Author's Note: This was written during a weeklong fanfiction challenge I did over at my sketch/fic blog. For more details, please look through the archives of .com!

"What do you mean 'our cabin'?"

Strong Bad glared at the bundled up concierge. "The company said we were each getting one of these dinky little shacks. We can't share. This place is smaller than my bedroom!"

The man simply shrugged, putting their luggage down. "According to your reservations, you only ordered one cabin."

"Well, go call the corporate office and straighten it out!" Strong Bad barked, picking up his luggage. "I'm not sharing a room with that idiot."

Homestar looked up from his spot in front of the fireplace. He's been prodding at the firewood with the metal stake. "I am not an idiot."

"Oh yes you are," Strong Bad muttered under his breath. He shook his head and pointed threateningly at the concierge. "I want my own cabin now. Put it on his-" He thumbed to Homestar over his shoulder. "- credit card."

"I'm sorry to say, sir, that all cabins are rented out for the weekend," the now irate gentleman drawled. "You'll have to make do until Monday."

Strong Bad's jaw fell open as the man left, closing the door behind them. Make do? Make do? Oh, this guy was so getting a negative million star rating on those hotel travel sites. Speaking of stars...

He glared over his shoulder at Homestar who miraculously managed to start a fire without catching his bright red winter coat on fire, too. He was rubbing his bare hands together, looking rather content.

Strong Bad shivered. A sweatshirt was allright back in Free Country, but in the middle of winter, Maine was much much colder. He reluctantly took a seat by Homestar, curled up in himself to try and keep warm.

"You-" He pointed at Homestar sternly. "Are sleeping on the floor."

"What?" Homestar glared at him. "Oh, no way. That bed is enormous. We can share."

He let out a derisive snort of laughter. "I don't think so, geekwad. Not after that supply closet incident."

Homestar rolled his eyes. "Geez, you makeout with one mailroom clerk and you get marked for life... well, you don't have to worry." He rubbed his hands together, quiet for a moment. He smirked wryly. "I only dig hot guys."

Strong Bad flinched, offended. "Oh, what do you know anyway..." he muttered, glaring at the crackling fire.

The two tried to keep their distance as best they could in the closed quarters. The grueling bus ride over had lasted a little over a day. They were tired, they were sore, and more than anything they were sick of each other. Insults normally rolled off Homestar's back, but after listening to Strong Bad for twenty-eight hours, the athlete had snapped, utterly fed up with every word his partner said. Strong Bad's tolerance for Homestar had lasted all of five minutes.

Why on earth the corporate men upstairs insisted on having them go on these terrible business trips together was beyond either of them. They didn't work well together (Strong Bad hardly worked at all), and never got results.

Strong Bad played with the tv, but on most stations all he could get was static. On one, however, he seemed to get something, but the voices were distorted, the picture in fuzzy black and white. He squinted, trying to make out the picture. Stupid tiny tv screens. He'd seen Gameboys with bigger and better monitors than this thing.

He turned it off after a while. It was apparent that television wasn't going to entertain him. He looked around the room, eyes landing on Homestar Runner and his failing game of solitaire. He frowned.

"You know how to play poker?" He got up and kneeled on the bed beside him.

Homestar put his hands on his game protectively. "I'm playing solitaire."

"Correction- you were playing solitaire. Now we're playing poker," Strong Bad snickered, flicking the blanket. The game fumbled over, despite Homestar's best efforts. He frowned and watched as Strong Bad collected the cards and shuffled the deck.

"Poker's boring if you don't bet anything."

Strong Bad glared at him. "Fine. We'll bet-" He hesitated. Not money. He was broke from the plane ride over. He drank enough twelve dollar mixed drinks to tranquilize a small horse. Then what? He looked around the room for inspiration, eyes finally landing at the head of the bed.

"...we'll bet the bed rights on it."

Homestar pouted. "What? You mean whoever wins gets the bed? The whole thing?"

"We'll start small- first hand gets the sheets, second hand gets the comforter, and I guess each pillow will be its own hand... and then the bed."

He continued shuffling the deck as Homestar thought it over. "...fine. You're on. Deal me in."

Strong Bad was quickly reminded why he never played against Homestar in anything- ever. Homestar won the first hand with three aces. He dominated the second hand with a pair of kings and a pair of queens. The third and fourth rounds were a blur to Strong Bad, because at that point he'd gotten so mad he was seeing red.

He was in the middle of shuffling the deck at a rapid and haphazard pace when there was a slam against the side of the cabin, snapping their attention to the fire place. The walls rattled for a brief instant.

"What the crap was that?" Homestar muttered. He got up to inspect some of the knick knacks that had fallen down when they both heard dripping.

The dripping soon became a stream and then a whump. A pile of filthy snow and ice fell from the chimney and onto their fire, putting it out.

Strong Bad jumped up, a pair of aces falling out of his sleeves. "Holy crap!"

"That's all the fire wood we have," Homestar frowned. "Guess we gotta go to the office and get some more."

