Disclaimer: I don't own HP or Naruto.

Nurse Jiraiya?

FemHarry x Jiraiya in denial.

^.^

When Jiraiya entered Hari's apartment through the window, and heard his her voice calling out the moment the he closed the window behind him, he didn't think much of it. Even when he realized that it was coming from the bathroom, he didn't suspect an emergency. Mainly because Hari's voice sounded so calm and collected saying his name, saying "Jiraiya" the way she always said it with that hint of fond exasperation.

"In here," came Hari's voice from behind the closed bathroom door. "I could use a little help." she continued. Jiraiya dutifully set down the groceries he had brought over and opened the door, expecting nothing really. Certainly not expecting Hari naked, pale, and sprawled on the floor helplessly. She was on her belly, looking up at him awkwardly over her shoulder.

"I took a shower and got nauseous," Hari said, rolling her eyes. "Don't look at me like that."

Jiraiya has no idea how he's looking at Hari, shocked probably, but he does his best to stop. Averting his eyes seems like a good first measure.

There's a towel on the floor, next to Hari's ivory thigh, which Jiraiya grabs – the towel, not the thigh, certainly not the thigh – and throws it over her without taking proper aim, on account of trying not to look too closely. It's one thing to ogle her when they're out in the village but this, however, is another matter. It's not the nudity that gets him, because he's an upcoming super pervert and Kami dammit he can admire as many ladies as he wants, but the vulnerability of Hari's position.

How exposed she is, and how fragile she looks.

Jiraiya has little choice but to touch her now. His heart flutters in his chest as he bends down and picks up his friend, whose skin is too cool and too damp under his hands. But he lifts her easily, as if she's almost weightless. He adjusts the towel a bit and turns Hari over, carrying her in his arms, bridal style.

And Hari, weak but not that weak, snatches the towel, holding it to her chest with both hands before it can slide to the floor and embarrass them further.

"You could have just helped me up, you know," she says, exasperated.

"You should be at the hospital." Jiraiya counters, then realizes that this is a mistake he can rectify. "I'll take you to Tsunade."

"Oh yes, please carry my naked body through the streets of Konoha." Hari drawls, and Jiraiya pretends that was her giving him actual permission. He heads for the door.

Weakly, Hari swats at his chest. "I was being sarcastic you twit."

Hari is his best friend, she is a woman of many strengths and talents but over time, Jiraiya has learned that she has horrible judgement when it comes to her own health. So Jiraiya feigns deafness and marches on.

"At the hospital I'd only take up space and keep Tsunade from taking care of the patients who really need her."

Jiraiya takes another faltering step.

"My bed." Hari says, then interrupts herself with a sneeze. "Will do, thank you."

Fine. He'll just bring Tsunade here later.

It's just the flu, anyway. Hari shouldn't be as weak as she is, but illnesses have always hit her harder than they ever did Jiraiya. Plus, she only just recovered from the effects of that nasty poison Orochimaru accidentally hit her with.

Jiriaya lays his best friend down on the bed and quickly pulls the thin blanket up to her chin.

"Thank you," she croaks out softly.

Jiraiya nods, wondering if he should get his best friend some clothes from the wardrobe. The thought of Hari's naked body under that blanket gives him weird feelings him for some reason. But then he doesn't know if Hari has enough strength and coordination to dress herself. If he doesn't, then he'll have to help her—

Nope. No clothes. Hari doesn't seem to miss them anyway. She looks sleepy and feverish now, worse than before when she looked cold and clammy.

Ah! There are other things he can do for her, the entire reason he came. The groceries still sit untouched on the floor next to the door to the bathroom.

Jiraiya brought her favorites, fruit, mostly pears and oranges, packets of instant miso soup and orange juice. Like any good friend, he also took a visit to Konoha's bookstore and picked up a book he thinks Hari might enjoy, and one for himself as well.

He snaps back to the situation at hand, that is Hari sniffling in bed, her face a ghostly white with some splotches of feverish pink on her cheeks.

"I'll cut you some fruit, Hari!" he declares, a little more loudly than necessary. The quietness of the room was getting to him.

