Honda looked at his watch before heading for the kitchen. He needed to time this right, or someone might catch him. Glancing around, he made sure that no one was watching before slipping in. He snuck his way to the large freezer and pulled a small carton out from where it was stashed. He was quite glad that no one had noticed it hidden towards the back. Quietly pulling open a few of the drawers until he found what he was looking for, he made his way up the stairs, creeping unnoticed down the hallway and heading for a specific door. He knocked, then waited for the response.

Mokuba had just laid down after putting his computer aside when there was a knock on the door. His eyes lazily moved towards the clock, surprised that he was this tired so early in the evening. Figuring it was Isono bringing in another variety of over-the-counter medications, Mokuba slipped on the leather doctor mask he had worn at Katsuya's visit. No sense in getting Isono sick, especially when he was doing so much to bring his work to him. "Come in."

Pushing the door ajar, Honda peered into the room. Seeing Mokuba lying in bed, he smiled and entered. "Good, you're awake." Not waiting for the younger boy to respond, he slowly moved closer to the bed.

"Yes, no thanks to you interrupting me." Mokuba went to continue but was overtaken by a violent cough. He cringed, pulled off the mask and leaned his head into the sheets. "What are you doing here?" He asked when his fit was done.

Honda raised an eyebrow as he watched Mokuba coughing. Well, that took care of his curiosity if he was really as sick as he claimed. "I brought you ice cream." He held the small carton from one of the local ice cream shops up so that Mokuba could see for himself. "I know you said to bring you some when you were feeling better, but I didn't feel like waiting." He glanced away, unaccustomed to seeing Mokuba look so vulnerable.

Ice cream? Mokuba wasn't too sure if he could handle that. He had barely been able to keep his cookies down. Just the thought of moving to eat it made his head spin. But yummy ice cream melting in his mouth. Yeah, he could suffer through some pain for that. "Yeah, okay. I might have a little bit. What flavor?"

Honda frowned and looked over. He continued watching Mokuba as he sat on the edge of the bed. "I didn't realize that it mattered. If you wanted a specific flavor, you should have said so." Maybe this hadn't been the best idea... no, he had made his choice and he wasn't going to back down now. He sighed and shook his head slightly in defeat. "If you must know, it's chocolate. Is that acceptable?"

"I like chocolate. But, do you mind sitting on the chair?" Mokuba pointed over to a large, blue chair on the opposite wall. He really didn't want Honda to be close to him. Though maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to make him sick as well?

"If you want... I'm not sure why it's necessary, though." Honda handed over the ice cream and spoon, then got up and moved to the chair Mokuba indicated. "I'm not going to catch anything from you, I'm not going to try to strangle you while you eat, and contrary to some people's opinion I actually can restrain myself from trying to molest you in your bed. I think that covers all the usual major concerns."

"Well, I probably don't look very good right now. I wouldn't have even invited you in if I knew it was you, but since you have ice cream..." Mokuba dug the spoon into the chocolate goodness and took a bite. It felt like heaven inside his fevered body. He pulled the covers that had slipped down from his shoulders back up around his hooded sweatshirt. "Though if you want to risk being sick, be my guest. You'd probably actually enjoy it," he added as an afterthought.

"Heh, figures you'd say something like that." Honda smiled and leaned back in the chair. "Nah, I think I'm fine here. Like I keep telling people, I don't get sick, outside of hangover related stuff." He closed them briefly, then opened them as he thought of something. "I'm not sure I want to know what you mean that I'd enjoy it."

"You know, being sick is just..." He shrugged his shoulders and took another bite of ice cream. His free hand cupped around the cartoon. "Anyways, as much as I'm enjoying the ice cream, I kind of wish you waited until I felt better. I'll hardly be able to eat it all." Mokuba wondered what had made Honda change his mind. Who the hell knew what, if anything, went on in there.

"Fine, if you don't want it, then I'll be more than happy to take it off your hands for you." Honda stood up and strode over, ready to take the ice cream back if need be. "If you're not going to enjoy it properly, I might as well." This little visit wasn't going as well as he'd hoped.

