Secret Santa for catmuffinz

[glowstick03]

Hi! So...this is the Secret Santa for catmuffinz! I have written a couple of drabbles and a oneshot...I originally was going to just work on the oneshot, but I felt really lame picking just one of out TEN prompts, and I was inspired by PaperThings (who wrote all three of mine), so...I believe I did 5 prompts? Anyway...they were lots and lots of fun to write, and I really hope you like them, catmuffinz, and they meet your expectations! Happy Christmas in August!

~~~

Stowaway

Prompt: Historical. Early 1900s. An evil sealing ship captain with a cold who is planning to kill the woman who stowed away on his ship...until she starts taking care of him.

“Hih…hkt!” Saul stifled the enormous sneeze with difficulty, his hand jammed against his quivering nostrils and his whole frame shaking.

“Sir?” asked Felps.

“What?” he barked, his voice rough. He gave a liquid sniffle, struggling to dispel the itch in his reddened nose.

“There was a stowaway found in the galley, Sir,” he said timidly as the sea sloshed loudly around them.

“Not another one!” he growled. “Bring him up to my cabin. No man stows away on my ship and lives to tell the tale! This is a vessel of business! Probably trying to steal my best sealing spots!”

***

“Hkght! Hggtk!” Saul’s face ducked into his chest as he entered his cabin.

“Bless you,” came a feminine voice. The stowaway was a woman?

Blinking, Saul looked up to see a woman quite a few years younger than him, probably in her late twenties. She was incredibly beautiful, with long, dark hair and large, blue eyes.

She came forward quickly, wrapping a blanket around his shivery frame and stuffed a small cloth in his hand—a handkerchief.

“What—?” he began, completely caught off guard.

“Shh,” she whispered, pushing him gently down into his chair. “Let me make you some soup. Someone needs to take care of the captain on this ship.” She smiled knowingly.

Maybe not all stowaways needed to be killed…

~~~

Perfume

Prompt: Modern. A gang lord with allergies…have fun.

“Hitchhh! Hitchhh! Chhh!” Lenny swiped at his itching eyes, and then his equally itchy nostrils.

“Bless y—”

“I told you not to say th—hih…,” the aged gang lord’s face slackened as another fit brewed in his aggravated nostrils. Lenny was always in control—you had to be when you headed one of the largest gangs in the city—but perfume always managed to blow up this carefully constructed façade. “HIH’GZK!” came the first as he struggled to stifle the fit.

“Boss—”

“GET OUT!”

His two top lackeys scrambled for the door, pushing each other on the way out the narrow doorframe. The heavy door slammed shut behind them.

The rest came out in a rush. “Hietchh! Hietch! Hietchu!”

Damn perfume.

~~~

Steam

Prompt: Medieval. A king hires an ill mercenary to do his dirty work and he (the mercenary) is cared for by one of the queen's handmaidens.

“Here, have another,” whispered Leila, handing Adam a clean, soft cloth.

Adam dropped his used handkerchief to the floor and gratefully blew his nose into it, which provoked an irritated “Ksh!”

“Bless you,” Leila said, as she had already hundreds of times. Adam had been fighting his head cold for nearly three days now. Three days he should have been working. “I made you some soup,” she told him, smoothing down her silk gown nervously.

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” Adam said, reddening as the younger woman turned to bring the bowl to him.

“Please, let me care for you,” insisted Leila, not for the first time, setting the bowl in his lap, her golden hair cascading in front of her face. She straightened up as the steam rose from the bowl, tickling Adam’s already sensitive nose. “You shouldn’t be out working when you’re ill like this. Especially given the…task…you were asked to complete.” Her dislike of the king showed momentarily on her face.

“I—heh—hih—hih,” his breath hitched maddeningly, his red nose wrinkling as the steam worked its way through his sinuses.

“He thinks he can kill off anyone he wants,” she continued vehemently.

“Ekshoo! Tsh-tshoo! Kshoo!” Adam’s breath came in desperate gasps from behind the handkerchief he had brought quickly to his face. Leila, alarmed, removed the bowl and set it on the bedside table.

“Adam!” she cried. “I’m so sorry!”

“Chu! Hehishoo! Hih…hehgishh!” The tickle receded, and Adam blew his nose thoroughly before setting the cloth aside.

“Adam, are you all right?” Leila sat next to him; afraid she’d made him worse. “Was it the soup? I tried not to add too many spices…”

“Not just all right, better. I can breathe!” he laughed jovially.

Leila smiled nervously. “The soup…made you breathe better?”

“No, the steam! Who would have thought?”

~~~

Cleaning

Prompt 6: Modern. A woman working in a prison has a slight infatuation for an attractive, sneezy inmate. Can be from cold or allergies

Everyday it was the same routine. She flashed her ID card, handed in all her valuable belongings and potential weapons at the front desk, and then she was buzzed in.

