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Secret Santa for Seniorstatus14 (part 1)


TheCakeIsAlive

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Hi Seniorstatus14! And Merry Christmas. :)

I didn't quite manage to finish everything before Christmas was over, but I hope you like this first part. You asked for male sickfic and fandoms, which is rather a broad area, and I started out wanting to write you Sick 11th Doctor.

Instead my brain came up with this... So instead of a bedridden Doctor, I give you original male sickfic (now) and a female DW minisickfic (in the next week). I really really hope you like it and it's anything like you had in mind! :blushing:

This is original fiction, but when writing it, I more or less had Michael Palin in G.B.H. in my mind (mostly for how I pictured my protagonist, he's very much a different person though). You don't have to picture him like that of course, but it might be a visual aid. There may be a Doctor Who reference somewhere, but enough of the rambling: hope you enjoy it! :D

Holidays

The class roared with laughter as he jumped up from behind his large, oak desk wearing rabbit ears and a very plastic-ey pair of whiskers. He snuffled, crinkling his nose and crept from one side of the classroom to the other, in search of the end-of-term surprise that his students had hidden in some corner of his classroom. It was tradition, after all.

His cheeks were perhaps a shade too dark a red and his eyes looked more tired than they usually did, but that could easily be attributed to the general tiredness that settled over student and teacher alike during the days before the Christmas holidays.

One helpful student caught his attention for a moment and pointed out the right location with her eyes, having mercy on the poor teacher. A glance confirmed the silent hint and quickly a bee-line path was thought out in the right direction, taking express care to look eagerly in the opposite corner, eliciting more laughter from his students.

At last the surprise was retrieved and, after a most heartfelt thank you, the class dismissed. One student lingered longer, and he gave her an extra thank you.

"Are you okay sir?" She asked, her eyes large and curious.

His brow felt more moist than the exercise could account for and his breathing was a tad laboured, but he conjured up a confident smile and replied in the affirmative. "Quite alright, thank you Helen. Now off with you and have a lovely Christmas."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir, you too!" Her feet barely touched the floor as she skipped over the grey-tiled floor, leaving the room to him and his thoughts.

His eyes wandered once more over the room as he sighed and contemplated the term that had passed. His troop of little brats had been brilliant. He had watched them learn, grow, interact and even, on a good day, mature a little. He was going to miss the little rascals. Even little Thomas; more often in trouble than out of it.

His contemplations were rudely interrupted when his nose, which had threatened him with a brewing sneeze for most of the day, finally made good its threat and clogged up while simultaneously erupting with a most dreadful tickle. He snuffled miserably and buried his nose in his handkerchief, rubbing furiously. In doing this he regrettably forgot about the whiskers, bent by this action to assist in his inevitable defeat.

One hand tore them off, while the other was ready to contain the product his hitching breath must lead to eventually. The events followed each other almost without a break, the second getting an immediate repeat performance. He groaned as his head throbbed painfully.

Another moment and he stood up again, a last look, the final touching up before closing the classroom for a fortnight. As he turned the key in the lock, a fit of coughing overcame him. His voice suffered more than usually from the large amount of talking that came with teaching the 5th grade.

To the left and right he saw the same ritual performed over and over again, the long wistful look, almost nostalgic, the last wet sponges applied to the blackboard, the last chairs realigned and the keys turning in another 8 locks. A word of goodbye was uttered to every familiar face. The life, often seemingly more real, more involved than that outside of the building, interrupted for the duration of the holidays. Some would go to faraway places, others would prepare the material for the next term and a select few would just... carry on.

As for him - he thought while climbing on his slightly rusty city bike, brown leather bag secured on the back - sleep would come first, only thereafter would he contemplate what to do with the rest of his time away from the classroom.

The next morning found his misery increased tenfold. The scratchy throat had turned into a throbbing pain, slight congestion transformed into heavy sinus pressure and an ache settled in his bones, glowing forehead a testament to his frailness. A glass of cold water and lemon only partially soothed his swollen throat.

When he rose from the bed, his whole body groaned as if he had subjected it to the most stringent exertion the previous day. Muscles he had been previously unaware of pulled slightly, as if protesting even the slightest movement. The soft mattress beckoned almost irresistibly, but he persisted, knowing the effort would be rewarded when he could return to the sheets fully prepared to cease moving.

First of all, he engaged in that most British of activities, and put on the kettle. The satisfying rustle of water vapour along the spout pulled up the corners of his mouth into a content smile. Outside his window white clouds lazily drifted by, hiding the sun and pushing the temperature below 0 degrees Celsius.

Whilst the water was working up to its high-pitched concert, he raided his cabinets. The spoils were some breakfast cereals with milk, a couple of dry crackers and some tins of baked beans. A rather typical end-of-term ration. Not much, but it would do.

He coughed, every exhalation a knife-sharp stab along his trachea. Milk-soaked cereals it was. As he touched the cold carton, a shiver ran down his spine, bouncing up and down before settling everywhere at once, not least in his jaws, which responded by violently chattering together. Ah, the tea was ready.

He took a few minutes to arrange everything next to his bed, before carefully lowering himself only the soft mattress again. His skin was sensitive and even the smallest brush of the sheets against his skin ached as if it had been sandpaper. Before even picking up the spoon he had laid out next to the cereal bowl, his eyes fell shut again and he descended into a series of fever dreams.