Mokuba pushed himself up the bed as Honda approached. He stopped with a thud as he hit his head and upper back against the wood bed frame. The ice cream fell as his hands flew to the back of his head and ran down his neck, stopping once he reached his shoulders. He choked out a sob before he could finally manage to form a word. "Fuck."

Honda stopped, eyes wide. "What are you freaking out about?" He hadn't realized that Mokuba would react that badly to him threatening to take the ice cream. Was there something else going on that he was unaware of? He wasn't sure if he should get closer, stay where he was, or move away again. Since he couldn't reach a solid decision, he merely stayed in place and waited for Mokuba to tell him to move.

"Nothing, geez." Mokuba gathered up his spoon and the carton. A chocolate ice cream stain had started on his new sheets. "My sheets!" He rubbed at the stain with his sweatshirt sleeve. Maybe with some luck most of it would get into his shirt and wouldn't sink too deeply into the fabric. It didn't work. The dark stain mocked him.

Well, it wasn't as though Honda really expected Mokuba to tell him what was wrong, but it still made him uneasy. "Sorry for being concerned," Honda retorted sarcastically, stepping forward slightly. "Did you think ahead enough to make your sheets washable?" He silently hoped Mokuba wouldn't decide to try to blame him for this latest mess.

Mokuba shot an icy stare at Honda. "They are washable, thank you. But that means I can't sleep in them while they're being washed." He had yet to get more fabric for a second set to be made. Not that Honda would understand that. No, instead he made fun of him, and it was really his fault from coming at him so quickly. Another cough rocked him and he put up an ice-cream soaked sleeved hand to cover his mouth. His eyes widened for a moment before he swallowed, his face twisting in disgust.

Honda waited until the coughing was done to begin talking, trying his best to ignore the expression on Mokuba's face. "I should probably go take those to be washed as soon as possible then, so that they'll get back to you as quickly as mechanically possible." He made another step forward and stopped again. "Will the sheets you had before be okay in the meantime?" This was definitely not what he'd expected when he'd decided to come see Mokuba.

"No, that's okay." Mokuba waved him off and quickly added, "So how are you?"

Honda shook his head, not understanding the younger boy in the slightest. Giving up, he moved on to the Mokuba's question. "I'm just fine, aside from being rather concerned. There you go, since you were so polite, even though I highly doubt you really care, I answered your question." He gestured down at the stain on the sheet. "I'm sure you realize you should have those washed soon, or else they might permanently stain."

"I can afford it," Mokuba said around a spoon of ice cream. "Concerned? Oh, right, nevermind." He knew that there was something Honda had wanted to talk to him about. That was what the ice cream was for. His mind had yet to make any connections in its worn out state. Instead of giving himself a headache he turned his attention to Honda, who had somehow managed to get closer to him without him knowing. He really wanted to get sick, didn't he.

"Yes, but..." Honda tried to figure out what sort of statement would affect Mokuba. "But, they have an ice cream stain on them. They're dirty now. Do you really want to risk falling asleep with dirty sheets on your bed?" He edged closer, moving very slowly before pausing again.

Well, Honda did have a point there. They were dirty. Probably really germ infested too. That thought alone was enough to make him set the ice cream on the night table and start to get out of the bed. He wasn't going to sleep in the equivalent to hospital sheets. "There's some other sheets in the third drawer down in the dresser. You can change them while I go sit over on the sofa."

"Okay," Honda replied cautiously as he started stripping the bed. He covertly glanced over at Mokuba on the couch, trying to gauge how much if any was an act for sympathy. As much as it pained him to admit to himself, the symptoms seemed genuine. "I'm sure everyone's been asking you this, but have you gone to see a doctor? Or had one brought to you?" He started making the bed with the other set of sheets. "I'm sure with the amount of money you have, you could have an entire hospital's worth of staff and fancy equipment brought in, without any of the hassles and discomforts of a hospital setting."

"Yeah, people have asked. I told Isono that I'd see one Friday if I wasn't feeling better. I just really don't want to see one. Can't really stand them. Besides, I'd rather not have my room looking like one of those rooms." He watched as those blessed sheets were placed on the floor only to be replaced by some second-rate fabric. He gave a weak smile to Honda when he was finished. "Thanks."

