A/N: That blasted muse of mine promted this one. She gave me the title and said do something with it... so I did.

Anders bursts through the doorway coming to an almost skidding halt beside his makeshift bed. "How…" Panting for breath, he shakes his head and drops to his knees beside him. Beads of sweat have formed across his forehead. His skin is covered in a sheer slick layer of moisture while drops of sweat trickle down his spine.

Hawke runs her hand through her short coif. "I don't know. We were coming back and he just… collapsed. He didn't say a thing about being sick or hurt. He's burning up with fever and my token knowledge of healing didn't seem to do him much good. I gave him an elfroot potion and a mild sleeping draught."

Anders simply nods taking in every word she says. His heart is racing at the sight of his limp body. He bats his eyes to keep the panic at bay. "Water, fresh cold, clean preferred… and lots of it. I will need to submerge him in it to bring the fever down fast."

Mentally Anders has already dismissed Hawke before she even had a chance to walk away. Anders feels himself slip in to 'healer-mode' and gets to work. First things first, the armor will have to go before he's submerged. Anders sets about removing Fenris' armor starting with his gauntles followed by his pauldrons and last his fingers nimble work on his leather chest armor making short work of the buckles. His movements suddenly stop. He pulls his hands back in panic.

His hands tremble, his breathing hitches and he has to close his eyes to pull himself together. Anders licks his lips nervously before peeling off the chest armor exposing Fenris' brief linen shirt drenched with sweat hugging his form. Anders moans at the sight of him. Gently his fingers slip up Fenris' arm along his lyrium markings, reveling in the feel of them. Looking at his body Anders feels his own stir. Anders slips his hands under his linen shirt, his palms flat against his taut belly and moving the length of him from waist to chest.

A loud metallic clank accompanied by sploshing liquid startled him from his thoughts. Anders jumps guiltily and pulls his hands away from Fenris. He mutters to himself. "Pull it together."

"Anders?" Hawke voice calls from downstairs.

Anders brushes silky white tresses plastered with sweat from Fenris' forehead. He rests one palm on his forehead the other on his chest, closes his eyes and concentrates tuning out the obnoxious clomping of leather booted feet as they reluctantly climb the stairway.

"Anders." Hawke hisses from the doorway.

He lets Hawke wait. The blue healing light fades from his hands and he calmly looks over his shoulder at her. "Yes?"

Hawke rolls her eyes. "I found a tub like thing and its half full of water but there is no way I'm gonna lug it up here so you're just going to have to carry him down."

Carry him… as in hold Fenris in his arms. Carry… Carry Fenris… Anders turns his attention back to his patient and nods quickly, too quickly. His voice is detached and foreign to his ears. "Fill it completely and let me know when you're ready. I… I will carry him down." His heart pounds loudly in his ears, his breath is shallow and he wonders how it is Hawke doesn't hear it. Maybe she does and is just too polite… wait… no, this is Hawke, she is never too polite.

"Okay." Hawke simply nods and makes her way back downstairs leaving them alone again.

He buries his head in his hands with a groan knowing what he must do next. "How can I…" Justice balks in his mind. He snarls biting back the negativity and gazes on Fenris. His hands begin trembling again. He bites his lip stifling a moan while loosening his leggings. He eases Fenris' hips upwards and turns his head as an image of the man bucking towards him in passion plays before him. "Stop… please…" Gripping his leggings Anders slips them from his muscular legs. Anders grips the makeshift bed, his eyes wide, and his mouth is suddenly dry at the sight of Fenris in his small clothes. "Maker's breath…"

Anders bites the inside of his cheek. His hand hovers over Fenris. A whimper escapes him as he mentally berates himself for being so weak. His eyes travel Fenris' body longingly. He has felt Fenris pressed against him in his anger yet Anders longed to feel him willingly and wantonly press against him in the heat of passion.

Anders winces as Justice berates him. He turns his head hissing. "Okay!" The pain eases becoming bearable. He turns his attention back to Fenris with palms down hovering over him. Blue magical light lightly permeates his body. His left hand pauses near Fenris' side. His breath hitches. Anders groans. "I'm sorry." How did he miss that? "This is my fault."

"Anders!" Hawke calls from downstairs. "It's ready."

"Okay." He doesn't yell back, he simply speaks, more to himself and Fenris than to Hawke. Anders removes his robe tossing it aside before reaching for Fenris. "This is going to be uncomfortable for you. I'm sorry but there is nothing I can do until your fever breaks."

Gently he slips an arm underneath his knees and another behind his back. He cradles Fenris' limp form to his body hissing softly at the immense heat he generates. Fenris' head rests on Anders' chest. Anders rests his cheek on his head inhaling deeply unable to resist his musky scent. He averts his eyes from Fenris body. He did his best to ignore how smooth his skin is, how much he enjoys the feel of Fenris' skin against his own, how muscular his whole body is and how deliciously snug his small clothes are while carrying him downstairs.

Hawke did indeed manage to fill a tub of sorts with cold water, fresh was skeptical but it was cold. Hawke quirked an eyebrow at Anders noting the robe-less, bare chested mage and the gentle way he carried his patient. Anders chose to ignore the unspoken question in her look and gently slips Fenris' lower half in the water, "Help me. He'll need something to support his head."

Anders slides Fenris fully into the tub. The water sloshes everywhere as they prop him in the tub as best they can. Hawke smooths Fenris' hair. Anders sits back on his heel gripping the side of the tub. Fenris groans. It is deep, guttural, feral and it stirs Anders. "Focus."

"What?"

"What?" Anders blinks at her.

"You said something." Hawke peers at him.

Anders shakes his head dismissing her. "No, I didn't."

Hawke crouches on the other side of the tub across from Anders still watching him. "When I was a little girl we'd get up to some mischief and fall. We'd come tearing in to the house crying up a storm." Anders raises an eyebrow. "Oh Carver was the worse. Anyhow, my mother would kiss us and make things all better." She bites her lip trying to fight a grin. "You could do that, you know… just kiss him and make him all better." Anders ignores her. His hands begin glowing again. He flinches visibly. "What? What is it?"

The guilt and pain are plain in his eyes so he lowers them rather than face her. "Metal. Small. If I had to wager, I'd say it was the size of the tip of a dagger. It is somehow lodged within him and has managed to nick his left kidney." He gives her an anguished look. "How could I have missed that? When did I leave it there? I can't magic it out of there either, I have to cut him open in order to retrieve it and I can't do that until his fever breaks."

Hawke bites her lip. "So uh, no kiss huh…"

"Hawke…" Anders groans burying his head in his hands.

Hawke shrugs, "I'm just saying you'd be surprised how magical a kiss can be." She stands and puts her hands on her hips. "I am gonna hop over to my house and grab some linens and things…" She looks around Fenris' shabby mansion. "And some food and uh… stuff." She walks around the tub, leans over and plants a soft kiss on the top of Ander's head. Anders grins up at her. "See, you feel better…" She waves her fingers. "Be back in a bit."

Anders stares at Fenris listening to her leave. He licks lips nervously and leans closer. The musky scent of him fills him again. He brushes his hair from his eyes and softly kisses his forehead. "Please get better."