Message: 74
To: RANGER-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU
From: Kat Anderson 
Subject: Fanfic:  "Supertrooper Flu"
Date: Sun, 30 Nov 1997 18:32:44 -1000
Reader says:  "What, Kat wrote another goofy story?"
Yep.  Two less than two weeks?  I do wish I could write like this all
the time.  (If I could, I would seriously consider turning pro.  As it
stands, though...oh well. :)
        This was inspired by yet another late-night IRC chat (those of you
don't participate are missing some wonderously strange conversations).
Everyone was sick, and that made me wonder how Shane Gooseman, Mr.
Immune, would react if he somehow caught the flu.  Some of the best bits
in this are from Jessica's take on it. :)  Enjoy!

-Kat- (who can write serious stuff, it just takes her twice as long...;)

SUPERTROOPER FLU

        "I am not sick.  I don't *get* sick,"  Shane Gooseman complained as he
waited outside Medical for an available doctor.  Niko, who was sitting
beside him put a hand on his forehead.
        "Goose, you have a fever, you're shaking for no reason, and your voice
sounds *horrible*.  You *are* sick."
        "Supertroopers do *not* get sick."  he insisted.
        "Relax, Goose," said Doc as he read the posters on the wall.  "It's
probably just the flu.  It's been going around lately."
        "I've never caught the flu before.  I'm supposed to be immune."
        "I doubt you could be immune to every strain that comes along.  It
mutates too fast,"  Niko pointed out.  "All this means is you'll have to
get flu shots along with everyone else."  Goose made a face at that,
causing Doc to snicker.
        "I've never seen anyone so stubborn,"  Niko continued.  "You'd probably
still be trying to adjust those coils in your interceptor with double
vision if Doc and I hadn't made you come down here."
        "I was doing fine,"  he insisted.
        "You fell off.  If you had been anyone else, it might have been
serious," said Doc.  "You're just lucky that your biodefenses are still
working."  Goose sulked.  His biodefenses might be working, but they
hadn't helped his flu symptoms at all.
        "Ranger Gooseman?"  A nurse walked over.  "Doctor Picardo will see you
now."
        Goose glared one last time at his teamates, and stalked into the
examination room.

                        * * * * *

        "Well, your blood results confirm it.  You definatly have the flu."
Doctor Picardo sounded much too cheerful about it for Goose's temper.
        "So why aren't my biodefenses working on it?"
        "I have no idea.  Maybe they don't recognize it as a threat."
        "That doesn't make any sense."
        "As I said, I don't really know why.  We'll run more tests, of course,
but your immune system seems to be on the job all by itself.  I wouldn't
worry too much about it."
        "I still don't know how I managed to catch the flu."
        "Oh, I imagine the same way everyone else catches it.  You were exposed
to someone who had it."  Goose sulked some more.  "Obviously, this is a
rather nasty strain.  It would almost have to be, to successfully infect
a supertrooper."
        "Does that mean I have to stay here?"
        "I don't see any real reason to quarantine you.  This strain is covered
by the current immunizations, so it shouldn't be a contagion problem.
We will monitor you, of course.  In the meantime..." he handed Goose two
bottles.  "This is for the nausea and sore throat. You've been relieved
of duty.  Stay in bed, drink plenty of liquids, and call me immediatly
if your fever rises above 104 degrees, or if you show any severe
symptoms.  Otherwise, I'll see you in a few days for a followup."
Goose nodded, and walked out.

