A/N: Aaand… I have no life. I'm procrastinating on my homework. I'll bet you are too. Glory. And now for the next installment of Fever!

Kit19: I love cookie dough. I can't think of anything bad about cookie dough. Glad you like this. I kinda did it as a joke… but it keeps me entertained in geometry and chemistry, so….

Matrix-Twin1: yeah, like I said, I was sick and I was bored. (I did however neglect to mention the cough medicine that was most definitely involved)

IrishGuy2047: I love you, you leave happy reviews! I could be really gross and have her throw up all over somebody…. But I'm nice, so I won't :P

S Darkness: well what DID you expect? Jw.. and thank you!

Monkeys!: that's a funnie poem. I lost the book several years ago, between houses, ya know? Glad you like it!

I was totally not expecting people to read this…

D/C: As I've mention before, and as everybody knows already, the Matrix does not belong to me. And if it did, you can bet your bottom dollar that the Twins would have more screen time and more lines.

Fever!

We carried the bloody girl to the car, and by the grace of the programmer she didn't sneeze all over us. Wincing, we stuck her in the backseat. As long as the thing didn't sneeze or cough on the seat, we wouldn't kill it. Yet. Whatever the Merovingian wants her for, it better be good. Sick girls are not our business. No. way.

The ride to the airport was pleasantly quiet. We read the paper while we drove. Clarissa or whatever her name was in the backseat was quiet as a mouse. She didn't cough or sneeze once. Thank the gods if there are any.

We were already half way to the chateau when sleeping beauty woke up. Her eyes were this creepy bloodshot colour. We were freaked out.
~@~
For some reason, I'm in an airplane sitting across from these two guys I found in my kitchen. IF I had a voice, it wouldn't be so quiet. Then again, I'm dreaming, so… I gotta admit, though, they're kinda cute, in a creepy identical way. I'm going back to sleep.
~@~
We cannot believe that anyone's eyes could possibly be so red. We could not even tell what colour they normally were, either.
~@~
"We don't like her eyes."

"We don't either."

"Can we believe that she has that much blood? They were pink."

"Yes, we can believe she has that much blood."

"We hope she quits coughing."

"We are going to be infected."

"The Merovingian better get her away fast."

"Sick people are disgusting."

"All those germs…"

The twins shared a shudder. Germs…

About every five minutes, the sick girl coughed. After another hour, she woke again.

Clarice rubbed her eyes. Yeah, the twin things were still there. They sat in silence for several minutes, staring. Clarice decided to try sign language, something she hadn't bothered to keep up. She had learned sign language in fifth grade for an elective…

She pointed at the men (the sign for 'you') and then she made the sign for 'name'. Of course, they did not understand her. She tried several times before giving up with a huff and crossing her arms. She stared out the window for several minutes.

"What was it trying to say?"

"We don't know."

Indignant, Clarice fixed them both with the most evil look she felt she could muster. Her attempt failed, and the twins fell into peals of laughter. Clarice turned back to the window. The clouds began to disappear. What a strange dream, she thought. With a groan, she stood up and stumbled to the lavatory.

"What's her problem?"

"We could always ask her."

"She can't talk."

"All the more reason to ask her."

When Clarice returned, she found the twins looking at her with the strangest grins. It was nightmarish.

"What's wrong with you?" one asked.

Clarice coughed. To her, that seemed like a logical explanation.

"What? Are you sick?" the other asked.

Clarice felt ready to kill the idiots, but she only nodded.

"That sucks. What do you have?"

Clarice tried to sign out her malady, but she remembered that they did not understand. She only shook her head and looked out the window. She felt the Sandman coming, but she didn't give up the battle just yet.

"Well? What's the matter with you?"

British accents. They ought to have been smart. Instead, they seemed like the biggest idiots in the world. To her, the inability to talk and coughing and being sick logically and obviously meant that she had a sore throat and had lost her voice. She fell to sleep.

"Maybe she lost her voice.."

"Probably. We'll ask her again when she wakes up."

"It'll make her mad."

"It will."

"Good."