"Ah, okay. Guess that makes sense." Honda sat down against the bed frame and closed his eyes. "And you're welcome." Opening his eyes to glance over at the couch, he noticed how fragile Mokuba looked. "Can you make it over here again on your own?" He didn't want to have to explain if Mokuba collapsed in the middle of the room.

Mokuba nodded and slowly made his way over to the bed. The trip exhausted him, and it took all his effort just to get onto the bed and gather some pillows for his lower back. When he rested back, the sweat halting from its slow descent down his back and now soaking into his sweatshirt, remembered what it was the ice cream was supposed to accompany. "So I take it you want to talk about Jounouchi, right?"

Honda blinked a few times at the sudden topic change before remembering why he had said he would be coming by. He'd almost forgotten while watching Mokuba. "Um, yeah, I guess... I'm guessing you'll say that your side of the story is wildly different from his, right?" He glanced over nervously. "Can I...can I sit up there, with you, while I listen to your side of things?"

"Yeah, if you want to." Mokuba scooted over to one side of the bed.

Honda gave him a small smile as he moved. Sprawling out opposite Mokuba, half sitting and half laying, he nodded for him to beginning talking. Honda forced himself to keep his eyes open, despite being tired from the late nights of file sorting recently. He knew Mokuba wouldn't take kindly to him falling asleep now.

Mokuba rubbed his forehead and then began. "So he wanted to learn the good ways to moan and I decided to be his teacher. He came over; I sat him down, turned on some music, and moved my ass to the music over him. And then I got a little turned on so I flipped around to face him. Then he decides to have a hissy fit and actually pushes me off of him. Me! I took away from my valuable time, while I'm ill I should add, to help him. And here he is, making me the bad guy." He shook his head and closed his eyes, angry.

"Yeah, that sounds like you." Honda's eyes started to droop, and he shifted to be more laying than sitting. "Heh, I dunno if I should be angry or jealous or what. Right now I'll stick with being amused at how naive that makes him sound. I mean, really, no offense, but any mention of moaning and you in the same conversation should be a pretty big warning sign for something sexual." He thought about this for a moment before chuckling softly. "So, I have to ask, who's more naive, Moki or Katsuya?" He glanced over sleepily, not noticing his slip of the tongue in using his friend's personal rather than family name.

"Jealous?" He didn't really mind the sound of that. Well, Mokuba thought, if you have a piece of me, there's really not much else to live for. "Moki's a genius compared to him. At least we've made out. I doubt Jounouchi's even done that." He glanced over, noticing his friend was nodding off and making himself pretty damn comfortable. Did he think he was going to sleep in here or something?

"Hm, that's true." Honda really, honestly was trying to keep his eyes open, but he was quite tired and the bed was so nice. He pushed himself up into a sitting position again, in hopes of that helping him stay awake. "Makes me really wonder what I'm going to do, since I don't think I can just ignore his feelings now that he's gone and told only everyone in Domino it seems." He wasn't sure why he was spilling this to Mokuba, but it felt nice to have the chance to just talk, rather than argue. He let his hand slide a few inches across the bed. "Your opinion?"

Mokuba was too busy looking at Honda like he'd grown an extra head to notice the hand. "Do what you want. I mean, why care who he's told? So what if everyone knows." Mokuba rolled his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. "I didn't think you would let other people influence you so much. Huh."

"Figures you'd say that." Honda let himself fall to the bed again, his hand sliding as he did. He noticed with detached humor that Mokuba's sweatshirt was just about in reach. "It's rather hard to just ignore something that big, especially if a whole group of people decides to remind you over and over." He turned slightly, bringing his fingers almost to the hem of the sweatshirt. "I don't know why I expected you of all people to understand anyways." He bit his lip, wondering if he should move his hand.

"Do you like him?" Mokuba had planned to add more but his throat closed around the words and his stomach churned. He squeezed his eyes shut in pain and waited for the feeling to pass. When he had woken that morning he thought he was better, his body and mind in a blissfully calm state, but after that phone call, and especially after a bare lunch of soup, he'd felt sick and had thrown up quite a few times. Luckily he had eaten his cookies in the morning. He hated to think of them in such an awful state flushed down the toilet.

