Emmeline Garwin was a good friend, a good engineer, good student, and a good card player. She was not a good cellist, or forgiver, or boggle player, and, most importantly of all, she was not a good sick person. She did not like seeing the doctor, refused to take her medicine, or even eat, and all around preferred to spend the day lying in bed in peace and quiet (coughing, sneezing, and general bemoaning aside). The change in seasons never agreed with her either.

This time was also, unfortunately, the high season for Mad Science conventions, including The Summit (deserving in a capitalized name after a century of hosting the most brightest minds in Mad Science). And, if Emm was ever obstinate on one point, it was not allowing her father to miss them. If e failed to go there would be no one to relay all the the news and free gifts to her. Their mother was often encouraged to go as well and the Garwin's had long ago worked out a system for this time.

Emm would pretend it was only a cold long enough to see them off and would then spend the next few days alone in bed. Mr. and Mrs. Garwin would take off to the conventions (Mrs. Garwin entertained herself with the galleries of the big cities) and called home throughout the day. And, Elijah would leave Emm with water, pills she never took, and soup she never drank, and spent the week mostly over at Dan's house. He called every ten minutes without fail to check on her.

Dan and Elijah liked to refer to their special week as boy time. Really, despite the lack of females, boy time was just the same as any other time. They watched sci-fi, fantasy adventure, and action movies all day. And British romantic comedies. Neither of them was ashamed to admit that they always made time for Love Actually. Nonetheless they cherished boy time and always had entertaining stories for a few days.

It was a system that worked for everyone.

The bus drivers' habit of getting to school early and thus giving everyone time to talk still irked Warren occasionally. He'd long since had a group of friends to accompany him but for a long time he'd either been alone or fighting with Garwin. He'd grown used to just going to class.

He was usually sitting on the ledge reading when the others arrived. Garwin's group arrived just moments after his own, with a distinct lack of Garwin herself.

Zack was the first to comment on it. "Hey, where's Emm?" Warren had known them both long enough now to see that their shared loved for blindingly bright colors had endeared them to one another in some strange bond he neither understood nor cared to.

He also knew, very well, why she was out. "She's sick." He received curious looks all around. "Really? You think after four years of putting up with her I wouldn't realize I get a break from her this time every year?"

They all conceded his point and he chose to ignore the looks Layla and Will were giving him. Warren was tired of their pointed looks and attempts at meaningful chats.

"Damnit, Stronghold, we are not having a talk about Garwin."

"Right, because you don't think there's anything to talk about. Right?"

"Exactly."

"Dude, Layla read you like a book. Don't you think I know you well enough by now to be able to tell when you're just being a stubborn moron?"

"Apparently not."

"Warren, just admit it. You like her. And not just in a I-don't-think-I'll-set-her-on-fire way, but a man-I'd-sure-like-to-kiss-her way. Hey! Mom's going to be really pissed if my curtains catch fire again!"

"Stronghold, it's Garwin."

"So?"

"It's Emmeline Jillian Garwin. What in the world would make you think I liked her?"

"Her middle name is Jillian?"

Warren tuned back in half way through Maggie's explanation of the system. He only vaguely realized he'd been glaring at Will the whole time.

"Wait, so you leave Garwin alone sick for a week or so? That doesn't sound like the Garwin's." Warren may have only met the whole family once, but it was easy to see how the functioned.

"They try to fight it, but then Emm makes many a speech on how she will simply perish without the latest Maximillion Kessler news or trinket." Maggie shrugged. "And, she really just does not like having people around."

"Besides," interjected Patterson, "Nurse Spex always calls her and it's much safer to stay away. She once threw a screwdriver at my head for trying to mix her medicine in with coke." That sounded like Garwin.

The bell rang then and interrupted their talk on the workings of the Garwin household. Warren meant to make it up and the stairs and to his classroom quickly, thus avoiding Patterson, Ayers, and, most importantly, Will. Patterson and Ayers were the only ones who had class with him, but it was Will whom he'd been steadfastly avoiding.

He seemed to have forgotten that Will could fly.

"Warren, wait up."

"I'm walking fast on purpose, Stronghold."

"Ah, see, I knew you were mad at me. You always call me Stronghold when you're mad." Will wagged his finger at him. "Come on, man, why won't you just admit it?"

"Because there's nothing to admit." Usually the stubborn insistence on accepting something emotional came from Layla, but this time around Will seemed to have taken a stake in it as well. Warren wanted to jump off the side of the school, but then Will would have just caught him.

"But-"

Warren slammed the Mad Science door in his face and hoped that was the end of it. At least until lunch.

He didn't really want to be there. He would have rather been at home, watching whatever old B movie was playing. It was his mother's fault; no one could guilt like she could. That was the only reason he was standing outside Garwin's door waiting for someone to answer.

Warren thought back to all the ways he could have avoided this. He could have not gone home, for one. Or maybe not spoken to his mother. Or, better yet, when his mother asked about Garwin, which had become an every day thing, he could have forgotten to mention that she was out sick. So many ways he could have gotten out of it.

There was a noise from inside the house and the door swung open. Garwin looked awful. Her hair had once been in a braid over her shoulder, but too many hairs had escaped at this point to call it that. Her nose was red, her cheeks were rosy, and there was a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead. She was dressed in what he assumed were her pajamas; yellow striped pants and a bulky gray sweatshirt, and appeared to have dragged her comforter along with her.

She took one look at him and slammed the door.

