CHAPTER 11

"Morning, boss." Nathaniel went to the refrigerator, pulled out a carton of orange juice and shook it experimentally. Not enough for a full glass, he decided. He tipped the carton to his mouth and drained it, grimacing as he swallowed, then tossed it into the trash.

"Morning, Thaniel." Logan finished making his roast beef sandwich and started on a second one. "Something wrong with the juice?"

"No, my throat's a little sore. Allergies, I think." He closed the refrigerator and wrote 'oj' on the list they kept on the door.

"Probably the dry air," Logan commented. "Maybe we should get a humidifier. Add it to the list, ok? Oh, and can you water the tree later? I haven't checked it since we put it up."

"Sure." He put humidifier on the list, then reopened the door and took out the milk and chocolate syrup. "You want me to go to the grocery store this afternoon?"

"No, I can do it. You already have plans, don't you?" Logan replied. He placed their sandwiches on plates and sat down on the other side of the island to eat.

Nathaniel got a glass and mixed syrup into his milk, stepping around Hinx with the ease of continual practice. "I need to check my mail and send in my English final, then do a little research and type up some notes for you. After that I'm going to drop off a couple of Christmas gifts, trade some books and get something to read for the trip. You want to meet me at the gym later?"

"I can't," Logan told him regretfully. "I have to finish proofing this chapter and do the shopping and I'm having dinner with Mike and Dana tonight, remember? Are you sure you don't want to join us?"

"I don't think so," Nathaniel declined the invitation again. It wasn't that he didn't like Logan's friends; he just felt odd around them. It was like they came from another world, one that he had trouble navigating sometimes, and he was pretty sure Logan felt the same way about some of his friends. "I might skip the gym and hang out with Jess and Markie, then, if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind. Let me know if you're going to be late, ok?"

"I'll call if it's going to be after midnight," he promised.

It was mid-afternoon by the time Nathaniel had finished his work and when he stepped out the door he almost turned around and went back inside. The day was cold and bleak, the sky almost the same icy gray as the slush beneath his feet. But he had to get this done, he decided; they were leaving in three days. He hunched his shoulders into his leather bomber jacket, shoved his hands into his pockets and trudged down the street.

He made the used bookstore his first stop since the bag under his arm was heavy. "Afternoon, Mr. Lee," he greeted the gray-haired man sitting behind the counter. "How are you doing this afternoon?"

"Fair to middlin'," the elderly man replied. "Just waitin' for spring to get here. A couple of those books you requested came in." He got off his stool and shuffled into the back, returning with two books from a series that Nathaniel was collecting.

"Thanks." He glanced through them, then laid them on the counter while he perused the shelves and Mr. Lee figured his trade credit.

After getting his credit, he browsed for a while longer, more because the shop was warm than because he was finding many books. Nothing seemed to hold his attention for some reason and he finally left with only the two books Mr. Lee had held for him, a vampire novel and a couple of mysteries that had just come out in paperback. It never hurt to check out Logan's competition, after all.

It didn't take long to drop off the gifts but it was dark by the time he started toward Jess and Markie's and he paused indecisively. The temperature had dropped again and the slush was freezing into a tortuous sludge that made it difficult to walk. His feet were cold and his throat was sore and he really didn't feel like slogging all the way to their low-income apartment building and then all the way back to the loft.

"You're getting soft," he jeered at himself. There had been plenty of times when he had been out on the street in colder weather than this, and while wearing less clothing, too. Nevertheless, he abandoned his plans for a night out and turned toward the warmth and comfort of home.

He was shivering miserably when he finally entered the loft. He had stopped at the deli on the corner to pick up some soup for dinner; now he dumped the container on the counter unopened, both throat and stomach rebelling at the thought of eating. Instead, he washed a couple of Tylenol down with a glass of tepid water, almost choking in the effort to swallow them. The pain in his throat was getting worse by the minute, extending clear into his ears and matched only by the throbbing of his head.

Still wearing his jacket, he sat down on the couch to remove his boots and then found it too much effort to get up again. He had just enough energy left to drag the Christmas afghan off the back of the couch and pull it over himself before he fell asleep.

Logan dug in his pockets for his keys as he started up the stairs to the loft, then pressed himself against the wall to let Joe and Attila pass him on the way down. "Hope you wore your long johns tonight," he told Joe. "It's colder than a witch's tit out there."

Joe laughed at the expression. "My daddy always said it would freeze the balls off a brass monkey," he replied. "You don't have to worry about Attila and me, though. We both have warm coats and we'll keep moving all night. And I have plenty of hot coffee in here." He patted the canvas bag he carried with him. "Talk to you in the morning."

"In the morning," Logan agreed as they parted.

"Thaniel? You home?" he called when he entered the loft, although he didn't really expect an answer. Thaniel's friends were all night owls and Logan expected to get a call around midnight telling him the younger man was on his way home.

A harsh guttural whisper as he was removing his coat proved him wrong. "Boss?"

