Stage Door

[hiyou9]

So...I know I've already posted one unfinished story--which I will finish! Promise. Buuuuuuuut, I've had this story for awhile now, and to be totally honest, I like it way more.

Sorry if posting this many stories is silly--I've said it before, I'm new.

So, in this particular story, the two young stars of a new Broadway play start to form a tentative romance when one of them becomes ill. Enjoy!

There's not a lot of sneezing in the first part, but there's oodles more to come. I solemnly swear

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Stage Door

Part 1

Magnolia Louise Valentine—Maggie to her friends—was dragging her exhausted body down a busy New York City sidewalk on a bitterly cold afternoon in February. She was on her way to the Vivien Beaumont Theatre, where she was currently starring in a brand new Broadway play. Maggie had been involved in the NYC theatre scene for about five years and now—at the age of twenty-five—she’d finally gotten her first big role. The play—Eden Sank to Grief—was a searing drama about a troubled relationship between a young man and woman—tracking its progress from charmed beginning to tragic end. It was getting nearly universal acclaim from critics all over. In fact, even though it was only February and the announcement of all the Tony nominations was still months away, many critics were speculating that Maggie would be a nominee for Best Actress in a Play and very possibly the ultimate winner.

Yes, Maggie was absolutely living out the fantasy she’d dreamed of and nurtured since she was a very little girl and saw her very first Broadway musical. And, normally, she was the ‘Mary Sunshine’ of the cast and crew—she always bounced in to performances and rehearsals with a spring in her step and a smile on her face. She never complained, always complimented, and was one of the hardest-working girls in show-business.

But today, Maggie was feeling neither bouncy nor sunshiny. She had come down with a particularly nasty cold, and all she wanted to do was curl up with a blanket, some tea, cherry popsicles, and her box set of ‘I Dream of Jeannie’. Notice that this list did not include performing her most emotionally complex role to date for a thousand people.

Maggie hated being sick, but she hated giving in to sickness even more, which is why she was she was unwillingly plodding her tired feet to the theatre. Maggie prided herself on her work ethic and her ability to muscle through any problem that came her way, and she was not about to let a silly cold ruin her perfect performance record.

Maggie suddenly sniffed sharply and quickly grabbed a crumpled tissue from her coat pocket, “Heh...hhhhh....chshh! Heh’chsh! Ht-nxt!”

She sighed and lightly blew her nose, then stowed the tissue back in her pocket. Maggie silently chided herself for not going to see a doctor that morning, like she probably should have, but she knew that he wouldn’t have really been able to do anything. The doctor would’ve told her to drink plenty of fluids—which she was already doing—and get some rest—which she couldn’t do. Well, at least not until tomorrow, when the show had its weekly dark day—a day with no performances. She was planning on going to the doctor then, even though she knew he wouldn’t prescribe her any antibiotics. She didn’t have anything she could take antibiotics for; she just had a head cold. A miserable, awful, wretched head cold.

A sudden rattling cough shook Maggie from her thoughts, and she coughed painfully into the crook of her elbow. She grimaced, and rubbed at her tight chest.

Okay. So, maybe she had a chest cold, too.

* * *

At the ripe old age of twenty-nine years, Eli Keating was already something of a Broadway legend. He’d first gotten involved in the Broadway theatre scene when he was eleven years old and accompanied his friend to an audition.

He’d wound up getting cast in the small role of the main character’s son, and he’d absolutely fallen in love with acting. He became homeschooled when he was thirteen so he could focus more on auditioning and acting. After working in ensembles and being cast in bit roles for a few years, he wrote his own play—Love (And Other Bad Decisions)—when he was seventeen. He finally got green lit to put it on when he was nineteen. He cast himself in the main male role. It was an instant hit, and he was declared a genius and a wunderkind by critics all over. He won two Tony’s—one for Best Play and one for Best Actor in a Play.

He had not written any plays since his first—writing didn’t come as easily or naturally to him as acting did. But he had acted in numerous other plays—on-Broadway and off. He’d won a second Best Actor Tony when he was twenty-three, and he’d been nominated for Best Featured Actor when he was twenty-six.

Now, he was currently starring in Eden Sank to Grief and, as per usual, the critics were lauding his performance and speculating he would get his third acting Tony come awards time.

