Summary: Danny and Martin have the weekend off, only they had planned to spend it a little differently.

D/M slash, nothing too graphic.

Hmmm. He was sure he watched this movie before.

Danny increased the volume a little, but not too loud. He didn't want to awaken Martin, who was sleeping peacefully against his shoulder and chest. Only minutes after the ill man had consumed his lunch meal and gulped down his flu medication, he'd fallen asleep. Just like that.

Ah, well. Danny smirked to himself. He didn't mind it, Martin after all was very cute like this.

And he and Martin had the weekend off, he had had something else in mind when Martin had mentioned staying home this weekend but after all he was pretty sure Martin had meant something else too.

"You two, go home" Supervisory agent Jack Malone told them, Danny didn't need to be told twice. Martin however hadn't heard Jack and jumped slightly when Danny suddenly tickled him from behind.

"What?" Martin shrieked – he would never admit it – in a girly way. "Cm'n Fitzy we can go" Martin gave him a lazy grin and very slowly, and deliberately, bowed to pick up his bag.

He smiled at Martin's antics, their relationship was going better than he ever would've imaged.

He could feel the familiar ache again, it wasn't his fault that Martin was just so goddamned sexy - until Martin's face suddenly crunched up and he let out a loud sneeze.

"S'nothing Danny" Martin answered his unspoken request for information, but still the lingering worry that now and then resurfaced particularly when they had to pick someone dangerous up made itself known.

"Cm'n Dan, It's our weekend off I'm sure you want to get home?" Martin's innocent question rang through his head and he gave Martin a wicked grin, he already had several plans to enjoy their weekend off.

The slumbering man had his head tucked under Danny's chin, the plaid blanket swathed cozily around his body from neck to shins. Martin's legs were lying over Danny's thighs, so his bare feet rested on the cushions of the couch.

Danny angled his head to one side and glanced downwards at Martin's visage. His partner looked like such a little, innocent boy when he was asleep. The brows, frequently lowered in a semi-frown while Martin was awake, were relaxed and smoothed out. His eyelashes were more noticeable with his eyes shut, not too thick and just the right length. Right now, there were dark circles around said eyes as well. Danny didn't care. Martin was gorgeous to him even if the man spent a week in the sewers and reemerged in nothing but a potato sack.

Martin was snoring lightly through slightly parted lips. The poor guy probably couldn't breathe through his stuffy nose. Danny delicately tapped the tip of the reddened nose with his forefinger. Oh boy, he could see the skin around the nostrils peeling already. It was going to feel mighty sore. He made a mental note to get some cream or ointment for it later.

He then softly scratched Martin's chin, the pad of his finger tickled by the coarse hair there. Martin didn't shave this morning. One day of no shaving, and the man was already getting scruffy all around his lower jaw. Danny's lips arched up in a diminutive smile. Heh, just another thing they had in common.

He looked back at the television screen.

Oh, he remembered this part. It was the part where some of the soldiers were chatting about … hot chocolate, before they headed out to Iraq to execute their mission.

"' … that's a lotta fuckin' chocolate.'"

Danny smirked. There it was.

Yeah, it wasn't the first time he'd seen this film. He once mentioned to Martin one of the soldiers who talked about the camel debt thing was pretty hot. As a matter of fact, the very one who just spoke up in the movie. Naturally, Martin had sulked a bit until Danny explained that the guy looked so much like him, they might have been twins separated at birth or something.

Danny kept his eyes on that particular soldier. Speculated on how Martin would look with a buzz, Mohawk-like haircut like that. He nibbled on his lower lip. Man, it'd be hot. Throw in the army attire, and maybe some edible war paint, and he and Martin were going to spend some major quality time having mind-blowing roleplay sex.

With him as Martin's commander, of course.

The sleeping man stirred, inhaling deeply through his mouth. Martin mumbled something unintelligible under his breath.


Martin's eyes remained closed. The shorter man nuzzled his face deeper into his neck and shoulder, releasing a single whimper. Then he settled down once more, going limp.

When Danny figured Martin wasn't going to wake up yet, he wrapped his arm more tightly around the shorter man's blanketed body, patting Martin's hip at intermittent times. It was okay. Danny didn't mind sitting lounging there on the couch watching a war movie while Martin was cuddled on his lap and napped. It was actually really nice to spend an off-day this way. Serene, quiet days like these were so rare in the kind of lives they led.

Danny slumped some more on the sofa, sighing. Ah, it was the scene where Michael's character was briefing his team. If Danny recalled correctly, the movie was nearly two and a half hours long. It was hardly half an hour into the film. Maybe he should have brought some junk food to the couch to munch on.

Martin stirred again. Mumbled more inaudible words.