"Thaniel?" He crossed the room and crouched next to the young man lying on the sofa.

"I didn't hear you come in." Nathaniel whispered hoarsely, struggling to free himself from the afghan and sit up.

"I just got here." Logan untangled the knit throw and tossed it over the back of the couch. "You don't sound too good."

"My throat's sore. Hurts to talk," he rasped.

Logan brushed Thaniel's hair away from his face, unobtrusively checking his temp at the same time. "You're feverish, too. Have you taken anything?"

"Tylenol. Earlier."

"Looks like it's worn off," he observed. "Lie down and I'll get you some more."

Nathaniel shook his head. "Shower first. Cold."

"All right. You take a hot shower and I'll get the Tylenol and make some hot tea. Call me if you need a hand."

To Logan's relief, the shower, Tylenol and tea seemed to help. By the time he had finished the last sip of tea, Thaniel was less flushed and his voice was much closer to normal. "I don't think you should stay up late, though," Logan advised. "Why don't you bring your book upstairs and read in bed if you aren't ready to sleep yet?"

"Won't the light keep you awake?" Nathaniel asked doubtfully.

Logan shook his head. "Not tonight. I had a couple of glasses of wine with dinner."

"I didn't even ask how your evening went," Nathaniel reproached himself. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah, I did." Logan hoisted Thaniel to his feet and pointed him in the direction of the stairs. "You should come along next time."

At 7 am, after giving Nathaniel Tylenol for the third time, Logan stood staring down at him indecisively. It had been a long night. The Tylenol didn't seem to be working anymore and neither was the new humidifier he had set up. Thaniel had spent the night tossing and turning, throwing off the covers and then drawing them back up to huddle under them. What little sleep he had gotten had been filled with fever dreams and Logan had gently shaken him awake more than once, holding and reassuring him as he fought the demons that plagued him.

Maybe it was time to insist on a visit to the doctor, he thought. Or was he being over-protective again? He was rarely ill himself so it was difficult for him to judge. And Thaniel wasn't any help; he'd say he was fine on his deathbed. Logan sighed in exasperation and decided to consult an expert.

He went downstairs to make a phone call and returned a short time later, armed with a thermometer, flashlight, spoon and the phone. "Thaniel?" He gently shook the sleeping man's shoulder.

"Wha'?" Nathaniel whispered hoarsely.

"Can you sit up? I need to take your temperature and look at your throat."

Nathaniel groaned but managed to sit up and Logan dumped his supplies on the bed to help shove pillows behind the younger man's back.

"Here, stick this in your mouth." While he waited for the thermometer to beep, Logan reviewed everything he knew about examining a sore throat. It wasn't much; he had always been on the receiving end and it had been close to twenty years since he had experienced even that. The thermometer beeped and he took it out, read it and set it to one side. Gritting his teeth, he picked up the spoon and flashlight, trying not to show his apprehension as he attempted to use his makeshift tongue depressor.

His first glimpse of Thaniel's throat made his own throb in sympathy. It was a raw, angry crimson, the tonsils clearly inflamed and spotted with virulent pockets of white. He picked up the phone and hit redial. "Mom? His temp's 102.6 and I'm looking at his throat now."

Disconnecting a few minutes later, he turned back to the drowsing Nathaniel. "Mom says you have tonsillitis and need to see the doctor for a strep test. Can you get dressed while I call for an appointment?"

As Nathaniel nodded and got out of bed, Logan went downstairs to find the doctor's number. He got through quickly and by the time Thaniel slid onto his customary stool at the island, Logan had tea and toast waiting for him.

"They said they can squeeze you in if we're there within 45 minutes. I'm going to go get the car. I'll call you when I get back so you don't have to wait out in the cold."

"All right," Nathaniel agreed hoarsely. It was another cold, gray day and he didn't envy Logan the walk to the parking garage a couple blocks away. He was just as glad he could stay inside a few minutes longer.

He had finished his tea and tossed the toast into the trash, put on his boots and jacket and automatically loaded his pockets by the time Logan called from car. He made his way carefully down the stairs and out the door, shivering in the cold that seemed to go right through him.

"Thanks for taking me, boss," he said as he fastened his seatbelt. "It would be a long ride on the bus."

"You're not riding the bus while you're sick," Logan told him firmly. "Do you want me to go in with you when we get there?"

Nathaniel hesitated before he replied. He would like Logan to be there but was it fair to ask it of him? "There's probably going to be a long wait if they're squeezing me in. Don't you want to go get coffee?" he asked doubtfully.

Logan shook his head and indicated the travel mug in the cup holder. "No, I brought it with me, along with the newspaper. I understand if you'd rather do it by yourself, though."

"No, I'd like you to come in," Nathaniel confessed, "if you really don't mind."

"I don't mind."

