by Amiroq
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Disclaimer: I've found that while forcing my problems onto Harry doesn't make them disappear, it sure makes it more fun.

The title is from a longer quote, "Love is a sickness full of woes, All remedies refusing" by Samuel Daniel.

Believe it or not, this is a drabble. I used the New Zealand monetary exchange rate for the words, which lets me use 250 instead of 100. The NZ dollar isn't too strong right now.

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The problem with Voyager, Harry decided as he pulled the covers over his head, was that she moved too damn much. Ordinarily he would have happily blamed this on Tom's piloting, but unfortunately, Tom was in Sickbay with the Doctor, trying to find a cure for this goddamned supervirus that he'd caught on the last away mission. So instead, he hunkered down under his blankets, trying not to think about food despite the rumbling deep inside his stomach.

From his muffled world under four layers of thick blankets, he vaguely heard the door chime, and emerged slowly. "Come in," he called, making him recall how bad his throat hurt. He started to reach for the cup on his nightstand before remembering that he'd finished the juice it had contained.

"You look like crap," Tom observed as he entered.

"Thanks," Harry replied drily, lying down again. "Why aren't you in Sickbay?"

"Believe me, I was being more of a hindrance than a help. You need anything?"

"Juice. And a cure. Not necessarily in that order."

Tom grinned, heading back out to the replicator. "Apple fine?"

"Mmmhmm," he said, deciding Tom made a really good nurse. He was feeling a little better already.

"You know, my mother always said you should sweat out a flu," his idiot lover continued from the lounge with a trace of a worrying smirk in his voice. "Want me to help you with that?"

Harry just groaned, curling up deeper into his bed.

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End