I admittedly feel this chapter is a bit all over the place. But I was hankering to write a story on where the "When you vomit, I vomit" line came from. So, clearly, Tracy had to take care of Ted while he was sick. Which snowballed into a conversation about parenthood. Which led to... well, you'll see. But I really love this chapter, and had a fun time writing it. Although it took forever to get the words down just right. I hope you all enjoy it. (And I apologize in advance for all the bodily functions and fluids peppered throughout the story...)

"Ugh," groaned Tracy as she soaked in a hot bath at her apartment, Ted sitting by the tub, dipping a face towel into the water and gently pressing it to her forehead, and then down to her cheek. "I hate you so much right now."

Ted chuckled at the resigned tone in her voice, lacking in any hostility that she was clearly hoping to convey. "I love you, too," he said softly.

Five days earlier

"So, what are the official plans for the holidays?" asked Barney, taking a sip of his scotch. "Did you manage to get out of going to Ohio?"

Ted sighed and took a sip of his beer. He had been looking forward to his first Christmas with Tracy, but his mom really wanted Ted to come back home for the holiday. Plus, Ted hadn't seen his dad in a long while, so he felt it only right to go home for a week or so and touch base with him, too.

"Tracy and I discussed it," he said. "I'll do my thing with my family, she with hers, and I'll be back home in time for us to ring in the new year together."

It wasn't the ideal situation, but he and Tracy decided they'd be adults about it, and Ted figured that balancing their families during the big holidays was something every couple had to figure out. Their solution would come with time; he knew (and hoped) that they had many Christmases together ahead of them. For this year, he'd have a Christmas Eve Eve dinner with Tracy and her parents, and then drive off to see his family.

Ted coughed, and cleared his throat. It felt a bit scratchy, but he just brushed it off.

"You ok, bro?" asked Barney.

Ted waved it off. "I'm fine," he assured his friend. "What about you? Looking forward to visiting your home and native land?" Ted snickered.

Barney smiled coolly. "Laugh all you want, bro. Robin's dad is paying for a holiday ski trip up north, so I'm the winner here," he said. "I'm going to spend sexy evenings with my sexy wife by the fire and, during the day, I will climb atop Mount Tremble and plant a good ol' American flag in it. Those Canadians won't know what hit 'em!"

"Actually, it's called Mont-Tremblant," said Marshall from the iPad Ted had propped up on the table. It was almost midnight in Rome, but Marshall really wanted to "hang out" over drinks at MacLarens, so he was enjoying a late beer on his side of the globe, with a very pregnant Lily dozing next to him.

"Doesn't matter," said Barney dismissively.

"But we'll all be ringing the new year together at the Waldorf Astoria," Ted explained to Marshall. "WNN is hosting a New Year's Eve party in the Starlight Roof and rented out a crapload of rooms for its employees and their guests, and Robin managed to convince her boss to give her a two-bedroom suite for the four of us."

"God, I love my wife's work perks," Barney said happily. "Ted, remember to thank Robin when you and Tracy are having amazing New Year's sex on the best and most comfortable bedding you've ever banged on!"

"Barney, please don't picture me and my girlfriend having sex," Ted begged him.

At that moment, Tracy and Robin entered the bar, their hands filled with bags after a Sunday afternoon of Christmas shopping.

"Drink, please," said Tracy as she collapsed on the booth next to Ted and dropped her bags. She gave him a kiss.

"Ditto," said Robin, plopping down next to Barney and leaning her head on his shoulder. "God, I hate malls."

"That bad?" Ted asked, flagging down Carl at the bar and signalling for two drinks.

"I'm surprised we got out of there alive. And December has hardly begun!" said Tracy, shrugging off her coat, and looking over at the iPad. "Hey, Marshall!"

"Hi, Tracy," he answered, and then leaned over to nudge his wife awake. "Lilypad, the girls are here."

Lily's face appeared on the screen a few moments later, and she smiled sleepily at them. "Robin! Tracy!" she cried happily. "I'm so glad you guys are finally here! All this guy talk put me to sleep."

"Let's look at you!" said Robin. "How's the belly coming along?"

Marshall disappeared from the screen and pulled his laptop further away from Lily's face, showcasing her pregnant belly.

"Aw, you look amazing, Lily," said Tracy.

