Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss owns them- he's the one who puts them through hell each week.
Rating: G? PG? Nothing major.
Summary: Response to Cass's challenge.
Authors Notes: This isn't read over by anyone at all, because I'm writing this quickly to get to Cass. It won't be *too* long, and I hope to get it done by Monday, because I'm going away on Tuesday and won't be back till Sunday. I should be able to get it done by then :)
More Notes!: For Cass, for issuing the challenge. Get Well Soon!! @-}-}-
Must Haves:
~All of Sunnydale is quarantine because of a mass cold infection
~The gang are all in Angel's mansion, sharing their misery of sickness.
~Angel never left.
~Couples: B/A, W/S, X/A, AND C/D
~One of the gang must be talking stuffy
~A whole bunch of cuteness!
~Someone acting hyper because of bing sick (I do this right before I feel like crap)
~Everyone in PJs
Can have, but is definately encouraged:
~Smut, a whole lot of it (especially B/A) (can't write smut. Also, can't read it...sorry)
~Hot Chocolate
~A Bubblebath
~A tutu
~Someone singing New Kids on the Block (Couldn't resist. We were singign today in History)
~Oreos
~People playing baseball

"ACHOO!" The sound rang out through Sunnydale. Everyone was down with the flu, or cold, or something equally as annoying and bad.

Buffy groaned and opened her eyes. "Will? Can you run down to the chemist and get me something to stop me feeling like I'm about to die?"

The wicca rolled over, pulling her pajama shirt tighter around her, in a vain attempt to keep warm. "Uh...I would, Buffy, but I can't walk around. It makes me all dizzy and ugh."

Buffy sneezed again. "Uh oh."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Angel rolled out of bed and pulled a robe around him. He sniffed and walked into the main hall, feeling like he was standing in the sunlight in the middle of an inferno. Not good for a vampire.

The knocking persisted. He growled menacingly to himself. "Great. What a time for visitors."

He opened the door to find Buffy and Willow, still dressed in their pajamas, clutching boxes of tissues, videos, cold & flu medication and blankets.

"Hey Angel." Buffy said, pushing past him. Willow attempted to smile, but coughed instead.

"Uh, guys, are you-"

"Sick?" Buffy asked, flopping on his couch and curling up into a ball. "Yes. Make me well."

Willow collapsed beside her, sniffling.

Angel sighed. "I hate to tell you, but I'm sick too."

Buffy looked up at him, "But Angel, vampires don't get sick."

He shrugged. "I guess this ones extra strong."

"Great," Willow mumbled from the floor. "This gets everyone sick, we only have really crappy daytime tv and -"

"Hey!" Spike called as he walked in from the mansions sewer access. "You're calling Passions crappy daytime televisions? You know you're hooked, Red."

"Spike." Angel snarled as his childe sat down beside Willow and pulled the blanket away.

"Share with Spikey," he said, his voice all stuffed up. Willow smacked his arm.

"No. You aren't really sick, Spike, you just want in." he gave her a puppy-dog look and fell back in a coughing fit.

"I...wasn't. But I am now!" he looked around the room angrily. "Who did this? I don't get sick!"

Buffy laughed feebly. "What? The mighty William The Bloody doesn't catch a cold?

Spike vamped out and went to bite her, which made Buffy laugh harder, which turned into a sneeze. Angel sat beside her and rubbed her back.

"Have you taken something?" he sniffed out.

She shook her head. "Couldn't. Chemists closed." she closed her eyes and pulled him down beside her. "Make me well, Angel." she moaned again. Angel kissed her neck.

"I can't, beloved. I'm too sick." he closed his eyes, trying to block everything out a fall asleep. Spike was fighting with Willow, who sounded like she was a little kid being told to go to bed- whiney. Spike wanted to watch Passions, and Willow wanted to watch either the New Kids On The Block concert or basketball. Anything but Passions.

Buffy sighed. "Guys. Shut up! I want to sleep, and I don't want to listen to people doing soapy things, singing old songs, or bouncing a stupid ball."

Angel put his hand on her forehead. "You've got a fever, Baby."

She turned and glowered at him. "No kidding, Angel. I'm SICK!" she was about to launch into another campaign to get him to go out and get medication, but the doorbell rang again.

Angel moved to get up, but Buffy held him down. "No. You might be warmer then usual, but you're still cooling me down." she turned to the other visitors. "Spike, get the door."

