Disclaimer: I own nothing involved with the television series "Lie to Me" and I won't pretend to.

Author's Note: Meh, just a little randomness I typed when I was bored. Hey, maybe it'll actually be good. :) It's up to you peoples. :P Please read and review!

Eli was hungry and tired. Not to mention he had this wicked cold that was bogging him down. He couldn't understand why he even had an appetite with such a plague ailing him, but it could be the fact that food just wasn't common in his daily routine. He would kill for a half a sandwich, or even a fourth. Heck, he'd take an eighth if that's all he got.

"Hey, Loker I need you to—" Ria began as she rushed into the office, stopping abruptly as Eli swiveled around to represent a true vision of misery.

"Geez, you look horrible!" she exclaimed, alarmed at his haggard appearance.

"How sweet of you to say." he replied sarcastically, sniffling as he slouched further in his chair. "What can I do for you?" Ria expected a wink or a smile to follow, but it never came.

"Um..." She hesitated as she tried to find her concentration once more. "Right, I need you to analyze these videos. Foster just brought them from the prison interviews." Ria held out a DVD, which Eli slowly retrieved from her fingers, wincing as he pulled himself forward from his lazy position.

"Alright, a video analysis, coming right up..." he sighed, sniffling again.

"Are you sure you can do this? I mean, I can go interview suspects later if you need help." she offered, concerned as she took in Eli's dark eyes and disheveled hair.

"No, no, I'm fine; I can handle it." he responded, carefully placing the DVD in his disk drive. Ria waited awhile with the hope that Loker would change his mind.

"Alright..." she said slowly. "call if you need anything." With a last worried stare, Ria left Eli in silence. With her gone, he crossed his arms and placed them on the table, bowing his head in exhaustion. He wanted coffee...and the only free coffee—though nasty—was in the break room. Eli could call Ria, but that would somehow injure his pride.

To the break room it is then.

He pushed himself up, grimacing as his aching muscles protested. When he was finally upright, he rewarded himself with a sigh, only to be exposed to another symptom of illness: dizziness. Eli stubbornly continued to stand, determined to get that mug of ridiculously poor-tasting coffee. Oh, but the hot chocolate was pretty good; maybe he'll go with that instead. As long as it would soothe his sore throat, he would be pretty dang happy. With a deep breath, which plunged him into a short coughing fit, Eli pressed on, putting one step in front of the other and slowly making his way to the break room.

More than halfway through the journey, he realized the hot chocolate wasn't worth enough for the agonizing trip. But, now he had no choice: he had to get there. He wasn't just going to seat himself down in the middle of the broad hallway.

Upon entering the break room, he immediately dropped into the couch, catching his breath as shallow gasps scratched at his throat. Maybe he could've spared a little pride and called Ria instead; it would've been much less painful.

"Alright, now to get up." he coached himself, staring at the counter with a nice, little microwave placed on it. For a healthy person, getting from point A to point B was hardly a chore. But, Eli looked at it like it was a ten mile hike.

"It's just here to there." he told himself, attempting to get psyched up for a simple bit of hot chocolate. Nah, it wasn't working. He'd rather stay seated. Although, a short power nap would really help. Foster probably wouldn't mind getting those analyses a little later; he could spare the time. Without hardly any effort at all, he toppled over and pulled up his legs.

"Oh, Dreamland...here I come."

"Eli!"

Eli jolted awake, more congested and achier than before. Perhaps a nap wasn't such a smart idea.

"Loker, what are you doing here? I thought I sent Ria with some videos for you to analyze!" Gillian scolded...If she could indeed scold. The woman tried: kudos for that.

"I..." Eli croaked, squeezing his eyes shut as the light assaulted them in their delicate state. His head pounded at the sound of her loud voice and just moving sent him into a wave of dull pain and sickness evils. "I, uh...needed a nap..." It wasn't a lie; he did need that nap. Somehow he knew she was checking him over with her motherly worry.

"Are you sick?" she asked. Apparently, she hadn't noticed the signs of illness amid all her frustration. Eli could feel a hand on his forehead and realized how remarkably colder it seemed to be. Either Foster had bad circulation or he was starting to get quite feverish.