"Glowing," Robin agreed.

"Thanks, guys," Lily said. "But I'm admittedly ready for her to just pop out already. Four more weeks to go!" She yawned.

Marshall's face popped back on the screen and he chuckled. "And that's our cue to go to bed. Lily just wanted to stay up and see you guys."

"I miss you all so much," Lily said, a bit emotionally, her voice cracking. "Sorry: hormones."

"We miss you, too," Ted said. "Can't wait until you guys come home."

Ted really meant it, no hormones. Mind you, he was happy to have all this time to spend with Tracy, and they had a great time hanging out together with Barney and Robin. But he missed Marshall and Lily; he wanted to have stupid couples' nights with them, playing board games or enjoying some wine and cheese together. He wanted to talk to Lily sometimes and get relationship advice from her; he wanted to have a beer with Marshall and tell him how much he loved Tracy, and admit to him that he was going to marry her someday. Ted's life was plentiful and, finally, perfect now that Tracy had become a part of his life. But he missed his best friends. May could not come fast enough.

Tracy took Ted's hand reassuringly and they smiled at each other. She knew how much Ted missed them: she saw the way he got excited when the phone would ring and they were on the other end. She noticed how he'd smile and his voice would get all wistful when he shared a few anecdotes about them, always beginning with, "And then, there was this one time..."

But Ted was grateful for Tracy. And for Barney and Robin, too. With her, and with them, the wait didn't seem as long or as lonely.

"Same here, buddy," said Marshall. "Have a great evening guys! We'll talk soon."

They all said their goodbyes, and Lily and Marshall logged off. Ted turned off his iPad and put it away, and turned his attention to his girlfriend.

"So, what'd you get me?" Ted asked teasingly, leaning over her to sneak a peek at her bags.

"You still have a few weeks until you get to find out, so no peeking!"

Ted started laughing, which quickly turned into a coughing fit.

"You ok, babe?" Tracy asked, concern in her eyes.

"He's coming down with something," Barney said before Ted could answer.

"I'm not coming down with something!" he said, shooting a glare Barney's way, and then looked at Tracy. "I'm not!"

"You sure?" Tracy said, skeptically. "There's a crazy flu bug going around. It's already taken down three people at work."

"Same here," chimed in Robin. "Patrice hasn't been her usual peppy self lately, and she's been home sick since Wednesday. Which has been kind of nice, actually..."

Barney laughed, shaking his head and giving his wife's arm a playful smack. "C'mon, we love Patrice. And that includes her loudness and exuberance."

"Guys, I don't easily get sick!" Ted said. "My immune system is solid; the last time I had a cold was, what? Seven years ago? This is nothing."

Tracy didn't seem to buy it. "It's not nothing," she told him. "We're having dinner, and then it's back to your place for some rest. I mean it."

Barney laughed. "Looks like your woman's got you whipped, bro!" he said.

Tracy wordlessly turned an angry stare towards him. Barney sunk low in his seat.

"Ted, didn't you hear her? It's not nothing: go home and go to bed. Listen to your lovely girlfriend and, ah, please don't hurt me Tracy!" squeaked Barney, hiding behind his wife.

After a light dinner at MacLarens—Ted admittedly didn't have much of an appetite—he and Tracy made their way back to his place.

She insisted he get into his PJs, whereas Ted just wanted to get her out of her clothes.

Ted nuzzled her neck, trying to break her resolve. He saw her close her eyes and smile, but he knew his girlfriend wasn't easily manipulated, especially when she had her mind set on something.

"Babe," she said softly, pulling away from his embrace. "You may be coming down with something. You need to stop this thing before it starts. So I'm going to make some tea while you go upstairs and put on your sweats."

Ted sighed. "Fine," he said reluctantly. "I'll indulge you tonight but, I swear, if I'm still perfectly healthy tomorrow morning, you're going to have to make it up to me."

Tracy rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, honey," she said, heading into the kitchen to make some tea.

So he changed into his sweatpants and a t-shirt, slipping on a hoodie and zipping it up to his neck. Tracy followed suit a few moments later, putting on a pair of fleece pajama bottoms, a Henley, and fuzzy socks. Ted grinned: she looked adorable, and absolutely cozy and inviting. All he wanted to do was snuggle up next to her.

