The crack of dawn, and the crack of noon came and went without so much as a twitch from Pickles. He was past the twitching, and headlong into the sniffles and sweats
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Miniver had managed to be dead asleep for all that time as well. He wakes up, in convenient narrative style, shortly after Pickles leaves the bed. After feeling around for a few moments in half-asleep confusion, he sits up abruptly.
"Sean?" he calls, an edge of startled almost-panic in his voice.
Miniver scrambles out of bed -- which actually involves, to be more specific, FALLING out of the bed, scrambling to his feet, and shuffling sleepily into the next room.
"Jeeze, you scared me a minute there," he pouts, looking adorably disheveled. "You okay?"
Miniver is not a morning person. Even when morning is actually afternoon. He yawns and joins Pickles on the couch, pulling the blanket they'd left there last night over his shoulders. He'd be back to functional order in 15 or 20 minutes, really.
"Did you sleep all right? And d'you want me to go find a grocery store for juice?"
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"Sean?" he calls, an edge of startled almost-panic in his voice.
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He'd had worse. Honest.
Okay, not really, but he'd like to have you think so.
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"Jeeze, you scared me a minute there," he pouts, looking adorably disheveled. "You okay?"
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Pickles finally found a box of cereal and grinned, opening it up and taking a fist full of honey-nut cheerios. Delicious.
"I wish we had some effin' OJ in here or somethin'." He sniffled, walking to the couch and flopping down on it.
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"Did you sleep all right? And d'you want me to go find a grocery store for juice?"
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