(Untitled)

[out_of_realm]

On the couch in the common room, Tom was sprawled out in sweatpants and a wife beater, blankets pooled around his hips and an old buddy cop movie flickering on the projector screen. He wasn't used to this, being so god awful sick. Once in the last five years, maybe, and that had been when the flu had hit him in the middle of snow storm out in the

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[m_pinocchio]

"All right," Mike says, sitting down on Tom's feet and plucking the pillow off his head. "Drink this." He holds out a steaming mug of tea. "I'm not even sure what it is, but Eostre used fucking inhale it when she was sick." It smells okay, anyway. Pretty good, actually.

He glances up at the man with the cards, recognizing a face that he will always associate with dildos, and manages to suppress a smirk. "Isn't that your shirt?"

[out_of_realm]

"What is it?" Tom said, sounding stuffy and stubborn, forcing himself up in the couch. "It smells weird," he added as he took the mug, which was absolutly ridiculous since it had been days since he'd smelled anything.

"I don't want to talk about it," he murmured, glaring over at the man who was still shuffling the cards. "He cheats, I know it. By the way, you're gonna have to walk his dogs for a week." He tasted the tea carefully and was disappointed to find that it mostly tasted like hot water with how stuffed up he was.

"Just so you know."

[m_pinocchio]

"It's tea, moron," he says, leaning back on the couch and passing a hand over his face. He hasn't shaved yet today and he's feeling scruffy. It's not entirely a bad feeling.

He glances back at Tom, then, a little sharply. "Wait, what?" From Tom to the man shuffling the cards with an immensely pleased expression. He looks very comfortable in Tom's sweatshirt. "What dogs? What did you fucking do?"

[out_of_realm]

"I was bored," Tom complained, giving Mike a pathetic look over the rim of his mug. "The shelf's been giving me old playboys and cop movies all day long. So I played a few hands of cards."

He coughed, clearing his throat, and added, quietly, somethign that sounded very much like "....wolf dogs...."

"Sorry," he added hopefully, looking over at Mike.

[little_moons]

It's been going on a week now, and no matter how much he tries to shrug it off, I know he's gotta feel like total shit. Can't fuckin' believe it. A goddamn winter cold in the middle of a fuckin' tropical island. Former tropical island. It'd be sorta funny if I wasn't worried for the guy. No matter how much I don't wanna be, I can't really help it.

Giving the other guy a glance, I sit down on the tiny bit of empty couch in front of Tom's hips, lifting a corner of the pillow and peeking up under it. "Hey there, sunshine."

[out_of_realm]

"Hey there, nurse McCormick," Tom said, managing a grin in spite of himself. He let his hand fall on Neil's side, just brushing.

"How's it going?"

[little_moons]

"Nurse McCormick? Don't I need a little uniform for that?" I say, reaching up to lay a hand on his cheek, and damn right I'm checking for fever. Warm, sure, but he's been worse.

"I'm okay. What the hell are you watchin'?"

[out_of_realm]

Tom skin was warm and sticky to the touch, but Neil's finger felt amazing smooth and cool.

"I dunno about that," Tom said, grinning a little. "Maybe back at your place. You walk around in white fishnets here, people might get the wrong idea."

"I have no idea," he admitted, wriggling around on the couch to make more room. "There's lots of explosions and bad language. But it was either this or the Playboys the shelf gave me, and this is less effort."

[rebellious_lady]

"You should be resting somewhere more comfortable than this," she says as she stands over Tom, a tray in her hands. It had been impossible to not notice he was ill, going to fetch soup and tea both before coming back to harass him into eating at least some of it. "If you do insist on making us all ill as well, you could at least sit and eat."

[out_of_realm]

"I am comfortable," Tom protested, shuffling around until he was sitting up properly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "I've been banished from Mike's and I can only stare at Neil's ceiling for so long." His voice sounded hoarse and raw.

"What's all this?" he said, peering at the tray. "Oh, come on, Marion, you didn't have to do all of this."

[rebellious_lady]

"Yes, I did," she sets the tray on a small table before him, taking a seat on the other side to not get too close. "I can understand Mike not wanting the girls to be ill, but you need to eat, or you will not get better."

She can out-stubborn most men, a skill that she has learned from dealings with her father and Robin both. "Do not worry. I have not cooked any of it, but only taken what was on offer."

[out_of_realm]

"Thank you," Tom said graciously, knowing it was better to agree than argue, especially in his current state. "You're way to good to me, you know," he said, taking the tray onto his lap.

Settling back he snagged a look at her belly, her bump. "How's everything going?" he asked pointedly, "Know if it's a boy or a girl?"

[self_named]

"Nice sweater," Duo commented, peeling off some of his own layers, which were numerous, Zwerg in toe, to go and kick back across from Moist.

"Who'd you swindle it off of?"

[forged_hero]

Moist barely looked up, dealing a fresh hand of cards.

"Oh, dear husband, I procured it for you," Moist protested, watching Duo drop layers like certain dancers employed down in the Shades for their fortitude against the elements and the ability to pull of a Watch uniform made entirely of lace. "You're still able to bend under all of that. I wouldn't want you walking around not prepared for the elements."

He tossed Duo a reckless grin, shuffling without even glancing at his hands. "The young soldier in the corner," he said without moving his mouth, "He's harmless. Trust me."

[self_named]

"Moist," Duo said disapprovingly, casting a sympathetic look over at the guy before looking back to the person who had dibs on half his shit.

[forged_hero]

"Oh, come on, I got you out of dog walking the pack for next week," Moist said, sounding put out. It was kind of sad, actually, what he'd always been a little bit afraid of. Do it long enough, and eventually you end up conning old women out of the crusts they toss to the birds. Conning a doe eyed soldier for a ratty sweatshirt was only the first step.

"You want in?" he forged forward, hoping to distract Duo and himself. "Old Man Onion? I know almost all your tells..."