A/N: Oddly enough, I don't own Yes Minister or Yes Prime Minister, as is hinted at by the fact that this is fanfiction. I know it's a pretty subtle hint; don't worry if you missed it.

Written because there aren't enough Yes Minister/Yes Prime Minister fics out there! And because when Bernard said "He's bigger than me" it seriously sounded like an innuendo. I'm sorry, but it did.

Note: This has been rewritten. Why? Because it was appalling. It was causing me genuine pain.

The "egregious" Prime Minister of Great Britain, the Right Honourable Jim Hacker, sneezed. These graduated into increasingly persistent sneezes which he seemed unable to prevent as he scrambled for the white handkerchief kept habitually in his top pocket.

"Are you alright Minister?" Bernard asked from his seat at the end of the long table, pencil poised above his notebook, wondering how exactly to express a sneeze in shorthand.

"Yes I'm absolutely-ACHOO!" The Prime Minister's last word was obscured by a truly tremendous sneeze, one that seemed to shake the very foundations (or at least the nuclear bunkers) of Downing Street.

Sir Humphrey Appleby, famous for using many long words and saying very little, recoiled slightly. This was probably because his seat was opposite the minister, as was his new tie. A rather expensive new silk tie. The sort that would be irreparably damaged by such outbursts.

"Minister, you are clearly-" This was interrupted by another sneeze from the Prime Minister, and a slight flicker of concern for his tie crossing Sir Humphrey's visage. "Not feeling quite yourself today-"

"What are you suggesting-Achoo-Humphrey? I should-Achoo-take a day off?" Jim sighed, still holding his handkerchief to his nose, eyes watering slightly from the forceful sneezing. His head felt like a sponge, or like it was filled with sponge; he wasn't quite sure which, and the dull heaviness seeming to press down on his eyes prompted him to resolve that it was immaterial. Either way, a sponge was involved in his simile somehow.

Bernard and Sir Humphrey exchanged looks, and for a moment there an odd sort of symmetry in their facial expressions. It was some mixture of mild concern and seeking a second opinion, or perhaps simply a 'Hacker is such a fool' mutual glance. "Yes." They replied in unison, turning back to Hacker, whose sponge-filled or spongy mind found the entire thing mildly unnerving. This symmetry and odd unison, as though all civil servants were linked on some deep telepathic level, was not helping his headache. Perhaps, Hacker wondered, there were civil servants all nodding and saying the same words in every government building in London at that moment. Simultaneously, through sheer force of shared first-class degrees.

Jim Hacker began to protest, even though several of his faces were fairly convinced that it was pointless. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep. "I can't do that! I have a country to run! I can't just drop everything and ACHOO!"

"Minister, attempting to run a country whilst in this state is of very little benefit to anyone, and may in fact go so far as to have a negative impact, or at least be a significant hindrance, to any political or governmental decisions you might deign to-"

"Short sentences, if you would be so kind Humphrey. I don't feel well enough to deal in riddles today." Hacker wiped his handkerchief across his nose again. Sooner or later, it looked liable to be worn away by sheer force of handkerchief. Erosion and all that. Or at the very least, begin to sting.

Bernard couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at this. Really, the Prime Minister must be ill if he thought that possible! Personally, the Principal Private Secretary had his doubts, and made a severe effort not to smirk at the thought.

"That's words under five syllables Sir Humphrey." Unable to resist the muttered jest, he smirked down the table at his boss, ready to wipe away the grin at a moment's notice. Bernard could never be sure whether his sense of humour truly irritated Humphrey, or if there were some exceptions to this general rule of annoyance.

Sir Humphrey responded solely with a slight tilt of his eyes (a full eye roll would be undignified), and Bernard felt it safe to keep the grin on his face for a few moments longer. "Very well Prime Minister." Humphrey's tone almost slipped into a drawl, a mixture of contempt and feigned civility. "Go home. Rest. Recover."

"Nothing-Achoo-Wrong with-Achoo-Me..." Jim insisted, through his graduating levels of sneeze.

Bernard reached for the telephone as its shrill tones demanded attention, raising it to his ear and pausing with a hand over the mouthpiece to relay the message. "The Prime Minister's doctor is here." At a nod from Sir Humphrey, and pointedly ignoring the Prime Minister's attempts to formulate a protest, Bernard asked for the doctor to be let through.

"Bernard I don't need-ACHOO!"