Logan swerved to avoid a pedestrian determined to play chicken with the traffic and Nathaniel leaned his head back and closed his eyes. How could a sore throat make you feel so bad all over, he wondered gloomily. He felt like he had been run over by one of the trucks passing him. Luckily Logan seemed to understand how he felt and didn't renew the conversation once he had dodged the suicidal jaywalker.

It didn't take long for the nurse to call them back into the examining room at the doctor's office but once she had collected his vital statistics, his prediction came true. Logan had plenty of time to finish his coffee and peruse his newspaper as they waited an interminable amount of time.

Nathaniel sat on the end of the examining table and attempted to read the book he pulled out of his jacket pocket but the letters blurred and danced before his eyes. Before long he gave up and lay back on the table, wondering how long they were going to be there and how long it took to clear up tonsillitis.

He was almost asleep when Dr. Harper finally appeared. "Sorry," he apologized as he washed his hands at the sink in the corner of the room. "We're a little backed up today."

After a quick look at Nathaniel's throat, he agreed with Phyllis' assessment and ordered a quick strep test. When it came back positive, he prescribed an oral antibiotic and an anesthetic throat spray.

"Gargle with warm salt water every four hours and keep taking Tylenol for the fever," he ordered as he handed Nathaniel the prescriptions. "Push fluids but avoid citrus while your throat is sore. You should be over most of the symptoms in a couple of days but you still need to take it easy for at least a week and don’t stop taking the antibiotic until it's all gone. I want to see you again next week; you can make an appointment for the re-check on your way out."

"But we won't be here next week. We're supposed to leave day after tomorrow," Nathaniel protested.

"We're spending the holidays with family," Logan explained, resting his hand on Nathaniel's shoulder comfortingly. "Will he be able to fly in a couple of days? Can we have the re-check done by a doctor there or do it when we get back?"

"Sorry." The doctor shook his head. "I would recommend canceling the trip. He isn't as run down as he was the last time I saw him but he still needs to rest and recuperate. I'm also worried about secondary infections; while he won't be contagious by then, I don't want him picking anything up from the other passengers. Planes are notorious for the spread of germs and strep can have some pretty risky complications if you're not careful."

"All right," Logan conceded. "What are the possible complications? Will there be someone on call if we need anything after hours?"

Logan was quiet on the way home, much to Nathaniel's relief. He leaned back and closed his eyes, worn out and deeply disappointed. He had been nervous about visiting Logan's family but excited at the same time. Logan had helped by describing the house and the normal routine, telling him about all the family traditions and all the places they would go and the people he would meet. He had gone from being reluctant to looking forward to it.

Now it was being denied to him - and once again he was going to spend Christmas alone. He should have known, he thought morosely. He always ruined everything. His father was right; he always spoiled things, not only for himself but for everyone around him. Why had he thought this time would be any different?

"Do you want to go upstairs or stay down here?" Logan asked when they were back in the loft.

"Down here," he whispered gruffly. He didn't want to be isolated upstairs right now, even though it was probably what he deserved.

Logan brought black and gray sleep pants and a black, long-sleeved t-shirt downstairs and, with a little help, he managed to gargle and then change into them. That done, he collapsed into the recliner, resting his head against the dark brown leather with a heavy sigh. He knew he should be thinking about how he would cope while Logan was gone but right now all he wanted to do was sleep. Later, he thought groggily. He would just close his eyes for a few minutes and deal with it all later.

Logan covered him with a blanket, placed another cup of hot tea on the table by his elbow and made sure he could reach both the tv remote and the cordless phone. Hinx, who had been watching the preparations with a critical eye, leaped up and rubbed his head under Nathaniel's chin before settling himself protectively across the young man's lap.

"I'm going to the store now," Logan said at last. "Is there anything special you want me to pick up?"

Nathaniel opened his eyes again and tried to force his brain into action. "Soup, I guess," he whispered at last. He absently kneaded the cat's thick gray fur as he furrowed his brow in an attempt to concentrate. "7up and juice. Jello. And maybe some microwave dinners so I don't have to cook much while you're gone."

Logan looked blank for a minute, then shook his head. "I'm not going to Mom and Dad's without you, Thaniel," he said gently. "I'm not going to leave you home alone, especially while you're sick."

"I'll be all right," Nathaniel argued hoarsely. "You should be with your family for Christmas. I'm so sorry, boss," he added plaintively, "I didn't mean to ruin everything."

"You didn't ruin anything. And I am going to be with my family for Christmas." Logan leaned down to brush his lips across Thaniel's cheek. "Right here. Try to sleep while I'm gone, all right? Call me if you need anything."

Nathaniel continued to fret after the other man left. He couldn't let Logan stay home with him. What kind of Christmas would it be, stuck home with Nathaniel instead of having fun with his family? And what would Bob and Phyllis say? What would they think of him, depriving them of their son over the holidays?

He had better call Phyllis, he decided finally. He could explain the situation to her and then she could talk to Logan, make him understand that he needed to follow through with their plans. He reached for the phone, then drew his hand back. He didn't want to make the call, he didn't want Logan to leave.

