So taking a break from my other stories, I haven't done a Chatterer and Fleur story in a while so here is the latest one. Chatterer doesn't belong to me. He and the other cenobites belong to Clive Barker. I own the OC Fleur.

Summary: Fleur is sick with a fever. Flu to be exact. Title is self explanatory. Enjoy!

Fleur had been sick before, but this was the worst fever she had since she was eight. She sneezed for the one millionth time into her rapidly decreasing supply of tissues. Her mother Mrs. Lemarchand popped the thermometer into her mouth. When the device began to beep, Mrs. Lemarchand removed it from Fleur's mouth.

"Well, there's no denying it. You, little missy, have the Flu." She said, wiping off the mouth piece.

Fleur groaned as chills and pain racked her body. Mrs. Lemarchand felt bad that she had to go out today, when her precious Fleur needed her.

"I have to go out now darling. If you need anything, ring the maid." She said.

Fleur nodded slightly. Her mother blew her a kiss goodbye, as she left to go to wherever that she was going. Willing herself to move, Fleur lazily dug through her nightstand draw. She produced the puzzle box. Fleur solved the puzzle, and in a flash of light, Chatterer was in her room. The young cenobite hugged her close to him. Fleur smiled as she rested against his shoulder.

It was then that Chatterer stopped his clicking. Fleur wasn't as lively as she normally was. She felt very warm, and looked so pale. Why was she like this? Had one of the other members of master's gash done something to her on her last visit to Labyrinth that caused this? Was she dying? Hoping for an answer, Chatterer began to call on his master. It wasn't long before the elegant leader of the cenobites arrived. He was followed by Female, as always.

"Chatterer, what in the name of all Hell did you disturb me for?" Pinhead asked, annoyed at his progeny.

"Master, Fleur is really, really pale. She's warm, and isn't just as energetic as she usually is." Chatterer said, his words passing through as thoughts.

Pinhead sighed. He wasn't fond of having to educate Chatterer on everything about humans. However, Chatterer was still only thirteen years old, and Pinhead did take Chatterer under his care when Chatterer turned into a cenobite. So, he was rather choice less in the matter.

"Chatterer, she isn't going to die. Fortunately, or in our case, unfortunately, what she is suffering isn't fatal. It's a fever. Flu to be exact." Pinhead explained.

"We can make it fatal for her though, if you would like." Female said, as she scraped her knives together.

"Indeed Chatterer, we can adjust her current fate so it turns toward your interest." Pinhead added, as he sent a hook flying towards Fleur.

Fleur sneezed, and coughed, oblivious to the hook flying her way. Chatterer reached out with his hand, and caught it. He pulled the hook out of his hand and licked the blood off it. He looked at Fleur to make sure she was all right. He sighed with relief when he saw that she never changed her positon. Chatterer turned toward his fellows and his clicking became agitated.

"I suppose you longer need us here Chatterer." Female said, shifting awkwardly in her spot.

"No I don't." He replied.

The two older cenobites left. Chatterer was once again alone with Fleur.

"Chatterer…." Fleur said weakly.

"What does my girl desire?" He asked softly.

"Stay with me tonight…Please." She asked.

Chatterer kissed her on the cheek.

"I will do more than that. I will stay here with you, until you feel better." He then said.

Fleur grinned, and she snuggled closer to him. As long as she had Chatterer, a fever meant nothing.

The End.