She got out her supplies from the closet on the first floor, and then would start with the bathrooms on the first floor. Then the second, and then the third. And then she would start at the beginning again and clean the floors with the bleach-smelling industrial cleaner. All of them, save for inside the cells themselves.

Her day was dull. She knew that. Who liked cleaning? Who liked cleaning a prison? She got those questions a lot. But it was all made worthwhile when she cleaned the third floor.

She didn’t know much about it him because she’d been too embarrassed to ask. But she knew what he looked like…oh, yes, that she knew like the back of her hand. He was tall, muscular, had dark, dark hair, and pale green eyes. His tan skin was covered in tattoos. And his nose. Large, but not obnoxiously so. Straight, with an ever so slightly upturned tip. In her eyes, he was one of the sexiest men she’d ever seen in her life.

It was him that made her day.

It would start when she began cleaning the floors at one end of the hall, but it would get worse as she came closer to his cell, scrubbing away.

“Huhgeshoo!”

Just one first, and then the fits started.

“Huh…huhgesh! Hehgtsh! Hehngxt!”

She’d “enjoyed” sneezes a little more than the average person for as long as she could remember. He made her day, over and over again.

And she didn’t even know his name.

~~~

A Small Kindness

Prompt: Modern. A packed hotel, there's one bellhop on staff and he's got a cold or is having a bad hayfever day.

It was the same every summer at the Yosemite Lodge. Business started to really pick up in May and June, as it was generally agreed that those were the best months to visit Yosemite National Park, but July was when the most people came. Especially around the fourth of July. And it was always the Yosemite Lodge that got the busiest because it was the closest hotel to the famous Yosemite Falls.

This year, however, a couple of things were different on the first of July. One, Quilliam Quimby was the only bellhop on duty that day, and two, Quill had forgotten something important. Something incredibly important.

“Hinggk!” Quill sniffled quietly, rubbing his slightly pink nose on his shoulder as he pushed a trolley full of luggage and carried another small suitcase in his right hand. He sighed in relief after a moment, glad he was able to fight off his usual fit of six.

“Bless you,” said Mrs. Baldwin, the woman whose luggage he was transporting to her third floor room. She kept a tight grip on the hand of her small daughter, while her older daughter and son loped ahead, talking with Mr. Baldwin.

“Thank you.” Quill had a feeling he would be hearing that a lot today. Another insistent tickle blossomed. Maybe he hadn’t fought it off. He wrinkled his straight nose and crinkled his eyes half-shut, grateful that the Baldwins were unable to view his ridiculous expression.

If only Vic hadn’t broken his leg two days ago, and if only his hay fever wasn’t acting up. Well, actually, he would have been absolutely fine if he’d remembered to take the damn tablets, but Quill was absolutely hopeless when it came to taking medicine—even in the height of hay fever season.

“Mom, what was the room number?” called the older daughter as they reached the third floor.

“Um…” she sped up a little to stare at Quill’s nametag that was pinned to his navy uniform. Quill’s sneezy expression slid off his face immediately. “Mr. Quimby, what was our room number?”

“It’s…ihh…room three…twenty-sev…seve—HEITCHH!” Quill aimed at the shoulder farthest from Mrs. Baldwin. He sniffed, and Mrs. Baldwin’s flowery perfume invaded his quivering nostrils. “Hehetshu! Etshu! Heyetchu! Heh-nggshu!” Quill blinked, his eyes watering, as he rubbed his nose again against his shoulder, mortified. There were the other five sneezes.

“Bless you, Mr. Quimby! You aren’t ill, are you?” asked Mrs. Baldwin in surprise.

“N-no, not all. Just a few stray sneezes.” He smiled in what he hoped was an assuring manner.

Mrs. Baldwin smiled kindly at him. “What room, was it, Mr. Quimby?”

“Room three twenty-seven.” Quill scrubbed his itchy nose against his shoulder again, resisting the urge to sniffle. The only other thing Quill was allergic to was perfume...his lucky day.

“Three twenty-seven, Jamie!” called Mrs. Baldwin.

Quill could only concentrate on trying not to sneeze and look normal at the same time as he pushed the trolley down the hall. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the brass number on the left side of the hall. Jamie had already opened it with the card key and Quill pushed the trolley inside. He set down the suitcase in his hand, wrinkling his nose, but not breathing through it, struggling not to irritate it further. He let out a small “hitchh!” into his shoulder as he unloaded the trolley. It went unnoticed, as the Baldwin family had walked farther into the room, the kids testing the beds, and Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin enjoying the view through the window.

After setting down each suitcase, Quill rubbed vigorously at his pink nose, then straightened up. “There’s your luggage, will you be needing anything else?” he asked.

“Oh no, dear, thank you so much!” said Mrs. Baldwin, striding forward to tip him. He stiffened slightly, feeling his eyes begin to water as her scent came closer. She handed him a cleanly folded five-dollar bill.

“Th-thank you,” Quill said, trying not to scowl from the effort of keeping his nose from twitching.

Mrs. Baldwin smiled warmly at him. Quill nodded, and then left the room, shutting the door, before sprinting down the mercifully empty hallway and through a doorway that led to the employees’ bathroom on that floor.

“HIHNGGK!” He dashed into the bathroom. “Hyetchh!” He locked the door. “Hzgkchu!” He gripped the sides of the sink. “Etch-tchoo! Hih…” Desperate, he rubbed his quivering nose. “HuhCHOO!” Quill’s head nearly smacked into the sink. He took a few gasping breaths before succumbing to another fit.

Nearly forty sneezes later, Quill sat on the bathroom floor, dizzy and lightheaded. The sneezes were farther apart, so it was slightly easier to breathe, but his chest was still heaving.

“Quimby?” Quill’s walkie-talkie crackled to life. “Quimby!”

Quill wearily pressed a button on the side of the plastic contraption. “Yes?”

“Where are you?! We have four families checked in and waiting for a bellhop!”

“Hzgkt! On my way.”

“You’d better be!”

Quill stood quickly and crossed to the sink and splashed water on his face, resisting from rubbing his red eyes and nose. He haphazardly dried his face and ran back into the hallway, wheezing. He made it back to the lobby without incident, stifling a few sneezes on the way.

For hours, Quill transported luggage to their respective rooms, sniffling and sneezing as discreetly as possible. He avoided questions about his well-being, and snapped more than ever at the rest of the staff. Quill had never really gotten along with other people, probably because he’d been christened with the ridiculous name of Quilliam Quimby and still remembered his grade school days where he’d been taunted to no end. The hotel guests never taunted him, but more often than not, they would barely conceal smirks upon seeing his name tag.

It was all rather wearing.

“Bless you, son,” said one of the much older hotel patrons after he’d been unable to stave off a fit.

“Thank you,” Quill said exhaustedly. He sniffled and rubbed a bit at his nose. He wondered vaguely how many times he’d said that throughout the course of the day.

After collecting his tip, he walked back down the stairs to the front desk.

The young receptionist stiffened at his presence. “That’s all for the next hour or so, Quill,” she said frostily. None of them really liked him because he always so unpleasant, especially today, but he’d been there the longest, so none of them could do anything about him.

He nodded and went to sit in the break room. A few people were in there, but when they saw him come in, they all got up to leave. Quill didn’t care. He collapsed into a chair at the small table and out his head in his hands. He heard the others leave as the door opened and shut multiple times. “Chu!” he sneezed weakly after swiping at his nose.

“Bless you, Quill,” said a terrified voice.

Quill looked up, surprised, to see one of the new candy counter girls still in the room. She couldn’t have been older than sixteen. What was her name? Maria? Jessica? Liz? “Thank you,” he said gruffly. He looked down at the table, willing her to leave so he could suffer in peace.

“Uh…Quill?” came that timid voice again.

He looked up.

“Here…I thought…I thought you could use this.” She hesitantly held out a travel pack of tissues.

Nonplussed, he took it, staring at her.

“I…I hope you feel better, Quill.” She smiled shakily before leaving the room, leaving him alone.

“Thank you,” whispered Quill, when she was long gone. And for the first time that day, he meant it.

