[vday day 6] Zana has been pretty good at keeping this surprise, well, secret. As far as Jamie knows, she's been on a mission in the Welsh countryside for the last 10 hours to cover her radio silence on her flight from London to Kentucky. Things have been quiet enough at Kingsman HQ for her to take time off for a visit for Valentine's day. Ginger helped her in & led her to Jamie's room. Zana can't help her smile as she knocks on the door when Ginger leaves. When it opens, she grins a "Surprise!"
Back to back missions usually put Jamie in a cranky mood, and the fact that he can’t even talk to Zana to put him in a better mood, just makes it worse. He’s in his room, stretched out and listening to music, playing a game on his phone mindlessly (secret agent reflexes make some guess hella easy). When someone knocks on his door, he groans.
If it’s Ginger telling him they’ve got another mission, he’s gonna fucking quit.
Okay, no he’s not, but he’s gonna grumble about it.
“Ginge,” he’s already whining as he gets the door. “I can’t, I...” He trails off when instead of Ginger, Zana’s standing there.
His smile is instant, and he scoops Zana up and hugs her. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. I love surprises like this.”
Jamie feels guilty for thinking it, but Zana is almost adorable when she’s sick. All he can see of her is the top of her head under the covers, bed mussed red hair sticking every which way, and his heart goes out to her, even as he wants to pet her head and tell her how cute she is.
When she’d woken up that morning to get ready for work, coughing and shivering despite the warmth of the room, Jamie had sent her right back to bed and gone into caretaker mode, prepping to make soup from scratch and making endless cups of tea. Around noon, she’d passed back out, so Jamie had retreated to the living room to call the shop and let them know he’d be taking off for the day to look after his girl.
Kat, the resident piercer had laughed and made all kinds of insinuations about how he was going to “take care” of her, until he’d rolled his eyes and hung up.
With Zana sleeping, Jamie works in the kitchen, trimming meat from the carcass of the leftover chicken they’d had for dinner on Monday and simmering his stock. It’s soothing, easy work, sending him straight back to being a little boy and watching his mother do this right before the first snow of each year.
It had always made him feel better when he was younger, and he hopes it does the same for Zana.
The radio is on low in the window, since the bedroom door is cracked enough that he’ll be able to hear it if Zana calls for him. He dances to some pop song he doesn’t know the name of, shimmying his hips as he chops carrots and celery and dices the fresh herbs to go in the stock.
When he hears ragged coughing from the bedroom, he turns the burner down under the pot and washes his hands, pouring more tea from the still hot kettle on the stove and making his way to the side of the bed with it.
“How’re you feeling?” he asks, reaching a free hand down to try and tug the blankets away from Zana’s face.
She groans and shuffles down lower in the bed, refusing to be uncocooned. “Like I did something to piss off the god of death and he’s taking revenge on my throat,” she mumbles, and Jamie laughs.
“I think I’ve seen that porn.”
“You suck, it’s not funny,” Zana whines, and Jamie only chuckles and pets her head through the blanket.
“I’m sorry, beautiful. Here, I brought you some more tea, and there’ll be homemade soup ready in about an hour if you think you’re up to eating.”
Slowly, Zana emerges from the blankets. She’s pale and there are shadows under her eyes and her nose is red and a little raw looking, but Jamie smiles all the same because she’s beautiful. “There’s my girl,” he says warmly, handing her the tea. “Drink up, okay?”
“Mmhmm.” Zana nods and takes the cup and Jamie watches until she finishes it and then retreats back into her blanket nest. He tucks her in and then turns to head back to the kitchen, stopping when her fingers wrap around his wrist.
“I love you,” she says, and it’s muffled under the blankets, but no less sincere. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
Jamie grins, as he always does when she says that, and he pulls the blankets down just enough that he can bend down and press a kiss to her forehead. “I love you, too. Get some rest, baby. I’ll wake you when the soup’s ready.”
His smile doesn’t dim as he goes back to his soup.
