It was miserable, this flu business. She fluctuated between uncontrollable shivers and being so hot she kicked all the covers away. Right now, she was cold and no matter how tightly she wrapped herself in the blankets she felt as if there were ice between her shoulder blades. Her nose was so blocked up with that terrible yellow slime it was backing up into her head and threatening to push her brain out. There was a pain between her eyes where a hole was forming from the inside. That was where her brain was going to escape from.

Vala groaned and burrowed deeper into the pillows, desperate for relief. Suddenly, her stomach gurgled in the first familiar sensation this virus brought. She knew what she needed to do, but she was so tired she tried to will the spasm to stop. She wasted precious time and when she finally gave up the battle she barely had time to make it to the bathroom.

She knew from television and movies that the Tau'ri did this in the toilet. It seemed undignified, but at this point she didn't much care. Vala rushed blindly into the bathroom and imitated what she'd seen before.

Several heaves in, a light turned on behind her. She could hear soft footsteps come down the hall towards her. Without a word, Daniel came in and settled beside her, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. He reached over and gathered her hair with one hand and rubbed her back with the other.

She had no real concept of time, kneeling in front of the toilet. She felt terrible, embarrassed, and wanted to disappear. This was meant to be done in private in an urn to be buried in the forest, not with her face in the bowl meant for something even more private and disgusting than this. And then finally… it stopped.

Daniel spoke first. "How do you feel?"

"Kill me," Vala groaned.

"Maybe later." He stood and wet a washcloth.

Vala took it and wiped her face. "That's lovely."

"Do you think you've got anything else in you?"

"I couldn't possibly."

"For now," he amended for her. His usual condescending, exasperated tone was gone. Ever since he'd come to her quarters, he'd been gentle and caring. His tone soft and almost loving. "Are you ready to get back to bed?"

Vala nodded. He helped her off the floor and back into the refreshingly cool sheets. She sighed and embraced the cold air on her feverish skin.

"Do you want something to drink?"

She nodded again. Talking was too much work. He disappeared and Vala closed her eyes. It was so hot and stuffy. There was no air in this house. Why was there no air?

"I can open the windows if you're warm."

Vala opened her eyes. "Did I say that out loud?"

"You didn't say anything. You just look hot."

"Oh, darling I'm not in the mood." Vala summoned a smile as she sat up. "Some other time."

Daniel grinned and shook his head, but didn't argue. "Hot and cold." He presented a mug of tea and glass of Ginger Ale. "I wasn't sure what you wanted. Though, I'm thinking cold…" he handed her the glass.

"Is the only cure to this sickness drinking?"

Daniel shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed. "Not a cure, per say. It's just an old folk remedy. Though, there has been some research into the effectiveness of chicken soup. There may be actual medical-"

Vala put her hand on his knee to shut him up. "Not now."

He had the decency to look embarrassed. "Right, sorry."

Vala sipped at the offered drink. It did have a calming effect on her stomach.

"Can I get you anything?" Daniel asked, trying to come up with conversation.

"I don't think so."

"Do you want me to leave you alone so you can get some sleep?"

"I don't think I could sleep."

"Do you want to come out and watch TV?"

"Your bed is really comfortable." She snuggled in a little deeper.

"Sam brought your books. I can grab them for you."

"I'd love to, but I can't keep my eyes open."

"I could read to you," he offered tentatively.

Something in her chest swelled, but she was relatively confident it hadn't anything to do with the flu. "No one's ever read to me before," she said. "But I don't want to bore you…"

"I don't mind," he insisted. "Hearing you and Sam talk about it I've been toying with reading it again, anyway."

"You were reading it in the other room, weren't you?" she asked.

"You sound like Mitchell."

Vala laughed, which turned into a cough. Daniel handed her a klenex to spit into. "You were reading it," she said when she regained her breath.

"I might have started it," he admitted with that reluctant, self-aware, embarrassed grin she loved so much. "And then I felt bad for reading you book so I stopped after the raspberry cordial part."

"That's where I left off."

"We can find out what happens next together."

"Can I have some soup while you read?"

He smiled, genuinely. "I can make that happen."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Yes, I know," nodded the doctor. He looked at Anne as if he were thinking some things about her that couldn't be expressed in words. Later on, however, he expressed them to Mr. and Mrs. Barry.

"That little redheaded girl they have over at Cuthbert's is as smart as they make 'em. I tell you she saved that baby's life, for it would have been too late by the time I got there. She seems to have a skill and presence of mind perfectly wonderful in a child of her age. I never saw anything like the eyes of her when she was explaining the case to me."

Anne had gone home in the wonderful, white-frosted winter morning, heavy eyed from loss of sleep, but still talking unweariedly to Matthew as they crossed the long white field and walked under the glittering fairy arch of the Lover's Lane maples.

"You're taking care of me, like Anne took care of Minnie May," Vala said, putting her head on Daniel's shoulder. They were sitting side by side on the bed as she sipped her soup and he read.

"To be fair, in modern times the flu is far less deadly than the croup." He tilted his head, putting his cheek on her head. "Want to keep going?"

"Please."

Vala snuggled closer to his side. He shifted a bit and kept reading.

"Oh, Matthew, isn't it a wonderful morning? The world looks like something God had just imagined for His own pleasure, doesn't it? Those trees look as if I could blow them away with a breath-pouf! I'm so glad I live in a world where there are white frosts, aren't you? And I'm so glad Mrs. Hammond had three pairs of twins after all. If she hadn't I mightn't have known what to do for Minnie May. I'm real sorry I was ever cross with Mrs. Hammond for having twins. But, oh, Matthew, I'm so sleepy. I can't go to school. I just know I couldn't keep my eyes open and I'd be so stupid. But l hate to stay home, for Gil-some of the others will get head of the class, and it's so hard to get up again-although of course the harder it is the more satisfaction you have when you do get up, haven't you?"