Time Sensitive Target

Part 46 - A Fever You Can't Sweat Out

"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.