Spike gave her a look, and added in a sneeze, but her expression didn't change. "Bloody 'ell, Slayer! You're meant to be the strong one."

Buffy didn't back down. "Door, Spike. Now."

The bleach-blond vamp walked slowly to the door and jerked it open, hiding from the sun.

"Aaah!"

"What the?"

Xander and Anya walked through the doorway, Anya was leaning heavily on Xander, just so he'd do something. She was bored and didn't like being sick at all. The only thing that made it better was being sick with Xander and being able to lie around with him all day.

Buffy heaved herself into a sitting position. "Xander! Why're you here?" she mumbled, reaching out to turn off the TV, much to Spikes annoyance.

"Oi! Its telly time!" he protested, running over to get the remote, but stopping halfway to sneeze. When he reached Buffy, she was smiling smugly and holding the remote beneath her.

"Just you try, Spike." she said, before turning to look at the newest arrivals to the Mansion Hospital.

One thing made her forget the stuffiness in her head and the running of her nose: the fact that in his hand, Xander clutched a very, very precious box. More valuable then any warm blanket and hot cocoa. An extra large packet of tablets. Tablets to make the sniffling, sorethroat and stuffy head go away. Cold and Flu Tablets. Extra strength.

Buffy scrambled over the couch, but got dizzy and ended up falling on the ground, clutching the box to her chest.

She lay there, lifeless for a second until Xander reached down to grab them. "Hey! I got these from you fairly!" Buffy cried.

"Nu uh!" Xander said, grabbing them and leaping back. "I paid for these! These babies are my ticket to healthiness!" he said, jumping over the couch and landing on Angels legs.

"Ow." Angel grunted, opening his eyes. He saw Xander looking very perky on the couch, where his legs had once been, Buffy looking very ill and pulling the box from Xanders hands, and Anya almost keeling over.

"Xander....please?" Buffy whined. Spike stood up and threw down the remote.

"Just give her some bloody tablets! Shut the whining thing up. I can't hear Passions." he looked at where Angel was trying not to vamp out in anger. "I'm watching it in your room, Peaches."

Fifteen minutes, much sneezing, and 10 pills later (Xander had decided that he wasn't getting sick, seeing as he had so much energy, so he'd skipped his round), everyone except Spike was lying somewhere in the room covered in their blankets.

Buffy was tossing and turning in her sleep, stopping Angel from dozing off. He was having serious thoughts about either going into his room and putting up with Spike and 'Passions' to get some sleep, or moving Buffy up there seeing as Spike was living 'bitey-free'.

He was interrupted by the doorbell buzzing. In seconds, everyone was awake again and talking, sniffing and coughing.

Angel threw open the door grumpily, ready to snap. "Angel! Good, you're here! Doyle and I are sick and-" Cordy stopped, pushing past.

Doyle shrugged and followed. Angel looked bewildered. "Uh, you having a party, man?"

Angel shook his head. "Everyone's sick, and they decided this was the best place to be sick in."

Cordelia opened her bag. "Well, I for one won't sit around being miserable while I'm sick." she produced a packet of Oreo', a bottle of bubblebath, and strangely, a tutu.

"What?" she asked at their stares. "Oh. The tutu. Well, I figured I could hold Xander to the promise that if I managed to prove to him that the whole lot of us could be in the one room, he'd wear a tutu. And I didn't know you'd all be here!" she said, sniffing.

Xander grinned wryly. "Spike isn't here."

His little lie was proven wrong as Spike walked out angrily. "I keep talkid funny."

Cordelia laughed. "Well, I always knew he was here. I could hear the TV."

Willow sat up, groaning. "How were you planning to get us all here otherwise?"

"If I came visiting, you'd all come to see me!" she threw the tutu across the room at Xander. "Put it on, dancer boy."

He leapt up, and took the pink, frilly dance costume from her.

"Okay!" He pulled it on over his clothes, and Anya groaned.

"Thats not making me want you anymore Xander. Take it off." She commanded. But Cordy intervened.

"You can't take it off! You have to go out in public!" Cordy laughed,

Doyle pushed her onto the couch. "Cordy. Shut up, and let me sleep."

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't want to see him," she jerked a thumb in Xanders direction. "Doing what he does best- making a fool out of himself?"

The Irishman considered it. "Would it involve getting up?" She nodded. "Then no. Pass me the tablets, lass."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cordelia emerged from the bathroom after her bubblebath in fluffy white kitten pj's. Xander (still in his tutu) leapt up and yelled "PJ contest!"

