A/N: Believe it or not, it took a late night, hours of feeling like crap, and a homemade truffle to get me to back to writing fan fiction. Go figure.

I also noticed that this category wasn't getting any love from any fans, and since I am the original instigator of this category it will forever be my duty to continue to stimulate it. Sick Day will be a three-chapter ficlet. Originally, I was going to publish all three chapters in a single oneshot, but the third chapter manipulated my muses, and now I am committed to turning this story into a true story; not just a oneshot. Please give me support by reviewing! I don't want my future fanfictions to suffer the same fate as my past (Naruto) ones.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot…and the sickness, definitely the sickness. RE: Play and its cast belong to Christy Lijewski and Tokyopop; the movie Steel Magnolias belongs to its respective authors/producers and holds all original copyrights.

Read, review, and enjoy!

"The only thing that separates us from the animals is our ability to accessorize."

"This is the gayest movie I've ever seen." Rail leered at the television set, his watery, itchy eyes making the screen seem ten times brighter than it really was. His flannel pajama pants stuck in uncomfortable places and his favorite shirt (the one with the gaping hole in the side) was no longer proving to be as wonderful a companion as it once had. Sitting next to him (and taking up most of the blanket, Rail noted grudgingly) was a sniffling Izsak, his rust-colored eyes rimmed with an irritated pink that matched the burning hue of his cheeks.

"How is this gay? It's a classic movie about southern women who support each other through the good times and the bad times," retorted the latter in a nasal voice, "and personally, I think it's pretty good."

"Well excuse me for rubbing your personal preference the wrong way," snapped Rail. The 24-hour sickness had both of them by the throats, and out of the two the carrot-top was the one who was worse for the wear. Forced to share the couch, the blankets, and the TV, Rail and Izsak were beginning to behave like two pecking hens; ironic, since the only true 'hens' of the abode were out on the town at that moment.

Izsak laughed suddenly at the movie, heaving a large sigh from Rail and causing him to fidget around in his frustration, the small amount of blanket left to him sliding from his figure. At this movement Izsak curled into himself, his eyes momentarily breaking from the TV to instead warily watch his seat mate. He whispered hoarsely, "Rail?"

"I'm just hot, alright?! Dammit, I hate being sick," And with that Rail simply flopped back onto the couch, his efforts to resituate himself beneath the blanket having been ditched. He ran a hand through his sweaty orange hair and snapped, "Just watch your damn movie," before falling into silence to do just that.

But now the trials and tribulations of southern women were the last thing occupying Izsak's mind. He looked at the hotheaded man next to him and, as he slowly uncurled himself from his place pressed up against the armrest, lifted his arm, gesturing for Rail to get back in next to him. For a brief moment pink eyes met watery ones, the former pushing whilst the latter remained both reluctant…and suspicious.

"Look. It's not that I don't like you or anything…well, no, I don't like you in general--"

"Just shut up and get in."

Rail's eyebrows shot up into his hairline as his face twisted into an expression of pure disbelief; had the normally calm, secluded Izsak just snapped at him and in the form of an order no less? One thing was for sure: his expression must have been pretty animated, for Izsak's own face had relaxed in a second, his eyes shining with mirth instead of that dull sheen so characteristic of the sick. Rail quickly straightened and stared at him apprehensively. "What's so amusing?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing; your face was just pretty funny. Anyway," Izsak gave the arm holding the blanket open a little shake, "hurry up and get in, all of the heat is going."

Rail mumbled, cursing beneath his breath and looking at the other in disbelief. "You're serious?"


Swallowing his pride (and coughing a little on behalf of his sore throat) Rail slid in next to Izsak, settling in for the duration of the daytime movie. He did not, however, accept the half of the blanket he was offered. "I'm still burning alive here," he muttered. For a moment Izsak stared at him.

"Well you know, you could just take your pants off."

Rail's only response was to kick him.

"Oh! Well don't you expect me to come to one of your churches or one of those tent-revivals with all those Bible-beaters doin' God-only-knows-what! They'd probably make me eat a live chicken!"

"Not on your first visit!"

"Very good, Annelle! Spoken like a true smart-ass"!