Eli was having a wonderful time working on Eden; it was his favorite play he’d done so far in his career. He liked it even more than Mars. He told interviewers this was because writing, acting, and working extensively with the director—when he was only just a teenager—had been incredibly stressful and took a lot of the fun out of the experience. Since he was only acting in Eden, it was much easier to relax and enjoy himself.

And that was true, but not entirely. The real reason why he loved being in Eden so much was because he was completely and irrevocably in love with his co-star, Maggie Valentine.

He had never met a woman as sweet, genuine, and hard-working as Maggie. She truly loved the theatre—loved it with her whole heart. Eli hadn’t heard a single complaint escape her once, not even the times they’d rehearsed late into the night.

It probably also had something to do with the fact that Maggie was drop-dead gorgeous—tall and willowy, with soft brown hair, starry green eyes, and a sweet face that hadn’t quite lost its childish roundness.

He wanted to tell Maggie how he felt—he really did—but he was worried that it would affect their working relationship, and that wouldn’t do.

So, for now, he had to be satisfied with waiting around in friend zone and adoring Maggie in secret.

But Eli wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this.

[Dusty15]

Oooh I love this! I work in theatre, so it's an extra treat for me I love all the little details

[hiyou9]

Aw, thanks! I don't work in theatre yet--I'm majoring in it at college, but I really want to some day! I love setting my stories around the theatre--it's one of my favorite places

[jezebel215]

this is looking yummy :-)

[tma]

Oooooo!! I confess that I am Much more of a male sneezing fan, but I am a theater geek, and I adore the set up with this. Lovely writing. Do *not* apologize for lack of sneezes! I might be biased, but when I get hooked on the writing, those are the stories that I come back to over and over.

Can't wait to see where this goes. :)

[hiyou9]

You guys are all so nice Soooooo...here's the next bit! I hope ya'll enjoy.

Stage Door

Part 2

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Eli was hanging out backstage and looking through some notes from the previous night’s performance when he heard the stage door open. He looked up just as Maggie was walking in. He frowned when he noticed the exhaustion in her normally brisk gait, and the crumpled tissue she was holding in her left hand.

“You sick?” he asked with concern when Maggie walked over.

Maggie opened her mouth to answer, but turned away to sneeze into her tissue instead, “Heh...hhhh...ht’nxt! Nxt! Heh-chshh!”

She turned back, sniffling, and said, “It’s just a bad cold.”

Eli quite honestly wasn’t surprised—she’d seemed off her game at last night’s performance. She’d claimed she was just tired, but Eli hadn’t been so sure.

Eli grinned, and Maggie scowled at him, “What exactly are yohhhh...heh...heh’nxt! What are you smiling at?”

“It’s a rite of passage in the theatre,” Eli explained.

Maggie sniffed and said, confused, “What is?”

“Your cold. Only the hardest workers in a show come down with them. So, congratulations. It’s a momentous occasion in a new actor’s life,” Eli said.

“Well, gee,” Maggie said crossly, sniffling, “That just makes me feel so spe­hhh...heh’nxt! Nxt! Hhh-chshh! So special and good.”

“Why do you sneeze like that?” Eli asked.

“What do you mean?” Maggie said absently as she dug around in her pockets for more tissues, the back of her left hand pressed to her nose to stop the moisture from escaping.

“Why do you hold them in?” Eli said.

“Hm? Oh, that’s just a habit, I guess. My mother always told me it was ‘more ladylike’,” Maggie said distractedly, rolling her eyes, “God, I can’t believe I forgot to bring more tissues!”

Eli grabbed a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and handed it to Maggie, who accepted it gratefully and blew her nose. She went to hand it back to Eli, who said, “No, you keep it. I have more at home. And, you know, you really shouldn’t stifle your sneezes.”

“Why not?” Maggie asked, laughing a little.

“Because you could blow out an eardrum. And if you blow out an eardrum, you might go deaf and your career in the theatre will be over before it even starts,” Eli said seriously.

Maggie looked horrorstruck, “Can that really happen?” she whispered.

Eli paused for a moment, then grinned, “Nah,” he said, “I was just teasing you.”

Maggie smacked Eli playfully on the arm, “Oh, Eli Keating! You are suhhhh...heh’ktchieew! Tchiew! Such a jerk!” she accused, and then said, “There. I didn’t stifle them. Happy?”