They settled down on the couch with their tea, Ted admittedly liking the feel of the hot drink down his sore, scratchy throat. The TV was turned to an episode of Family Guy, which Ted normally enjoyed, but right now, he felt tired and a bit sore. He began coughing, which was a bit more hacky than it was a couple of hours earlier. Tracy took notice.

"Ok, it's time for bed," she said.

"But it's barely 9:30!" Ted protested.

She took his mug from his hands. "Up," she insisted. "I'll be there in a sec."

Ted sighed, getting up and trudging to the bathroom. He did his business, washed his hands and brushed his teeth, and then slowly headed upstairs. He turned down the covers, and crawled into bed, sighing happily at the feel of the cool sheets. Maybe an early bedtime wasn't such a bad idea...

Tracy joined him a few minutes later, a glass of water in her hands. She handed it over to him along with an echinacea capsule. He shook his head, but accepted the pill anyway.

She settled into bed as he drank up, and then placed the glass on the bedside table. "Happy?" he asked her teasingly.

"Very," she said with a smile. "I just don't want you to get sick so close to the holidays." Tracy ran her hand up and down his arm warmly.

"I won't get sick," he assured her, leaning in for a kiss. Tracy pulled away, putting her fingers to his lips. Instead, she reached up and kissed his forehead.

"Sorry, babe," she said with a laugh. "Self-preservation. I love you, though."

Ted shook his head. "No sex, no kissing," he joked, feigning hurt. "Can we at least cuddle?"

She gave him an amused but pitying smile. "That, I can do," she told him. She turned off the light and rested her head on his chest, letting him wrap his arm around her. "But you're in for a rude awakening in the morning, babe," she said, cuddling up closer against him.

"I'll be fine," he said for what he felt was the hundredth time that evening. "You'll see."

The next morning, Ted woke up not feeling so great. His throat definitely felt tighter than it did the night before, he felt congested, and his lower back and hips were achy. He began coughing, which woke Tracy up.

"Babe?" she asked sleepily, rolling over. "You ok?

"No," he said stuffily, dejectedly. "I hate to admit it, but I think I'm sick."

Tracy sat up and looked down at Ted, placing her hand on his forehead. "Yup, you're feeling warm. Call your T.A. and have him cover your classes today, maybe even tomorrow," she told him.

"But I have to go to my classes," Ted told her. "It's near the end of the semester: I need to be there to wrap things up before finals."

"If you take care of this now, you can likely be back to work by Wednesday," she assured him.

"Ok," said Ted, not willing to fight her on by his. He hated to admit it, but he knew she was right. Besides, getting out of the bed was the last thing his body wanted to do at that moment. "Ugh..."

"I'm going to quickly run over to the drugstore now and pick up a few things," she said, getting up. "Jell-O cups, ginger ale, Benadryl, cough syrup... I'll pick up some canned soup for the time being, but I'll make chicken soup for you tonight."

He looked up at her concerned face, so eager to make him feel better. But he now empathized with her worry for him; if he was as contagious as she said he was, he didn't want her catching his bug. Besides work, Tracy was volunteering at a homeless shelter a few nights a week during the holiday season, and Ted knew she had to be at her optimal strength.

"No," he told her. "You should stay at your place tonight—I really don't want you to catch anything."

Her face fell. "Ted..."

"I'd love nothing more for you to be here, believe me," he said in earnest. "But I don't want you to get sick. You need to let me rest and get this out of my system."

Tracy made a face and shook her head. "Dammit, I hate it when you use my own words against me!" she said. "Fine, but you will call me tonight if you need anything. I mean it!"

"I will, I promise," he said, and then proceeded to sneeze into his hands. Repeatedly. "Um, pick up some facial tissues while you're at it," he said, looking down at his fingers, grimacing, and wiping them on his shirt.

"Ick," she said, making a face. "You'll need some hand sanitizer, as well."

Tracy left him with all the necessities he needed for the day, and then left for work. Ted then spent most of his day in and out of sleep, too sick and sore and tired to really do anything else. He occasionally got up to go to the bathroom or have some Jell-O (the only food that his system could tolerate), but staying awake too long only exacerbated the sinus headache he had and, worse, made him want to throw up again and again. So lying motionless in bed, in his darkened bedroom, under the covers was the only way he could get relief.