But that was selfish. It was his own fault he couldn't go and it wasn't fair to make Logan and the others pay for it. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to pick up the phone and hit speed dial.

Phyllis answered on the fifth ring, sounding slightly out of breath. "Carol? Give me just a minute to get my coat off. I was out getting the mail when I heard the phone and I ran all the way back into the house."

"No, it isn't Carol, it's Nathaniel," he told her huskily. "Is this a bad time? Should I call back later?"

"Hello, sweetie. I thought you were Carol," she explained unnecessarily. "No, you're fine. I'll talk to her later. She just wants to gossip about the church Christmas pageant and we can do that anytime. Did you go to the doctor? Did he do a strep test? What did he say?"

He could hear her struggling to remove her coat one-handedly as he replied, "Yes, ma'am. He said I have strep --"

"I was afraid you did as soon as Logan described your throat. Kimmy had it a lot growing up and that's always what it looked like. They finally had to remove her tonsils. Did he put you on an antibiotic?"

"Yes, ma'am, penicillin. But he said I can't fly." Nathaniel paused, ashamed of the hitch in his voice. "So I'm not going to be able to come for Christmas."

"Oh, honey! I'm so sorry," Phyllis exclaimed sympathetically. "We were so looking forward to your visit."

"I'm sorry," he whispered miserably. "I didn't mean to ruin everything."

"Oh, sweetie, don't talk like that," she scolded. "You didn't ruin anything; you can't help being sick. I wish I was there to take care of you, you sound terrible. Is Logan there? Can you give him the phone? I'll remind him what we did for Kimmy and what always made her feel better."

"No, ma'am, he went to the store. And that's why I called," he explained when she paused for breath. "He thinks he should stay home with me--"

"Of course he should," Phyllis agreed immediately. "He can't go off and leave you home alone while you're sick."

"But it's Christmas. He should be with you."

"You're sick. He should be with you," Phyllis countered. "And I don't want you thinking any differently."

"But you're his family!"

"So are you. And if he shows up without you, we're going to have a serious talk on the way back to the airport. I raised him better than that."

"I don't understand," Nathaniel protested woefully. It had all seemed so simple before she answered the phone. "I thought you would want him to come home for Christmas."

"I do! But not if it means leaving you home alone, especially when you're sick. We'll miss you, both of you, but there will be other holidays."

"But--"

"No buts," she told him firmly, "and you need to hang up and get some rest now. You tell Logan to call me when he gets home."

Nathaniel dutifully hung up, feeling like he had been through a whirlwind and wondering where, exactly, he had lost control of the conversation. From the moment he said hello, he thought glumly. He had been so sure Phyllis would be his ally. Maybe if he called back and talked to Bob instead?

His finger hovered over redial but the TV was a soothing murmur in the background and Hinx was a warm, comforting weight in his lap; he was exhausted and his throat hurt. He closed his eyes, just for a minute, and fell asleep.

Logan was also thinking about the cancelled trip as he drove to the grocery store. Part of his mind was on a list of things to do - canceling their reservations, restoring newspaper delivery, buying groceries and other necessary tasks. The other part focused on Thaniel's reaction to the doctor's edict.

Given Thaniel's background, he wasn't really surprised by the younger man's automatic assumption that he would be abandoned without a second thought. He had to admit it stung a little, though, and it certainly didn't say much about Thaniel's opinion of him. But Thaniel had been through a lot, he reminded himself, and had learned the hard way not to have high expectations of anyone, including the people who were supposed to love and care for him.

He dropped off the prescriptions in the pharmacy department, picked up a small basket at the front of the store and found the soup aisle, still thinking.

How could anyone treat their only child like that, he wondered. Had they ever seen him as a precious gift? Had they once considered Thaniel as a person or thought about his feelings or put his needs first? Had anyone in his life ever put him first?

He dropped four cans of chicken noodle soup into the basket and then added one of tomato. Well, Thaniel was going to learn that he came first now, Logan vowed. Thaniel was going to realize that his needs came before vacations, parents, holidays or anything else.

He tossed three boxes of instant pudding and two of Jell-O into the basket and moved on to the beverage aisle. Thaniel was going to be loved and cosseted and cared for, whether he liked it or not, whether he thought he deserved it or not.

He added a six-pack of 7up, a bottle of apple juice and a box of teabags to his basket, then went to get popsicles. The frozen food aisle had him almost growling in his anger. How could Thaniel think, even for a minute, that he could enjoy spending the holidays with his parents while the younger man sat home all alone, celebrating Christmas with a microwave dinner?

Logan realized two things at that moment. One, there was a woman with a heavily loaded cart staring at him worriedly, obviously wanting something from the case he was blocking and afraid to ask him to move.

And two, his small basket was dangerously over-full. He grabbed the bottle of juice just before it slid off the top and fervently hoped the flimsy handles would remain attached until he got to a cart.