His interest piqued, Danny decreased the television sound volume with the remote, listening intently to whatever Martin was murmuring in his sleep. Martin wasn't just mumbling, he was rubbing his face against Danny's neck and shoulder like a cat would rub itself against its owner or something. It was odd and amusing and sweet at the same time.

The slumbering man sniffled. Rubbed his face another time against Danny's shoulder.

Martin's lips moved.

The taller man bowed his head to better hear what his lover had to say.


Martin appeared to be smiling softly, causing his face to seem even more youthful in sleep. Danny wasn't sure whether he was simply seeing things or not. It was difficult to tell with his vision becoming so blurry all of a sudden. And his throat was somewhat congested. Was he coming down with the flu too?

Danny buried his nose in Martin's mussed, velvety hair, breathing in its clean scent. It smelled like the herbal shampoo Martin favored, fresh and mild.

The slumbering man whispered the same word a second time, going lax in Danny's embrace.

There was an extreme amount of artillery carnage on the television now, the strident noise of missiles and guns firing grating to hear even with the low volume. Danny switched off the television. The calm silence was much better. He already had more than enough violence to deal with on the job anyway.

He pressed a tender kiss to Martin's warm forehead. Laid his head on top of the other man's. His eyelids fluttered close over moist eyes, and he reveled in the comforting sensation of holding his significant other, safe in his arms.


It was amazing what a single, simple word could do to the heart of a man in love.

"Danny … I'm cold."

Martin was sprawled on his belly on the bed, using his toes to sluggishly try and pull up the blankets, he deemed unsuccessful but the attempt was greatly appreciated by Danny.

Danny whose eyes were following Martin's every wiggle and attempt.

Martin violently shivered again and he lost the grin, perhaps Martin was getting really sick.

He grabbed a pair of sweaters, his old pair to be exact, and a pair of thick – he used them mainly for jogging – pants.

Danny sat down heavily on the side of the bed and first pulled off Martin's thin pyama pants then switched them for the thicker pair, next followed the sweater. Now Martin was all covered up, looking adorable in the too big sweatshirt and pants.

Not that he tell the man, Martin being sick was bad enough he didn't need him grumpy too.

Or grumpier, whatever worked.

"Cooold" Martin whined faintly.

Danny placed his palm against Martin's forehead, frowning. Hmmm. Martin actually felt pretty warm, not cold as he claimed.

"Think ya oughta see a doctor, Marty"

Martin opened bleary eyes "No… aspirin"

Danny huffed, Right, Martin never liked going to a doctor or to hospitals but the guy wasn't looking too good. Didn't sound too good either.

"Hmm, I think you're developing a fever"

"Aspirin" Martin shut his eyes again, nestling his face into the pillow beneath his head.

"Okay, Marty" Danny ran a hand over the back of Martin's head and down the back of his neck in one firm stroke, it seemed to calm Martin down a bit. "Hold on, I'll go get it."

The bottle of aspirin was in the bathroom cabinet where Martin usually kept it. Danny shook out two pills onto his palm. That should be enough. He remembered the medicine being awfully strong, and Martin hadn't eaten any food since lunch. He headed to the kitchen next, checking the cupboards for any dry foods that didn't require cooking. Found a packet of wheat crackers, which ought to do fine. He filled a glass with warm water, and strided back to the bedroom.

"C'mon, buddy. Ya gotta eat somethin' 'fore ya take the aspirin."

Martin virtually had to struggle to a sitting position. Before lunch, Martin could still stomp around and complain about everything under the sun, even though it was in a nasal, funny voice. At this moment, Danny had to support the weakened man with an arm behind Martin. And Martin was swaying where he sat. It worried him.

The sick man knew precisely what was going through Danny's thoughts.

"Stop worryin'. Take some aspirin … be a'right in a while," Martin rasped, clinging onto the empty glass with one hand, and Danny's hand with the other.

Danny cast a smile tinged with concern at his lover. He hoped Martin was right. Or he was going to haul the guy directly to the doctor. Even if it meant tying Martin up with ropes and chains and locks Houdini himself couldn't escape from. He took the glass from Martin, leaving it on the bedside table.

Martin wouldn't let his hand go.

"I'm not goin' anywhere," Danny said consolatory.

Martin was still shivering too. His hand was trembling.

"Ya wanna go under th -"

Martin tugged on Danny's hand, towards himself.

"Okay … okay."

Danny scrambled onto the bed, grasping folds of the rumpled blanket at the foot of the bed and spreading it out over them with one big flap.

His other hand wrapped itself around Martin's waist pulling them closer, for body heat of course.

Martin seemed to appreciate it as he let out a satisfied sniff, Martin was freakin' freezing.