Sir Humphrey flinched again, abruptly recovering his composure whilst surreptitiously moving back slightly from the table. "I agree with Bernard." Adjusting the papers in front of him, Sir Humphrey continued without looking up, in tones of airy unconcern. "It is hardly a crisis period; we can manage perfectly well without you-I mean, your policies are firmly enforced enough to survive your brief absence, Prime Minister." A silky smile, which really should be impossible, was hastily pasted to his face to conceal or distract from this error. Even the most senior of civil servants have at some point suffered a brief moment of truth.

"I'm the Prime Minister! ACHOO!"

Bernard glanced up as the doctor passed through into the inner sanctum of government, heading for the Prime Minister with swift steps, and placing his bag carefully on an available seat with a brief greeting. After all, he was missing time from his rounds, and that meant money falling through his fingers.

"There's no need-"

Sir Humphrey and Bernard nodded at the doctor, who proceeded to examine the Prime Minister. His face was utterly unaffected as he finished his tests, efficient and unexpectedly quick. Unlike the civil service, Hacker mentally remarked, prompting a smirk that sent a shudder of dread through Sir Humphrey- had the Prime Minister had another accursed idea?

The diagnosis, when it came, was concise. "Prime Minister, I'm afraid you have a mild flu."

"Mild-ACHOO!-FLU?"

Snapping shut the clasps on his bag, the doctor declared, with a slight sigh of irritation at the familiar stubborn refusal to accept his diagnosis, despite the fact that he was the one who'd been to medical school, and had the scars to prove it! "The onset of flu to be precise."

"What should we do?" Bernard asked him, scrutinising the Prime Minister's appearance as though hoping to discern the answer from facial expression alone.

"Well Mr Hacker here should get a large amount of rest. As soon as possible, and for several days." The doctor's tone was steely and similar to that of a parent admonishing a child. That was usually the best way to deal with stubborn patients.

"I can't be off work for days!" Jim protested, before a coughing fit prevented him from saying anything more. A relief, by anyone's standards.

"I have told you Minister, we can manage perfectly well until you return. It's not as though we are at war-" Humphrey made a sweeping hand gesture, but it went utterly unappreciated, as usual, save by the doctor who misinterpreted it as a command to leave the room, much to his relief.

"By the time I get back we could well be!" Hacker protested, handkerchief pressed over his nose and mouth, rendering his voice somewhat muffled.

"Do you have that little faith in us, Prime Minister?" Sir Humphrey asked, a silky smile back on his face. Bernard merely glanced at Sir Humphrey with a slight twinge of his eyebrow.

Jim was too absorbed by his coughing and sneezing to reply beyond one word. "Alright-"

"Thank you Prime Minister." Sir Humphrey beamed, victory obvious in every fibre of his facial expression. "Bernard, would you phone down for a car to take the Prime Minister to his constituency for the prescribed rest?"

Bernard followed Sir Humphrey's instructions instinctively, and soon Jim Hacker was on his way home to his constituency, coughing and sneezing all the way, to his driver's horror.

"Well this is excellent." Sir Humphrey continued to beam as he sat back down, pouring a glass of sherry for himself and Bernard. Bernard accepted his with more caution than it warranted.

"Well, hardly excellent." Bernard's tone was questioning, and Humphrey frowned slightly in response. How could he not see the fantastic potential of power? Sometimes, he did wonder if Bernard's conscience would allow him to be a proper civil servant...

"Whatever do you mean Bernard? We don't have to waste time persuading the Prime Minister to take the right decision or pander to his publicity seeking- we can just do it all ourselves!" Sir Humphrey finished his drink, pondering his next move. Time to revel in his new powers, of course.

"Ah yes, manipulating one's minister does get awfully tiring after a while."

"Do I detect sarcasm in your tone Bernard?" Humphrey asked, rising to his feet, and risking a glance across at his colleague.

"Of course not Sir Humphrey, of course not." Bernard's grin was stifled but still obvious, and Sir Humphrey sighed, forcing his expression to contain more gravitas than he felt.

"Well, I have a dinner appointment. I trust you can keep everything in one piece until I return?" Without waiting for an answer, Sir Humphrey left the room. The time to revel was nigh.

"I'll try!" Bernard shouted at the closed door as it swung shut, although it seemed pointless; he'd already gone.

"I should hope so Bernard..." The reply echoed from further down the corridor, as though Humphrey was somehow omniscient and omnipresent. No politician would ever be safe again.

A/N: Please Review!