Feeling much calmer after his internal venting, he transferred his groceries to the cart and continued shopping in a more reasonable manner. After picking up milk, butter and eggs, he considered the menu for Christmas dinner. He couldn't do anything as elaborate as his mom's cooking but they needed to have something more festive than usual.

He looked at turkey breasts first but they felt more like Thanksgiving than Christmas. Goose was another Christmas tradition but he didn't know if Thaniel liked it or not and chicken was too ordinary. He wavered between the ham on sale and the roast beef, finally decided on a small beef tenderloin, and then added a ham to the cart as well. He could bake it anytime and then use it for sandwiches, casseroles and soup. He would have to call his mom and get her recipe for split-pea soup.

He glanced at his watch and went back to get the prescriptions, then made a quick stop in the floral department before heading for the checkout line.

"Thaniel."

"Hmm?" Nathaniel drowsily acknowledged his name but didn't open his eyes.

"Thaniel, look at me."

The request was accompanied by a gentle shake of his shoulder and he reluctantly complied, blinking a couple of times in an attempt to focus. "Boss? Did you go to the store already?" he rasped.

"I went, came back, put everything away and took the car back to the garage," Logan explained. "You were asleep and I didn't want to disturb you. You need to take your pills, though." He read the instructions on the bottle and shook one tablet into the palm of his hand, added two Tylenol and handed them to Thaniel along with a bottle of water.

Nathaniel tipped the recliner back into an upright position and eyed them with misgiving. The Tylenol were all right but the antibiotic looked awfully big. He swallowed the smaller pills first, then struggled to choke down the larger one. "Sorry, boss," he apologized hoarsely as he wiped involuntary tears from his cheeks. "Hurts."

"I know," Logan sympathized as he took the water bottle and handed Nathaniel the throat spray, "but it should be better by tomorrow. You think you could eat something now?"

Nathaniel shook his head. "I can't, boss," he whispered painfully. "It hurts too much."

"All right. Maybe you'll feel more like it after the pills kick in. I got something else for you while I was out," Logan told him. "You use the throat spray while I get it."

Nathaniel obediently used the spray, grimacing at the taste of it on his tongue, then twisted around to see what Logan was doing. His lips formed a silent, shocked 'Oh' as he took the floral arrangement Logan held out to him, dislodging Hinx as he sniffed the bright, fragrant flowers, then held them back for a better look.

"They're beautiful, boss," he murmured softly. He admired the fluffy red carnations and white baby's breath, brushed a finger gently over the petals of a yellow daisy and then a blue flower he couldn't identify. The colorful blossoms filled and overflowed the woven basket, almost hiding the little brown bear nestled among them. It held a small card between its forepaws which read, 'To Thaniel, with love from Logan.'

"Do you like them?" Logan asked a little anxiously when he didn't say anything. "Are they too gaudy? Should I have gotten something plainer?"

"They're perfect," Thaniel declared and the roughness in his voice wasn't entirely due to his sore throat. "Nobody has ever given me flowers before. Thank you, boss." To cover his emotions, he fingered the bear and then looked at Logan quizzically.

"It came with the flowers," Logan told him a little sheepishly. "You can give it to Hinx if you want to."

"No." Thaniel shook his head definitely as he stroked it one last time and then handed the basket back to Logan. "Hinx can find his own bear. This one is mine."

Logan set the basket on the coffee table and then came back and perched on the arm of the chair. "I should check your temp again," he said as he brushed Thaniel's hair back and rested a hand against his cheek.

Nathaniel leaned into the comforting touch, then his eyes widened in outrage as he glanced past Logan. "Hinx! Get away from my bear!"

Hinx paused, claws already poised to hook the little stuffed animal out of the greenery. Drawing his paw back, he inspected it closely and then ostentatiously began to wash it.

"Down, cat!" Nathaniel rasped, not fooled in the least. "Leave my bear alone!"

Hinx gave him a long, cool stare, then jumped down from the table and padded into the kitchen. There he sat by his food dish and waited suggestively.

"I'd better go feed the cat," Logan said with a laugh as he popped the thermometer into Nathaniel's mouth. "Then I'll be back with something for you to eat."

"I can't," Nathaniel protested again when Logan returned. "It hurts, boss!"

"One bite," Logan urged gently, handing him a frozen juice bar. "Then, if it hurts too much, I'll take it back."

Nathaniel took one small bite and then another, allowing them to melt in his mouth. The cool liquid trickled soothingly down the back of his throat and he finished almost half the bar before his eyelids drooped again. He was vaguely aware of Logan taking the rest away as he fell asleep once more.

When he woke again it was almost dark. He was warm and comfortable under his blanket and feeling pleasantly lethargic. Logan had plugged in the Christmas tree lights and built a fire and a Kenny G Christmas album was playing softly in the background. Hinx was lying on the back of the chair by the window and Logan was sitting on the couch nearby, busily tapping away on his laptop.

"What are you doing, boss?" he asked drowsily.

