A/N: Another sick day story for one nonny on Tumblr

All Stuffy and Serious

The headache was always the worst part of these head colds. Not only was it difficult to concentrate with the feeling of a band being tightened around one's head, but even the comforting and familiar buzz of conversation or footsteps could only serve to aggravate the already present discomfort. 'This could have come at a better time,' Enjolras groused silently one afternoon. as he pressed his brow against his knuckles. Even though he was alone in his office at the Hotel de Ville, he was still not spared from the chatter and hubbub of afternoon in this building. He blinked blearily at the suddenly formidable looking pile of papers on his desk; he would consider himself lucky if he could get through even half of this before the end of the day.

As he reached for his pen, he heard an all too familiar cadence of footsteps approaching his office door. 'Not just one but all three,' he thought, wincing at the sound. He took a deep breath sat up straight in an effort to appear less discomfited. "The door is unlocked," he called.

"Have you been going around all day sounding like that?" Combeferre asked as he, Courfeyrac, and Eponine all peered into the office.

"Told you it was a cross between honking and croaking," Eponine said as she rolled her eyes. "What are you still doing here at work?"

"I have to finish this. I mean it," Enjolras snapped.

"You're still on the mend!"

"I got some sleep yesterday. You definitely made sure of that."

Eponine gave him an exasperated look. "And you've gone and undone it!"

"Getting sick is no excuse to forget responsibilities," Enjolras retorted, fighting the urge to rub his aching temples.

Courfeyrac clucked his tongue as he rolled up his coat sleeves and loosened his cravat. "How can you work in this office? It's halfway to being an oven!"

"Now don't you dare…." Enjolras protested, knowing full well what his visitors were up to. Before he could move, he already felt Eponine's hands pressing on his shoulders, keeping him firmly in his seat. He gritted his teeth as he watched Combeferre and Courfeyrac throw the windows open. "I keep those closed against the drafts," he muttered.

"Miasma will also wreck havoc on your lungs, mind you. You would have to have this place aired some time," Combeferre said sagely as he also loosened his own cravat. "Eponine, is he feverish?"

Eponine placed her hand on Enjolras' brow for a few moments and then shook her head. "Only cross."

"An understatement," Enjolras muttered. The air felt far less heavy, but now he could feel his nose beginning to itch. He twisted away from Eponine's grip so he could muffle a loud sneeze. "I'm not going to get anything done."

"We know that," Courfeyrac drawled. "We also know how nice the Luxembourg or the Champs-Elysee can be at this hour."

"It's the middle of the day!"

"What's the use of taking in good air at night?" Courfeyrac laughed.

Eponine giggled as she ruffled Enjolras' hair. "You'll thank us one day for it. You know I'm right."

Enjolras sighed deeply even as he felt his headache continuing to abate. "Fine. Just for today then."

"Never thought I'd see the day you'd give in so easily," Combeferre quipped. "Thank goodness for that."

"It's only a tactical retreat," Enjolras muttered. "You'll have to try harder next time."