Tracy called to check in on him a few times during the day, Ted not having much to report except that he felt like crap. She asked about lunch, and he admitted the three spoonfuls of soup he managed to eat quickly went down the toilet. His girlfriend once again reiterated the fact that she wanted to be with him that night, and while he'd give anything to have her take care of him, the mere fact that she could catch what he was presently fighting outweighed the short-term relief her presence and care-taking skills would offer. He assured her he'd be a big boy. She didn't sound too convinced, but accepted his request.

Later that night, however, Ted seemed to get worse. He suddenly felt hot, tearing his hoodie off and kicking the bed covers to his feet; his entire body was sore, and he was starting to spend way more time puking over the toilet bowl than in his room. He managed to find a steel bucket in his supply closet, and kept it by the bed.

Tracy called around 8 for a status report, and Ted couldn't help but whine as he spoke to her: "My nose is runny, I can't stop coughing, my throat is killing me, and my whole body aches! And I'm likely going to throw up again at any second..."

"Where's your fever at, honey?" she asked him.

Ted sniffed. "About 98, last I checked."

"I'm coming over right now," she said, hanging up before Ted could even protest.

20 minutes later, Tracy was at his door, letting herself in and finding Ted sitting on the couch, arms wrapped around his bucket, looking absolutely miserable. She had a large thermos in her hands.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Soup," she said, sitting down next to him and placing it on the coffee table. "I made it when I got home from the office, just in case."

Ted sighed gratefully. "Thank you, Trace," he said. "I'm really glad you're here."

"You're adorable when you look this pitiful," she admitted, smiling at him. "Stay here for a bit; I'm going to run you a bath."

Ted pouted. "I don't want a bath," he cried. "I just want to get better!"

Tracy shook her head, laughing. "Robin was right: you're a big baby when you're sick," she said.

"Hmm. I don't think I like you and Robin talking about me like that," Ted told her.

"Aw, but babe, I'm the luckiest girl in the world: I have your ex-girlfriend at my disposal at all times!" she said, defending her relationship with Robin. "I get so much valuable information from her!"

"Like what?" he asked, not sure he even wanted to know.

"Well, she said you can't tell he difference between and real orgasm and a fake orgasm," Tracy admitted. Ted's eyes widened at that. "Don't worry, babe," she said at his look, smirking. "I haven't faked it since we started dating; but it's nice to know I can should the need arise."

"Tracy," he begged. "Your jokes are of no help to me when I'm this vulnerable, remember? Ugh, my head is burning."

"Right, sorry!" She gave an apologetic grin, and touched his forehand with her hand. She frowned. "A warm bath will reduce this fever a bit, and you'll feel better when it's done."

There was a tone of finality to her voice and, not waiting to hear any more of Ted's protests, she stood up and disappeared into the bathroom.

A little while later, she opened the bathroom door and gestured for him to join him. He got up, legs heavy, and dragged his feet towards the bathroom.

"Come on, take off your clothes," she insisted.

"I'd normally make a joke about how badly you want me right now," he said in an attempt to tease. "But, ugh, too sick."

"You've never been sexier, Mosby," she deadpanned, helping him pull his sweat-soaked shirt off.

Admittedly, there was nothing sexy about this particular moment, nor in the way she helped undress him. She was very nurse-like in her actions—quick and purposeful—but unlike any hospital nurse who has handled him in the past; her touch was loving and gentle, as it always was. It was a tender moment between the two of them, however, as she murmured soothing words to him as she pulled down his sweatpants and underwear, leaving Ted standing before her sick and naked, feeling vulnerable, but still very safe.

"You take such good care of me," he whispered, pressing his warm forehead to her cool one.

"And you're a tough patient," she teased affectionately. "Get inside."

So Ted stepped into the water, which was a bit on the hot side, and sat down, leaning back against the cool tub. Tracy sat down on the tile floor by the tub, gazing at Ted. "How does that feel?"

"Nice," Ted admitted, one of the few bits of relief he felt all day. "How long do I stay in here?"

"About 20 minutes," Tracy said, looking at her watch. "But do let me know once the water starts to cool."

"Will do," he told her sleepily, closing his eyes and reaching for Tracy's hand on the edge of the tub. She gave it a squeeze.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Ted trying to keep his thoughts away from the fact that he was sick, willing himself to feel better, but he quickly started to feel queasy. His eyes shot open.

