"Am I too late for tea?"

"Ah, no. I had half expected you'd be late. The biscuits are kind of... gone, though."

"Kind of gone? Care to elaborate?"

"Well... It took you a long time and I didn't have much else to do than eating them. Can't take a genius to figure that out. So how did it go?"

"As expected. A bit of fighting. A lot of pleading. The usual really."

"Sounds almost boring. Though not half as bad as what's on the telly at this hour. You could have texted."

"Why? You expected me to be late anyway."

"I know, but... It would have given me the illusion of company. Sitting here with a low fever isn't very exciting. I'm sure I would have been fine if I had come along."

"You would have been a distraction. Another thing for me to worry about."

A huff sounded. "Guess I'll take that as a compliment, coming from you. Caring too much about me to be able to focus."

"Caring for your safety. And worrying that you might get in the way. Make matters worse."

"Yeah, thanks. I get the point."

A soft laugh, disguised as a cough. "So... Tea?"

"Yeah. The water's still hot, so pour yourself some, if you don't mind. Don't feel like getting up again, now I can order you about."

"Right... Thanks..."

"Don't suppose the adrenalin has already worn off enough to sit with me for a bit?"

"Maybe if I didn't have to go and make tea..."

"When you're back. Can't take you that long, or do you really not know where I keep the teabags?"

"Uhm... One of the cupboards?"

A snort was being masked in a less than artful manner, followed by a small cough. "Second from the left, eye level. My eye level."

"All the way down there?"

"Ha ha. Hurry. I'm cold."

"Put on an extra jumper." A moment later a call sounded from the kitchen. "Where are the cups?"

The question was followed by a loud groan. "You bloody live here! And I thought you were observant. One level higher."

"Why should I go around remembering where the cups are? You know, so I can just ask you." A giggle sounded. "I thought you said your eye level. You didn't mention standing on your toes."

"That never gets old, huh? Still cold. Your fault."

"Then come join me. It'll be a couple of minutes before the tea is ready."

"Urrghff."

"I'm sorry. I didn't quite catch that."

"Don't. Want. To. Get. Up."

"Then stay cold. I can't both keep you warm and make tea, can I?"

"I hate you." It was just a mumble. A very sulky one.

"I hate you too," came the cheerful answer.

It was quiet for a short while. Then, "You do realise that you can let your tea steep here just as well?"

A moment's pause was followed by a soft clinking. "Right, sorry. I'll be there in a moment."

"Idiot."

"Thank you. Do you want milk in yours?"

"Yeah. And honey, please. And no drugs or poison."

"Not even a little?" The cup was delivered with a small teasing bow. "Here you are. I hope it is to your liking."

"Thanks. Now please get here before I've frozen to death."

"Of course. Move over."

"Unf. Why?"

"So there's room for both of us, silly."

After some very reluctant shifting, there was enough space.

Snuggling, it turned out, was much better for keeping warm than tea. Even tea with honey in it.