AN: I'll admit it. It's nice to not have to do anything. Sometimes she'll even deal with the subjects. But she won't wear the nurse costume. How would you know? You're never there.God dammit! Quit complaining. It was my idea! So? You're despicable.

KittyComeHere-Oh, joy, praise. Be nice, love. Why? You can't get at them anyway. That day will come. Of course it will. It will!

Voodoo-Mutant-Child-We didn't have a cat. I tried to blame Scarecrow, but she didn't believe me. TRAITOR! You were available as a scapegoat. And you've done worse. I'm wounded.

SwordStitcher-He should know not to accept drinks or medicines from me. You should be nicer to him. But he's so gullible! Jonathan... You can't expect me to know he'll take a drink from me and not spike it! I give up.

Just-Me-and-My-Brain-They used to set up a Halloween display. It wasn't very good. It wasn't terrible. Mine are better. Of course they are, love. Besides, they plagiarized my mask. It's a burlap bag with stitches. Still.

Considering he had pneumonia, Jonathan couldn't be more comfortable. He was in his favourite squishy armchair, with a warm blanket around his shoulders and another across his lap. There was a nice, thick book within arms' reach, a box of Kleenex on top of that, and a veritable pharmacy on the table by his book.

"Comfy?"

There was also a very worried girlfriend perched on the arm of his chair, fussing with the blanket around his shoulders.

"Yes."

"D'you want anything? Orange juice, tea, anything?"

She wouldn't leave off unless he accepted something.

"Do we have any chamomile?"

"Yes."

He settled back into his chair and closed his eyes. Imbecile Batman…dragging him around in the rain…lovely.

"Here you go." So soon? Maybe he'd dozed…

"Thank you, Kitty."

"Sure." She settled onto the arm again. "You don't need anything else, do you? Soup, Nyquil, anything?"

"I'm all right. It's just a touch of pneumonia, that's all. Nothing new."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. Don't worry about me."

"If you say so…"

"Yes. Don't fuss."

He took a sip of his tea and burned his tongue. Great. It did feel nice on his throat, though.

"You really ought to go to bed, love."

"M'fine."

"You are sick, you need to be lying down…" He set the tea down and pulled her off the arm and onto his lap. "Hey!"

"M'fine."

"Really?"

"Yes."

She shook her head but settled back against his shoulder with his book in her hands.

"You're really warm."

"Mm."

Tea, tea…ah. Tea. He took another sip-oww, tongue still burned-and closed his eyes. Maybe he would go to bed…but he was comfortable. He'd finish his tea and then consider it.

At some point after his tea was (mostly) gone, he felt his glasses slide down his nose. A minute later, they were off his face altogether.

"Go to sleep, Jonathan."

Sleep? In the armchair? He was very comfortable, and warm, and drowsy from his tea…perhaps she had a good point.

"Kitty?"

"Yes?" He felt her move a little further down, so her arms were wrapped loosely round his neck. "What is it?"

He couldn't remember. Damn.

"Forgot."

"Maybe it'll come back later." She kissed him and moved a bit more before going still. "Night, love."

It didn't take him very long to fall asleep.

THE END