#this is the longest fic i ever wrote i put lots of my fav trops in it hope you ENJOY

[wilgentak]

you give me fever

this fic is my manifestation for the upcoming episode "sick day"! gregory better miss janine at school and act on with that feeling! it was originally only a sickfic, but i figured that janine's birthday is also soon since she's a sagittarius, soooo i combined the two.

fandom: abbott elementary (tv series) type: sickfic meets birthday fic with lots of fluff pairing: janine x gregory pov: janine’s word count: 4,556 on ao3 as well

summary: it’s janine’s birthday and... she’s at home with a cold.

you give me fever

Janine shivers under her ochre duvet cover, even though she’s put on clothes that should warm her up: her striped woollen socks and Christmas themed pyjamas. Sure, she loves Christmas and yes, she’s the person to secretly listen to Christmas songs during summer and okay, Christmas is right around the corner, but that’s not why she’s wearing them right now. They’re the warmest outfit she owns and bonus, they’re covered with deer whose noses are as red as hers right now. She could be wearing them because her heater is broken, but no. It’s Janine’s birthday and she’s got a cold.

Obviously, this was not how she planned this day to go. Her plans were to go to work and tonight, meet up with Erica. Yesterday, she daydreamed (during cooking, not a great time, she almost burnt herself) about walking through the doors of Abbott, stepping into to the staff room and seeing the incredible, thoughtful, creative surprise her (work) friends had orchestrated for her. Up next, her students, with their smiley little faces, would sing Happy Birthday to her. And after that, she would meet up with Erica and head into town for the most fun night ever. They would go to the street food festival downtown or a comedy show or a glow-in-the-dark mini golf course. Or all those places.

Alas. Even though Janine keeps her side of the street clean, apparently, today, karma and she don’t vibe like that. It’s fine. Technically, her birthday is a day like any other. She could celebrate her birthday next week. She could find out the surprise (which, at this point, only exists in her fantasy, its presence not yet confirmed) waiting for her at school later. She could be sung to by her talented students later. She could head into town and make a fool of herself together with Erica later.

That’s what she tells herself as she sneezes, stuffing a tissue to her nose. It’s fine. You’ll be fine.

She spends her morning sleeping, tucked in bed with a hot water bottle at her feet. During her lunch break, Erica video calls, congratulating her and wishing her well in the same sentence. She asks a million times if Janine needs anything and how she’s feeling. Promising Janine they’ll head into town the moment she’s her old self again. Janine’s glad she welcomed Erica back into her life after Halloween. The call wears her out a bit, though. So, after they hang up, she tries to get cosy on the couch with a fleece blanket and watch some TV. The rest of the afternoon passes by with sniffing, sneezing, and shivering.

It's around five when she realises she’s doing worse than earlier this day. After sleeping all morning, she perked up a bit, but as the afternoon dragged on, she’s feeling more and more uneasy. She’s not hungry, but her breakfast early this morning feels far away. Her blanket is not keeping her as warm as she would like it to. She debates whether she should take some painkillers, but her thoughts are interrupted when she’s hears the doorbell buzzing.

She’s trying to remember if she expects a package to arrive. Unfortunately, but expectedly, her brain is not cooperating. So she bundles up her burnt orange blanket across her shoulders and shuffles to her intercom. Getting up was a bad idea, because now she feels light in her head. She brings the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” Her voice weak.

“Hi. Janine? We, at Abbott, made you something. Can I bring it up?”

She’s not sure she’s hearing correctly. Is Gregory standing in front of her apartment building? If she did hear his voice, she’s having a hard time processing what that means.

“Janine? You there?”

“Yes! I am. Sorry, zoned out a bit. I’ll buzz you through.”

She does, and hangs up the phone. Then she stands there as it dawns to her. Gregory is here. He’s never been here. She’s wearing Christmas pyjamas. There’s at least a hundred tissues spread on the floor. Her hair is a mess. And she feels dizzy.

On a better, brighter day, this would be her cue for quickly trying to clean her living room, scanning the room for dirty dishes, clearing out her side table. But right now, even standing is too much, so she leans against the wall next to her intercom, until Gregory rings her doorbell.

She opens the door.

He’s standing in the hallway in all his glory. Holding a big bag in his right hand.

The strength is leaving her legs, but she’s happy to see him. She smiles, feeling self-conscious. And you know, not well.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he smiles back.

“Come in.” She makes room for him and gestures at the coat rack next to the front door. “You can leave your coat and shoes here.”

“Thanks.” He puts down the bag and does so. “Is it okay I’m here?”