                        * * * * *

        "Look on the bright side, Goose,"  Doc said cheerfully.  "Now you don't
have to go to this month's department meeting."  Goose groaned, and
burrowed deeper under the covers.  Doc had promised to 'take care of
him', and had so far proved to be far more annoying than a sick person
could take.  He just couldn't seem to resist taking advantage of the
situation, and had been teasing him about it at every opportunity.
        "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"  he grumbled.  And immediatly
regretted it, as another wave of nausea washed over him.
        "That's just the flu talking, Goose."  Doc replied.  "You want a pizza
or anything?"  Goose groaned again, and pulled the covers over his head.
        Zach poked his head in the door.  "How's our patient doing?"
        "He's feeling worse.  He finally learned firsthand what the phrase
'worshipping the porcelain god' really means..."  Somehow, Goose found
the strength to throw his pillow into Doc's face.
        "A little testy today, are we my Gooseman?"  Goose responded with a
string of vile spacer insults.
        Zach chuckled.  "I see the flu hasn't changed his temper any."  He set
a sealed container down on the endtable next to a plethora of wadded
tissues, empty sports drink bottles, and various medications.  "Homemade
chicken soup, courtesy of the kids.  For whenever you can keep food
down."
        "Isn't that an old wives tale?" asked Doc.
        Zach shrugged.  "It always worked for us."
        Goose pulled a pillow over his head and tried to block their voices
out.  It didn't work.  Doc and Zach continued to exchange cold and flu
home remedies in what sounded to his oversensitive ears as shouts.  He
seriously considered finding his gun and shooting them.
        Someone tapped him on the shoulder.  He curled up and ignored it.  When
he was tapped again, he mumbled "oo 'way".
        Niko sighed, and tried again.  "Goose, do you think you could keep your
medication down now?"
        Oh.  The blankets rustled, and a hand blindly groped out.  Niko handed
him the pills and offered a glass of water.  There was a mumble that
sounded like "pank oo" in response.
        "Do you want to try the soup now?"  This recived a definatly negative
response.  Niko patted the covered lump of her teamate in sympathy.
"Then I'll just leave it and the tea here.  Try to get some sleep.  I'll
check in on you later."
        Goose moaned in response.  Niko sighed again, and herded the still
jabbering Doc and Zach out, to Goose's everlasting gratitude.

                        * * * * *

        "So, how are we doing today?" asked Doc as he walked in.  Goose was
sitting up in bed, surrounded by used tissues.  He hacked in response.
        "That bad.  Jeez, this bug just doesn't want to quit.  Makes me glad I
had my shots.  Anything you need today?"  Goose tried to answer, but all
he managed was an inarticulate croak.
        "What was that?  I didn't quite understand you there, Goose,"  Doc
snickered.  Goose glared at him, and tried again, with even less
impressive results.
        Doc's grin got even broader.  "Maybe you should try sign language."
        Goose took this suggestion, and gave Doc an old, time-honored hand
gesture, the meaning of which was unmistakable.  Doc's grin didn't
falter for an instant.
        "Really, Goose.  Is that any way to talk to your flu angel?"
        Goose snorted and repeated the gesture, this time with both hands for
emphasis.
        "Well, if that's really how you feel..."  Doc turned to leave, and
bumped into Niko as she came in.  "I don't think he's in the mood for
company today."
        "I noticed.  I just wanted to drop off this cough syrup,"  she replied.
        Goose perked up, though he tried to not look *too* eager as he took the
bottle from Niko.  Tossing the little plastic cup aside, he took a hefty
swig directly from the bottle, and flopped back down in bed.
        "Goose, that's prescription strength...oh, never mind."  She threw her
hands up.  "I give up.  Just try not to overdose."
        From flat on his back, Goose gave her a thumbs up sign, and took
another swig.

                        * * * * *

        Monday morning, Goose strode into the lounge.  For the first time in
almost a week, he felt great.  His sinuses were clear, his voice was
back to normal, and, best of all, he was *hungry*.  Thank goodness it
was over.  He never wanted to go through that again.
        Spotting Doc and Niko at a table, he decided he should thank them for
putting up with his grouchy behavior last week.  He took his mug from
the dispenser, and walked over.
        Doc glared up at him with bloodshot eyes.  "You *would* be chipper
today," he grumped.
        "Doc, you look awful."  So did Niko, who was hunched over her tea,
staring at it with a glazed expression.
        "Of course I look awful,"  Doc croaked.  "I caught whatever the hell
you had while taking care of you.  So did everyone else who got near
you."  Niko moaned, and rested her head on her arms.
        "What about the flu shots?  I thought they covered this strain."
        "They did, until it mutated in *your* damned system.  Doctor Picardo is
publishing a research paper on it.  Meanwhile, *we* get to suffer."
        Goose looked around the mostly empty lounge.  "Where's Zach?"
        "At home.  His kids are loading him up on chicken soup and hot tea.  As
for me..."  Doc blew his nose.  "I'm going home, getting into bed, and
spending the next week or so fanasizing about giving you your flu shots
*personally* next year."
        Niko painfully raised her head.  "The next person to raise their voice
gets this mug shoved up his nose,"  she whispered.  Then she dropped her
head back down with a thump.
        "I guess I should get you two put to bed."  Goose set his mug down, and
picked an unresiting Niko up.  "Should I come back for you, Doc?"
        Doc fumbled with the cap on his prescription.  "You're enjoying this,
aren't you?"  he grumped.
        A wicked grin crossed Goose's face.  "That's just the flu talking,
Doc.  But don't worry,"  the grin got wider.  "I'll take care of you."
        Doc moaned, and banged his head on the table.

                        -end-

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