"'m fine..." he mumbled, sniffling.

"My word, Eli! You're burning up!" she stated, sounding almost shocked by the fact.

"Meh..." he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Come on, I'm taking you to the doctor." She tapped his shoulder as if it would motivate him, but he ignored it.

"Nooo..." he groaned. "I'm not going to the doctor."

"Why not?" she queried, looking shocked by his decision. He didn't think it was that big of a deal; most likely he would survive this thing that was flooding his system.

"I don't have one." he whispered, still keeping his eyes shut.

"That doesn't matter, I'll take you to mine!" she said, sounding almost desperate to take him to some physician. Eli sighed; he really didn't want to deal with her caring ways right now.

"I can't pay for it..." he muttered, breathing deeply as sleep started to creep back up on him.

"But—"

"Lemme sleep and 'll be fine..." he slurred, nearly overcome by another nap. Gillian sighed as she watched him float into a dream.

"Oi, Loker!"

Lightman.

"Whaaaaaaaaat...?" Eli groaned, cracking his eyes open angrily to glare at his boss. Lightman sighed, obviously being put up to this by Foster.

"Foster says you won't go to the doctor." he stated.

"Yeah...?" Eli croaked, narrowing his eyes in further frustration. He just wanted sleep and it seemed like World War III was coming to keep him awake.

"Uh...well, I think you should go to the doctor. You look bloody horrible." Lightman said, looking back at Foster who was folding her arms by the doorway. Eli stared at his employer for awhile, feeling almost betrayed.

"Please don't make me move from this spot..." Eli muttered groggily. "It took a lot just to get here..."

"Well, you can't just stay here. Either get to work or go home!" Lightman lectured, sounding much more like the boss Eli knew.

"Can you drag me to the analysis room?" Eli mumbled, raising his eyebrows with hope. To heck with pride; he'd much rather be lazy and served.

Cal stared at the young researcher with something that sat between anger and surprise. After a moment, it melted into a concerned expression; Eli had only seen it when Emily was around. Loker must've looked pretty crappy if he was getting that look now.

"I'll do your work if you can somehow get me from here," Eli pointed wearily to the floor. "to there." He aimed his shaky finger to the analysis room just down the hall. Cal wasn't looking at where Eli indicated though; he was staring at his employee's trembling hand.

"Are you sure you want to say that?" Cal asked, looking bothered by the idea.

"Pretty flippin' sure." Eli grumbled, closing his eyes again. Cal sighed.

"I guess I better call Reynolds."

"Shh, I'm catching some zees..." Eli hissed.

"What? You called me here just to drag his lazy—"

"Whyyyyyy...?!" Eli groaned as he awoke from his slumber again. He took the one decorative pillow on the couch and chucked it at Agent Reynolds without any fear.

"What the...?" Reynolds muttered as he deflected the pillow.

"You three are annoying." Eli growled, repositioning himself to lay on his stomach and bury his head in the seat cushions.

"Reynolds is here to drag you to work." Lightman informed him. "You were the one that suggested it."

"Really, Cal, this is unreasonable." Foster coaxed, using her usual gentle voice.

"No, not really. If he's not going home, then I'm putting him to work."

"I am not carrying him anywhere." Reynolds protested.

"I didn't say carry; I said drag." Lightman clarified, looking completely serious. Eli sighed, and was suddenly thrust into a coughing fit.

"Woah, don't infect the couch!" Cal exclaimed, seeming more concerned about the furniture than the person on it. He grumbled to himself then turned back to Ben.

"Come on; get Loker to the analysis room! I don't care how it's done, I just want it done!" Lightman ordered. Ben raised an eyebrow as he looked at the shorter Englishman.

"If you say so..." he huffed, eyeing Eli in a way that made Foster nervous. With one last deep breath, Reynolds grasped Eli tightly around the ankles and dragged him off the couch.

Thud.

Eli hit the floor, only groaning in response and making Foster gasp.

"What are you doing?!" she exclaimed as Ben continued to pull Eli across the ground, making a screeching sound as the skin on Loker's face and hands tugged along the flooring.

"We're getting him from here," Cal pointed to the couch. "to there." He gestured to the analysis room, looking bored by the occurrences in his office. "It's not that hard to figure out, is it?"