“Very,” Eli said, “Now, let’s get ready to go wow our public.”

* * *

By the time the show started, Maggie was already feeling worse than she was when she’d first gotten to the theatre. By the time they were almost through with Act I, Maggie felt downright awful. She had a throbbing sinus headache, a sore throat, the beginnings of a bad earache (which, she noted unhappily, was probably due to stifling her sneezes), achy muscles, and—if the shivering was any indication—a fever. Fortunately, she had managed to get through the whole first act without sneezing once, in spite of the nagging tickle that was lodged deep in her septum. There’d been a few close calls—her breath even hitched slightly during a particularly intense scene—but a discrete rub of her nose was enough to stave off the sneezes for that moment.

Maggie hoped how crappy she was feeling wasn’t resonating too much in her performance—she was a good actress, but she did have her limits. She tried to keep her energy level up as much as possible—it was an incredibly passionate play, after all—but all she really wanted to do was curl up in a ball and pray for death.

When the curtain went down for Act I, Maggie hurried backstage to let out all the sneezes she’d been holding in, stifling and etiquette be damned. She buried her face in the handkerchief Eli had given her, “Hehh...heht’chiew! Ktchiiieiw! Ahh...A’ishooo! Ishoo! Heh...hhhh...ehhh? Heh’ktchieew! AISHOOOO!”

Maggie groaned and blew her nose—hard—to no real avail. She didn’t realize Eli had been standing behind her the whole time until he quietly said, “Bless you.”

Maggie jumped about a foot in the air and whipped around so she was facing him, “You scared be!” she accused.

“Sorry,” Eli said, and then frowned, “You sound awful. Come to think of it, you don’t look so good, either.”

Maggie rolled her eyes, “Oh, thagk-you so buch. You just say the swee­hhhhh...heh’itcheiw! The sweetest thiggs,” she said, her sarcasm dulled somewhat by her stuffy voice.

“Do you want me to get you anything?” Eli asked.

“Like what?” Maggie asked.

“I don’t know...cold medicine or cough syrup or something,” Eli said, shrugging.

“Eli,” Maggie said, sniffling into her handkerchief, “We have to be back odstage id about fifteed bidutes. I dod’t thigk that’s edough tibe for you to go to a pharbacy add buy bedicide.”

“Well,” Eli said slowly, “There might be tea or something in the green room? I can go check for you, if you want.”

At this, Maggie smiled gratefully, “That would be wodderful. Thagks, Eli,” she said huskily, before she was bent double by a round of painful coughs.

Eli headed off to go find some tea for Maggie, lightly touching her shoulder as he left.

The electricity in that lightest of touches, Maggie vaguely noticed in her foggy state, was surprisingly intense.

[tma]

Awwww!!! Eli is being all cute and everything.

[Bgrace27]

this is really good! please please please continue

[Bluebird]

I've tried to write theater-centric sneezefics multiple times with no avail. This captures the formula for it perfectly. I work stage crew for theater- everything about this is just right and so lovely please continue!

[wannablessedbe]

adorrrrable. is this your first sneezy story??! love it, you MUST continue.

[jezebel215]

i'm grinning all silly and stuff

[hiyou9]

Since you guys have been so lovely and nice and whatnot in all your comments, here's the next bit!

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Stage Door

Part 3

Eli prided himself on being a very calm person. It took a lot—a whole lot—to worry him or rile him up in any way.

So, the fact that he was incredibly worried about the well-being of one Maggie Valentine said a lot about the way he felt for her.

Eli fortunately found a pot full of lukewarm tea resting on a hot plate in the greenroom. He turned the plate on, hoping to warm the tea before he brought it out to Maggie. The steam would help clear out her head, he hoped.

While Eli waited for the tea to heat up, he thought about Maggie. He felt awful that she felt awful, and he really wanted to do something to make her feel better. The problem was, he couldn’t think of anything.

As Eli was pouring the reheated tea into a nearby mug, inspiration hit. He grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil from a nearby table and quickly scrawled out a list. He ran backstage and grabbed one of the production assistants, “Can you go to the nearest pharmacy and grab the stuff on this list for me?” he asked, handing him the list and his credit card.

