"You can't skip three days of school," Mary said as Warren sat next to her with a mug of his disgusting tea. She didn't even look at it, hoping that he wouldn't force her to drink if she just ignored it. "I don't want you to fall behind because of me."

"I've already done all the assigned homework and even worked a few chapters ahead," Warren said, scooting closer to her side. "Three days isn't going to put me back."

Mary sighed. "I just feel bad. I'm not exactly the best company right now." She pulled the heavy wool blanket around her in the attempt to chase away the feeling of ice settling over her skin, wincing at the disjointed and stiffness in her limbs. She'd been chilled all through that morning's chaos of everyone scrambling to get out the door. At least her eyes weren't hurting anymore.

Warren held up the tea. "The sooner you drink it, the sooner you can get the taste out of your mouth." Mary shifted her gaze from the offending mug to meet his, glaring as he simply waited her out. With a frown, she grabbed the tea and drained it as fast as she could with as minimum burning of her mouth as possible. The taste still made her gag.

"That is vile." She shoved the mug away from her, shaking her head as Warren took it from her hand and shoved one of Suzy's cookies into her mouth. "I'd ask what was in it, but I don't think I want to know."

"Couldn't tell you, anyway. Family secret." He watched her curl into a tighter ball under the blankets. "Still feel cold?" She nodded, pulling the fabric up over her head. Warren set the mug down on the coffee table and held out his arms to her. She blinked a few times. He gestured her to come closer. "Pyros have higher body temperature. My mom says it's like curling up with a furnace. And you already think I'm a good enough pillow."

She hadn't meant to use Warren as a pillow, but he wasn't wrong in that he was like a personal heater. She'd loved waking up surrounded by heat that morning; Warren at her back and Randy curled up in her lap. It hadn't been until they'd both moved away during everyone's rush to get ready for school that she realized they'd been keeping her toasty warm. She'd be lying if she wasn't tempted to crawl back into Warren's arms for that heat once more.

She gave what she hoped was a teasing smile. "If you wanted a hug, you could have just said so." Warren smirked slightly but kept his arms open. Mary unwrapped her blankets a bit and leaned against his chest, cheek pressed into the fabric of his t-shirt. He closed his arms around her and leaned back against the sofa's arm. She felt him adjust the blankets around them but could only smile as his heat chased the icy chill away. "So warm," she mumbled.

Warren chuckled, his chest shaking slightly under her cheek. "Finally. A purpose in life."

Mary tilted her head up slightly to look at him but could only see a bit of his chin and cheek. "Why, Mr. Peace, I believe you just made a joke. Whatever will people say about your brooding emo reputation?"

"They'll never believe you," he replied easily.

"What if I had pictures of you being my pillow?"

"Obviously faked."

"Eyewitness account from the others?"

"Coerced into giving false testimony."

"Wow. Have you thought about this before?"

"Nope."

"So that's right off the top of your head?"

"Yup."

Mary laughed. "I think you're going to be a fantastic actor."

Warren shifted so he was looking down at her. "Why?"

"You came up with that right on the spot. Isn't improv supposed to be an important skill for an actor?"

"I would think learning the lines would be a bit important, too."

Mary huffed dramatically. "Overrated."

Warren's chest shook with a chuckle. "I don't think the directors would look at it that way." He pressed a hand to her forehead. "How do you feel?"

"Much better." She leaned into his warm touch. "First I have a fever then I'm cold. Could I just get better already? Why do I drink that awful tea if it's not helping?"

"It is helping. It just takes a while. You'll be up and about tomorrow."

Mary nodded tiredly. "Just in time to see your audition," she mumbled. Even though she'd just woken up an hour ago with everyone's rush to get to school, she was feeling tired again. Her eyes drifted shut and she dozed off. Warren: personal heating pillow. It suited him.

Warren roused Mary around lunch time with a cup of regular mint tea, the last serving of chicken casserole, and an apple. Along with a hot shower that washed away the last of the chill on her skin and eased the tension in her joints, Mary felt better than she had in the last few days. Warren still made her down another cup of his horrid tea but gratefully announced, after taking her temperature, that she would be ready for school tomorrow.

"Then I guess you're heading home tonight?"

