First off, I'm sorry for not updating at ALL last month. I had been out of town a majority of it, and hadn't had much time then to think about the oneshots. I also have college now, but luckily that won't take up too much of my time right now, and I'm taking a writing class, so that might boost up my writing ability! To those with requests in the reviews, I am working on how they will go right now! I have to get a full detail of how stories will go before I can write them down, or I'll get distracted and never get them done. But for now, enjoy this update, and it's longer than my other ones have been!

Anonymous: Tbh I LOVE your writing! You are an amazing writer and you're very talented! :D ((Also, can I ask for a frender fic pretty please? Maybe like when one is sick and the other's the caretaker? You don't have to if you don't want though haha))

Rating: T (for language)

Description: Fry's sick, and Bender thinks he's the best caretaker for him. This can only go so well.

Leela sent a fist at the punching bag, her hand colliding with it and sending it back a bit. She had been an early riser that day, deciding to come to work early and start working out. Her muscles didn't ache as easily as they had when she started working with the bag, but they still did after a workout for minutes on end. She always made sure, though, to rest. During rest, she would always think of ways to provoke herself to work harder. A majority of the time, those thoughts were always about Zapp Brannigan, that self-absorbed bastard.

She was cut off from her thoughts when her cell phone rang. Catching her breath from the exercise, she went over to her gym bag, opening it to search for her phone. The name 'Bender and Fry' was written across the screen. Oh great, what now? Pressing her finger to the Answer button, she lifted the phone up to her ear. "Hello?"

"About time you answered! Something's wrong with Fry!"

Her irritation was wiped away by concern for her friend. "What's wrong?"

"He's complaining and he won't get out of bed. He looks like crap, too. I mean, he always looks like it, but he looks even worse now."

"Hmm. Check his forehead and see how it feels."

There came some grumbling from the other side of the phone, and soon she started hearing some faint groaning from the line. "Shut up, meatbag, I gotta feel your forehead," came Bender's unamused voice, and it was quiet for a few seconds, before his voice returned. "It's pretty hot."

"Sounds like he's sick, then," Leela stated the obvious. She sighed. "Well, I'd better get over there and take him to the doctor."

"What the hell would Zoidberg know?"

"I mean a real doctor."

"Fry doesn't need a stupid doctor. He's perfectly fine! Aren't you, Fry?" There came another pitiful groan from Fry. "See? He agrees with me!"

"Fry needs someone who can give him the care he needs to recover."

"Wait, what the hell does that mean? Are you saying I'm not fit to take care of Fry!?"

"You're you, Bender. You can't take care of anyone but yourself."

"What a load of bull!" From the sound of Bender's voice, it sounded like he had been offended by the truth. "I can take care of Fry! He doesn't need you or a doctor!"

"Bender-!"

"You watch, cyclops! By the end of the day, Fry'll be good as new!" Judging by the sound Leela heard, it sounded like Bender had slammed the phone down onto the receiver. Wincing, she yanked the phone away and rubbed her ear.

….

"Stupid Leela, thinking she knows everything!" Bender scowled as he glared down at the phone he had hung up. "I can take care of a sick human!" He turned away from the phone then to the couch.

Laying there was the miserable meatbag that was Fry. He was shivering, clutching a blanket tightly around him, and groaning with obvious discomfort. He was clearly burning up, Bender could feel it before he even touched his forehead, it practically radiated off of him.

"Now, uh…what the hell do I do?"

"H-hey, Bender?" Fry's voice was pretty weak, and it sounded like he was exhausted.

"Yeah?"

"Can you get me some water, please? That really helps…"

"Uh, ok, sure." Maybe if he did whatever it was Fry needed, he'd get better quickly. That'd show that puppy stomper what's what. He went over to the fridge, and snatched up a bottle of water that was hidden among the rows of beer they had. Bender went back over to Fry, handing it to him. "Here."

"Thank you." Fry slowly took the bottle of water. "Um…c-can you open it for me?"

"What am I? Your butler?"

"Bendeeeeeeeerrrrr…."

"Fine! Fine, give me the damn bottle." Bender snatched it away to twist off the cap before giving it back. "Here!"

Fry shakily took a sip of the water. His hand was shaking pretty badly, that Bender had to hold onto it so it wouldn't slosh all over the floor. "There, you happy?"

"Mmhm…" Fry set the water bottle on the floor.

"Good. Anything else you humans need when you're sick?"

"My mom would usually make chicken soup whenever one of us was sick."

"I'm not your mom. BUT, I will make you some of Bender's amazing homemade chicken soup." Something in Fry's stomach stirred, making it give an uncomfortable ache. "You just lay here and don't die yet!" With that, Bender went to the kitchen area of the apartment, and grabbed his cookbook. "Ok, let's see…" He had barely found the page when there came a horrific retching sound. He shot around, and saw that the couch was empty, Fry having left it. The sound was coming from the bathroom.

Bender went to investigate, and saw that Fry was leaning over the toilet, emptying his stomach. "What the hell, Fry!?"

"I got the bug," Fry groaned, shaking even more now.

"So I guess chicken soups out of the question?"

"Sorry…"

God damn it.

It had been around an hour before Bender decided taking the humans temperature was necessary. Fortunately, they had one that Leela had bought for them, due to the fact she didn't believe Fry would buy all the necessary materials for housing (which she was quite correct). Soon, Fry had the small thermometer in his mouth, Bender sitting beside him, waiting impatiently.

"Ig gomfa fome uphiggin."

"What?" Bender turned to look at Fry, who suddenly looked like he was going to be sick again.

"Ig gomfa fome uphiggin!" Fry tried again.

"AACK! WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SO!? GIVE ME THE THERMOMETER! RUN!"

"You can't eat, and you can barely drink anything because your intestines hate you."

"Yep."

"You're broken, Fry. If you were a robot, you wouldn't have this problem."

Fry just groaned, wrapping the blanket more around himself. He felt miserable, he hadn't been this sick since he was back in the 20th century.

"So what else do you need that WON'T make you heave your guts?"

"Wet rag would help."

"That's what you said with the water."

"You put it on the back of my neck."

"Oh. Fine."

While Bender went to fetch a rag and soak it with water, Fry just reached over to the other side of the couch and grabbed the TV remote. TV was always there whenever he was sick. Bender returned later with a damp rag. "Alright, here, meatbag." He then draped it over the back of Fry's neck, the redhead shivering a bit from the cool feeling. Once making sure it wasn't going to fall off, he sat down beside Fry, attention now on the TV. He opened his chest compartment, taking out a cigar. He lit it with his finger, and stuck it into his mouth. "You need to quit being sick, I don't like it. Mainly cause I have to move around and do stuff."

Fry just took his pillow and leaned it against the bending unit before laying his head down on it comfortably. "Mm. You're a good friend, Bender." He gave a weak smile.

"Hell yeah I am." Bender just gently ruffled Fry's hair.