sick days

[merryeccentricities]

Joly wakes himself up sneezing. He's momentarily confused to find he's still on the couch, and almost fully dressed-- why wouldn't he be in bed in his own room?

Oh, yes. Because Lesgle's in the bed, and doesn't think he's Lesgle. Well. If that doesn't resolve soon,they'll probably both need to go to the infirmary. Right now...Joly tries to think. It's more complicated than it should be. Right now...there should be tissues here. He'll need to send off for more.


...Or sneeze all over his hands, that's apparently the immediate plan. All right, right now he's going to wash up. And then send for tissues.

Comments

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

Lesgle is even more confused than Joly when he wakes up. On the one hand, he feels hung over. On the other hand, he's sure he wasn't drinking last night, at least no more than ordinary. On the other other hand, synthehol shouldn't leave a headache no matter how much he'd had. On the other other other hand, what the hell is synthehol and why did he just ask the computer what time it is?

...It's not a hangover, anyway. A little more time with the headache and the stuffy nose and the cough and the misery refreshes his memory of yesterday's godawful cold. He sits up and pulls the blankets around himself and stares in lingering confusion at the ceiling and walls. There's a pile of gadgetry on the table. An insistent voice in his head is telling him to get back to work on contacting the Enterprise, but it's not a useful enough voice to tell him how or why.