The production assistant glanced at the list and shrugged, “Yeah, sure. You sick?”

Eli paused before answering, “Something like that.”

* * *

By the time the show was wrapping up for the night, Maggie was pretty sure she’d never felt so lousy before in her life. Rarely getting sick definitely had its perks—the biggest one being she rarely got sick.

But, it did have its downsides: anytime Maggie ever did get sick, she really had no idea how to cope. By the time the cast had its final curtain call, she was ready to collapse.

But finally—finally—the show was done for the night and she could go home, crawl into bed, and sleep for twelve straight hours. The rest of the cast was busy chatting and laughing—excited that yet another show had gone so well.

“Hey, Maggie!” Katie, one of Maggie’s cast-mates called, “We’re going out for drinks and appetizers. Care to join?”

Maggie smiled weakly, “Thagks, Katie, but I’b feeligg sort of udder the weather. I thigk I’b just goigg to go hobe add go to bed,” she said, before letting out a quavering, “Hah...a’ishoo! Ishoo!”

“Ooh, you don’t sound so good,” Katie said with concern, “You should probably get yourself to a doctor tomorrow.”

“That’s the plad,” Maggie said, before coughing a set of rattling, wheezy coughs, “Ow,” she winced when she was done, rubbing her chest.

Katie squeezed her shoulder sympathetically as she left, “Feel better!” she said, “Oh, and Maggie?”

“Yeah?” Maggie said.

“Someone left these bags of stuff on a table with a note. It had your name on it,” Katie said on her way out the door.

Maggie frowned, and walked over to the table Katie had been referring to. There were, indeed, two plastic bags with a note attached to one of them. The note was scrawled on a sheet of paper that looked like it had been hastily torn from a pad. She picked it up and read it.

Being sick sucks. Hopefully, this will make it suck less. Take this stuff and use it to get better.

Love,

Me

Maggie began looking through the bag—a small smile on her face. There were three different kinds of herbal tea, a box of Puff’s Plus tissues, packets of Emergen-C, a carton of orange juice, cough drops, cold medicine, cough syrup, cherry throat spray, a thermometer, a tub of Vicks Vapo-Rub, citrus vanilla scented hand sanitizer, and two DVDs—You’ve Got Mail and As Good as it Gets. It wasn’t until she got to the bottom of the second bag that she found the other note. That one read:

P.S.

Look behind you

Maggie turned around slowly, and there was Eli. “I hoped it was from you,” she whispered.

* * *

Eli was dumbstruck by how beautiful Maggie looked, even in sickness—he thought it might’ve been her pallor. It gave her this...innocent aura. Or maybe it was the fact that she looked so sweet and young and vulnerable; Eli was tempted to hold her in his arms and not let go until she felt well again.

Maggie’s voice shook him out of his reverie, “Eli?”

“Yeah?” Eli said, a little nervously.

“Do yohhhh...heh...eh...eh’itchiew! Tshieew! Do you bind if I cobe hobe with you? I...I dod’t wadt to idtrude, but...I just feel...spectacularly awful add the last thigg I wadt to do is go hobe all by...byself...,” Maggie’s voice trailed off with a slight hitch, and she began to cry.

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry,” Eli said in alarm, and awkwardly took Maggie in his arms, “Sure you can come home with me. I’ll take care of you, okay?”

He felt Maggie nod, and then he felt her inhale sharply, “Hehhh...hhhhh...h’ktchieeeww! Nxt! Nxt! Nxt! HETCHIEEW!”

A light mist hit Eli’s shirt, and Maggie picked her head up to look at him. She looked horrified, “Oh, by God, I ab so, so, sorry! I tried to stifle—,” she started, but Eli held up his hand to quiet her.

“No worries,” he said, laughing a little, “Luckily, I own more than just the shirt on my back.”

Maggie laughed a hiccoughing little laugh that quickly turned into tight, congested coughs.

Connor rubbed her back until they subsided, “Let’s get you back to my place,” he murmured, and Maggie nodded tiredly.

[Bgrace27]

awwwww its sooooo sweet. please please please continue!

[jezebel215]

soooo goood.

I want to be Maggie!

and Connor..... go figure :-)

[hiyou9]

Haha, thanks

[rhombohedron]

This is adorable.