Hari just looks at him in that resigned amused manner of hers. The blanket wrapped around her only seeming to emphasize the fact that she's naked beneath it. It clings to her breasts and thighs, and it finally occurs to Jiraiya that she was still wet from her shower when he had covered her. He should have helped her dry herself off first, why didn't he do that? Hari is already sick; this oversight might aggravate her already weak condition.

He should have taken that towel and used it to dry her off – he recalls the perfect little droplets of water clinging to Hari's skin like dew. He should have –

Jiraiya finds himself imagining the act of rubbing Hari down with the towel. Hari sprawled on the floor with him kneeling over her, how she would feel through the fabric—

His own cheeks are pink now, blood thrumming through his veins. He doesn't understand where these thoughts are coming from or where they will go if he lets them. He mustn't let them. Hari is his best friend. He can't think of her like that, not when she's sick at least.

He is here to take care of her, his best friend.

Pears and oranges. A glass of juice. Maybe some soup.
Hari probably hasn't eaten anything remotely healthy in days.

He smiles at her, hoping she can't see through him and how worried he is. "Alright Hari, I'm going to make you all better. I'm going to give you some oranges and penis."

He hears himself say it before his brain can really catch up to the fact that his mouth produced the word. The drastic changes in Hari's expression, from discomfort to pure amusement, helps to clue him in as well.

"PEARS!" He exclaims, frozen in place. "I meant the fruit!"

"Really? Because what you said was—" Hari's bubbling laughter is harshly interrupted by an attack of hacking coughs and a couple of sneezes.

"I'm going to grab you fruit!" Jiraiya flees from the room before Hari has recovered enough to tease him about the color of his face.

Hari is half-asleep when Jiraiya brings her back some sliced pears and a glass of orange juice. Since she has to sit up in bed to drink, the blanket slips down slightly, nearly exposing her, but she catches it just in time.

Once she's done, Hari slumps against the headboard and slides down bonelessly, back onto the pillow.

She's flushed with fever, deep red strands of hair sticking to her damp forehead and sprawled across her pillow.

Her breathing is a little fast, and there's something hypnotic about the quick rise and fall of her chest.

In a way, she almost looks like—

Jiraiya makes himself snap out of it then and there. Hari is a friend, his best friend. He needs to stop these thoughts until she's all better and can tease him about his lecherous ways. His previous slip of the tongue comes to mind. Penis. He said penis instead of pears. He mentally face palms at his idiocy.

"Do you need anything else, my friend?"

Hari looks up at him from under her unruly mop of hair, bleary-eyed and exhausted; the next coughing fit can't be more than a few minutes away.

"No, I'm fine." She smiles at him tiredly. He knows it's meant to put him at ease but all it does is make him worry more. "I guess I just need some sleep."

It's a hint he's supposed to take, he can tell. He's missed so many of these that Hari has spelled it out for him more than once. This is usually how it starts, with the meaningful looks and certain tone of voice. He's is going to pretend he missed his cue because there's no way he's leaving her alone like this.

"Good. I'll watch over you then."

"I'm fine, really." Hari says as tersely as she can manage. Meaning, you can go now.

"You're not. As your best friend, it's my duty to nurse you back to health." It's just after the last word has left his mouth, that he remembers his earlier slip of the tongue and the books he brought over. Hari's are some fairy tale books for children but his book is not something entirely appropriate. The book that's sitting on the kitchen counter. It's about doctors, nurses, and patients. When he was in the bookstore he thought it would be kind of amusing to read in front of Hari, considering the circumstances, but now it feels very inappropriate.

He'll have to take the book home with him when he leaves, he can read it later, not in front of Hari.

Hari, he notices, has stopped protesting and sunk deeper into her bed, too tired to even lift her head.

"Okay." She mumbles weakly, and with that last word, she's asleep. Just like that, motionless except for the rise and fall of her chest.

And all Jiraiya can do is stand there like some creep and stare at his beautiful friend, trying not to feel the sensation of his heart expanding in his chest, a mixture of pain and pleasure he dares not name. Because he can't fall for his friend, he can't.

^.^