"This is ridiculous! Loker's sick, not intentionally slacking." she argued.

"Sounds the same to me." he replied, shrugging as he watched Ben haul Loker across the wide hall. Employees stared, silently wondering if maybe Lightman had finally murdered Eli and somehow gotten Reynolds to dispose of the body.

"What the heck!?" Ria yelled as she entered the office and began to walk down the hall, immediately seeing Loker being heaved across the floor by a nonchalant Ben. She jogged as best as she could in high heels, eager to address this out of hand situation.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, staring at Reynolds like he was about to throw puppies into a river.

"I'm getting Eli back to the analysis room. My understanding is that he asked for this." he replied, trying to look innocent and continuing in his task.

"M'face hurts..." Eli grumbled, but not really attempting to do anything about the fact that his face was slowly skidding across the floor. Ria gaped at Ben, unsure if there was anything she could say that wasn't already portrayed by her expression. Her head snapped to Lightman's direction, fire burning in her eyes.

"How could you support this?!" she yelled.

"He's the reason this is happening...." Gillian sighed. "I already tried to stop him." Eli smirked as he heard her answer. Well, she tried...but not very hard. It was as much her fault that he was getting nasty germs and dust all over the front of his shirt as it was Lightman's.

Ben grunted as he pushed the door open to the analysis room and dragged Eli inside. Cal decided to follow, as did the two concerned women. As they entered, Ben was just finishing lugging Eli up into his desk chair. Reynolds had tried to pull the researcher into an upright position, but the young man swiftly slid down into a slump and reached a trembling, tired hand out to the keyboard in front of him.

"I'm good." he grumbled, dismissing his support team. Cal and Ben didn't bother sticking around, having better things to attend to; but, Ria and Gillian remained, not convinced this was a wise idea.

"You really should go home." Ria said, folding her arms.

"Mmhm...." he hummed, but it was obvious he was ignoring her. He tapped a few keys on his keyboard, starting into his analysis of the videos.

"Are you sure you can accurately analyze those in your condition?" Foster inquired, doubtful Eli was capable of doing absolutely anything at this point.

"Yeah—cough—sure."

Foster eyed him suspiciously, as did Ria.

"Well, I'm going to make you some hot chocolate whether you want it or not." Ria stated, doing her best to look stubborn. Eli slowly turned in his chair, looking at her with his death-like stare and a smile. It looked creepier than what he intended, but it was hard to look otherwise when you were as ill as he was.

"Thank you sooooo much." he rasped, looking relieved that somebody was offering to make him the prized warm drink. The two women looked at each other, unsure if Eli was being moody or honestly appreciated their help. He spun back to the screen, keeping his gaze on the faces before him. Loker waited until the sound of their heels were out of range before he dropped his head in his hands, hoping it would still the spinning of the entire world around him. He huffed as he felt chills and aches pulsing through his veins. He was sick and he was barely holding it together, but going home meant being in a moving vehicle of some sort. He'd much rather sit in the desk chair and stare at a screen.

He lifted up his head and played the video, squinting as he tried to concentrate on the small microexpressions zapping through one convict's face. He blinked repeatedly as black fuzzed the edges of his vision. After a minute or two trying to focus more on staying coherent rather than the screen in front of him, Eli realized his head was slightly lolling with the weakness of his neck. Fingers of unconsciousness crept further into his sight and he desperately tried to keep his noggin up, only to fail miserably as he blacked out and his head fell to the desk with a thump.

Out cold...or feverish.

"Oh, yeah, I've got the ibuprofen." Gillian stated, holding up the box as Ria carefully carried the mug of hot cocoa.

"Maybe we should get him something to eat before he takes a few or something." Ria suggested. Foster rushed forward to get the door for Ria and minimize the risk of the young protégé spilling the hot liquid. Ria stopped in the doorway, puzzling Gillian.

"Eli?" Ria called, staring at the motionless figure slumped against the desk. Gillian turned around, her heart skipping a beat at Torres's worried tone.

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed, wanting so much to check on Eli's condition but also having a duty of keeping the door open for Ria. Torres solved the problem by setting the mug down on a nearby desk and flitting inward to Loker's side. Foster followed in the same manner, pressing a hand to Eli's head in an instant. She pulled her hand back as if she had just touched fire.

