Jim's attempt to prevent her from getting out of bed, and consequently out of his reach, was foiled by the tickle in his throat becoming more of a rasp every time he breathed in. Burying his face in his pillow so as to not cough on her, and to try and keep from coughing up his lungs this time. Something hot to drink would perhaps not be the worst idea she's ever had, even if he hates having to rely on her to take care of him. Once he's relatively sure he can speak again, he lifts his head and gazes blearily at her. "M'kay... I think I've got some honey somewhere..." More coughing interrupted him, and he settled for waving in the general direction of his kitchen.