[hiyou9]

Awww, thank-you so much!

[hiyou9]

More? I think yes

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Stage Door

Part 4

A little over an hour later, Maggie was curled up under a blanket on the living room sofa of Eli’s spacious apartment. She was feeling a range of very conflicting emotions—she was incredibly grateful that Eli had let her come back to his apartment, but she also felt a little awkward about being cared for. And she wasn’t exactly thrilled with the fact she’d sneezed on his shirt or cried in front of him, either. Most of all, she was confused. She’d always sort of—okay, really—liked Eli, but she hadn’t wanted to act on it. So...what did this night mean? Was he just being nice? Where did it leave them? Was there a them?

As Maggie was pondering these things from under her blanket, Eli was putting the finishing touches on a mug of Echinacea tea. When it was done, he placed in on a small saucer and brought it to Maggie, “Here you go,” he said cheerfully, handing it to her before sitting down in the chair across from her.

“Oh, thagk-you, Eli,” Maggie said as she gratefully accepted the tea.

Maggie brought the mug close to her face and breathed in the steam, sighing happily when she felt the congestion in her head and chest immediately begin to loosen. Unfortunately, this did cause the floodgates in her nose open, and it began to run like a faucet. Maggie sniffed heavily, and groped for a tissue from the box on the table next to her, as her eyes began to close with an impending sneeze, “Hehh...hhhh...hetchiew! Chiew! Hih...ihhhh...ishoo!” Maggie sniffled woozily and said, “Oh, my, bless me.”

“Bless you, indeed,” Eli said, smiling slightly, “How’s the tea?”

Maggie held up a finger as she swallowed her mouthful, “It’s perfect. Thank-you, Eli. For all of this,” she said shyly.

“Glad to do it,” Eli said simply.

Neither one of them said anything for awhile. They just sat in silence—a surprisingly comfortable one—as Maggie sipped her tea.

Eli finally broke it, “I have soup, too—if you’re, you know, interested,” he said, sounding a bit unsure.

Maggie shook her head, “No—no. Thanks, but...I’m not very hungry. I never am, when I’m sick,” she explained.

Eli frowned, “When was the last time you ate?” he asked.

Maggie thought for a moment, “I had some tea and a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast,” she said finally.

Eli stared at Maggie, “That’s all you’ve had to eat today?” he asked incredulously.

Maggie shrugged, “Well...yeah,” she said, a little embarrassed.

“Maggie,” Eli said, frustrated, “You need to take better care of yourself. If you don’t eat something, you’re just going to get sicker. You need strength when you’re trying to fight something off! Even if you aren’t hungry, you still need—,”

“Hehh...hhhhhh...HETCHIEEEEW! Maggie sneezed, unintentionally interrupting Eli, “Sorry, Eli,” she whispered, embarrassed.

Eli sighed, “It’s okay,” he said, his annoyance having vanished, “It’s just...I’m worried about you. That’s all.”

Maggie tried to fight the enormous grin that was threatening to split her entire face in two, “That’s really nice of you,” she said sweetly.

It was Eli’s turn to fight an enormous grin, “Yeah...well,” he said with a shrug.

They lapsed into silence again.

“God!” Maggie thought to herself, “You’re such an idiot. Say something already!”

* * *

“Jesus!” Eli thought to himself, “Say something to her, your moron! You’re finally alone together and all you can do is gape like a goldfish.”

“So,” he started awkwardly, “The tea...,” but he trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to say next.

Maggie smiled, “What about it?” she asked patiently.

“It’s...good, right?” Eli asked, mentally cringing.

“It’s lovely,” Maggie said as she pulled her blanket more tightly around her.

“Are you cold?” Eli asked, worried.

“Oh, only a little bit,” Maggie said, attempting to be nonchalant, though the shivering probably negated that a bit.

“You’re shivering!” Eli exclaimed, “I just realized—we haven’t even taken your temperature.”

“Oh,” Maggie said, trying to wave his concern away, “You don’t need to do that. Really. It’s fine.”

“But we need to find out if you have a fever,” Eli pointed out, “So, if you do, you can take something for it.”

“I’b nod a big fad of medicide,” Maggie said, sticking her tongue out, “I should behhhhh...heh...eh...hhhh...HETCHIEW! H’ESHIEW! Tshiew! Be fide without it.”