"I should. My mom will want to know how you're doing even though I tell her during our nightly calls."

Mary smiled slightly. "You and your mom are pretty close, huh?"

Warren shrugged, leaning back into the couch. "We both work and I have to go to school so our schedules don't exactly line up the way we'd like. But a ten or twenty minute phone call about our days helps. It doesn't fix everything, but we're all we have since Dad's in prison." He paused, as if considering something. "When I first came here, I was a bit surprised at how lively your house was. I kind of rattle around in mine, which pushed me to get a job, but I don't think I've ever felt that way here."

Mary pulled her feet up under her, wrapping her arms around her knees. She hoped he never had to feel that; to be wrapped up in the depression of the empty and still house with no one around. A memory of her night after homecoming flashed in her eye but she quickly banished it. She forced a smile for Warren. "I think I'd like to visit your house some time."

There was a look in his eyes–had he seen her hesitation?–but he nodded. "You, Randy, and Suzy are welcome to join us for dinner tomorrow. Mom has the night off and already said she was looking forward to meeting you properly."

"Because apparently you talk about me."

Warren tried to fight the blush that still rose to his cheeks. He looked adorable. "Well, you are my friend, right? Of course I'm going to talk about my friends to my mom."

Mary bit her lip to keep from smiling at his reaction. "But isn't it a bit of a short notice," she said, willingly changing the topic. "Would your Mom mind having three extra people over for dinner?"

"I think she'd love the company. Will your dad mind you three coming over, though?"

Mary stiffened at the mention of her dad. She'd forgotten all about him when the others had been over. Had he come back at all during the last three days? Had the others noticed? Had the twins? She kept her smile in place as she answered, "He's on a long term assignment. It's hard to contact him at times when he's on one of those and he can't always get home but I don't think he'd mind. He'd be happy to know I'm making friends."

There was that look again; the one where Warren seemed to be looking right through her excuse. Would he call her out on it? Her French friends had understood her lack of mentioning her dad and hadn't brought up the subject, though they might have figured out her father's neglect. They had been supportive and caring, in their own ways, but they'd never talked to her about it. What would Warren–

"Ok. So dinner tomorrow night. We can pick up the twins from the bus stop and walk to my house. It's not that far from here."

Mary blinked but nodded slowly. "Sure. Sounds good."

Warren nodded. He turned to the TV and picked up the remote. "Think there's anything good on?" He started to flip through the channels, leaving Mary to wonder what happened.

He wasn't going to push her? She'd been sure he would say something; there was no mistaking that look in his eyes. Or had she read that wrong? Was he just being considerate and didn't want to make her uncomfortable? It was only a matter of time before someone noticed Nathan Lamb's absence. She should have known that a three day visitor would notice. Did that mean her other friends knew? They'd been sleeping over for two nights; they had to know something was up. Right? But Warren wasn't bringing it up. Did he care? Did he not? Why did the uncertainty make her so nervous?

"You're overthinking."

Mary jerked slightly. Warren had stopped on the old film channel and, though his eyes were on the screen, she knew he was watching her. Mary tightened her hold on her knees. "Sorry."

He was silent for a moment then slowly reached out, placing his hand on her folded arms. She stared at the touch. "If you ever want to talk," he said, bringing her attention up to his profile, "I'll be here."

She believed him. After the times they'd comforted and looked after one another, even when the other wasn't expecting or wanting it, she knew he had her back. Warren was her friend; a person who knew exactly what she was going through and was willing to be there when she needed him and even when she didn't. This kind of friendship was new to both of them. They were still figuring out what was and was not ok, but they were figuring it out together. She slid one of her hands over his, squeezing his fingers in thanks. Warren's chin barely dipped in acknowledgement.

Mary shifted herself so she still had her feet curled up under her but her shoulder was pressed against his as she faced the TV. Their hands remained together, neither one moving away. Mary didn't know about Warren but she didn't realize how touch and comfort starved she was until that moment. Her thoughts traveled back to last night's conversation with the girls. She was coming to really care for Warren–more than she would for a friend–but she couldn't risk falling for him more than she was. True friendships were hard to find and even harder to keep when things got more complicated. So she leaned against his shoulder and they laughed at the actors on the TV screen.