Anya sat up. "Xander, I hate pajama's. Thats why I never wear them..." she frowned. "I don't even think I have any."

Buffy, Willow and Angel groaned, covering their ears. "Oh come on, Red, you and I both know you only wear them when you're cold."

Cordy flopped ontop of Doyle. "Little Miss Goodytwoshoes sleeps naked with *that*? Well theres a story I-" Doyle placed a hand over her mouth.

"Shut up, 'Delia."

Willow, meanwhile, was going as red as her hair, and Spike was sitting back looking smug. Buffy went to speak, but sneezed instead. Angel looked around with the coughing, sneezing, Scooby Gang, and looked about ready to bolt. Only one thing held him down- the fact that if he got up, the room would spin. He didn't want to do that anytime soon.

"Fine. Pajama contesd. Just do id somewhere dat isn'd here." Buffy said. She frowned. "Uh! I'm all sduffy!" she flopped back on Angel. "I thought you said you'd make me well again."

Spike dragged himself away from the TV. "Okay, pajama contest." he looked into his bag and threw a bag to Willow. "There you go, Red. Put 'em on."

Willow opened the bag and pulled out a pair of bright, bright, bright blue silk pj's, with tiny hot pink hearts all over them. Only they weren't love hearts- Spike had given them to her, after all, - they were literally hearts in the beating sense.

Xander fell down on the couch. "Urghhhh....I don't think this is suck a good idea," he moaned.

"Why?" Spike asked, brimming with innocence.

"Cause I feel like I'm about to yak."

Cordelia sighed, "Xanders sick too!" she announced loudly.

~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, Angel, now well enough to stand without feeling like he was about to fall face first off a cliff, kicked everyone out.

"No! You're all leaving."

Doyle looked at him in alarm. "We don't 'ave anywhere to stay, man."

Cordelia gave him a pleading look. "And I'm sure Buffy won't mind. Do some girl-bonding...paint our nails, do facials." Buffy sneezed and groaned.

"Normally I'd love to, Cor. But I feel kinda sick."

Angel winced. That was the 'oh well, just spending time together then' cue.

"Oh well. We can still spend time together, though Buffy!" The blond Slayer, beloved of Angel, nodded happily and patted the empty couch space beside her.

"Ah, thanks Angel, man!" Doyle said, clapping him on the bed. "It be okay if we take the guest room?"

Angel just stood their, helpless, having his desicions made for him. "Uh.....g'night everyone. I'm going to bed."

Cordy turned. "But Angel you just got up!"

He nodded sadly. "And I can see my day will get much much worse if I don't end it now." He kissed Buffys cheek softly, and ran a hand through her hair. "Come up when you guys are done."

She smiled brilliantly. "Wouldn't miss it."

~ * ~ * ~

Cordelia jumped as she felt someone pull her hair. "I swear, Angel, if you're trying to spook me and get me to leave..."

Doyle stood up and grinned. "I see you aren't sick enough to yell, lass."

Cordy narrowed her eyes. "What? You're up to something, Doyle, and that's never good."

The half-demon Irishman just smirked. "The boss's got us going back to work."

Her eyes widened. "WHAT? I'm *sick*, Doyle. Sick. You know, cough cough, sneezing, all that goes with being sick?"

"I'm sick too, Princess, I just thought you might like to go. He's offering overtime wages."

Cordelias eyes went wide. "That means......Doyle, pack your bags." she stood up, "ANGEL? We're going back to LA!"

Buffy opened one eye. "Bye Cordy. Write me."

The brunette just nodded and ran to get her bags. "If he doesn't pay up..." she muttered to herself, her hand on her forehead.

Upstairs, Angel grinned.

~ * ~ * ~

Later that night, Buffy was curled up comfortably in Angels arms watching Roswell. He kissed her hand. "Are you feeling better now?"

She nodded. "Much." she flicked off the tv. "It was certainly an...interesting experience."

Angel smiled wryly. "Supposedly the whole town had it."

She coughed. "I thought vampires didn't get sick. And you and Spike were."

The ensouled vampire shrugged. "I guess it was extra strong."

"Or someone botched a spell again." Buffy frowned. "Will *did* look a little guilty."

"I'd say thats just from the fact that Spike kept making comments the whole time." Buffy laughed.

"You're probably right..." she said, closing her eyes. Back at room 214 Stevenson Hall, a certain red-haired witch winced.

"Oops."

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