Gingerbread Man by Patt

Gingerbread Man - Patt

Jim lay in the hospital bed, thrashing about like crazy. His fever was still sitting at 102.2 and the doctors said it was finally starting to drop.

Blair knew there was nothing he could do, but he kept trying to talk to Jim anyhow. The doctor had told him he was hallucinating and he probably didn’t hear a word Blair was saying. But Blair wouldn’t give up. He baked some of Jim’s favorite cookies and brought them up to the hospital, hoping that the smell alone would start to help him get better.

Jim looked at Blair and said, “You look good enough to eat.”

Simon cleared his throat and said, “Do you want me to leave?”

“No…He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“You’re one of my favorite things in the world,” Jim said happily.

“What is he talking about Sandburg?” Simon wanted to know.

“Hell if I know,” Blair replied.

“You smell good too,” Jim whispered to Blair.

Blair blushed and said, “Maybe it’s the cookies. He loves Gingerbread cookies, so I made him some.”

Simon asked, “Do you want a cookie, Ellison?”

“I didn’t realize that you guys came that big,” Jim said.

Blair burst out laughing and said, “He thinks we’re cookies.”

“Oh for crying out loud, he doesn’t either,” Simon grumbled.

Blair got a cookie for Simon and said, “Eat one.”

Simon took a bite out of the cookie and Jim almost sat up in bed, in shock. “You eat your own?”

Simon burst out laughing and so did Blair. Blair pushed Jim back down on the bed and said, “He’s a bad Gingerbread Man.”

Simon glared at Blair and then said, “He looks like he’s sleeping finally. And look, his temperature is coming down a little bit.”

“Thank God, I would hate to have him go after you all hooked up on IVs and stuff. He was pretty upset with you,” Blair teased.

“You did that on purpose. You knew he was going to say that didn’t you?”

“Of course I didn’t know that. How would I know what a man with a high fever is going to say,” Blair stated simply.

“Just remember what he said to you at first. It’s going to be going all around the bullpen.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Blair asked feigning innocence.

“He said you looked good enough to eat. He was looking at you, not a cookie,” Simon commented, “is there anything you need to get off your chest?”

“Oh fine. Upset the poor sick man while he’s under medication and fevers. He’ll probably dump me now,” Blair said.

“Why in the world would he dump you?”

“Because I hang around with Gingerbread Men that eat their own. He’s got his standards,” Blair kidded.

“Okay, you win. Neither of us brings this up to him. But you owe me a batch of these cookies. They are really good.” Simon ate another one and smiled.

The end

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