
He’d been waiting to be noticed for about three minutes when Tank came barreling out of the stairwell, scanned the room and found him.
“Follow me,” the larger man commanded, turning and immediately heading back upstairs.
Trained to respond to orders, he immediately followed the other man, not even questioning why they were headed upward. He knew that Tank would inform him about the situation.
Sure enough, as they climbed the stairs, Tank began speaking. “Bombshell has a high fever, probably pneumonia. She’s been delusional and out of it since Bobby and Lester brought her here. We can’t leave her alone in case her fever spikes or she goes into convulsions. She’s been coughing on and off to get the congestion out of her lungs. She does better in a slightly sitting position or laying on her left side.” By this point they had reached the seventh floor and were headed into Ranger’s apartment.
He followed as Tank walked to the kitchen.
With his voice barely above a whisper, Tank continued, “We’ve been using cold water and a washcloth to help reduce her fever and keep her cool. She’s been thrashing around a lot and hasn’t been taking in much water. Slick was able to get her to eat a popsicle earlier and Bobby had her on an IV. If she comes around a little, get her to drink some water. There are instructions on the table next to the bed.”
“Is there rubbing alcohol around here?” he asked.
Tank shot him a funny look. “Yeah, why?” he demanded.
With a shrug, he explained, “My mom used to use water with rubbing alcohol in it when our fevers got high. The alcohol will evaporate off the skin and cool it down.”
Tank reached over to the cupboard under the sink, opened the door and brought out a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “Here. We’re running low on ice anyway.” With that, he turned and headed toward the bedroom.
As they stepped in, he had to move aside as his coworker quickly exited the room looking remarkably jumpy. Dismissing the odd behavior, he took in the sight of the fever-flushed woman on the bed. His heart immediately went out to her. Under her fever-reddened cheeks, she was very pale. There were dark bruises under her eyes, her hair was matted in some places and sticking out wildly in others. He knew Stephanie took pride in her appearance and promised that he would at least try to brush her hair to make her feel a little better. Or at least make himself feel a little better. He loved to watch her curls bounce.
His attention snapped back to the present as he heard Tank ask if there were any questions. “No, I’ve got it,” he assured.
With a final nod, Tank disappeared out the door.
Glancing around the room, he didn’t see a brush. He did spot the washcloth and bowl on the side table and quickly grabbed them, heading into the bathroom.
Once by the sink, he emptied the tepid water from the bowl and re-filled it with fresh water, adding a generous dose of rubbing alcohol as he did so. He spotted a hairbrush on the countertop and grabbed that along with a leather tieback that he knew Ranger preferred. Back in high-school he had worn his hair quite long and one of his girlfriends had taught him how to French braid hair. If nothing else, it would keep her curls from flying away everywhere.
Gathering together everything he needed, he headed back into the bedroom in time to hear her whimper softly.
Setting the bowl down on the side table, he set the brush and tieback there as well.
Just as he was about to settle into the chair, Stephanie started coughing.
The wet, wracking coughs drew her entire body up off of the mattress.
Alarmed, he quickly slipped off his shoes and sat Stephanie up. He slid in behind her and leaned her forward over his arm. Making soft shushing noises, he rubbed her back until the coughs subsided.
He smiled when a satisfied sigh escaped her and, after another moment or two of rubbing her back, he reached over and grabbed the hairbrush, ready to battle her curls.
{Begin Dream}
Stephanie let out a sigh. She hated running after skips, hated the way it made her lungs burn, and the fact that something had just flown into her mouth making her cough didn’t help matters.
As she choked and spluttered, trying to dislodge whatever it was that was making it so hard to breathe, she felt a strong arm wrap around her and another begin to rub her back. Immediately, she was comforted by the gentle action.
Soon, she was able to breathe again and a satisfied sigh escaped. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw she was in a bed. Not sure when that had happened, she glanced down and saw a pair of denim-clad legs resting on either side of her and a strongly muscled arm supporting her, resting just under her breasts. She became aware of the body behind her and wondered briefly who it was. It didn’t really matter, though, she decided as her eyes drifted shut she knew it was someone who would keep her safe. It was probably a merry man, there had been so many of them recently, so many trying to make her feel good.
The hand that had been rubbing her back disappeared. She thought about protesting, but couldn’t find the energy. Her mind drifted again and she found herself somewhere between awake and asleep.