Martin had rolled onto his side, his back facing Danny. Danny didn't need any other indication to know what the other man wanted him to do. He lay down on his side too, enveloping his arms around Martin's torso from behind. Spooning this way was one of their favorite sleeping positions.

Martin shivered again violently, if this wasn't going better any time soon then he personally was dragging the younger man to the doctor.

Willingly or not.

"Dan... St'p W'rryin'" Martin mumbled, his voice muffled through the cushions. Danny sighed and began rubbing Martin's back in a faint attempt to get him warm.

"You know there are other ways to get you warm" he murmured against Martin's hair, thoroughly enjoying the annoyed huff that followed his statement.

Martin slowly turned over in his embrace and shot him his best look of daggers, normally it would've been more effective but given the circumstances he'd let it slip.

"Dann…" Martin whined while wriggling closer to him, he gasped softly as Martin's cold feet touched his.

"Relax" Martin continued to mumble, he tried to follow up Martin's advice – or rather order – but found himself worrying instead.

He felt Martin's cold fingers on his face and looked down at the slumbering man "wh'n I get sick, it us'lly pass's quickly" Martin sleepily mumbled, he nodded at his lover even though Martin probably couldn't see it.

He decided that the only way to find out if Martin would get any sicker was by waiting it out, he slowly closed his eyes and almost desperately tried to relax.

"So…" he nervously shuffled around trying to avoid looking into Martin's eyes, as beautiful as they were they were just too distracting and he needed a clear head now.

Otherwise he'll do something stupid like loose his control and then he'd ruin their friendship.

Then he heard Martin cough lightly and on instinct he looked up, totally the wrong move.

The whole team minus Vivian had gone out to a bar to celebrate the happy ending of their last case, he had gotten a Coke whilst the rest of the team had gotten alcoholic beverages.

He couldn't blame or resent them they didn't have a problem with it, he did, besides he was far too happy that Martin was giving him his sole attention.

Earlier on both Vivian and Sam had cornered him and hinted – demanded- at him to go do something before they would do something.

He had told them – of course – that he would do something soon.

The only problem was that he didn't have a single idea as how to handle things, he'd known for a while he was interested in guys but Martin hadn't given him one hint that he was interested too.

And he told himself it had taken them a while to be friends and now he was happy to call Martin a good friend now and he so didn't want to screw that up.

And now he was staring into Martin's clear blue eyes, whilst said man was leaning against his kitchen counter giving him a confused look.

"Danny?" Martin's voice wasn't slurring, at least Martin could hold his liquor that was positive he wouldn't want Martin to be intoxicated and therefore decide or do something he normally wouldn't.

Martin hesitantly stepped forwards his coffee completely forgotten on the counter "What is it?" Martin questioned, the investigator in him not letting it go.

He stepped forwards too now they were almost nose to nose, yet the atmosphere wasn't uncomfortable.

Feeling very self-conscious he grabbed Martin's hand and intertwined their fingers, Martin was still looking at him with a confused expression and he began to doubt Martin's soberness.

His other hand – almost as if being controlled by someone else – moved up and caressed Martin's cheek slightly.

He saw Martin's expression change from one of confusion to one of soft understanding, unable to express his feelings he moved closer until their lips almost met.

He took one last look at Martin before he softly pressed his lips on the younger man.

He had been expected a lot of things but the one thing he hadn't been expecting was the uncontrollable feeling of lust and love that overtook him.

He pressed their bodies tighter against each other and almost automatically moved his hands over Martin's body in a possessive way.

His hand that had been intertwined with Martin's suddenly found a way to Martin's waist and pressed their mid-sections tighter against each other, his other hand moved to Martin's head and grabbed Martin's hair.

He turned them both around and pushed the younger man against the wall, he felt how Martin's mouth opened slightly – from shock or delight he didn't know - and took full advantage of it.

He growled low in his throat and pushed Martin's dress shirt out of his pants, his hands moved hungrily over the newly discovered skin and it resulted in a low groan from the younger man pressed against the wall.

He continued to map the new skin with his hands when it suddenly occurred to him how warm Martin was.

Really warm…

He frowned and moved his hands over the by now familiar, and really warm, skin. He opened his eyes slightly disappointed that he couldn't finish his dream, it took him awhile to get used to the darkness of the room but then he could finally look around.

They were laying into their bed which considering they did this every night – every night that they were off – wasn't so weird but normally Martin wasn't this warm.

He shook his head lightly, clearing it up effectively then looked at Martin again – fully awake now he spotted the drips of sweat rolling down his lover's forehead.

Fine my ass, he thought.

He carefully extracted himself from the still sleeping form of his partner and thought deeply, what had Sam told him some time back about dealing with fevers?

Of course, cool him down.