“Oh, come on,” Eli said, eyebrows raised, “What are you, five? It’s just medicine. You sound all congested again. Take it.”

“It tastes terrible!” she whined.

Eli sighed. He wanted Maggie to get better, but he knew she felt lousy and wasn’t in any mood to do something she didn’t feel like doing. He decided to compromise, “Okay...how about, if your temperature is 100.5 or lower, no cold medicine. 100.6 or higher, you suck it up and take it. Deal?”

Maggie sighed huffily, like this was the biggest hardship in the world, “Fide. Deal.”

Eli grabbed the thermometer from the coffee table, and gave it to Maggie, who reluctantly stuck it under her tongue.

“Just so you dow,” she said, her voice muffled by the thermometer, “I’b bedtally willing by fever to be below 100.”

Eli snorted, “Yeah. Because will-power is commonly recognized as a fever reducer in the medical community,” he said sarcastically.

The thermometer beeped a few seconds later. Maggie took it out and glanced down at it, “Perfectly norbal!” she said, moving to shut it off and put it back on the table “Okay, let’s bove od—,” but Eli grabbed it before she had the chance.

“101.7,” he said, smirking, “Nyquil it is.”

“Oh, cobe od!” Maggie griped, “Do I—,” a sudden spasm of painful, congested coughs cut her off mid-complaint.

When she was finished coughing, she looked up, only to see Eli standing over her, “Take the medicine,” he said, offering it to her.

Maggie sniffled pitifully and pouted, “Fide,” she said stuffily, “But odly so you’ll quit buggigg be about it.”

Eli poured a dosage into the little plastic measuring cup and handed it to Maggie, “Pinch your nose as it goes down,” he offered.

Maggie raised her eyebrows sardonically, “Dot sure that’s really all the deccessary, Eli," she said.

Eli laughed, “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he agreed.

Maggie swallowed the cherry medicine in one gulp, grimacing, “Disgustigg,” she said, “It’s albost not eved worth it.”

“Well,” said Eli, sitting down next to Maggie on the sofa, “You were such a good girl for taking the medicine—hey, don’t give me that face!—Don’t you want to watch a movie? You’re not going to get to if you keep making faces like that at me.”

Maggie grabbed a tissue and blew her nose before answering, “I would very much like to watch a movie,” she said sweetly, “But just so you know, I’ll probably be dead asleep on your lap in a Nyquil coma before it’s even been on for twenty minutes.”

Eli smiled a little, “I think I can live with that,” he murmured.

[BlueKeeper]

<3

[tma]

Awwwwwww!!!!

And I'm with her on *some* of the cold meds.... although the cherry flavoured stuff..... Mmmmmmm.... yums! (yeah.... am odd )

Great job!

[hiyou9]

Sooo...this part is a lot longer than I meant it to be, but whatever I just got so involved in the story. So, anyway, enjoy!

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Stage Door

Part 5

In spite of still feeling pretty awful, Maggie was...happy. She was warm underneath her blanket, and the Nyquil was already starting to kick in and make her drowsy; but she was especially happy Eli was sitting less than a foot from her. She wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him, but she wasn’t sure if that’s what he wanted.

As the opening credits for As Good as It Gets played, a silent battle was raging inside Maggie’s head.

Do I ask to lie down on top of him? Is that too forward? What if he says no? But...what if he says yes?! What do I do then?! And how would I sit? Would I just lean on his shoulder, or would I lie completely in his lap?

“I’ve always loved this movie,” Eli said suddenly, shaking Maggie from her thoughts?

“Yeah, me too,” Maggie said, smiling at him, “Helen Hunt is such a good actress. I loved Mad About You when I was a kid.”

“Jack Nicholson made me want to become an actor,” Eli said pensively.

“Oh yeah?” Maggie said curiously, “Why’s that?”

“I begged my Dad to let me stay up late one Halloween so I could watch The Shining with him. I think I was eight or nine. His performance in that movie...God. It was incredible. I didn’t understand a lot of what happened, but what I did understand was that Jack Nicholson held me in the palm of his hand and didn’t let go. When the movie was over, I knew that’s what I wanted to do when I grew up. I wanted to be able to take a character and make it a person,” Eli explained.