"Babe, babe, the bucket!" Ted said hurriedly, sitting up in the tub.

Tracy quickly got up and ran to the living room to retrieve it, and placed it in front of Ted, who leaned over the edge of the tub and heaved into the pail. Tracy gently stroked his hair as he continued to throw up, but he then quickly felt her hand still. And then it was gone.

He pulled his face away from the bucket, glancing up to see Tracy now standing up, falling to her knees in front of the toilet, and lifting up the lid. Ted was shocked as she also began throwing up, and concerned, wanting to jump out and run beside her, to hold up her hair and stroke her head. But his attention went back to his bucket, as he continued to vomit too.

A few seconds later, they were both done, and they looked at one another, embarrassed.

"So," Ted began cautiously. "What just happened?"

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, blushing. "My body reacted to you throwing up, I guess."

Ted offered a smile. "Sympathy vomiting," he said. "God, you must love me a whole lot."

Tracy gave a self-conscious laugh, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'm kind of fond of you, yes," she told him.

They sat there in silence a bit longer, trying to digest what had just happened. "So, we just threw up in front of one another for the first time," Ted finally spoke up, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "It was bound to happen eventually. It's not a big deal."

Tracy finally laughed, flushing the toilet and crawling back to Ted's side. "I know," she admitted. "But I wanted to keep up the pretense where I don't puke or pee or let one rip in front you for as long as humanly possible."

"Can I let you in on a little secret?" Ted said, leaning close to her. "You've farted a few times in your sleep, so the secret's kind of out."

"Oh, man," Tracy moaned, embarassed, hiding her head in her hands. "Well, that's it: the magic's officially gone."

"Well, I'm still spellbound by you, so I say the magic's still alive and well," he told her.

"You always know just the right thing to say, babe," she said, touched, leaning in the kiss his lips lightly. "Your breath smells like vomit."

Ted chuckled. "So does yours," he countered, kissing her again. He pulled away reluctantly, remembering her "no kissing" rule, and sat back down in the tub, letting Tracy tend to him, dipping a face towel in the warm water and dabbing it on his face.

"You'd make a great mom, you know," Ted told her without hesitation.

"You think?" Tracy asked, moving the towel down to his neck and then his chest.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I mean, minus the whole vomit thing, of course."

Tracy laughed airily. "Well, then I'll let you deal with the babies when they're pukey, just in case." She paused. "You'd make a wonderful dad, too."

"How so?" he asked, curious.

"Well, you have a good heart, you put others before yourself, you have a very nurturing personality," she began. "And you have the lame dad stories down pat."

Ted pretended to be shocked. "I thought you loved my stories!"

"I do," Tracy insisted. "But I think our hypothetical offspring may not appreciate the way you spin yarns as much."

Ted smiled. He couldn't believe they were actually talking about kids so casually and easily. He didn't really know what compelled him to tell her she'd make a great mom; her concern for him, the way she jumped into action, how she just knew how to make him feel better... it just made him all the more certain that she'd make a great co-parent. Or, at least, she'd be extremely capable of fixing anything he'd mess up. Because, in all likelihood, he would. (Although her faith in him that he'd be a great dad warmed his heart.)

"So, how many kids?" he inquired. "Hypothetically."

Tracy shrugged her shoulders, suddenly shy, avoiding his gaze and pretending to be fascinated by the towel in her hands. "Oh, I don't know. As many as we're able to have; but two would be nice," she admitted.

"Two would be nice," he agreed softly.

Tracy looked up and smiled at him. She opened her mouth to say something, shook her head, and then simply told him that his 20 minutes were up. "You're free to go," she told him. "Towel yourself dry, and I'll get you some fresh PJs."

Before she could get up, Ted took her hand. "Thanks for being here with me," he told her.

"Anytime, babe," she said sincerely, reaching her hand over to stroke his wet cheek. "I know you'd do the same for me."

Ted smiled. "You bet," he said. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she said, standing up, grabbing his dirty laundry off the floor, and exiting the bathroom.

A little ways down the road...

Ted let himself enjoy the feel of the warm water as it beat against his back. He was exhausted and the spray of water was hitting his back muscles just right. But he knew the shower wasn't to relieve him, however good it felt.