Honda looked up, trying to think of a suitable answer to the question. "I..." The words on his tongue disappeared upon seeing Mokuba's pain. He sat up slowly, exhaustion forgotten. "How long has this been going on?" he asked quietly. "And how the hell did you keep people from noticing sooner?" Something was seriously wrong, and he had a few ideas what it might be.

He shrugged. "I don't know. But, whatever, I'm better now. I just need some rest, that's all. That's what Isono said to do. Get some rest and it'll all be fine. I don't think I'll be able to finish the ice cream tonight."

"Okay, if you say so." Honda didn't believe Mokuba was anywhere close to better or fine, but he figured pressing the issue would only stress them both more. "Can I take the ice cream then? I'll even offer to bring a brand new carton later, if you want."

"Yeah, yeah, that's fine." Mokuba was glad he let the subject drop. He'd heard enough from Isono and Lee already. Plus he was getting sweaty, and he hated anyone to see him in such a bad looking state. Maybe he would take a shower once Honda left. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. "When I feel better bring a bigger carton."

"A bigger carton? How am I supposed to be able to afford your clothes if you keep demanding I buy you stuff?" Honda leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "But then again, who am I to withhold something as sacred as ice cream and candy and other sweets?" He smiled and shook his head. "At any rate, am I getting kicked out now, or can I stay for a little longer?"

"You want to stay? Well, I guess that's all right, for just a little longer. And I know what you make, so I know you can squeeze some ice cream from that salary of yours." Mokuba lifted up the covers and slipped underneath. "So what have you been up to? Besides not getting with that nurse." He cracked a smile.

Honda mentally debated how much was safe to tell him. "If you've looked at the journals, then you already know just about everything I'd have to say. Lots of late night Shadow research, lots of visiting people in the hospital, talking to my cat, being yelled at, the stuff with Jou... and nothing to show for any of it." He glanced over at Mokuba. "So, any grand plan for Shadow?"

So Honda had been leading the dull life that Mokuba thought. That guy needed a hobby. Though if he had all that free time, Mokuba was sure he could find more work for him to do if he thought about it. "Tch, I'm not going to worry about him. Security is so tight no one could get in, not even him. Though, uh, what have you found out about him in your research?" Even if he thought he was safe, Mokuba figured he should know all the facts. His own team was too busy working on the cookie boxes to try and gather information on Shadow. And, really, like the guy needed any more damn attention.

Honda raised an eyebrow at that response. "Careful, you might start sounding like you're actually interested." He leaned back farther, much closer to laying than sitting. "I guess I shouldn't have expected you to have some grand plan of how to off him, the way everyone else on the journals seems to." Well, that topic had gone nowhere fast, though he hadn't really expected to learn anything. "What would you rather I ask about? Any luck yet learning about your secret admirer cookies?"

Mokuba sighed. "No, not really. I knew where they came from, but we haven't come up with anything about the handwriting. Something about the handwriting seems kind of familiar, though." He looked over at Honda and scooted down until he was mostly lying as well. He wasn't quite sure what Honda meant about asking about things. Probably not enough sleep or something. "Oh well. I'll be getting another box tomorrow, I think, and each one helps. I just hope I can keep them down."

"This is going to sound strange, but are you sure you haven't developed an allergic reaction to something in them?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Honda regretting mentioning it. "Nevermind, stupid idea, forget it. I shouldn't be asking about you being sick, since you obviously don't want to talk about it." He bit his lip as he tried to think of something safer to discuss, but came up with nothing. "I just remembered you saying that you weren't feeling well after the gender-switching thing, and I'm really hoping you haven't been sick this whole time."

"No, I don't think it's an allergy thing. I've had cookies from there before and I've been just fine. But the gender thing...I hadn't really thought of that. But no one else is sick though, right? I mean, I don't see why I would get sick. I don't even know what would even cause it."

"Like I said, stupid idea. For a moment I was remembering that someone told me once that occasionally people randomly develop an allergy to something they've been in contact with for years. I'm sure it's just my imagination drawing connections, rather than you being allergic to the cookies or the extra icing or whatever. And this being related to the gender thing is even more farfetched." Honda rolled onto his side and looked at Mokuba. "Though just for the record, if you start demanding pickles, I'm going to be majorly freaked out."