~~~

Again, hope you like them, catmuffinz

[obsessed]

Ohmigawd, I love them all.

That last one though.

How awesome is it that he had over forty sneezes in one fit?

And the CUTENESS of the ending. So many opportunities. <3<3<3

[everest]

Wow. I loved them all, especially the last one. So

[TheCakeIsAlive]

Ohmigawd, I love them all.

That last one though.

How awesome is it that he had over forty sneezes in one fit?

And the CUTENESS of the ending. So many opportunities. <3<3<3

YES!

And awesomeness!

[PaperThings]

All FABULOUS . I loved them all, but I think my favorite was actually Steam.

[ooo]

Ooh, these were great! I love that you decided to do a whole bunch of prompts My favourite was Steam, so adorable!

[Tarkus]

AHHHHHHHH!!!!! YOU'RE PERFECT!!!!

Every prompt...you did every one of my prompts. I can't thank you enough! All of the drabbles you wrote me were incredibly well written, hell, I'm still re-reading them after like 3 hours because I read something new and more alluring every time I re-read a drabble!

You have NO CLUE what awesomeness you have committed! Each drabble I read went completely beyond my expectations.!

= you

[glowstick03]

Yay!!! I'm so glad you like them all. They were quite fun to write those were actually the first drabbles I've ever written--so I'm especially glad they turned out beyond your expectations!