Janine nods. Then regrets it because her dizziness is now ringing in her ears. She’s sweating, but she’s cold. Gregory is looking at her, a frown forming between his brows. She’s not sure what kind of face she’s pulling, but she doesn’t want him to worry.

“Hey, are you alright?” He takes a step towards her.

“Yes, I’m fi–” she starts to say, but she cannot finish, because suddenly, her legs give out. And only distantly she feels the impact of the side of her body against his chest as his arms embrace her. The next moment she’s laying on the floor, still caught in her blanket. She looks up at Gregory, who’s on his knees, bent over her.

“Janine? How are you feeling?” His voice is soft. Not at all distressed, what she would be if someone next to her fainted. Her body is the heaviest it’s ever been.

“Tired.”

“You fainted.”

“I figured.”

Janine tries to sit up, leaning on her elbows.

“No rush, take it slow,” he urges.

She does. And slowly, she’s able to sit up, leaning back on her hands.

“I think I wanna rest for a bit.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“Thank you. And sorry.”

“It’s totally fine.”

Bit by bit, she makes her way up to standing, with Gregory watching her every move. She shuffles to her bedroom. Takes some painkillers on the way. In the back of her head there’s a voice trying to point her attention to the fact that Gregory is in her apartment, that he can see her messed up bed, the stuffed animal (Kurt the koala) she’s had since she was a little girl. She cannot seem to care though, because she’s distracted by how good it feels to slip under her duvet.

“Before you fall asleep, what is your favourite type of soup?”

She meets his gaze; he’s standing in the doorway of her bedroom. Despite feeling the heaviness of sleep pulling her down, she can’t help but let out a little laugh. Is he for real?

“It’s spicy tomato soup. What are you planning to do with that info?”

He grins. “You’ll see.”

She doesn’t imagine the possible scenarios for long. Because after pulling Kurt close to her, she cannot seem to keep her eyes open and she drifts into sleep.

It’s dark out when Janine wakes. Seems like Gregory closed the door and her curtains too. Sleeping during the day is the strangest thing, but she’s not sweating anymore and the extreme coldness in her bones is gone, so she did the right thing. She’s glad her nap and the painkillers worked.

She hears water running and clanging of what sounds like dishes. Then, miraculously, her stuffed nose is able to identify the smell coming from under her bedroom door. Food.

Janine’s belly rumbles loudly.

For a moment, she braces herself to leave the warmth of her bed. Then she flips her duvet and reaches her feet to the ground. Once again, she grabs her loyal plaid, wrapping it around her body. She makes her way to the door but stops in front of the mirror on top of her dresser. Good to know her nose is still red as Melissa’s cape on Halloween this year. She pulls her hair into a half bun, noticing she’s feeling a bit embarrassed. She shouldn’t expect to look like her usual self when she’s down with a cold. But Gregory is on the other side of the door. And somehow that makes her want to make an effort to look presentable.

She opens her bedroom door and steps into the aromatic kitchen. Standing by the sink is Gregory, doing the dishes. He looks up, midway scrubbing, a trace of worry on his face.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

Janine is stunned. She looks at the pan on the stove. The collection of clean dishes behind Gregory. The floor, which is empty of tissues, but now covered with balloons in all colours imaginable. She feels a wave of gratefulness wash over her.

“Gregory, oh my god, I can’t believe this. This is crazy. You didn’t have to do all this.”

His smiles at her. “I wanted to. And you’re not feeling well, so it’s the least I could do.”

“Thank you. Really.”

She drops the blanket on her couch and walks over to stand next to him. “I’m feeling a lot better, sleeping helped.”

“I’m glad. Are you hungry?”

“Yes, actually. What did you make?” She walks over to the stove and peers into the pan. Steamy, red soup that smells wonderful. “You… made my favourite soup. You’re gonna make me cry.”

Her overly, but truly genuinely, touched expression makes Gregory let out a laugh.

She points Gregory to the high shelf that has her bowls on it (glad to not use her improvised stool for once) and pours both bowls full. They sit at her round table.

The soup tastes incredible. And not only because she’s hungry. Gregory is a good cook. It doesn’t surprise her.

“This is delicious,” she tells him. He answers with a smile. The steam of the soup opens her nose. It’s a welcome sensation.

“I like your outfit.”

“Thanks, where’s yours?”

“I left my Christmas sweater at home. Hope you can forgive me.”

“Oh? I didn’t peg you as a person who owns Christmas themed clothes.”

