A/N: Inspired by episode 1x12, no spoilers though. And its unrelated to the previous chapter, just a one-shot in a pre-relationship between Carrie and Roe.

The knock on the door drew Roe from his dazed state, lying under his blanket on the couch staring at the television that showed whatever random movie he had eventually found himself pausing on half an hour ago. He could ignore the door, he thought.

Probably wasn't important enough for him to get up out of his warm snug spot. He had his water jug and glass in easy reaching distance and his tissues and a bin. He had some soup- he looked up at the kitchen bench and stove top from his side position on the couch, and realized that he had left the soup to warm on the stove. So he did need to get up to fetch it, he may as well check the door as he went past to the kitchen. He groaned as he stood up and shuffled over to the door.

He didn't bother with the peephole but pulled the door open straight away, and was surprised to see Detective Carrie Wells standing in front of him.

"Well, well." He starts to laugh but it turns into a small cough, "What brings you here?" he finishes after he's caught his breath.

Carrie leans against the door, a small duffel bag in hand, "Oh, you know. Friendly visit and all!" She waves her hand as if she's demonstrating her point.

Roe looks at her skeptical, "Yeah. So friendly you are. I call in sick for one day yesterday, and you're already coming to check on me the first day of the weekend? You couldn't have waited to see if I'd recovered after two more days. What gives?"

She watches him take a tissue out of his track pant bottoms and gives his nose and blow.

"I just wanted to check up on you as you said." She nods, "And, well, you had been coughing since Tuesday and we spent all of Wednesday morning driving the neighborhood in the car together…" she stops to cough and wipes her own nose with a handkerchief she's produced from somewhere, Roe's unsure of where it came from.

"You're sick."

"Wow, great work Detective. Now let me in," she waltzes in past him and places her bag beside the couch where he's clearly set things up for the next few hours. Carrie turns swiftly and glances around the apartment, she nods absentmindedly to herself. "Nice place."

"Uh, thanks." He stand there unsure of what he's meant to do with the lady who's just invited herself in when he clearly was never intending on inviting her inside. "I don't mean to be rude or anything, Carrie…but, I don't…"

"Ah, I see you have some soup already for us. Good," Carrie rummages and finds some bowls and starts spooning together helpings before Roe can formulate his next plan of attack, or was that defense? With Carrie he was never too sure, and it certainly didn't help that he had his nose and head stuffed to the brim and he could barely string together a sentence worthy of a five year old.

He blinked and took a sip of his water, and sat back on the couch. Hoping that his unwanted visitor was just a dream he pulled up the blanket over his legs and tried to concentrate on the movie again. He felt a shift in the couch and a warm body sat down beside him, handing him a bowl of steaming soup and pulling the blanket over to cover the other side of the couch as well. He didn't turn his head, he concentrated on his soup, feeling the warmth of the liquid coat his sore throat and give him some much needed energy to keep his head upright.

When he finished his soup he placed the bowl onto the coffee table in front of him and turns to face his 'guest'. She gives him a tired smile as she takes another spoonful of the soup. Roe sees the lines on her face and the redness of both her eyes and nose, and he realizes that she's in as much of a state as he is. Possibly more so, she's just better at hiding it than him.

Something in him gives way a little, and he sighs turning back to the television and snuggling deeper into his blanket and couch, secretly glad for the extra warmth of the person beside him.

"Why did you come here?" he asks her just as he's nodding off to sleep, nudged out of his stupor when she placed her bowl down a moment ago.

"Because, you got me sick," he feels her snuggle into the shared blanket and her foot brushes his knee as she does, "And since you got me sick, you can make me unsick."

"Unsick?" he barely retorts as he finds his eyes dropping closed.

"Shh, y'know what I meant." A shoulder touches his own, comforting him.

He does, but he doesn't reply, his only response is his head gently falling to rest on her shoulder as he sleeps.