Back in Business

By: CrystallicSky

Disclaimer: I ain't got nothing, including Xiaolin Showdown.

Warning(s):As usual, pretty tame, but one use of the f-word (the f-word is FUCK). XD

"Spicer," Chase frowned at the lump of covers on the bed, "it is noon: you cannot possibly still be sleeping."

"Mmph," grunted said lump of covers, obviously dismissing his lover's statement.

The virus scowled further at being ignored and snatched up the edge of the blanket before tearing it away. "I will not tolerate-…"

The second the covers had been thrown off, Jack gasped and tried to cover himself, but it was too late: Chase had seen, and now had his wrist in hand, staring in shock at the bright red splotched across the white.

"Spicer…" he murmured, all but stunned silent at the raw-looking membrane. "What…?"

The common cold germ looked something a combination of frightened and ashamed. "I…last night, I couldn't sleep, so I went out. I figured giving this body a sore throat wouldn't be a total waste of time, 'cause that kind of thing usually helps with restlessness…"

"What happened?" Chase demanded firmly. "Who did this to you?"

"I got caught," Jack admitted. "I mean, that's not usually a problem, because white blood cells can't hurt me, but they had…they had a pill with them."

He gently tugged his arm from his lover's grasp, looking at the damage with a slight grimace. "I wasn't careful, because pills aren't supposed to hurt me, either, but then it got me in the arm with…whatever the hell that goop that pills shoot is, and…this."

The virus looked at the germ's left arm and commented, "It looks like the membrane was eaten away."

"It burned, Chase," Jack said, "it felt like my whole arm was gonna fall off." His form trembled slightly, and he looked up at the older being with wide, red eyes. "I think…I think they figured out how to cure me, Chase."

Chase sighed and stood, retrieving some bandages and quickly returning to the bed upon which his lover waited for him.

Taking the injured limb by the hand, the virus began spreading a salve over the damaged membrane. When Jack hissed and tried to pull his arm away, he chastised, "Hush, Spicer, it only stings for a moment, and it will heal you all the quicker. I have had my fair share of encounters with white blood cells, especially after…they had become immune to my fatality: this type of injury must be treated quickly if you want the damage to only be temporary."

The common cold germ was silent as he watched strong hands finish spreading the salve and then bind his arm with care.

"What's gonna happen to me…?" he softly inquired. "If the humans can cure me, now…what'll happen?"

"Most likely, you shall meet my fate," Chase answered. "You will have to give up infection; become dormant."

"What?!" Jack gasped. "But-but-but…I can't!"

"You must," his lover informed, "if you don't, you'll be killed."

"But I've always be active! What the hell kind of quality of life is it if I can't even make a person sick anymore?!"

The virus froze, and Jack belatedly realized the sensitivity of the topic. Before he could take it back or try to talk about something else, a stern golden gaze was on him, pinning him down.

"Spicer," Chase said. "Do not talk that way."

"I-I'm sorry," he immediately apologized, "I forgot-"

"Its not that." Jack paused as his hands were taken by the virus', mildly uneasy; he had a feeling he was about to get a talk. "I don't want you to speak that way because you remind me too much of myself when I went through the same."

Called it.

"When…I began to discover that bodies were becoming immune to me, I had the same thought," Chase confessed. "I thought, 'What good is life if I can't be fatal? What's the point?' Despite the fact that I am a…stale malady, now, I can see that such thinking is foolish: there is always a reason, Spicer."

The virus' eyes suddenly seemed softer, and Jack could only listen as his lover continued, "I did not give in. I did not do something foolish in an attempt to end my life because I could no longer do what I was meant to do. I lived on anyways, Spicer, and do you know how I was rewarded?" The germ shook his head, 'no'. "Fate gave me you: the love of my life. Spicer…Jack, you are the only reason I continue to exist: it is for you that I live."

"Oh, Chase…" the younger murmured in touched awe.

"I can only hope," Chase spoke, "that I mean enough to you to prompt the same courtesy."

The germ tackled his lover with a hug, promising, "No, Chase, you do mean that much to me! I..I wasn't thinking of…I wasn't thinking. I wouldn't do that to you."

"Good," the virus sighed. "Without you, I am not sure I would have the will to keep going. Besides," he smirked at his common cold, "you will always have your legacy."

"Psh," Jack scoffed with a grin, "what legacy? You have a legacy, Mr. Took-Out-Two-Thirds-of-Europe; I got nothing."

"You think so? I disagree; I believe the humans will always remember that you were the last, the only germ to resist their medicine longer than full-blown viruses like AIDS, and that they were even able to cure cancer before you."

"Hmm," the germ considered, "I can live with that. Who the hell needs to get people sick when you're fucking the Black Death, anyways?"

Chase laughed, nudging his lover onto his back and straddling his waist. "Well said, Spicer," he purred, "well said…"

:-:-:-:

"Freeze, infectants!"

Jack gasped as he saw the same pill with the SPD (Susan Police Department) squad that had gotten him a week ago fire a shot at his lover, superficially warning, "Chase, look out!" Naturally, there was no time to react, and he automatically moved to the right side of virus and took the shot in the back for him.

"Spicer!" Instinctively, the cell growled and lengthened the fingers on his left hand into claws, forcing them through the membrane of the white blood cell he'd been grappling with and giving all his attention to the fallen germ as the officer turned black and died. "Spicer, are you alright?"

"Y…yeah, actually," Jack realized, his hand reaching what it could of his back and feeling only the squishiness of the goop, none of the fiery burn it'd had before. "It didn't even hurt me!" Red eyes looked to what had been the white blood cell, and the germ gaped at the black puddle in shock. "Chase…you totally killed that guy…like, disintegrated him…!"

The virus was just as shocked, staring at his clawed hand as if it were foreign. "I haven't done that…I haven't been able to do that since the Renaissance…"

The police squad was gone, having realized that these were not ordinary, run-of-the-mill infectants they were dealing with and fled, which gave them at least a smattering of time to themselves before they would have to go elsewhere.

"Oh my god…" Jack muttered. "Chase, don't you get what just happened?!"

"Enlighten me," he demanded.

"I was an active germ and susceptible to antibiotics, but immune to white blood cells, and now I'm an active germ immune to white blood cells and antibiotics. You were an inactive virus immune to antibiotics, but susceptible to white blood cells, and now you're an active virus immune to antibiotics and white blood cells. Do you get it?"

Golden eyes went wide. "You don't think…"

"There's no other way," the common cold squealed, "we must have exchanged traits by osmosis with all the incubating we've been doing since I got 'cured' because I've been home more!"

Jack's excitement was tangible as he crowed, "I'm invulnerable, again! You're lethal, again!"

Chase was stunned as white hands were set on his shoulders. "Do you know what this means?" the germ asked, and the virus certainly did, wicked thoughts of reenacting his glory days already running through his head.

"I know," he said, "but say it, anyways; I want to hear it."

"We're back in business, baby!" Jack exclaimed gleefully, kissing his lover full on the lips. "Care to make the world remember why the Black Plague was one of the most gruesome events in history?"

Chase spared a glance to his clawed hand, glowing black as it always used to, and at the sight of it, a confidence he hadn't had in decades flooded his being and he suddenly longed to remember what it was like to kill. "Gladly, Spicer…" he purred fiendishly.

A/N: Because I remembered the movie Osmosis Jones, and though the concept is blatantly impossible, I've always thought the idea is kinda neat (plus 'Big Daddy' Thrax isn't hard on the eyes, either. ;D).

I've written with this general idea before in Anthology, but I decided to elaborate on it, because that's what my inspiration was for at the moment, so I did it. XD

Hope you liked it! :D