~@~

This is ridiculous. Does no one here realize that I'm sick? I'm being marched around and told to sit down and to stand up and it's ridiculous. My only assurance that this is nothing but a dream is the fact that I seem to wind up in random places. First my kitchen, then a plane, and now some fancy shmancy French restaurant. Those twins things are making me walk to this silly dais on one end of the large room. Looking down at myself, I'm still in my pajamas and my ball cap. I look like crap. No-one seems to notice or care. Hello? I'm a sick person? Germs? Anyone? Idiots, all of them. My dreams are getting weirder and weirder… I gotta cut back on the sugar.
~@~

"Hello, Clarice…" the man at the table said.

Will people ever stop doing that to me? Clarice thought. She only nodded. The twins made her sit down across the table from the psycho Hannibal imitator. He looked nothing like Anthony Hopkins.

"You're wondering why you're here," he said.

Clarice rolled her eyes. No shit, Sherlock…

The man had an annoying, smug smile plastered to his face. "My employees," he said, glancing pointedly at the twins, "brought you here becauhse you are going to hehlp me."

Really?

"You see, you 'ave a virus, a nahsty virus, at that. A virus created by.moi. This virus will not go avay until I erase it, and I'm not goingg to do zhat until I'm quite certain that you 'ave done your job."

Clarice hated the way his voice rolled up and down the words in an almost singsong way. Typical villain speech.

"You're pahrents believe zat they 'ave sent you to a boarding school. Grades will be sent 'ome to zhem, and their levelles vill be determined by your cooperasion. All zat you need to do is be sick. Not to hard for you, I 'ope?" he asked. He looked at her expectantly.

Clarice glared fiercely and looked over to the twin things that had been escorting her everywhere. They had moved as far away from her as possible as soon as possible. They were on the opposite end of the dais, cringing in their chairs. What is their problem?

"Well, child? Speak up."

Clarice rolled her eyes. She did not want to talk. Her virtually nonexistent voice was a rasp of air that barely formed words. She supposed she could try to whisper, but she could not see that it would do any good.

"Just who exactly are you, frog boy?" she whispered.

"Excuse moi?" The Frenchman was taken aback. He opened his eyes wide with surprise and narrowed them in anger. Then he began to spout French threats or insults back at Clarice.

The lady beside him looked to the ceiling and shook her head, as if to say, "He does this every.single.day."

"Well, who are you?" Clarice retorted.

The Frenchman's eyes bulged. "I am ze Merovingian, dammit! And you, gerl, ahre goingg to hehlp me whezer you want to or not!"

"Breathe you overgrown wart. Why exactly am I sick?"

Ignoring her insult, the Merovingian proceeded to explain the twins. "Vell you see," he said. "Some of my employees ahre, ah, mild hypochondriacs."

"Mild hypochondriacs?" she whispered. "Is that even possible?"

"VELL OBVIOUSLY IT IZ!!"

"Calm down, sheesh…"

"Zhey are terribly skittish of gaerms. Not everayday, oh no you 'ave touched me, now I shall di-ie germs, but oh no you 'ave coughed on me, now I must take eight ahnd a hahlf showers… Understand, gerl?"

"Whatever…" She shook her head. "And which employees might these be?"

"Oh you 'ave already met zhem. Tvins! Escort Miss Clarice to 'er room. And make sure she iz comfertable. Ve don't want 'er running loose."

The Twins stood up and walked over as slowly.as.possible. Carefully they led the way out of the restaurant, one in front and the other behind.

~MnI~

now that I have established the storyline, and insulted the pigheaded nutto, I would like to know if this is too strange… I swear, I won't be too mean to the twinses… It's fun to mock the bestest chars ever! Yaay!

Oh, and I'm going to reassert my declaration that Clarice is not me. Personally, if I met the Merovingian, I'd be too in awe of the Twins to say anything. And if I met the Twins themselves, I'd probably be like, "Ohmagah… *poke* Can I see your razor? Can you really ghost and all? Are your names really One and Two? Am I dreaming.. or dead?"

Yeah…. Random, eh? My alterego however would be mean. Muahahahaha…. Until next time…

PS: clarice my laptop, who was injured, is all better now. We loves kyle, the lord of the cave!