Imogen suddenly tensed and the brunette flinched worried she'd hurt her somehow. Normally such attention from Constance was rare and so cherished and relished. but now rather than preening Imogen winced and squirmed-

"You're uncomfortable." Constance said stating the obvious and felt her lovers fore head.

"I'm fine." Imogen lied and was subseently glared at. "Alright, maybe a bit." she muttered, stretching out her legs so they hung sideways off the bed. Constance failed to see how that made it any better. "it's not you, love I'm just- just sore. Could never be cause of you."

"Be because of. Even when dying from influwena you're still a grammatically incorrect romantic."

Imogen rolled over (well her top half anyway) and dropped herself about the witches hips with a groan. "Can't you just kiss it better now?" she mumbled into the dress.

"Metoricafolly or do you mean magic everything better? Well I could but that'd mean not only you moving from your oh so apperntly compy spot but also you passing on the virus and then there's repocussion of the foster effect. Not to mention explaining to everyone why you get special treatment. And then I'll get sick as well so I sharn't." Imogen's sudden disbelieving look was met with an arched eyebrow. "Sorry. You can kiss me when you're better so the sooner you recover the sooner I'll kiss you. How's that for an insentive?"

"Awful." Imogen replied agast, "Not even one...? Not even if I add that I always like the apron looks. Did you wear it especially for me?"

Constance jerked, much to a snickering Imogen's amusement and twisted around to swat away the non witches wandering hand.

"Off! I'm not kissing you and making it all better! If I kiss you it'll be all well and good for two minates-"

"only two?"

"Until suddenly I come down with this godforsaken virus, what if I get sick from kissing you?"

"If you do we could share a sick bed that's what couples do." Imogen flipping back to her previous postion. "My god, if you're so sure that you're not going to get sick being here and helping around the castle-!"

"I'm not kissing you."

"Oh for fu-aachtiso! Ugh-Sake."

"Bless you. And I'm defiantly not kissing you now."

Imogen gave her another sniffle scowl over the top of the tissue and then changed her tune. "Actually, I take it back. Your right No kisses no making magic- please don't get sick."

"If you're trying to use reverse psychology, that isn't going to work."

"No, just don't want you catch this flu bug. You wouldn't like it."

"Really? You do surprise me."

"I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Not even Mr Shallow Hallow or Heliboring."

"They'd be even more irratining then useal." the witch mused and turned back with something akin to a fond smirk. "you're the only woman I know who'll use nicknames as curses and viseversa."

"Shut up Hotstuff." Imogen grumbled in to the duvet "Ooh my head. I'm sick of being sick! It isn't fair, I eat healthily, I exercise, I wrap up warm, I even take extra vitiams-"

"I know, sweet, I know." Constance sighed deciding not to point out Imogen's early Karma remarks. She could save that for when Imogen was less bedridden.

"I want to go for a run but my legs feel like lead! I want to go back to work-!" Imogen complained as she sat up, only to flop back the other way face first in to the pillows. "Scratch that," she continued if somewhat muffled. "I just want to sleep and be able to use my head again."

"Again? I wasn't aware you were using it at all." a pillow would have hit Constance square in the face had she not vanished, reappearing in the chair. "Missed. Dear me, your marksmenship certaintly been handicapped. do you also want a drink or another blanket added to you list of demands along with skipping though the woods-?"

"Oh shut up or go away Constance I'm not in the mood!" Imogen snapped burying her head in bedding again preceeding to sulk all of thirty seconds.

"…Silent treatments not going to work either HB."

"…Alright I'm sorry okay? I shouldn't have snapped…"

"…Don't you start sulking too or we're stuck.."

"...Look Constance I-" But Miss Hardbroom was not there. "-I didn't mean it… HoneyBear? Constance?"

She wasn't even invisibly not there. She was officially not there. And Imogen was left sat curled up in bed, cursing and cold, feeling very sick and retchard indeed...