Phil slowly brought the mug of hot chocolate to his lips as Buffy swept her way through a crowd of vampires, watching as the stake rose and fell with ease. Her hair whipped round as she brought her leg up to knock an approaching nasty into the wall behind him (or was it a she? He could never be quite sure). Finally he felt a cold, smooth surface touch his mouth and took a tentative sip, determined not to spill a drop without tearing his eyes away from the screen. So maybe he had watched this episodes a thousand times already, and maybe this was the third episode already that day, but this was the price you had to pay to appreciate proper art. Maybe.

Wide eyed, he continued to follow the adventure on the laptop screen, not noticing as the sun waved goodbye through the window, as the red light on the charger changed to green, barely acknowledging the slam of the door as Dan dragged the grocery bags up the stairs, or the little click as the radiator sighed and took a nap.

It was only when he disentangled himself from the duvet and cushions and lions to press the button for the next episode that he felt the whoosh of cool air, and the little frosty claws trying to drag him out of his warm cave into the dark, dangerous world of an English winter night.

Frantically, he grabbed at the mug of - now - lukewarm chocolate, gulping it down, trying to regain the perfect Buffy watching conditions before the screen loaded. The heating must have turned off sometimes between Giles lecture and Willow's plan, he thought. Turning his head, he regarded the knob that could put an end to the blasted temperature, that just so happened to be on the other side of the room. Great.

Building up resolved, he slowly moved around beneath the layers, wincing whenever he hit a cold spot, until his feet were at the side of the bed. Then, he pushed himself forward, inch by inch, allowing his toes to be claimed by the unforgiving air, lowering himself to the floor. It was all going well - until he touched the floor.

"Crap, crap, crap, damn it," he muttered, yanking his feet back into the cocoon that was slowly becoming more and more colder. This wouldn't do. This just wouldn't do. How was he supposed to enjoy the action, or admire Buffy if it was freezing? Scowling, he hit the pause button. There was no way he could make it anywhere off the bed to fetch another blanket, or turn the gosh darn radiator back on, and the only thing within reaching distance were a pair of matching socks. Pulling them on, and trying not to notice the same pattern on both feet, he desperately thought of any other ideas. But it seemed that he was running out of options, and that life seemed to really hate him, and that Jack Frost was probably cackling with glee at his predictament.

Suddenly, Phil pulled himself up. There was something else! How could he have not thought of it sooner? Making sure that he looked suitably like a lost, cold puppy, he raised his head. "DAN!"

"What?"

"Can you come here a second please."

"Why?"

"Please just come?"

"I'm editing, Phil."

"Daaaaaaaaaa-"

"Fine, fine, hold on a second."

Satisfied, Phil slumped back down and waited. Eventually, he could hear the muffled sound of footsteps, and the closing of a door. Light flooded in as Dan pushed the door open, blinking at the darkness.

"Phil?"

"Hi."

Dan rubbed his hand across his eyes. "What did you want? I need to get this video up by the end of today. I already missed last weeks deadline, and you know what the fans are like."

"Um...I was watching Buffy...I just...um...I'm cold?" Suddenly, his simple request seemed a bit silly now, and he almost felt bad for calling Dan over. All he had to do was get up, dart across the room and back again, which would have taken less than five seconds. "I'm sorry, I just - I was too lazy to get up. It's fine."

Raising an eyebrow, Dan bent down and turned the radiator back on. Giving a nod to Phil's muted 'thank you' he turned to walk out of the room, yawning almost uncontrollably. Phil furrowed his brow.

"Are you sure you don't have any spare time, Dan?" He hesitantly asked. "I mean, you're completely knackered, and we've got the radio show tomorrow. You might as well take a break now. All the filmings done, I can help you with editing tomorrow, and the fans will understand. Besides, you're no good to anyone half asleep". He could see Dan beginning to give in. "And Buffy is about to kick ass." Dan laughed and rolled his eyes. "Also, I'm still cold".

Dan bit his lip, before kicking the door closed. "I thought Lion was your everlasting Buffy companion."

Tilting his head to the side, he regarded Lion in question. "He is, but he's not exactly the hugging type."

This time Dan seemed more amused. "And I am?"

"Aren't you?"

Just in time, Phil managed to raise the duvet cover to let Dan in as he launched himself onto the bed, causing everything to bounce around for a bit. He wriggled about a bit, moving around Phil, until he was behind him, arms wrapped around his neck and head on his shoulder.

Phil turned his head towards Dan's. "Thank you," he whispered.

Dan leaned in to brush his lips against Phil's, before resting his head back into a comfortable spot and shutting his eyes. "Wake me up once this episode is over. I'm making chicken stir-fry."

Phil grinned as his pressed the play button. The problem with winter was that it was too cold for one person. What wasn't a problem was that it was not too cold for two people.