I wrote this a few weeks ago when I was sick and then forgot about it until today. So I decided to finish and post it. There are only two chapters, but I think it's a sweet story and I hope you enjoy.

I know the title of this story was used on the show, but I simply couldn't think of a different name that would fit.

Chapter 1: Miserable

Teresa Lisbon took a couple deep breaths to help regulate her discomfort. Her head and ears pounded as she tried to maintain her focus on the computer screen. Her throat was raspy and felt like it had been burned by torches and she could tell that her skin was warm to the touch and that she was feverish. Her eyelids drooped lazily and her fingers felt like rubber as she typed on her keyboard, but she had a deadline. She had to finish filing a report on their last case or else her boss would raise hell about it. The paperwork needed to be finished as soon as possible because until it was, the new, very expensive hotel, where the murder took place, can not continue as scheduled with it's grand opening.

She felt queasy enough to call in sick, but she was still obligated to finish the report. She was lying in bed with her head propped up by several pillows, her movements slow and difficult.

To be honest, she felt like crap.

All she had to do was write what happened, but the case had been complicated with many twists and false leads, all of which needed to be archived. Lisbon moaned slightly, her head lulling back in defeat. She was close to drifting to sleep when a loud ping startled her. She jumped slightly when she noticed her laptop was at full volume. She was tempted to resume her sleep, but instead sat up and focused yet again on her computer screen. She searched the page for any sign of where the ping may have come from, but found nothing. She then checked the programs minimized at the bottom and found that the sound had come from a window open to the CBI mainframe. She had needed it earlier to check that she had spelled the perpetrator's name correctly. Her weary eyes scanned the screen and pinpointed the source.

Someone had sent her an instant message.

PJsAreCool: You should be asleep.

It took a minute for Lisbon to process the message. She would frown, but she knew creasing her eyebrows would only antagonize her headache. Lisbon reached out for a tissue from the box. Of all the days to get a cold…

BossTL: who is this?
PJsAreCool: …
PJsAreCool: Guess.
BossTL: jane
PJsAreCool: Winner!
PJsAreCool: Stop working.
BossTL: i'm not
BossTL: i'm at home
PJsAreCool: You're sick and you're online!
PJsAreCool: You need rest.
BossTL: why don't you just type u?
PJsAreCool: Wow.
PJsAreCool: You're just as stubborn online as you are in real life.
BossTL: :(
PJsAreCool: Really? A smiley?
BossTL: :)

Lisbon paused, regretting what she sent. It was something she just liked to tag onto her messages as a means of expressing lightheartedness, but for Jane a smiley meant something entirely different. Jane didn't respond and a sudden wave of fear overwhelmed her.

BossTL: sorry

She waited.

PJsAreCool: How are you feeling?
BossTL: crap
BossTL: but I have to finish a damn report
PJsAreCool: Weird. I can sense your frustration through a computer…
BossTL: this convo is distracting me
BossTL: shouldn't you be working?
PJsAreCool: Convo?
BossTL: u don't have that much experience with this do u?
BossTL: conversation!
PJsAreCool: It's hard to read people through a computer. It's too impersonal.
BossTL: finally a place where i am safe from ur constant observations
PJsAreCool: Why are you working on a report?
BossTL: deadline
BossTL: boss is making me
PJsAreCool: …But you're sick.
BossTL: i have to finish it by this afternoon
PJsAreCool: I've got to go.
BossTL: u mean gtg?
PJsAreCool: STOP working. I'll handle it.
BossTL: how exactly r u planning to do that?
BossTL: jane?

Jane went offline, leaving Lisbon to contemplate her report. She minimized the page and switched back to Word. She decided to read over what she had written so far. Her eyes scanned the page to find several delirious errors and a major problem in her sequencing of events. Lisbon moaned and grasped her head in her hands. She wanted to throw her laptop across the room, but surmised she wouldn't have the strength to even if she tried.

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