"To the office?" Strong Bad repeated. He motioned to the windows. "How, exactly, are we getting to the office? It's a freakin' blizzard, genius. We had to take a goddamn snowmobile just to get out here. We can't get to the office."

"Then fine, we'll just ring them up." Homestar shivered and headed for the phone. He picked it up and frowned again. "I'm not getting' a dial tone."

"Perfect. Just... perfect. No fire, no sheets, no comforter, no pillow... great. As if my day couldn't possibly get worse, nature has to take a piss on it."

"I think snow would be more like diarrhea. I mean, rain's probably piss," Homestar mused. "...I guess that makes hail shit."

Strong Bad glared at him. "Oh, shut up." He shuddered and hugged himself. "Jeezus, it's freezing in here already."

"Shoulda brought a real jacket," Homestar muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

They were quiet for a moment, save for the snow and wind whipping at the windows.

"Well... I'm gonna go to bed." Homestar stretched and slipped off his shoes. He kicked them across the room, toppling over the lamp and smashing it in the process. He winced in the near dark. "...oops."

"...just... perfect."

Homestar slid into the bed and pulled the comforter over him, letting out a content sigh. Wool might be itchy, but it sure was warm. He glanced at Strong Bad, who was making a little bed on plush chair by the fireplace. "...what are you doing?"

"Sleeping," Strong Bad snorted gruffly, back to him.

"I get that," Homestar sighed. He sat up, bracing himself against the rush of cold as he left the blankets. He shivered. "But why are you over there?"

"Because you won."

He frowned. "It's freezing. Get over here."

"...no."

"Why not?"

"Because."

Homestar leaned against his knees. "But... it's freezing."

"We established that, yes."

A sigh. "I'll drag you over here if I have to."

"I'd like to see you try."

A pause, followed by the shuffling of feet- complete with gasp as bare feet met the hardwood floor. Homestar practically stomped over, annoyed. "You got to the count of three to get in that bed."

Strong Bad glared over his shoulder.

"One."

He snorted and turned back to the chair.

"Two."

He didn't move.

"Two and a half."

He tapped his finger on his arm and growled. Homestar was halfway through 'two and three quarters' when Strong Bad sat up with a 'fine, fine!' and an irritated growl.

Strong Bad sat on the edge of the bed and laid down, practically falling off. He pulled a sheet over himself and muttered an poignant 'good night'. Homestar frowned and tossed him a pillow.

Homestar fell asleep after a while, blissful under the blankets. Strong Bad, however, misjudged just how cold it actually was. At some point during the night the buildup of snow and ice in the chimney that had ruined the fire in the first place gave out completely, and a sharp, icy draft made its way into the cabin. Strong Bad's chattering teeth awoke Homestar.

He yawned and sat up, still half asleep. He crawled to Strong Bad's side of the bed and pulled the comforter over the both of them, muttering something that sort of sounded like 'goodnight' if 'goodnight' could be four or five syllables. Strong Bad glared at him over his shoulder. He tried kicking him away to put some distance between them but it backfired. Homestar rubbed his face in his sleep and then slung his arm over Strong Bad's side.

Strong Bad tensed up. "Homestar," he hissed, but the grip just tightened. Homestar's breath tickled his neck and he scrunched his eyes together. This was... unpleasant.

Well, not unpleasant. Just awkward. Homestar was pretty freakin' warm. He squirmed a little to put a few inches of distance between them and yawned tiredly. He nudged Homestar's arm off and pulled the blanket tighter, content to fall asleep.

He woke up the next morning, eyes half focused on a flashing alarm clock. It read 4 am, but the morning light contradicted that- obviously the electricity had gone out sometime during the night. He glanced over his shoulder at Homestar, who managed to pull Strong Bad closer during the night.
He cuddled against his shoulder and sighed, awakened by Strong Bad's rustling.

"Morning!" he yawned, hugging him closer. He blinked and pulled away, shuffling back to his side of the bed. "Oh, uh. Yeah, I guess I shoulda told ya that I was a spooner."

"I noticed," Strong Bad snorted, sitting up. He shifted uneasily, a little chilly now that Homestar had pulled away. He frowned. "We're late for the meeting."

Homestar pulled his pillow over his head. "Screw the meeting," he muffled.

"Seconded." He looked over at the fireplace. "I hope we get that fixed for tonight."

"Me too."

"We could still... share the bed, though."

"...really?" Homestar pulled the pillow away.

"Yeah, well, I mean. That chair's gotta be bad for my back so... and this bed's pretty freakin' huge," Strong Bad muttered awkwardly. "So yeah. We'll just share."

"Awesome," Homestar sighed. He buried his face into his pillow.

Strong Bad got up and pulled the blinds closed, blocking out most of the blinding white light. He yawned and crawled back into bed, this time on Homestar's opposite side. He hesitantly wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned against his back, half-expecting Homestar to protest. But he gave him little more than a curious glance before he shrugged it off and cuddled into his pillow.

Homestar yawned and pulled the blankets tighter. Strong Bad smirked. If he was going to use someone as a human hot water bottle, he was going to be the 'big spoon', and it seemed like Homestar was just fine with that.