Title: Simple is Overrated
Fandom: Ringer (tv show)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not my characters! Not making money!
Summary: Bridget’s life is not simple now.
Notes: Written as a snow drabble on my February 14, 2014 snow day
Simple is Overrated
Bridget stood in front of the window, watching the snow fall outside. For the most part, she didn’t miss Wyoming, but there were times when something made her remember it and her life there and she couldn’t help but smile. For all its faults—the drug addiction and the stripping and the murder –her life had at least been her own then. And it had been simpler.
“hehhhshooo!”
She looked over her shoulder to see Andrew emerging from the hallway, dragging a handkerchief back and forth under his nose. “Bless you.”
He froze, handkerchief still pressed to his nose, and blinked at her. “In all the five years we’ve been together, I don’t think you’ve blessed me once.”
Bridget turned. “I haven’t? Well, then, I mean it even more this time. That’s your third sneeze this morning. Are you all right?” Did he have an allergy she was supposed to have known about?
Andrew snuffled, lowered the handkerchief, and nodded. “Just a little head cold, I think. Nothing to be concerned about.” He slid the folded handkerchief into his pocket and straightened his suit jacket then his tie.
“You’re sick and going into the office?”
He stared at her. “Yes, of course. I went to the office last year when I had the flu and a fever of one hundred and two. I remember you saying something about not wanting me to return until I was well again.”
“Well…” She walked over and slid her hands from his shoulders to his collar. Her fingers curled around and she pulled off his blazer. “This time, I insist you stay home.”
“Siob, I…” His breath caught. Quickly, he withdrew the handkerchief and pressed it to his face. He had the foresight to turn. “huh-huh-Ehshooo!”
As he wiped his nose, Bridget loosened his tie. She patted his chest with her hand. “Back to bed, sneezy. I’ll swap your morning coffee for some Nyquil.”
He froze again, staring at her. “Not only are you not kicking me out, but you’re going to take care of me? Who are you and what have you done with my wife?”
Heart racing, Bridget could have kicked herself. Slow. Take it slow. Don’t go overboard. She wasn’t supposed to invite suspicion. But there he was, standing in front of her, looking pale and weak with his nose running and cheeks flushed. She couldn’t help feel sorry for him. And he should absolutely be back in bed, not at work.
She took a deep breath and smiled as pleasantly as possible. “Hey now, I’m not saying I’m going to crawl into bed with you. I’m just forcing you to drink some terrible tasting medicine and grabbing my pillow so I can sleep on the couch until your cold is gone.”
With a smile, Andrew lowered his head. “All right. Sounds fair. Sniff!” He rubbed at his nose, though that didn’t do much good. “huhh-Chooo! Huh-huhshuhhh! Guh… sniff! Maybe you’re right. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get much done today, to be honest.”
“I’ll call your work for you.”
“Better not,” Andrew said quickly. “I’ll do the calling. I don’t want Olivia to think you’re calling me in sick so that we can spend the day doing dirty deeds.”
Bridget nodded and patted his chest again. “Now go get out of this suit and into that comfortable t-shirt and flannel pants of yours. He nodded obligingly, if only because he was on the verge of sneezing again. Rubbing his nose, he was halfway down the hall before he sneezed again.
Bridget followed him to the bedroom and went straight to their bathroom. She held the bottle of Nyquil in her hand for a moment, suddenly acutely aware of its alcohol content. But she shook her head, poured a small cupful, and carried it to Andrew. As she handed the cup to him and pulled the covers up to his chest, the smile he gave her was heartwarming. She leaned over and kissed the top of her husband’s head. The top of her sister’s husband’s head, rather.
Things had definitely been simpler back in Wyoming. But she was learning that simple was overrated.