-3-

It had taken a lot to keep Andy home. He had argued that today was his last day of work, and that even though yesterday he may have been a bit of a dolt, today he would be fine. He'd said that he wouldn't even stay very long, and that he would be very careful on the roads, and that the ice covering them couldn't be all that bad, could they?

But Chucky had belligerently told him no, and had promptly called Andy's boss to tell her that unless she didn't stop him herself, Andy would burn the whole building down with the state he was in.

"Sounds like the two of you have been given the gift of maladies," she'd teased, and the doll, bless his heart, had offered a small laugh in return.

"Well, it's settled," he told Andy rather proudly. "Your boss is actually not so much of a bitch. Remind me to tell her that next time I see her."

Andy rolled over in the bed and made himself comfortable on the pillow. "I really could have gone, Chucky," he started, but Chucky turned a very deadly stare in his direction and silenced him with a rough, "Shut up, will you? You're fucking staying."

Had the doll's voice not still been hoarse from his lingering sickness, he would have appeared more threatening. Unfortunately he had no such luck, and instead, his voice had Andy somewhat giggling into the pillow he'd been clinging to.

"I-I'm sorry," he choked out, as Chucky retaliated by proceeding to hit him with one of the other pillows nearby. "You just sounded… so… cute."

"Oh, do I now?" Chucky growled, wincing at how his voice cracked. "You should hear yourself. You sound like a damn baby weevil."

Andy just conjured a sort of face at him and pulled the doll against him. "Whatever," he mumbled into Chucky's back, making him shiver uncomfortably at the way the young man's voice tickled down his spine. He struggled a bit in his grip, holding back and embarrassing giggle. "What do you think you're doing?" he questioned, though it wasn't all very aggressive, really.

The ex-army man shrugged, eyes closed. "You're the one who always wants me to stay in bed, and now you want to know what I'm doing?" he asked simply.

Chucky didn't have much of a response for that, and contented himself with keeping close to Andy. The man's body was unusually warm- but that was to be expected from the sickness. He supposed he was probably sporting a higher temperature himself. Andy's heartbeat was slowly pounding away.

"When we get up, I think I'll…"

"Shut up. No," Chucky interrupted. "Don't ruin the peace and quiet with your raucous voice." He squirmed about to face Andy and held his face. "Don't you realize something here?"

At the young man's confusion, he continued. "Nothing's happening. Absolutely nothing. It's just you and me here, doing nothing." He tried to continue, but the words he wanted weren't coming, and heaven and hell forbid that he say anything that included the phrases quality time with you, intimate moment, or enjoy each other's company.

Over his dead body.

In irony, technically his body is dead, but I am getting off topic, aren't I?

Chucky rested his forehead against Andy's, feeling their feverish heat combining. "Let's just fucking keep it that way, alright?"

Andy nodded. He breathed in deeply, and for the next moment or so, there was endless quiet.

It was a quarter past noon by the time either of them left to start the day. Karen had called the house asking if she and Mike could visit the next day. She had gone out and bought presents for the both of them- but of course, like all mothers, she wanted to come around and see her "two favorite boys."

"Chucky, stop," Andy held the mouthpiece on the phone to kick at the doll, who had entertained himself by tugging on Andy's socks.

They were cuddled together on the couch. A thick blanket concealed the fact that their legs were intertwined. They hadn't been doing much; they'd only just eaten, and Andy had settled down when his mother had phoned.

Chucky just stuck out his tongue at him before rather mischievously continuing to tickle at the young man's feet.

"Yes, Mother, I'm…" Andy covered his mouth with a hand to try and hold in his laughter. "No, I promise, I'm listening!" He pulled his legs back quickly and mouthed the word stop to the doll. "That's fine, that's… sorry, Mom, hang on." He picked up one of the couch's pillows and threw it at Chucky.

"What? No, Mom," Andy flushed deeply. "How could you say that?" He kicked gently at Chucky to try and keep him away. "Yes, yes, ok. . Oh- love you too- yes. Bye."

The moment he hung up the phone, he tossed it aside with an almost malicious smirk on his face. "You," he growled predatorily at the doll, who gulped and help up his hands in surrender. "Now, Andy," he reasoned slowly. "Let's not get so vengeful." He backed away slowly, but it was all for naught, as Andy had already made his decision and pounced on him, tickling the doll mercilessly.