“It was a gift. But it’s very soft. It’s a green turtleneck, with a huge deer face on the front.”

Janine grins, imagining Gregory with the jumper on. A proud, stoic Mr. Darcy. She wonders whether he knows his sweater is a reference to Bridget Jones’s Diary. And she wonders who gave him the gift. His mom? Or maybe an ex-lover?

“Did your family give that to you?”

Gregory snorts, spoon full of soup mid-air. Janine is surprised by his reaction.

“No, my dad hates Christmas,” Gregory answers, his voice almost devoid of any emotion. Almost, because Janine’s sure she catches some bitterness in there. She waits for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. Silently, he continues to eat his soup. She follows his movements with her eyes.

“When I was sick as a kid, my mom didn’t really care for me. I learned to take care of myself.”

She didn’t realise that was on the tip of her tongue, but it’s out before she knows it. He meets her gaze. She breaks eye contact immediately. Her turn to stare at her bowl and lift a spoon to her mouth.

“That must’ve been tough.” The softest voice.

“It was.” Her throat feels tighter than usual. She forces out her next words. “It’s alright, though. It could’ve been worse. It meant I had more cooking and cleaning experience than the other kids in my class. Which paid off when I finally moved out.”

She laughs a little. It feels fake, she knows it. But she doesn’t want him to pity her. She’s glad he’s silent.

“My dad is all about tradition and sobriety. Whenever I got too excited as a kid, he would put me on time-out. Everything that came with Christmas, like the presents, decorations and Santa Claus, which made me ecstatic of course, was a reason for him to discipline me.”

She looks up at him. He gives her a small smile, almost apologetic.  

“But the one thing I love most about kids is their carefree enthusiasm.”

Gregory shrugs. “Guess my dad didn’t think that way.”

She’s silent for a bit.

“That explains why you’re so composed,” she says, before quickly adding: “Which is not a bad thing by the way, I think it’s a great personality trait.”

His smile is back, a bit bigger this time. “You taking care of yourself as a kid explains your resilience.”

She answers his smile. It’s true. Her memories of growing up aren’t always great, but her childhood did bring her to where she is right now. And it resulted in the traits she’s most proud of: her spirit and optimism. It’s reassuring Gregory can see that.

She remembers the conversation they had on the day Tariq performed for F.A.D.E. at Abbott. They were standing in front of the school, sharing an umbrella he held up, in the rain. It confused her that his dad didn’t want him to be a teacher. She agreed with what Gregory said that day: it shouldn’t matter what his dad thinks, it should be about what makes him, Gregory, happy. It doesn’t surprise her that Gregory’s dad dislikes Christmas. Janine’s mom couldn’t be the mom she wanted and often needed. Maybe Gregory’s dad was the same.  

Despite that, he turned into this person who decided to take a chance and continue teaching, because he thought it could make him happy. And even more, he showed up on her birthday, even though she has a cold, making her favourite soup, cleaning up her apartment, decorating it. Her heart inflates like one of the balloons covering the floor. She’s glad he’s here. It makes her see him in a new light.

They finish their bowls. Together they clean up the rest of the dishes. Janine is storing away cutlery when she sees Gregory rummaging the bag he brought.

“I have something for you,” he says. “We all pitched in on this, so Barbara, Melissa, Jacob and me. Originally it was just for your birthday, but now it has a get-well-soon part as well.”

He takes out a big, wrapped present out of the bag and places it on her white dining table. Janine is overjoyed. A birthday gift! And everyone pitched in! She can’t stop grinning.

“Oh my god! Thank you!”

Carefully, she opens the present, unfolding the paper until she can see what’s inside. It seems to be a basket filled with different things. There’s a box of ripe, shiny plums. A shawl in lovely pastel green and pink colours. A small ficus plant. And some tea. She picks everything up to inspect it with the widest grin imaginable.

“This is so great, thank you so much!” she beams up at Gregory. “I really have to get better soon so I can thank the rest.”

“Happy birthday, Janine.”

Janine can’t stop smiling at him. She looks into his eyes, and the feeling of wanting more washes in, even though he’s right there, giving her his fullest attention, smiling at her.

“You know,” she starts, feeling brave, “whenever I’m sick there’s a movie I watch… Want to stay and watch WALL-E with me?”

“Yeah,” Gregory replies, almost without missing a beat, nodding, “sounds good.”