He looked down at his daughter in his arms, who was fighting her first cold at just five months old. Parenthood was an an exhilarating and frightening experience all at once, but the moment Penny started having trouble sleeping the night before and began coughing, he and Tracy grew worried. And, admittedly, went into a slight panic.

But they luckily had a number of resources at their fingertips: his mom, her mom, Lily, Cindy... They called each of them for advice, and confirmed a few things with their pediatrician. Penny wasn't running too high a fever, thankfully, so they were simply informed to let her get plenty of rest and fluids, clear her nasal passages, and to just make her comfortable.

Ted and Tracy knew she'd be fine. But they felt helpless as new parents, still learning and navigating their new roles, hoping they wouldn't screw up in any way. Was it their fault that Penny got sick, they wondered? Did they not dress her warmly enough? Did they not clean her toys properly? Did they, without thinking, hand her over for a few minutes to someone who was fighting off a virus?

They knew that trying to find the cause was a fruitless effort; so all they could do as parents was make her feel better.

So here he was, at 1 o'clock in the morning, taking a shower with his daughter, holding her close to his chest, his body completely shielding her from the water as the warm steam encircled them, helping to clear her congestion. She had stopped crying for now, thankfully, but she looked tired and unhappy. You and me both, kiddo, he mused.

They were in there for 10 minutes, when Tracy entered the bathroom and pulled open the shower curtain. "Hey, pooh bear," she whispered to Ted. "I'll take her now. Dry off and meet us in the living room."

"Sure," he said, gently handing the baby over and into the open towel in Tracy's arms.

"Come here, Lucky Penny," she murmured, wrapping the towel around her, and exiting the bathroom.

Ted allowed himself to enjoy the warmth of the shower for a couple more minutes before turning it off, and toweling himself dry. He got dressed and joined his girls in the living room, where he found Tracy sitting on the couch, pressing Penny close to her bare chest, giving her as much skin-to-skin contact as possible, another tip from Dr. Segel. She gave Ted a weak, tired smile as he sat down next to them, giving Tracy's aching shoulders a quick rub.

"Ready for the fun part?" Ted asked with a laugh, reaching on the coffee table for the saline drops and nasal syringe.

"You do it, babe," she said, pulling Penny away from her chest and placing her down on her lap. Penny fussed a little bit at the loss of contact, looking up at them and letting out a tiny cry. Tracy gently tilted up Penny's chin, and gave Ted the go-ahead.

"Hey, Penelope!" Ted cooed, trying to get her attention, using an eyedropper to place a couple of drops of saline into each teeny tiny nostril, which Penny didn't seem to enjoy. She let out another unhappy cry, her lips curling into a pout.

Tracy laughed despite her heart breaking at the baby's miserable state. "She looks just like you when you're sick," she told Ted.

"Haha," he said dryly, handing Tracy a paper towel. He took the bulb syringe and squeezed the air out, holding his breath as he gently inserted the rubber tip into Penny's nostril and suctioned out the mucus. He expelled its contents into the paper towel, and he and Tracy both recoiled slightly at the thick, green discharge.

"Don't puke," Tracy warned both Ted and herself, as he repeated the process with the other nostril. More green stuff followed, as did more cringing.

Penny started to cry fully after that, Tracy quickly lifting her back up into her arms, rubbing her back and humming "La Vie en Rose" to her. The baby was unhappy, but at least her nostrils were clear.

Ted leaned back against the couch with a sigh, hoping Penny would now be able to sleep for a few more hours. Which hopefully meant he and Tracy could get some sleep, too.

Their daughter slowly began to settle as her mom continued to hum the familiar melody. Tracy used the baby's calmer state to nurse her for a little while. She was then burped, diapered and dressed, and fairly quickly afterward, she was sound asleep in Tracy's arms. They both breathed a sigh of relief.

"We did it!" Tracy whispered excitedly, giving Ted a tender kiss. "It's good to know we don't suck at this parenting thing."

Ted chuckled softly. "We're awesome," he agreed. "And she's awesome," Ted murmured, leaning down to kiss Penny on the head. "She was one miserable little patient, though."

She gazed at Ted with a grin. "Yeah... but, admittedly, she's a much easier patient to deal with than you are," she teased.