Logan set the laptop aside to come lay a hand on his forehead. "Editing the last chapter. How are you feeling?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your schedule," he apologized, feeling more guilty than ever. "You should have been working this morning, not waiting on me."

"You're starting to sound like my father," Logan teased lightly. "I can take a morning off once in a while without the world coming to an end."

"But--"

"No buts. Are you hungry?"

He shook his head.

"How about some juice?"

He accepted the offer, more to make Logan happy than because he wanted anything. He gazed contentedly at his flowers while he waited, his lips quirking at the thought of the little bear tucked into them. His eyes narrowed and he focused on the flowers in sudden intensity. "Logan!"

"Don't yell, Thaniel; it isn't good for your throat," Logan admonished as he returned with a glass of juice and a small bowl of Jello. "What's wrong?'

"Where's my bear?!"

"Right th-- Hinx!"

Hinx stared blandly at them and washed one paw.

"Here it is." Logan looked around, retrieved a slightly damp bear from the floor and handed it to Nathaniel. "Looks like he washed it."

"Hmmph!" Nathaniel glowered at the cat and tucked the bear under his blanket protectively.

Nathaniel wiped the steam off the bathroom mirror and eyed his reflection critically.

Not bad, he encouraged himself as he used the anesthetic throat spray. It was amazing what a difference 24 hours could make. Yesterday he had looked - and felt - like death warmed over. Now, showered and shaved, hair combed and teeth brushed, he looked and felt 100% better.

He leaned against the counter for support as a wave of dizziness swept over him. Ok, maybe not 100% yet but it had only been 24 hours. Another 24 should see him back to normal. And if he was back to normal, there was absolutely no reason they couldn't leave as planned. He hadn't ruined Christmas after all, he thought gratefully.

He removed the towel wrapped around his hips and stepped into clean underwear and faded jeans, then pulled a cheerful red t-shirt over his head. Much better than the black one he had been wearing earlier, he decided as he gazed into the mirror again. Black had accentuated his pallor; the red seemed to reflect some color into his face.

After hanging up his towel, he cleared his throat experimentally and used the throat spray again, drank two glasses of cold water and headed into the kitchen for lunch.

Halfway there, he detoured to pick his bear up off the floor and put it back in his flowers, glowering at the unrepentant Hinx as he did so. "Morning, boss," he said as he slid onto his stool at the kitchen island.

"Morning, Thaniel. You're up early. How are you feeling this morning? How's the throat?"

"Much better. My throat's still sore but it doesn't feel like I'm trying to swallow rocks anymore."

"Good. You think you can eat scrambled eggs and toast?" Logan set a plate in front of him and reached for the thermometer.

"I don't need that," Nathaniel protested. "I feel fine this morning."

"Humor me."

Nathaniel put the thermometer in his mouth and waited for it to beep, while mentally praising his forethought. "See, my temp is down," he said as soon as it was out. "I really think I'll be able to fly tomorrow."

Logan took the thermometer and read it for himself. "Very good. And no."

"But, Logan, I feel fine." Nathaniel marshaled his arguments. "My fever is down, the antibiotic is working and I won't be contagious anymore. The plane will be doing the work, not me. I can sleep during the flight as well as I can at home and I can rest after we get there. "

"And the doctor said no. Eat."

"He just said he didn't recommend it," Nathaniel argued. "He didn't forbid it. It was more like a suggestion."

"Which we're going to take. Eat."

"God, Logan! Don't you know how to say anything but 'No' and Eat'?!"

"No. Eat."

Nathaniel held onto his temper with an effort, totally unappreciative of his partner's humor. He never should have allowed the man to go to the doctor with him. "I don't understand why you're being so difficult! He's a doctor, Logan! It's his job to be paranoid and over-protective! Why do you have to be such a- a-"

"Mother hen," Logan finished the sentence. "And the answer is still no."

"But, Logan! We spent all that money on the tickets!"

"I've already cancelled the tickets and I'm sure they've resold the seats by now."

"What did you do that for?!" Nathaniel yelped. "Get them back!"

"No."

"But I want to go! And think about your family," he hurriedly added. "You know they want to see you and Christmas is special. People should be with their families at Christmas!"

"I am going to be with my family at Christmas," Logan told him evenly. "And while we're on the subject, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't try to do an end run around my decisions by appealing to my mother."

Damn it! What the *hell* was Logan doing talking to his mother?! "I just thought if I talked to her she could make you see-- I know you didn't want to leave me alone but I'm better now. We can both go!"

"Nathaniel, I know you're disappointed but we are spending a quiet Christmas at home and I don't want to hear another word about it. Is that clear?"

He ground his teeth, angry at both Logan and himself - Logan for being so stubborn and hard-headed and himself for his inability to sway the other man's opinion.

"Is that clear?" Logan repeated.