“Okay, great!” Janine plucks the tea from her gift basket. “Do you also want a cup?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

She makes tea for them both. A few minutes later, they’ve set up on her couch. Steaming cups in front of them on the side table. Movie paused right at the beginning on her TV. Janine’s more conscious than usual of his presence. Her couch is not that big. Three people on it would sit knee to knee. Earlier today she couldn’t get her body to warm up, but it now seems her skin is radiating heat and it’s not because she’s running a fever.

“You ready?” she asks.

“More than.”

Janine knows exactly why WALL-E is her comfort movie. It calms her down, watching a story of how meaningful connection is still possible long after the Earth is no longer inhabitable. A story of how robot WALL-E travels across the entire galaxy to follow this meaningful connection. It’s magical, touching and has so much heart. It makes her think about the consequences of her choices, but in the most soft and grateful way possible.

It’s exactly because it’s her comfort movie and Gregory sitting next to her makes her feel safe, that she starts feeling drowsy and drifts into sleep. She blames her after-dinner dip too. And her sleepless night. And her cold.

She dreams of them sitting on her couch. Or rather, she’s laying on her side, with her head in his lap, on one of her cushions, knees pulled up a bit. WALL-E is still chasing after EVE on the TV. Gregory runs his fingers through her curls. Each touch a lullaby. It soothes her.

“Don’t stop…” she mumbles.

Gregory hums gently in question.

“Your fingers in my hair… feels good…”

He continues. She nudges the side of her face into the cushion. She never wants this dream to end.

Inevitably, it does. She was only taking a small nap, apparently, because when she wakes the movie is still running. But something is not right. It’s not WALL-E’s adorkableness. It’s that she’s laying in Gregory’s lap, like in her dream, covered by her blanket. Immediately, her heart rate rises. Did she fall over while sleeping? Or did she decide to rest her head here while she was sleeping? Her cheeks glow from embarrassment. Did Gregory let her and cover her with the plaid?

Slowly, she turns her head for as much is possible with her laying on her side. Her eyes fall on Gregory’s sleeping face, resting his head on the backrest of her couch, slightly leaning to his right. His breathing is slow and steady. The skin on his face relaxed. It’s cute. Something flips in her stomach. It makes her skin burn even more.

Maybe she rested her head on his thighs while he was sleeping. There’s still a way to make sure he doesn’t know this ever happened.

With utmost care, as quietly and slowly as possible, she rises from her position. She holds her breath getting up, the only sound her heart beating and rustling of the blanket on top of her clothes. And, she notices the next moment, to her deepest regret, the rustling of his clothes too. He’s moving.

“Janine?” A croaky voice.

He’s awake.

She jerks herself up. The impact comes with a thud.

“Ow,” Gregory groans. “Shit.”

Oh god. She headbutted him. His chin, to be precise.

“Oh my god, Gregory, I’m so sorry,” Janine has never been this flustered. She sits up and shifts in her seat, so her body is facing him, sitting on her knees. “Are you alright?”

“I’m definitely awake now.” Gregory rubs his chin, folding one leg on the couch, the other one still over the edge. He’s laughing, to her relief. Which makes her laugh too. Laughing at the situation, her clumsiness.

“I come over to bring you a birthday and get-well gift, cook for you, and this is how you treat me,” he says, before pulling a serious face. “If you want me to leave, you can say so, Janine.”

She laughs some more. “Don’t leave. I still have to give you a black eye.” She holds up her fists to her cheeks, bouncing her arms, pretending to prepare herself for hitting him in the face.

As she does so, the blanket on top of her shoulders slips off. The next moment, Gregory reaches for it, his face close, stretching his arms on both her sides. In a swift motion, he pulls the blanket over her shoulders again, closing it in the middle, right before her chest, where she’s still holding up her hands, now in loosened fists. His hands brush over hers. His folded knee touches hers. He gently takes some of her hair to pull it out of her blanket cape, so it rests on top. The sound of the movie still running is miles away. She meets his gaze.

In that moment, she doubts her dream was a dream. It’s all there in the way he touched her hair just now and how he’s looking at her in this moment. And it’s locking her eyes with his that makes her realise this: she wants to kiss him.

He’s so close. His warm gaze not only soothing her but causing a tingling feeling across her forearms and the back of her neck. He’s everywhere around her, taking up all her senses.

His hands rests on his folded leg, his fingers touch her knee. Is he doing this on purpose? The sensation is enough to light her whole body on fire. She breaks eye contact, looking at the TV again.

“You know, it’s pretty fucked up we assume WALL-E is a boy. It’s a robot. You know? It makes no sense. It’s sexless.” She’s rambling, she knows it, but she cannot stop.

