deconstructing this into cubes as soon as it is cooled, is it entirely necessary to braid it?" Martin asked as he carefully coated his hands with flour per instructions. It was not an overly pleasurable feeling, but probably better than having the dough stick to his skin.
Carol measured out a sixth piece of dough onto Arthur's kitchen scale. "I have not done this since I was seventeen, which puts me on very thin ice with Nana Bloom. We are doing the braid today then turning it into stuffing tomorrow."
"You don't have to do this," Arthur tried to call out from his couch. "I will be fine tomorrow." Martin heard him take a breath mid-sentence. "And we'll have Thanksgiving in the cafeteria."
"You will not be fine tomorrow," Carol called back. "Because you have the flu."
"I do not. It's a little cold. And if I have the flu, why are you all here?"
"Because, when the memo went around, we all got our flu shots like good little government agents instead of waiting to catch it from a kid at the library."
Arthur muttered to himself. Two days earlier Martin had found him slumped over his keyboard with a fever of one hundred and three. He wondered if the flash of panic he had felt when brushing the burning skin was the same feeling Arthur had when he had found him passed out in his car.
That had caused a bio-contamination lockdown of the building of course, whereas Martin was quickly able to recognize the flu symptoms that had already taken down a number of agents. He’d flicked off a quick message to Arthur's supervisor and his own, then taken Arthur home to feed him chicken broth and acetaminophen.
He heard the door to Arthur's apartment open along with the rustlings of various bags. Doctor Jennifer Hernandez placed several grocery bags on the kitchen counter before collecting a quick kiss from her girlfriend.
"Okay," Jennifer pulled a bottle of Gatorade and a Blu-ray out of the last bag once the rest were emptied. "Explain to me how Mr. Movie over there has never seen Jurassic Park?"
"I grew up in a household where fossils were a creation of the Devil to lure the intelligent from the righteous path. Some things fell through the cracks." Arthur had uncurled himself from his place on the couch and stumbled into the kitchen.
Jennifer blinked at him a few times before shaking her head. "And I thought growing up Catholic was a trip."
He took the Gatorade from Jennifer and quickly chugged half the bottle. Martin could see where he had been sweating and knew the fever from earlier in the day must have finally broken, though if the pattern of the previous two days held, it would return in the evening.
Carol let out a long breath. "Well, it's going to become croutons." Martin looked over the challah bread and could give no judgment.
"Now what do we do?" he asked.
"Now we put it in a very low oven to rise, then wash our hands and go watch a movie that, while scientifically inaccurate, was very important at a pivotal stage in my life."
Martin was confused but was trying to be sociable and expand his own understanding of popular culture. He began washing the flour and dough from his hands.
"It gave you an interest in dinosaurs?" He did have a vague idea of the plot and it would explain her romantic involvement with a paleontologist.
"Less ‘interest in dinosaurs’ and more ‘a sweaty Laura Dern running around in cargo shorts’ let me answer a few important questions about myself."
Jennifer raised her hand and got a silent high five from Carol. Martin was still confused, and it must have shown on his face.
"They're lesbians and Laura Dern is hot," Arthur supplied between sips of Gatorade.
"Damn hot and particularly badass in this," Carol added as she slipped the bread into the slightly warm oven. "Okay, let's get Sicky back on the couch and non-feathery dinosaurs up on the screen."
"Not sick," Arthur mumbled even as he let Martin guide him to the nest of blankets.
Jennifer put the Blu-ray in and then joined Carol on the love seat, which didn't have the best view of the television, but Martin had no doubt they had both seen the film many times as they were humming along to the music playing under the menu options.
Arthur cuddled against his side before giving his hand a tight squeeze. "I'll be fine by next week."
"Of course you will," Martin said brushing his fingers through Arthur's hair, slicked down with sweat. They would be traveling to New York early that year to attend a hearing on Environmental Protection Agency vs. Black River Spring Water Incorporated. He felt it was important to attend since he had his own lawyers supporting the EPA case, but he had learned to be honest enough with himself to know that there was no way he could face a dozen half-siblings and the memories that came with them without Arthur holding his hand.
"I think your cancan girl would look really good there." Arthur gestured with his chin towards the empty wall over the love seats. His voice was rough and still tired from his third day of illness.
Martin laced their fingers together. He had thought that himself a time or two but had yet to bring up the courage to mention it. It would be simple to move. His possessions fit into one case plus a painting.
He had no intention of leaving Arthur and Arthur had said as much to him. Only the deep rut of habit kept them living apart.
Yes. That would be good. A step. A big one. A step that at one time would have been terrifying, but now he knew there were safe arms on the other side to catch him if he couldn’t make it on his own. "We'll talk about it when you're feeling better." Arthur squeezed his hand and gave a sleepy smile. "For now, let's watch the movie."