“My parents took me to New York when I was nine,” Maggie began, “December, that was when we went. It was a big trip for Christmas. We were walking to go see Beauty and the Beast, and I got separated from them. I don’t remember how, but I did. And I was scared and cold, and you know, no one had cell phones then, not really. And I didn’t have money for a pahhhh...hhhh...hieshiew! Pay phone. So, I walked into a theatre, meaning to find a grown-up and tell them what had happened. But then I saw the doors to the audience were open, and...I snuck in. No one noticed me—I was just this little girl. The ushers probably figured my parents were already in the auhhhh...hhhh...hih...ishoo In the audience. The musical was Guys and Dolls. The revival, with Faith Prince. I had never, ever seen an actress like Faith Prince before in my life. She was incredible. So incredible, in fact, that people clapped when she walked onstage—she hadn’t even done anything, they were clapping in anticipation of what she would do. As I watched, I realized something. I wanted that. To be so good, to be so loved and famous that people just get excited seeing you wahhhh...hahh...a’ishoo! Walk onstage.”

Eli was quiet for a moment before he said, “Did your parents ever find you?”

Maggie laughed sleepily, “Oh, yeah. They had the police searching for me and everything. I got in enormous trouble, but it wahhhh...hehhh...hetchiew! It was worth it.”

“Are your parents glad you’re an actress?” Eli asked.

“Sort of,” Maggie said with a sniffle, “They...hhhh...heh...het’chiew! They got divorced when I was eleven. My mom had primary custody of me, but I was always closer with my dad. My mom always wanted me to be...I don’t know, a lawyer like her, probably. My dad was always willing to just accept me as I was. It’s...weird between them. They get along, but not really. It’s all forced politeness and niceties and stuff. Below that, you can tell that they sort of want to kill each other.”

Maggie sniffled again, and grabbed a handful of tissues and blew her nose. She sighed without really meaning to, and leaned her head back on the sofa.

“Hey,” Eli said, “Do you want to...you know...lean on me? It might be more comfortable?”

Maggie smiled shyly, “Yeah, okay. I’d like that,” she said.

Eli pulled Maggie closer, and she leaned into him gratefully. He was warm and even in her stuffy state she could tell he smelled...wonderful. Like leather and something spicy and just a hint of cologne; he smelled like a guy.

Yes, Maggie may have been sick, but she was still very, very, very happy.

* * *

Eli couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so content. Having Maggie leaning on him while they watched a movie together, it just felt so...right. It made him realize that this was something he wanted to happen every night for the rest of his whole life.

He began to absentmindedly run his fingers through Maggie’s hair. She sighed, and he abruptly stopped, “Am I bothering you?” Eli asked anxiously.

“No,” murmured Maggie, “Feels...wonderful. Keep going, please?”

Eli smiled slightly and said, “You got it, kid.”

Maggie sniffled and said sleepily, “Nohhhhh...hehhh...het’chiew! Chiew! Not a kid. I have...an old soul.”

Eli grinned. The Nyquil was working fast, he figured, seeing as she no longer seemed worried about sneezing on or in front of him. Plus, she wasn’t really making much sense when she talked.

“An old soul, huh?” Eli teased.

Maggie nodded groggily, “Yeah...ohhhhh....hih...ishoo! Hi’ishoo! Old soul...is what I have. College professor told me that...one time. We had a thing...sort of. Nineteen. Thahhhh....hih...ishoo! That’s how old I was.”

Eli stared, “What?” he said incredulously.

But Maggie merely yawned and buried her head deeper in Eli’s shirt, “‘M tired. Gonna go to...sleep now,” she mumbled, hardly awake at all anymore.

And she did, in fact, go to sleep. Eli felt her breathing even out and steady, though it was still fairly wheezy, which he made a mental note of. They would definitely be making a trip to the doctor tomorrow.

Eli decided it was best to let Maggie sleep for the rest of the movie and wake her once it was done. He tried to focus on it, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about what Maggie had said.

Had Maggie really had a thing with a professor? He knew she had gone to NYU and dropped out after her sophomore year. She’d never disclosed why, though, and he’d always assumed it had had something to do with money. NYU’s tuition didn’t come cheap.