Warren rolled his eyes and made to call her an idiot when she sneezed and phased clear through the door. He laughed a little. More than a little. He was still laughing as he helped her up and into the house. She was not amused.

He shouldn't have been surprised; being sick made even normal powers act up. It had to have been worse for Garwin who had shaky control at best.

She glared at him. "Shut up. This is your fault. I can't phase through my bed." Her voice was just as bad as the rest of her.

"Come on, Garwin, let's get you into you special bed."

She glared at him the whole way up, but it lost its effect when she had to constantly sniffle. It was humorous more than anything.

Her room looked like always, except for the bowl of untouched soup, box of tissues, and bottles of waters on her bookshelf. She dropped onto the bed with a thump.

Unable to help himself he began to tidy up the discarded water bottles and take her medicine out of the trash. Expecting some snide remark he looked back at her, only to find her curled up, almost fully covered, face down on the bed.

She said something that might have resembled "just let me die" but was otherwise too muffled to be understood. She turned her head out slightly to breathe. "And stop cleaning my room. I know you are." He smirked.

"Come on, Garwin, roll over." She shook her head and pulled the covers over her head. "Listen, I don't want to be here. Blame mom." She didn't move.

With an almost growled sigh Warren moved to the bed and rolled her over. Garwin continued to glare. "And take these covers off." He tugged on the edge of the yellow comforter and was surprised at the strength with which she kept it in place.

"I'm freezing!"

Warren's temperature had never been normal and judging others had always been difficult, but, no matter what he said, Garwin had always had a fairly standard temperature and even he could tell she was too warm now.

"You have a fever. You shouldn't be swathed."

"But, I'll freeze to death!"

"No, you won't. Let go."

"No. Go away!"

"Let go of the damn covers."

"Go away. Stop trying to kill me."

With one final tug her ripped the comforter from her hands and tossed it to the other side of the room.

"You're going to want to pick that up soon enough."

He ignored her and sat on the bed before reaching for the bag he'd brought with him and the unused spoon on her bookshelf. When he turned back to her she'd nearly completely curled herself around him.

"You're like a radiator." She mumbled. If she hadn't been so busy burrowing her face into her sheets she might have noticed the hints of an exasperated smile.

He opened the styrofoam container and set it down again to both give it time to cool and force her to sit. They had not been lying; she was a difficult patient. Then again, Garwin was a difficult everything.

Surprisingly, she sat up with only the slightest coaxing and turned her glare to the styrofoam bowl. "I'm not hungry."

"I don't care. You're going to drink it."

"She pursed her lips. "Quit being a child." She pursed them even tighter.

Warren ground his teeth. "Garwin, open your damn mouth." Nothing. "What are you, four?"

The pursed lips melted into a frown. "If I eat I'll just get sick every where."

"No, you won't. You'll feel better, trust me."

She took a deep sigh and gave him a look. "You know, you are spending an inordinate amount of time at my house." Words like "inordinate" couldn't help but be amusing when spoken around sniffles and a stuffy nose. Nonetheless he ignored her and took the opportunity to shove the first spoonful in her mouth.

Her eyes grew wide and she swallowed hard. There was a moment of silence. "It's hot! Oh my god. Too hot. Too hot."

He should have warned her, yes, but then she wouldn't have eaten it.

"I'm going to kill you." Her eyes were watering and she'd turned a little redder, but he'd bet anything that her sinuses had cleared. She'd feel better soon enough.

He moved the nearest bottle of water out of her reach and ignored her indignant yelp. "Water will make it worse. Here." He held the crab rangoon in front of her for only a second before she shoved it in her mouth. "The cream cheese will help."

"I hate you. I hate you. I hate you."

"Can you breathe?"

"...I still hate you."

"Just drink your soup."

There was a brief look of frustration before she drank another spoonful of the soup. Each time she reacted in the same over dramatic fashion. Either she'd always been predictable, or he'd been spending too much time with her.

When the soup was done and she'd eaten the last crab rangoon she grudgingly thanked him. "I'm warmer now, at least."

Warren checked her over again. Her face was still flushed and sweaty, but now he wasn't sure if it was due to the fever or the soup. "Take off the hoodie, Garwin."

Sick or not she managed a scandalized look just fine. "Oh, how I wish my daddy was here to hear that."

He stood to throw the empty containers in her trash and ignored her, as he'd done most every time she'd spoken. When he sat back done he looked her square in the eye. "Off. You can't sweat a fever out, it's not good for you."

They stared each other down for a minute. Finally, apparently too exhausted from being sick to actually fight him for long, she leaned forward and stretched out her arms. He knew exactly what that meant without her needing to say anything and look a moment to give out a world weary sigh before pulling the hoodie off of her and folding it neatly on the corner of her bed.

"It's so cold!" He ignored her again.

An hour later Warren was reorganizing each of her books. After all the grief she'd caused him he figured moving things around would be just enough pay back. No matter what she said about him being OCD, he knew she'd be easily annoyed by any modifications he made to her room.

It gave him something to do while she slept too.

In no time he'd rearranged every tool in her room and her scientific journals. When she was well enough to notice, she'd be furious. Her fever had broken sometime during the past hour and he no longer felt morally obligated by his mother to be nice.

She rolled over and kicked off the covers. She'd done this six times already. With another sigh Warren left the bookcase and pulled the covers back up. Even asleep, she was impossible.

Still, Warren thought, maybe Will was right.