“Just relax, honey,” the silky-smooth voice drawled, just a hint of the South in his words. “I’m going to help you out here, help you feel better.”
“Mmm,” Stephanie replied, unable to come up with anything more coherent.
She felt herself being shifted. She realized that she was now leaning back against a pair of legs. Before her mind could question it, though, she felt a hand gently run over her hair. A contented hum escaped as the hand lifted her hair off her neck.
Soon she found herself lost in the sensations that he was creating.
The hand caressed her hair a second time before strong, thick fingers slipped underneath her tresses.
The small hairs on the fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of her neck, causing her internal temperature to heat.
It was an intimate gesture. It was warm, safe and she couldn’t help but feel her aching body relax a little, as the hairs continued to caress her.
Finally, the hairs gave way to the comforting weight of a hand.
It wasn’t long before another weight made itself felt. A moment later, she realized it was the weight of a brush. Combined with the weight of the hand on the back of her neck, Stephanie felt her heart speed up.
It felt so good to be held close, so intimate to have a man brushing her hair. She felt delicate, beautiful, desired and cared for. She enjoyed feeling this way and wanted more, she shifted slightly, not sure what she wanted to do.
“Shh, honey,” the voice soothed. “Just stay still and I’ll take care of your hair for you. I’ll just put it back.”
“Mmm,” she replied, stilling so he would continue the wonderful brushing.
As she relaxed, she slipped deeper into her fantasy.
She was sitting at the vanity in their bedroom, dressed and ready to go. He was brushing her hair, a habit they’d gotten into long ago when he first discovered how much she enjoyed it.
After he finished brushing, she felt him begin to weave her hair in on itself. The shifting of the hairs against her neck sent a chill down her spine, but it was not an unwelcome feeling.
“Almost done,” he assured, his breath caressing her neck.
She shivered again, desire stirring within her as the warm air brushed the sensitive spot at the back of her jawbone before exerting a delicious pressure against her ear. Never, before she had met him, had she any idea that her ears were an erogenous zone. But now that they both knew, he wasn’t above using it to his advantage.
Finished with her hair, Stephanie opened her eyes and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked good. He looked good enough to eat and she easily read the desire in his eyes as well.
“Not now, honey,” he admonished. “We’ve got the cocktail party to attend.”
She pouted but accepted his hand and stood.
The next thing she knew they were standing outside on a porch. There was a party going on in the house behind them, but Stephanie had been so hot.
Now, she stood leaning against the rail, staring out at the Atlantic. A cool breeze teased her skin, cooling her. The scent of alcohol still assaulted her from where someone had spilled their drink on her, but she really didn’t care at this point.
As her overheated body cooled in the night air, she felt his fingers glide down her arm.
A smile curved her lips. “Playful tonight?” she asked.
His body pressed up against the length of hers. She leaned back into his strength. “I always enjoy playing with you,” he admitted, his voice husky.
He once again wrapped an arm around her and ran his other hand up her arm, stopping at the inside of her elbow to stroke it a few times, knowing how it turned her on.
That simple action combined with his breath caressing her neck, stimulating the small hairs at the nape was enough to elicit a moan of desire from her as her eyes fluttered shut. “What you do to me,” she breathed out.
Her words were answered by a gentle kiss placed just below her ear, sending a shiver of desire through her. “Nothing more than you do to me,” his honeyed accent assured.
Turning in his arms, Stephanie stared into his expressive eyes and suggested, “Why don’t we head home?”
“Sounds good,” he answered, smiling and placing a chaste kiss on her lips.
With his arm wrapped around her waist, they entered the room and said their goodbyes.
Handing her into the car, he made sure she was safely in before closing the door and walking around to the driver’s side.
Stephanie smiled at him, wondering how someone so wonderful could be hers. Reaching across the console, she took his right hand in her left. She rested her head against the back of the seat and watched the light play across his beautiful face as they drove along.
At some point, she drifted to sleep, a smile on her face.
{End Dream}
Feeling her relax against him, he carefully shifted her until she was propped up against the large stack of pillows on the bed.
He slipped his shoes back on and settled in the seat beside the bed. He paused to take her temperature and was happy to see it a little lower than it had been.
Now all he had to do was bide his time until his replacement came.
End