Gregory just hums, slowly nodding. She can feel his eyes on her face, but she’s looking everywhere but him. His finger traces a small circle on her knee. She feels the skin underneath burning up.

“And you know what! The movie’s message is really well handled. Under capitalism, the environment is doomed. We thrive when freed from the confines of oppression! After all these years, WALL-E is still relevant, maybe even more so today than when it got released.”

He hums again. It agitates her. How he’s simply sitting there, while she’s freaking out, trying to decide whether she should push her feelings away. Or give in to them. She clutches the fabric of her blanket in her hands, staring at her lap, at how his fingers trace the soft fabric of her deer-covered pyjama pants.

She can’t take it any longer; she’s almost bursting. So, she takes a shuddering breath. And looks up.

His face is there, filling up her whole vision. His fingers stop tracing her knee. He rang her doorbell, cooked for her, cleaned and decorated her apartment, wanted to watch her comfort movie with her, brushed his fingers on her knee. And now he’s here, on her sofa, sitting in front of her, close, so close. It’s only a split second, but meeting his gaze is all she needs.

She leans forward. And kisses him, quickly, before pulling back again.

Her heart is racing, unable to process what she did. She looks up to see his reaction, even though her nerves are killing her. She needs to know.

His surprise quickly makes way for a grin. Before Janine can feel even more nervous, he leans forward, cupping her face with his hand, the warmth of his touch and breath on her face, closing the distance between them.

It feels incredible.

It’s no use being careful when she already fainted in his arms and headbutted him in the face, when he’s seen Kurt the koala and her Christmas themed pyjamas, when she opened up about her mom, when she cuddled up in his lap. It’s no use being careful, so she leans into his hand, into his touch, taking in everything he’s giving her.  

She’d expected kissing him would ease her longing to pull him close, but it only makes her want him more. It’s like something inside her set off. Or like she passed a stop without knowing. She doesn’t ever want to return, though.

She senses he wants to get closer too, but their legs are in the way. The heat rises to her head. At this point, she cannot say whether it’s her fever acting up or that she’s feeling hot. Hot for him.

Her hand is on his chest, gently pressing. He pulls back. The look in his eyes knocks the air right out of her and for a moment, she stops in her tracks. He’s completely open, meeting her gaze with all he has. She’s never seen him like this. Her heart swells. She can’t go back.

She clasps his shoulder for stability as she straddles him. His eyes never leave her face as she settles and cups his face in her hands. She leans forward, his hands travel up her thighs, resting on her hips. It feels amazing, her body pressed to his, kissing him, his warm hands pressing into her hips, her lower back.

It’s not until she’s out of breath because of her stuffed nose that they pull back. Which is sooner than she would’ve liked. Her whole body is tingling, her thighs still pressing into the sides of his body, his hands still roaming her back, waist and hips. Her blanket long gone, bundled up on the side of her couch.  

He’s looking at her with so much fondness, a small smile lingering on his lips, she wants to kiss him all over again. She feels bare, naked, but it’s alright if he’s the one holding onto her.

“Do you think I passed on my cold to you?”

He chuckles softly. “Maybe. I’ll survive. It was a good trade.”

“Yeah,” Janine grins.

A moment of bliss passes. The next, she backs out of his lap and positions herself next to him again. She grabs one of the cups of tea they made. It’s cooled down entirely. Figures. She takes a sip anyway. Looks like WALL-E is almost over.

Gregory puts one of his arms on the backrest of the sofa, and she scooches closer to him, resting the back of her head in the crook of his armpit. And like that, they watch the remaining part of the movie.

It’s when Gregory’s putting on his coat to head home that she realises there’s no way she could’ve guessed how his day would go. Before going to bed yesterday, her plans were to go to Abbott and meet up with Erica afterwards. After waking up, she decided to stay in and recover from her cold, taking it easy even though it was her birthday. Not for a moment did she expect Gregory would show up at her door. That he would make her favourite soup. That he would kiss her. He has no idea how happy he makes her.

“Did you run your fingers through my hair while I was sleeping in your lap?” It’s not really a question.

Gregory meets her gaze, smiles softly, and nods.

“And then I told you to keep going.”

“Yeah, you did.” His smile deepens. “Want to do that again sometime soon?”

She beams up at him. “Yes. I would love that.”

He’s packed in to face the cold evening outside. She doesn’t want him to leave just yet. There’s a beat when they’re looking at each other. The next she takes a step forward. He folds his arms over her shoulders, her head, resting his chin on top of her hair. She places her hands on the broad of his back. Breathes in. And breathes out.

She could live here. In his arms.