"Yes, that's clear!" He jumped to his feet, tired, frustrated and out of patience. "Is it ok if I go lay on the couch now or is that forbidden, too?" He stomped across the room, pausing on the way to bend over and snatch the stuffed animal out of Hinx's paws. "And, YOU! Stop stealing my bear!"

Another wave of dizziness passed over him as he stood up and he was mortified to find himself leaning on Logan as the other man escorted him to the sofa. He made up for it by jerking the blanket over himself as soon as he lay down and pointedly turning his back to the room.

He was aware that Logan stood looking down at him for a long moment and part of him felt sick over his behavior. He was trying to bring himself to apologize when Logan spoke.

"I'm going to box up the gifts for Fed-Ex. If I get them out today, Mom and Dad should still have them in time for Christmas."

Nathaniel lay silent, clasping his bear and brooding as he listened to Logan moving around the room. He knew he was being unfair but he didn't care. What the hell was the matter with the man? Why was he so damned stubborn?

"Thaniel, do you want me to mail all of these gifts?"

"Yes," he snapped, longing to ignore the older man but aware that Logan would just keep repeating it until Thaniel answered. As soon as he replied, he had a moment of panic.

Was Logan saying one of them was unacceptable? But it couldn't be, he assured himself. He had chosen all of the presents from the list Phyllis had sent him, careful to get the exact item specified.

It had been so much fun, having real money to spend at Christmas and a real family to buy gifts for. And now he wasn't going to see anyone open them or enjoy their reactions or even know if they really liked them. He was such a loser!

"Are you sure? Even the one to--"

"YES!" He clamped his pillow over his head to block out the sound. He knew he was being childish but at this point he didn't care. He hated this! He hated being sick, he hated ruining everyone's plans, he hated Logan being nice to him when he didn't deserve it. He hated himself. He didn't know how long he lay there feeling sorry for himself before Logan removed the pillow.

"I'm going to mail these now. Is there anything you want while I'm out?"

"No." He rejected the tentative olive branch without hesitation, willing Logan to be as angry and unhappy as he was.

Logan stood looking down at him for a long moment. "I have another line for you," he said at last, holding out a strip of paper.

Nathaniel rolled over, took the paper and, without bothering to look at it, crumpled it up and dropped it on the floor.

Logan's face darkened and Nathaniel thought for a minute that he had gone too far. He braced himself for the explosion but Logan merely took a deep breath and said, "Fine. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

As the door closed behind him, Nathaniel immediately had a change of heart. Logan had done so much for him, even giving up a family holiday to care for him and what had he done in return? Berated him, shouted at him, and generally acted like a 2-year-old deprived of a favorite toy. What the hell was wrong with him? It would serve him right if Logan did go and leave him all alone. He certainly wasn't any fun to have around.

He picked up the paper and carefully smoothed it out, then got his journal and began to write the quote Logan had chosen. 'To be upset over what you don't have is to waste what you do.'

Logan climbed the stairs to the loft, hoping the time alone had improved Thaniel's mood. He had managed to keep his patience earlier but it had been a close thing and he wasn't looking forward to another round.

The TV snapped off as he entered and Nathaniel, seated on the couch, greeted him with a tentative smile. "Hi, boss."

"Hi, Thaniel." He walked down the hall, sorting through the mail as he went, and heard the TV come back on. He dropped the bills on his desk and the junk mail in the trash and returned to the living room, just in time to see the TV screen turn black.

Intrigued, he went back down the hall and into the bathroom and was rewarded by the soft murmur of the TV, turned too low for him to make out the words. He returned to the living room and the sound immediately ceased. "What are you watching, Thaniel?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing."

More than intrigued now, he held out his hand for the remote and, after a long hesitation, Nathaniel reluctantly handed it over. Logan turned the TV back on.

"Good-bye, Hermy. Whatever a dentist is, I hope someday you will be the greatest."

He raised an eyebrow. "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer?"

"I like it," Nathaniel told him defensively.

"Then watch it."

"It's childish."

"I won't tell anyone," Logan promised as he hung up his coat and went into the kitchen to make a sandwich. "You want something to eat?"

"No, thanks." Nathaniel paused the movie, got up and followed him over to the island. "I had soup while you were gone."

He had cleaned the kitchen as well, Logan observed as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out the makings for a sandwich. "That's good. Thank you for cleaning up, too. I didn't spend a lot of time on it this morning."

"You're welcome." He hovered near the island while Logan got bread from the bread box. "I wrote the line in my journal, too."

"Good."' Looking up, Logan saw that the young man was biting his lip nervously and realized that he was seeking Logan's approval, trying to make amends for his earlier behavior and not sure how to go about it. Sighing, he laid his knife on the counter and said, "Come here, Thaniel."

Nathaniel slowly walked around the island and stood before him, head down.

Logan wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. "It's ok, Thaniel. We're good."

Nathaniel automatically resisted for a moment, then his arms went around Logan's waist and he rested his head against the older man's shoulder with a sigh. "I'm so sorry, boss," he said regretfully. "I don't know what got into me. You should beat me when I behave like that."