"Pickles? Why the hell would I..." Mokuba's eyes widening in realization. That would be impossible. Right? He had to be misunderstanding what Honda was saying. "You think? No, what you're trying to say is...that I'm. I could be..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

Honda burst out laughing. He shook his head and pushed down his laughter enough to talk. "No, I don't think that's it, not at all. Like I said, majorly freaked." He calmed down and stopped laughing, though he couldn't keep the smile off his face. "I was trying to make a joke, but I guess I failed. Maybe I should just stop before I say anything weirder."

"That wasn't very damn funny. You wouldn't be the one that would be, you know." Another wave of nausea hit him. It was clearly Honda's fault for making his nerves go all to hell. "Wait, you have something even weirder? I'm kind of afraid to hear that."

Honda shook his head again. "No, nothing at the moment. I just figure if I sit and think about it long enough, I'm bound to come up with something else." He leaned back completely, and moved his hands behind his head. "I'll stop joking, if that's really want you want. Not sure why you'd want me being serious though."

He sure was getting comfy. Mokuba yawned, closing his eyes and pulling the sheets all the way up to his chin. "So how long do you plan on staying?"

Honda shrugged. "I dunno, didn't think that far in advance. On one hand, you're obviously in no shape for our usual arguing and snarking and such, so maybe I should leave. On the other, your bed is very nice and I'm kinda reluctant to leave you alone." He stared at the ceiling rather than look over for the reaction. "I guess it's up to you, since you're the one paying me and all. If you tell me it's time to leave, then I don't have much choice but to obey. Puts a damper on the arguing we did before you hired me, doesn't it?"

Mokuba once again stared at Honda in surprise. He was being really nice. First the ice cream, then even making a comment about changing his sheets. Hell, Honda had actually offered and persisted in that. Now this? Saying he'd obey? He was being mocked, having this power and being too ill to use it correctly. Had Honda been replaced by a clone? Stranger things have happened. "Don't worry, we can make up for lost arguing time when I feel better." Then suddenly it all clicked together. "You came here just to check on me, didn't you. This wasn't about Jounouchi or ice cream. You wanted to make sure I was all right." He gave a smug little smile, rather pleased with himself.

Honda smiled slightly, but didn't look over. "Of course it was about the ice cream. You wanted it, and I needed some excuse to come in and bother you. It all works out conveniently for everyone." 'Besides, I needed to make sure Shadow hadn't stabbed you in your sleep,' he thought but didn't say. "You keep saying that everyone in the world loves you, so it only makes sense that people would be concerned that you're sick like this for so long. And even though you're so adamant about not talking much about being sick, you are. I do hope you feel better soon.

"You really don't have to have an excuse to come bother me. Not saying I don't mind the ice cream, and I always appreciate goodies, but you don't annoy me too much. So thank you, I guess." Mokuba smiled over at Honda, but he wasn't looking. That was alright. Another wave washed over him and he did his best to cover it up, gently rubbing his sore tummy under the blankets. He could tell he was going to throw up again. And soon. "I think that I'm going to go to sleep now."

Honda was rather deep in thought, wondering why he was suddenly being so open to Mokuba. "Oh, okay," he replied distractedly. It took a moment for the meaning of that last statement to sink in. "Right, right, time for me to leave then." He sat up and swung himself out of the bed. "I guess I'll see you later then." He gathered up the sheets left on the floor, as well as the carton of now runny ice cream. He still needed to figure out what to do with them.

Mokuba stared at Honda, wondering what he was doing just standing there. "Oh! Could you just put the sheets in the laundry room? It's downstairs. Somewhere." He didn't think he'd actually been in the laundry room before. "So, yeah, see you later. And you can take the limo to get home, if you want."

"Downstairs somewhere? Yeah, that really helps." Honda walked to the door. "Thank you for the oh so generous offer of the limo, I'll be sure to not lose my knife in it this time." He gave Mokuba a big smile over his shoulder as he pulled the door shut behind himself.

Once the door shut Mokuba slid out of bed, practically falling to the floor, and made his way to the bathroom. He barely got to the toilet before he violently threw up. He sat against the tile wall for a few minutes before rinsing out his mouth, climbing into bed and finally falling asleep.