Juliet woke up feeling like shit. Stuffed up nose, scratchy throat, gawd she hated being sick. She rolled over, checking her phone for the time. Holy crap, it was almost 8:00! Juliet jumped out of bed and rushed into the kitchen, where Shawn was sitting at the table eating a bowl of fruit loops. He looked up as she came in, tearing his attention away from the cereal. "Jules, you look terrible, like Lindsay Lohan after her peaking point terrible."

"Thanks." Juliet muttered sarcastically. "Why didn't you wake me up, Trout is going to kill me for being late!"

"Jules you don't have to go to work today." Her boyfriend stood up and placed his palm on her forehead, "Sweetheart you're burning up! Go back to bed, I'll call Trout-Man and tell him you're sick."

"Really?" Juliet asked, if she knew anything about Trout it was that he c would probably bite Shawn's head off when he called.

"Yeah, you go get some rest, sweetie."

"Alright." Jules dragged herself back into the bedroom, slightly relieved that she wouldn't have to face the weird, angry interim chief today. Juliet opened the window before lying in bed above the covers. Was it just her, or was it hot in here?

A few minutes later Shawn walked in with a thermometer, some medicine, and a glass of water to swallow the pills. "Open up, Jules." he said, sitting on the bed.

Though she felt a little bit like a child doing so, Juliet opened her mouth as Shawn put the thermometer under her tongue. He whistled as he took it out and looked at her temperature a few seconds later. "One-O-one point two."

Juliet groaned and flopped her head back onto the pillow after swallowing the pills. "No wonder I feel like Hell threw up on me."

"Oh, cheer up Jules, this could be like 'The Princess Bride'. You're Fred Savage, I'm Peter Falk." Shawn mimed opening a book, a used his best "old man" voice. "Once upon a time there was a young woman named Reesescup. She had a farm boy named Westley Despereaux."

"Despereaux?" Juliet asked, "like the art thief?"

"Yeah, he looks a bit like Cary Elwes." Shawn pulled out his wallet and a picture of Despereaux for Juliet to see.

She took the picture and laughed, which soon turned into a
coughing fit, causing a concerned look from Shawn. "You keep a picture of a man you arrested in your wallet?"

"Are you kidding me?" Shawn said. "That man is my second love. I keep his picture right behind the one of my first love." He leaned in for a kiss, but Juliet put a finger to his lips.

"Shawn, you'll get sick."

"I don't get sick." He leaned in again, and this time Juliet let him.

"You say that now," she said between kisses. "In a day you'll be sick as a dog."

"This dog doesn't get sick."

Juliet mustered a smile. "Sure you don't." Soon she felt herself drifting off to sleep as Shawn continued on his slightly varied version of 'The Princess Bride'.

Juliet woke up to the front door opening and the sound of of Shawn's footsteps coming into their house, and then into the bedroom. "Hey sweetheart, how you feeling?" He sat on the bed, brushing Juliet's hair out of her face.

"I've been better."

"Well I've got something that might brighten your spirits." Shawn pulled a few things out of the grocery bag he had been holding.

Juliet gasped. "Pineapple Jell-O and Cup Noodles? That was what I ate when I was sick as a kid! How did you know? And don't tell me it was "psychicness"." She made air quotes.

"Well first of all, Jell-O and noodle soup is pretty much everyone's sick food." Shawn explained. "The details I got from random conversations we've had."

Juliet had to admit, that was pretty impressive. She smiled as Shawn walked into the kitchen to microwave the Cup Noodles. He could be really sweet.

In a few minutes Shawn was snuggled up next to Juliet, stealing her Jell-O.

"Shawn, you're going to get sick." She reminded him for the millionth time.

"I don't get sick, Jules."

Shawn woke up feeling like shit. Stuffed up nose, scratchy throat, dammit, he was sick. He was going to get up quietly and get some water, but his plan was ruined by a fit of coughing that stirred Juliet.

"You're sick." She said sleepily.

"I am not." But his voice was low and nasally, like hers.

"Yes, yes you are!" Juliet said triumphantly. "What happened to not getting sick?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sweetie."

Juliet grabbed the thermometer off the nightstand. "Open up."

"C'mon Jules..." Shawn protested.

"Shawn."

He rolled his eyes and opened his mouth. Honestly, this was totally unnecessary.

"Ha!" Juliet said when she looked at his temperature, "you are sick!"

"So are you."

"But I'm not the one who said he wouldn't get sick and then did."

"I am not sick," Shawn insisted, "now hand me some Jell-O."

Henry unlocked the door with the key he had made long ago and burst into to Shawn and Juliet's house.

"SHAWN, YOU'D BETTER GET YOUR ASS IN MY YARD RIGHT NOW AND MOW MY LAWN LIKE YOU PROMISED, OR SOMEONE'S GETTING HURT!"

He flung open the bedroom door to see Shawn snoring next to a sleeping Juliet. Both of the were obviously sick, and tissues and Jell-O cups were strewn everywhere. Henry chuckled at the sight and closed the door quietly. His lawn could wait.