But maybe—maybe—it was because of the thing with her professor. Could they kick someone out of college for that?

What did their thing even constitute? Did it involve sex? Or was it just...a friendship? But, if it had just been platonic, wouldn’t she have just said they were friends? The word thing usually implied something beyond friendship, didn’t it?

Eli looked down at the peacefully sleeping Maggie, suddenly struck by how truly vulnerable she looked. She was always so poised and confident onstage, that he forgot she was only twenty-five. She wasn’t much older than a girl.

He felt a sudden surge of hot anger towards the professor that Maggie had had the thing with. She’d only been nineteen. He’d probably taken complete advantage of her and left her heartbroken.

About forty-five minutes into the movie, Eli paused in methodically running his hands through Maggie’s hair to feel her forehead. He frowned—it was still pretty warm. The Nyquil should’ve brought her fever down by now.

He glanced at the clock—past midnight. It was probably time that he got her ready for bed. “Maggie,” he whispered, nudging her gently, “Maggie, come on. Time for bed.”

Maggie groaned softly and buried her face in Eli’s neck, “Dod’t wadda. Jusdt led be sleeb here. So...cobfy. Cad I...hehhh....hhhhh...hetchiew! Cad I stday dowd here?” she pleaded sleepily, staring up at him with bleary eyes.

“Nope, you need to sleep in a real bed, kiddo,” Eli said softly.

“Will you carry be?” she murmured.

“Sure thing,” Eli said.

Eli stood and gathered Maggie into his arms, frowning for what felt like the millionth time when he realized how light she was. Did she ever eat?

He walked down the hall to his bedroom, and gently placed Maggie under the covers. She immediately turned over on her right side and snuggled down under them.

“I’ll be back in a second, okay, Maggie? I just need to get some stuff to get you through the night,” Eli said quietly.

Maggie nodded groggily, and Eli crept out of the room. He went to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, got the thermometer from the coffee table, the box of tissues, and the tub of Vick’s.

When Eli walked back into the bedroom, Maggie was not in the bed. He looked around, worried, and then heard retching sounds coming from his bathroom. He rushed in, and found Maggie splayed on the floor, her head buried in the toilet, expelling the contents of her stomach—which, based on what she’d told him, were fortunately probably very little. Eli felt a pang of sympathy go through him.

He crouched down behind Maggie and gently rubbed her back, “Hey,” he soothed, “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

Maggie looked up at Eli—her face flushed and sweaty, her eyes filled with tears, “Eli,” she hiccoughed, “I dod’t f-feel so g-good.”

“I know,” he said, “I know. Is your stomach settled for now?”

Maggie paused for a moment, then nodded woozily.

“Okay, then,” said Eli, “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“Eli,” Maggie whispered, shivering slightly “I-I dod’t th-think I c-cad stadd.”

Wordlessly, Eli scooped her up in his arms and deposited her in his bed again. “I need to take your temperature, okay?” he said.

Maggie nodded, her eyes shut, and allowed Eli to slip the thermometer under her tongue. A minute later, it beeped, and Maggie was gripped by a spasm of painful coughing that bent her double over the side of the bed, “This...is...awful,” she gasped when she was done.

Eli handed her the glass of water as he examined the little numbers on the thermometer. Maggie gratefully gulped the water down.

Eli scowled at the thermometer. 103.1. “Maggie,” he said, “I’m going to get a cool washcloth to put on your forehead, okay? You’re fever is higher than I’d like it to be, but it’s too soon for you to take more medicine.”

“Dod’t go,” Maggie whimpered, grabbing Eli’s arm weakly.

“I’ll be right back,” Eli reassured her, “I’m just going to the bathroom.”

Eli dampened one of his washcloths, and went back out and gently rubbed it on Maggie’s face and arms.

“Eli,” she sighed, almost asleep again.

“Yeah?” Eli said, equally quietly.

“I love you so much,” she murmured.

“Oh, Maggie,” Eli whispered, “I love you, too.”

[hiyou9]

Oh, whoop--I forgot to write this and and I don't know how to edit: emetophobe warning for this bit. Sorry!

[ID2006]

Dying for more.

[hiyou9]

Oh, yay I'll try to write more when I have some free time--aka, after this week, because this week is final's week Boo.

[jezebel215]

with icky on this. more please?