"Ria, get me a damp paper towel." she commanded, braving another touch to the young man's forehead. It was frighteningly warm, like his brain was probably being micro-waved inside.

Torres didn't waste any time to tackle her task. Almost as soon as the last word came out of Gillian's mouth, she was out the door and on her way to get the requested paper towel. As she did so, Foster made a quick call.

"'Ello, Foster." Lightman answered. If he was within arm's length right now, she would slap him for being so chipper.

"You get down here, right now. You can't force Loker to work anymore; you'll have to find some other option for him." she replied in a serious tone.

"Why, what's the matter?" he asked, trying to sound casual. But, Gillian could hear him getting up from his desk chair, which meant that he was most likely making his way down to the analysis room already.

"He passed out, Cal. He's too sick; he needs to be taken care of!" she growled, glancing at the doorway in hope that Ria had returned with the needed material.

"The bloke fainted?" Lightman inquired, now starting to sound somewhat worried of Eli's condition.

"Just...Cal, get down here." she ordered, pressing the 'end' button heartily. Gillian sighed as she peered at Eli's face, then looked to the door for Torres's arrival.

"Uugh...wha' happened...?"

Foster looked back at the young researcher, who was now squinting up at her with a pained expression and glazed over eyes.

"Oh, Eli, you're very sick. Perhaps it would be better if you go home." she suggested, hoping he would take her up on the offer. It was hard for a woman with her personality to watch an employee suffer so miserably. "You passed out while Torres and I went to get you a few things."

"Trust me, Foster...I wish now that I'd stayed home..." he groused, his eyebrows pulling down into an irritated expression while his head still pressed against the desk. "But that means someone'll drive me...and it's hard enough to deal with dizziness when I'm sitting still." Gillian pulled her best sympathetic expression and rubbed his back comfortingly.

"Don't you have anybody that can keep an eye on you?" she queried, feeling certain that someone so outgoing and expressive as Eli would have several friends to turn to for help.

"Nah..." he responded, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "They're all at work, or live out of town..." Gillian's brow pulled up in sympathy, saddened by Loker's raspy voice and rough breathing.

"What's the matter?"

Gillian turned to see Cal striding into the room, looking a bit bothered by recent occurrences. With a look at the completely exhausted Loker, Lightman exhaled loudly and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Heya, boss." Eli croaked, smirking weakly.

"I've got the paper towel!" Ria announced, walking past her employer and handing the damp item to Gillian, who promptly placed the paper towel on Loker's forehead.

"Oh, that is so nice..." he muttered, his voice thick with a hoarse quality.

"Can we move him to your office?" Gillian asked. "You have plenty of space in there and a good couch for him to spend the day on. I can take him home after work tonight." Cal looked thoughtful and opened his mouth a bit to speak.

"No, don't you dare call Reynolds." Ria growled evilly.

"Alright, alright...I won't call Reynolds." he mumbled, scratching the side of his face absentmindedly. "I'll help him into my office."

"Thank you, Cal, for being reasonable." Gillian chimed, giving her business partner a charming smile. Lightman grumbled to himself as the Torres and Foster helped lift Eli up from his desk chair. Cal wrapped his arm around his shoulder and tugged him along the way to his office. Once they were inside, Eli was carefully placed on a couch and Gillian and Ria were sure to make him as comfortable as possible.

They scrounged up a blanket from Cal's back room and gathered pillows from other couches scattered around the workplace. Ria warmed up the hot chocolate that was, for a moment, forgotten, and Foster found an actual cloth to dampen and apply to Eli's brow. Cal had long since left, clearly feeling vexed by the fact that an employee was sleeping and spreading sickness germs in his office.

"Is there anything else I could get you?" Foster asked after making sure she had just about everything covered. Eli looked more like a sick eight-year-old than a grown man, having his hands clasped over the edge of the blanket and pulling the fabric up to the point that only his brunette waves were visible. After her inquiry, he pulled the blanket down just far enough to have his eyes staring up at Gillian.

"Am I allowed a sandwich?"

His stomach growled.