Disclaimer: Nickelodeon owns Big Time Rush.

Camille's Medicine

There was a soft knock on the door to Camille's apartment at the Palm Woods. She was lying on the couch huddled beneath layers upon layers of blankets. There were Kleenexes strewn all over the end table and floor of the living room.

"It's open," she called out.

Camille was very happy to see who was on the other side of the door—her…Logan. She wasn't quite sure what the two of them were to each other. Friends? Boyfriend and girlfriend?

"Jo told Kendall that you were sick, so I thought I'd stop by and check up on you. I also brought you some homemade chicken noodle soup," Logan said, holding up said container of soup.

Camille was actually kind of glad that she was sick. Maybe her blushing could be passed off as her being feverish.

"You're so sweet, Logan. Did you cook the soup yourself, or did Mrs. Knight do it?" Camille asked.

"I did," Logan answered.

"I didn't know you could cook."

"It wasn't that hard, really. I just looked up a recipe on my laptop."

Logan took a seat beside Camille on the couch. He set the container of soup on the end table. She could see the genuine concern in his eyes as he looked at her.

"Do you want the soup now or later? Can I get you anything? Something to drink, perhaps?" Logan questioned.

Camille smiled at Logan. Then she was overcome by a coughing fit. Yeah, that was real…attractive.

"You don't have to wait on me, Logan," Camille said. "Besides, the last thing I want is for me to get you sick too."

"I know I don't have to wait on you, Camille, but I want to. As for me getting sick, don't worry; you're most contagious the day before you experience symptoms. Or something like that," Logan replied.

When Logan had said that he wanted to wait on Camille, she felt as though she were on cloud nine. After three months of pining after him, he was finally starting to come around. Everything seemed to be going exactly as Camille had dreamt it would.

"Your voice sounds really hoarse. Have you been drinking enough water? The two most important things to do when you're sick are to get plenty of rest and drink plenty of fluids. Here, let me get you some water," Logan said, before getting up off the couch, and heading into the kitchen.

Camille reached her hand out as if to stop Logan from leaving her. She liked him being so close to her. His scent was intoxicating to her.

Logan soon returned with a glass of water. He handed it to Camille. She raised the glass to her mouth and greedily drank the cool liquid. Her throat was still sore, and her voice probably still sounded awful, but it was a temporary reprieve.

"I think I'll have some of your soup now," Camille said.

"Here you go," Logan said, passing the container of soup to Camille. "I'll go get you a spoon."

He went into the kitchen again. Twelve seconds. That was how long he was gone this time. Not that Camille was counting or anything…

"Mmm, this soup is so good!" Camille commented as she devoured it.

Logan cringed when Camille didn't even bother to blow on the soup. He had just taken it off the stove before he came over. Logan would hate for Camille to burn her tongue.

"You know you don't have to say that. You can tell me what you really think about the soup," Logan responded.

"It's the best chicken noodle soup I've ever tasted!"

Logan never ceased to amaze Camille. She already knew so much about him mostly due to her intel she collected via stalking him. There was still much she wanted to know about him though. Of course he would make an excellent cook. The boy's a freaking genius. Following a recipe is hardly a challenge for him.

He playfully nudged her shoulder.

"You better say that. I slaved in the kitchen all morning making it especially for you," Logan said, as he grinned at her, his eyes crinkling up as he did so.

"Oh no. Poor Logie," Camille replied, as she playfully nudged him back.

The two just stared at one another. They got lost in each other's eyes. No words needed to be said. There's a saying that your eyes are the window to your soul. Their eyes did the talking for the two teens.

Logan leaned in. Their foreheads were the first to touch. Then their noses grazed against each other. She could feel his warm breath on her face. This was what Camille had been waiting for. Sure, they've kissed before, but she was the one who did the kissing then. She always wondered how good of a kisser Logan was though she didn't doubt he was an incredible kisser. Right now, his soft lips looked oh so inviting.

Then she sneezed…all over him.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" Camille exclaimed, frantically rummaging for a Kleenex that hadn't been used.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it," Logan said, laughing.

Camille was befuddled. How could he be laughing after she just got snot all over his face and clothes? Camille sighed.

"What did I do to deserve you?" she asked.

"You act like you're the lucky one when in reality, I'm the lucky one to have you," Logan commented.

Once more, Camille felt like she was floating on clouds. She could argue with him about who really is the lucky one, but she was so touched by his words that she lost all desire to be disagreeable.

Camille yawned.

"I'm getting kind of sleepy," she said.

"Would you like me to leave so you can get some rest?" Logan asked.

"Stay. Please?"

Camille tugged on Logan so that the two of them were lying on the couch together. He held her in his arms, and she snuggled up against his chest. She could hear the pitter patter of his heart, and it lulled her to sleep.

Camille didn't need medicine to make her feel better. She had Logan. He was her medicine.