How was he supposed to do that, he frowned – shit, he should slap himself for not thinking about it earlier.

He quickly hurried to the bathroom and retrieved a thermometer, he gently opened Martin's mouth and waited till the thermometer beeped.

He cursed loudly, momentarily forgetting that Martin was still asleep, 104.6 was way too high.

He quickly wriggled his fingers under the still sleeping form of his lover and hoisted him up "Hmm?" he heard Martin vaguely mumble but he ignored it.

Martin was still half asleep, it was a miracle that he could sleep – He accidently bumped into the bathroom door which resulted into Martin waking up more forcefully.

"D'nny?" Martin sounded so vulnerable he felt his heart clench just a little, he sat Martin down on the toilet seat and began filling the tub with cold water.

Martin would probably give him hell for it later but right now he couldn't care less.

He tested the water – and decided that it was good enough – then turned around and helped the barely awake man out of his clothes before lowering him into the cold water.

As soon as Martin hit the water he seemed to be hyper alert and tried to wriggle out of his grip "Noo, 'm sorry. I won't do it again,'m sorry. Don't…" he was momentarily stunned by the other man's feverish mumblings before he finally came to his senses.

His hand wavered through Martin's hair in a comforting move "Shh, Marty, I'm here. It's me, Danny. Shh" he continued to mumble soothing words effectively calming the other man, however the investigator in him couldn't help but wonder what Martin had been seeing.

He, Vivian and Sam had looked up Martin's file when he was just transferred to their department and all of them – including a reluctant yet curios Vivian – had noticed nothing unusual about the younger man.

The file itself looked so boring it nearly surprised him in the beginning that Martin had something else to offer besides that damn charming smile.

Shoving his new found evidence in a storage locker far in the back of his brain he worriedly checked his lover before sprinting back to their bedroom to retrieve the thermometer – and some fresh clothes.

Upon his return he noticed that Martin had become a bit agitated again but not nearly enough to cause the same debacle from a few minutes earlier.

"Cm'n Marty, open up" he mumbled quietly and he was pretty sure that Martin couldn't understand him either way, he waited patiently until the thermometer beeped and then looked at it again.

The thermometer read 102.4, he let out a satisfied huff at least that was a relatively good temperature.

Considering it first had been bordering on the highly dangerous 104.6 he was glad to have gotten it down to 102.4.

He helped the younger man out of the tub, dried him off and gently helped him into the fresh clothes he had brought along.

He then proceeded to hoist Martin up again and – only swaying slightly – carried him back to the bedroom.

He brought the covers up again and snuggled close to Martin, please let this be over he thought hopefully.

Anything's better than this.

He coughed lightly and rubbed his chest, he spared a glance at his partner, Martin was sleeping soundly next to him – finally.

After hours of waking up from a mixture of high fever, returning nightmares and what he guessed muscle aches the man was finally sleeping soundly.

He sure as hell got them when he was sick and he tended to wake up from muscle aches too, of course Martin wouldn't admit it to him – Martin had this trait that he never admitted 'weaknesses'.

Something he was sure Victor Fitzgerald was responsible for, he rolled his neck from left to right stretching it.

Martin shifted slightly and grabbed his hand, wherever unconsciously or not he liked the action.

He sneezed loudly and looked up in horror, oh no he was not getting sick, he felt a light squeeze in his hand and looked down at the half-sleeping form of his lover.

"Dann?" Martin asked him, the sleep still obvious in his eyes and his cheeks still slightly puffed with fever.

"Nah, I'm okay. Sneezing once doesn't mean that I'm gonna be sick Marty" he ruffled Martin's hair and laid back next to him.

No way in hell was he going to be sick.

"Danny? Are you alright? You're looking a bit pale" Sam told him with a defiant look on her face.

He snorted and turned around, facing his computer again "I'm fine, Sam. Thank you for asking".

He heard her walk closer to him until she sat next to him on his desk, then he felt her cold hand press against his forehead "You're warm"

God, he'd probably jinxed himself.

He was getting irritated, he swatted her hand away and shot her a look of daggers – instead of turning around and letting it go she remained seating.

He turned around giving her an annoying look "Yes, Samantha?" her eyes squeezed together momentarily before she smiled at him.

Suspicion was beginning to creep up to him.

"You know" she said conversationally "I heard that Martin had the flu too, just two days ago as a matter of fact" he sneezed loudly, earning a small devilish smile from Samantha.

Very true indeed and yes shit he was probably coming down with the same virus too.

Her smile had turned into a full sized grin.

He smiled back at her and wiggled his eyebrows.

"You have a problem with it?"


Jack shot them both a weird look when he saw Sam grinning like a maniac.

"Jack, you owe me twenty!"