Tails began his journey from the bath to the bed as an exceedingly wet fox, and with all the vigorous rubbing he did during his slow walk with a towel that just might have been the only object in the building softer than him, he finished it a very dry fox.

"Tails," he murmured dreamily the second his head hit the cushion, "if I ever get my own body back, I want to grow fur just like yours."

"I... don't know if that would be medically feasible," he considered, opening his eyes a smidge to consider the scientific dilemma out loud and rub his chin with one hand for good measure. "But that's nothing to worry about – you'll always have something warm and fuzzy you can rub as long as you like!"

"Why, that's right!" he gasped. "Mr. Muddy, I- I don't know what I would do without you!"

With that, he withdrew from behind another pillow a plush pig, which he cuddled lovingly.

"Uh... yeah, him too! I forgot I'd left that dumb old toy in here, ahehe! Well, I don't care; I'm way too old for those things anyway." Tossing Mr. Muddy off the bed, he rolled onto his other side to keep his eyes firmly away from the temptation.

"Heehee, whatever you say, Tails." He blushed. "So... does that mean you're ready to... erm, 'hit the sack'?"

"I sure am!" he breathed. "Sweet dreams, Cosmo! May they contain, uh, lots of soft soil and water! Yours too, Tails! May they contain lots of soft soil for burrowing and water for drinking! ...Those are fox activities, right? ...Erm, that didn't come out right."

"I liked it. Nighty-night!"

Shutting his eyes for real, he yawned loudly and scratched at a tenaciously itchy spot on his chest. Satisfied, he rolled over a couple of times and breathed comfortably out again. He was descending into dreamland, each spirit feeling as much at home as it possibly could within his body. He was at complete peace.

"Yaaaaaaahhhhh!"

"...H-huh? What? What's going on?"

Rubbing away the strangely elusive drops of sleep from his eyes, he looked idly down at his chest: he could tell audibly that his heart was pounding like mad, and the sheets were monsooned in sweat. "Cosmo, what's going on?"

"...Oh. I-it was a dream. ...Tails, did I wake you up?"

"No, but it sounds like some terrifying monster did or something..."

"I'm so sorry!" he fretted. Giving himself a punch in the face as punishment, he reeled back at the realization of what he'd done. "Ohhh, you felt that too! I'm sorry again! Th-that was just supposed to be for-"

His hand went over his mouth, as did a mental command to stop talking for a second until he could calm down. "That's better. No, Cosmo, I'm not mad, but what happened?"

"W-well..."

"Wow, haha, I guess that does sound pretty scary! But it's okay," he assured, patting his stomach for comfort, "none of those terrible things are real, from the giant lawnmower and the fidgety lumberjack to the mutant rabbits and the incontinent old dogs!"

"...You're right, I'm just being silly. Will you be able to get back to sleep alright, Tails?"

"I'm sure I will," he yawned, laying his head gently back down on the pillow. "Nighty-night, Cosmo," he said with a tired smile, "and here's hoping your sleep is only interrupted by one dumb old nightmare tonight!"

"I guess six bad dreams isn't THAT many," Tails grumbled, lolling on his way to the kitchen. "That's evidence of a healthy, alert brain great at responding to threats!"

"Heehee, I'm glad you're okay with my... sometimes unusual sleep patterns." He patted himself on the back.

"Uh... yeah..."

"That's good – now, how would you feel about getting breakfast?"

"Well... we've come to the right place, haven't we?" He closed his eyes, wishing wistfully that he could have just a few more minutes – or days, if life were that generous – of sleep, and was only awoken from his instant-made reverie by his foot jutting out to stop his fall.

"Please be careful, Tails! I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself. Now... do you have any ideas of what to eat?" A loud noise from his stomach affirmed the need.

"Hey!" He brightened up at an idea. "What if we said our ideas at the same time? ...Er, I mean, one right after the other? Maybe we'll even have the same idea, and that'll be super-convenient, or if not, we can just pick one or the other!"

"Sure! Okay, are you ready, Tails!"

Rumble, rumble. "As ever! On the count of three, okay? One..."

"Two..."

"Three! Hashbrowns-toastwithjelly!"

He stared blankly into space.

"I- I mean," he mumbled, "sweet stuff isn't my favorite, but..."

"Neither are greasy things mine... oh, who cares. We can do that!"

But he would have to wait no longer for his solution, which arrived in the form of a familiar pink hedgehog.

"Hello, you two!" said Amy. "I couldn't help but overhear your little quandary here, and I think it'd be good to mention that I have been working lately on my cooking skills."

"Oh, hi, Amy!" said Tails, glad at the opportunity to postpone the anxiety. "Hello! So, it seems that you have an idea that you think we'll like – or at least Tails will, hopefully?"

"No, you lovebirds are going to have a dish that will satisfy you both. Those hours slaving away in here working to entice my lovebird with the perfect chili dog will not go to waste, nor will my natural creativity! Besides, of course I know you and I know what you like."

The gurgling of Tails' stomach came anew with excitement. "If you put it like that, I think that sounds delicious! Thank you so much!"

"Great!" Amy cheered. "Now I hope you won't mind vacating the kitchen for half an hour or so – the chef needs privacy to work her magic."

With Amy's dish placed before him, Tails stared down at it.

"I guess... that's exactly what she said we were going to get!" he laughed. "Equally satisfying to both of us, and really creative! Uh... what do you think, Cosmo?"

"Um..." He grimaced at a small, murky pool adorning the plate. "I don't like the look of that potato grease being so close to the crust..."

"Oh, I'm sure it won't get on it. B-but... everything's on everything!"

"Heehee, are you telling me that after all those astounding adventures we had out in outer space... you're afraid to try a bite of hashbrowns on toast with jelly?"

He sniffed it, reeling from the strange odor.

"Maybe a little."

Still, he managed to twist his fingers into a working fist around his fork and scoop up a small corner of toast, dripping with salty and sweet goodness all over. "It'll make Amy happy if we at least just eat a little of it, Cosmo," he explained. "Pleeeeease?"

"Okayyyyy, but I have a bad feeling about it..."

In agreement, he swallowed the bite of food. It seemed inoffensive, so he took a few more bites, dabbing his mouth with a handy paper towel and sighing rather satisfiedly.

"What do you think?" he chirped eagerly.

His pose to deliver the response would be a standing one, and his mask of victory would be a scowl of revulsion. "I think I hope the toilet's working..."

Scooting off to the nearest bathroom and allowing his stomach to become empty once more, all he could hear over the wretched noise was Amy's voice, optimistic as ever: "Do you have a stomach flu? Too bad you never even got to try my extravaganza, but I'll whip you up something in a second to make it better!"

When he could finally catch his breath and bear the taste of bile, he managed to squeeze a few words out, though too quiet of words for the hedgehog to hear. "Tails, I'm not sure being together like this is as perfect as we'd hoped."

"What, a little sickness is enough to scare you off?" he chided. "Wow, you're pretty easily discouraged, haha."

"Tails? Cosmo?" Amy called, again audible. "I had to improvise 'cause we don't have a lot of ingredients, but what flavor of tea would you prefer: maple syrup, tomato, or saltine?"

"...You're right. I wanna go back to us being just us."