"You're sick. You're entitled to be a little irritable." Logan tightened the hug for a moment, then released him and went back to making his sandwich. "And I'm not going to beat you for that or anything else."

"You should," Thaniel told him darkly. "Anyway, I realize that we can't go, even if I'm feeling better. Tell me what you paid for the tickets and I'll write you a check."

"You will not."

"But that's not fair to you! It's my fault we're not going!"

"It is *not* your fault you got sick," Logan told him firmly. "And since I don't think I'd have much luck collecting from the strep, I got a credit on our tickets for Easter. Could you pour us some juice, please?"

"We're going for Easter?" Thaniel asked hopefully as he got two glasses from the cupboard and filled them with apple juice.

"Yeah. I hope you're good at coloring eggs. My mother gets a little carried away sometimes."

Thaniel laughed. "I've noticed."

Logan picked up his plate, then took Thaniel's hand and led him back to the couch. "Come on, let's finish your movie."

Nathaniel saved his new game on his laptop, removed his headphones and leaned back in his desk chair, supremely content with life. It had been a good Christmas.

Their Christmas Eve celebration had been a quiet one. The Bradley family tradition called for a simple meal of homemade soup and bread, followed by church and then the opening of one gift.

Logan had made split-pea soup and gotten a crusty loaf of whole-grain bread from the bakery but had decreed that Thaniel wasn't going out into the cold night air for church. Nathaniel hadn't protested the autocratic decision. He wasn't sure how he felt about going to church anymore, even for the sake of family tradition. Instead, they had started their own tradition - drinking eggnog, watching 'A Christmas Carol' and then making love in front of the fire.

His thoughts were interrupted as Hinx jumped up into his lap, stumbling a bit over the small stuffed bear gripped between his teeth. Nathaniel laughed and steadied him until he regained his balance, then turned an equally affectionate gaze at the identical bear propped up by his laptop.

Logan, busy downloading iTunes, caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. Removing his own headphones, he turned his chair to face Nathaniel. "Getting him his own bear was a good idea," he complimented as Hinx industriously licked the bear's fur.

"I only thought of it, you went and got it," Nathaniel returned the praise. He fondled Hinx's ears and the cat paused to give his hand a quick lick before going back to grooming the bear.

"Group effort," Logan acknowledged. "Thank you for the iPod and docking station."

"You really like them?" Nathaniel asked a little anxiously. "I wasn't sure if you would."

"Yes, I do. I don't know why I didn't get an iPod before. This is going to be so much easier than dealing with CDs all the time."

"You're just old-fashioned, I guess," Nathaniel teased him. "Thank you for the bike, boss."

"You really like it?" Logan asked with a smile. "I wasn't sure if you would."

"Yeah, I do," he mimicked with his quick grin. "I don't know why I didn't get one before. It's going to make it so much easier to get around town. Thanks for everything, boss," he added seriously. "This is the best Christmas I've ever had."

And not just because of the bike and other great gifts, he thought. Logan and his family had repeated the round robin phone conversation they had done at Thanksgiving but this time Nathaniel had been included. He and Logan had passed the phone back and forth as they talked to Bob and Phyllis. Phyllis had alternated between praising his choice of gifts and asking detailed questions about his health.

Then, to his surprise, she had passed the phone on to Kim, who, after talking to him as if she had known him all her life, handed the phone off to her four-year-old daughter.

"Kim is a lot like your mom," he said now.

"She is," Logan agreed. "I think she's more like Mom than either Kelly or I. And I think Madison is going to be just like them. She already has that maternal air about her."

Nathaniel laughed. "She sure sounds like them. 'Mommy says you're sick, Uncle Nathaniel, so you be sure and take care of yourself .' Is being a mother hen genetic?"

"Maybe," Logan laughed in return. "You don't mind them calling you uncle, do you?"

"No," Nathaniel responded almost shyly. "I like it. I never thought I'd be an uncle, you know. It makes me feel like part of the family."

"You are part of the family," Logan told him firmly. He rose from his chair. "I'm going to get some of the fudge Mom sent. You want a piece?"

"Uh-- there isn't any left," Nathaniel told him sheepishly. "There are still some cookies, though."

"You ate all the fudge?" Logan raised one eyebrow.

"You had your share," Nathaniel told him defensively. "And it was good!"

"Hmmph," Logan told him darkly. "Guess I'd better grab the cookies before you eat all of them, too."

"You wanted me to get my appetite back," Nathaniel pointed out as Hinx jumped down and followed Logan out of the room.

"For soup, Thaniel, not for the last of the fudge!" Logan called back as he went down the hall and Nathaniel laughed.

He turned his chair back to the desk and picked up the leather-bound journal Logan had given him for Christmas. Turning to the first page, he neatly wrote the date on the top of the page, chewed on the end of his pen for a moment and then continued, 'Today I spent my first Christmas with Logan."

TBC