Freezing

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Dewey woke up feeling sick. Not only that, he felt extremely cold.

"Aunt Frida!" he called out weakly.

Frida rushed in, buried in winter clothes.

"Sorry, Dew, the thermostat broke and it's stuck at -5 degrees," she said, her voice muffled by her scarves. "It must've made you ill. Louie, Donald, and Della are also sick, and I'm kind of taking care of them." 

Dewey covered himself in all of his blankets to keep himself warm.

"Could you get Webby in here, then?"

"Sure thing, lovebird. I'll go get her."

Frida waddled away and returned with Webby, who was also in winter clothes, but not so many things she was swimming in cloth. Frida waddled off once more, and Webby sat by Dewey. She opened the thermos, and there was hot soup inside. She took a spoon out of her pocket and began to feed Dewey the soup.

"I love you," he said, kissing her cheek.

"I love you, too," Webby said, wrapping a scarf around his neck and putting one end against his face.

Dewey felt warmth flow through his body, not just from the soup, but because he had Webby near him. They loved each other very much and---

"Webby, what are you doing?" a voice asked.

Both turned towards the door and saw Beakley.

"I was...just taking care of Dewey," Webby said. "He's sick."

"Why isn't Frida taking care of him?"

"Because she's...busy with Louie, Donald, and Della?"

Beakley looked dubiously at the duo, then walked off.

"She still doesn't know?" Dewey asked.

"No, and I prefer it that way," Webby said, going to close the door and coming back to kiss Dewey. "I overheard her say a little while back that if I was...dating someone, then she'd personally 'take care' of whoever I'm dating."

Dewey felt himself getting chilly again. He pushed away the horrid thoughts of Beakley finding out about them and strangling him to death, and kissed Webby to keep those thoughts away.

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