To try to be better is to be better.
Charlotte Cushman (1816 - 1876), quoted in O Magazine, December 2003
Jennifer Shepard wasn't entirely sure how she managed to crack open an eye to greet her visitor, but considering she had a very nasty bout of the flu and had spent the last three days on the couch in her living room, she thought it an achievement.
Her ex-partner stood before her, taking in the blankets and her pajamas. If she'd had the energy, she would have told him to get out until she was more decent, but he'd seen it all before and she knew she would be wasting her breath. He placed the back of his hand on her forehand and she instinctively leant into his cold touch.
"Thought you were joking about the flu," he informed her.
She glared at him as much as was possible; she had a feeling it failed completely. "You think I'd voluntarily leave you in charge of my agency?"
His face broke out in his familiar crooked grin.
"Jethro," she warned.
"Relax," he told her. "It's in one piece. Fornell was interested in moving into your office – said it had a nice view."
She decided to give up on the conversation and snuggled deeper into her blankets. He was either going to tell her about how he'd wrecked her precious agency or how he was undoing all her hard work, and she was too tired to get angry at him.
"Want some chicken soup?"