Waking only to drink, cough, visit the bathroom and take a few sips of the ever-soggier cereal, the day passed by without him being conscious for much of it. It wasn't until the next day that he was much like himself at all. The fever had passed and the throat-ache had vanished, leaving him rather clogged up and mildly light-headed and stuck with a nagging itch. His breath hitched, only to be disappointed as the urge peaked prematurely and left him on the edge of an eardrum shattering sneeze, unable to go one way or the other. It promised very little good for the rest of the day.

With quite some effort, he showered, made himself a breakfast of baked beans and tea and settled into a large comfy armchair with a good book. Sitting upright cost energy, but made him feel rather less pathetic. Besides, that way he could see children playing in the street, his neighbour walking the dog, the old lady across the street attack the besnowed lawn with a shovel... it was good to see other people get on with their business. Somehow, it dampened the eerie silence that seemed to fall over his empty house at the start of the holidays. Opening a window and hearing the familiar everyday outdoor sounds lifted his spirits considerably.

As soon as the cold December breeze peeked around his window ledge and flowed inside, the draught tickled his nose into a prolonged sneezing fit. His stomach muscles were quite sore by the end of it, though the relief it brought was overwhelming.

Rather unfortunately, it was only minutes before the whole process started over again. Tears blurred the words in his book together, a matching stream from his nostrils threatening the book in a more immediate manner. He put the book away and replaced it with a handkerchief.

As the hours ticked by, he came to the conclusion that the urgency of replenishing his fridge had to come before his desire to stay indoors. With a deep sigh, he climbed the stairs to replace his dressing gown with a more conventional outdoors attire of brown trousers and a warm sweater over a chequered shirt. When he got to the bow tie, his doorbell rang.

Stumbling over his own feet, he managed to get to the door looking not overly dishevelled, taking a moment to collect himself before opening the door. His surprise only grew when the door opening did not only let in light, but also the familiar voices and faces of his students. Helen, Thomas, Katy, Drew, Janice, Flynn, Doris, David, Kris and even Sheila.

Without as much as a hitch, he snapped to attention. "Good..." a quick glance at his wrist, "... afternoon! What are you all doing here today. It's the holidays!" He smiled, a genuine, fond smile that lit up his whole face.

Thomas took a step forward. If he wasn't mistaken, that was partially encouraged by a sharp finger in the back from Helen. He stood silent for a moment with his lips slowly shaping words. "We uhm... we saw you wernt well sir and uhm... we brought you this." He stepped back and two other students produced a fruit basket. "We all chipped in sir." Helen piped up. "We went to the market together this morning. Do you like it?"

He took the basket and set it down next to him. Unbidden, tears blinked in his eyes. The unexpected act of kindness from his students touched him more than he could possibly express. "Thank you." He swallowed, his voice refusing to cooperate properly. "You are the best students any teacher could possibly wish. Thank you so much."

The children shuffled around, clearly eager to be running around again to stay warm and even break a sweat in the subzero temperatures. He cleared his throat, which turned into a small coughing fit. "Thank you, this will surely get me through the Christmas days. Now I can see you're quite eager to go and throw some snowballs, build a snowman or whatever you youths get up to these days." He winked at them, then sneezed. A few students had already ran off. The rest, as if rehearsed, called out, "Bless you sir, all and everyone", then giggled uncontrollably. He blew on his hands, getting colder by the second and smiled with them. "Well... off with you now, don't worry about me, I'll be quite alright. Thank you again, and Merry Christmas."

As he closed the door, he leaned back and smiled. He had the best job in the world. A sleigh drove past a few streets away. Merry Christmas indeed.

The End

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AHHHHH!!!! I started bouncing up and down in my seat when I saw this topic and I didn't stop bouncing the entire time I was reading! This was absolutely brilliant!!!! I'm so so soooo sorry for the vagueness of my request! I had never participated in Secret Santa before so I wasn't really sure how detailed to make my request form nor what to really include. It was only after I was sent the request form for the person's whose secret santa I'm writing that I realized what the form was supposed to include. So once again I'm so sorry, but this was seriously great!

His brow felt more moist than the exercise could account for and his breathing was a tad laboured, but he conjured up a confident smile and replied in the affirmative. "Quite alright, thank you Helen. Now off with you and have a lovely Christmas."

Awww! The concern from her is just so sweet and the fact that he'll fake a smile just to reassure his students is adorable! You may have made me fall in love with this fictional teacher.

He snuffled miserably and buried his nose in his handkerchief, rubbing furiously. In doing this he regrettably forgot about the whiskers, bent by this action to assist in his inevitable defeat.

Hehehe! I love it when they're just so caught up in their misery they forget about the trivial details (like wearing whiskers) and then they're made just a hint more miserable when they have to deal with what they forgot. Plus, the part about rubbing his nose is just mf_dribble.gif

His breath hitched, only to be disappointed as the urge peaked prematurely and left him on the edge of an eardrum shattering sneeze, unable to go one way or the other. It promised very little good for the rest of the day.

The fact that the ability to sneeze dictated how well the rest of his day would go :D Poor guy! He's so defeated and miserable. That just makes the gesture from his students even better!

Without as much as a hitch, he snapped to attention. "Good..." a quick glance at his wrist, "... afternoon! What are you all doing here today. It's the holidays!" He smiled, a genuine, fond smile that lit up his whole face.

Not knowing what time in the day it was because he was so sick, but acting like he was alright to his students....AWWWW!!! He's such a sweet teacher.

Thank you so so so much for this amazing story!!! I wanted to just quote the entire thing! It was all so brilliant! The detail to his illness , the characteristics of his students, it was perfect! And the fact that he had a fever was just so great! I love it when characters have a fever, it makes their illness seem that much worse and more concerning.

Thank you so much again, and Merry Christmas to you too!

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