Twenty Tales of Tisian (Hornblower, Forever, Fantastic Four, Other Ioan Gruffudd Characters)--tarotgal birthday fic 2024

[Wig_Powder]

This one's a little different from all the rest of the fics I've posted. The prompt in this case was 20 sickfic opening lines that tarotgal found on Liberty Belle's tumblr. After looking them over, I decided to have some fun and fill all of them with shorter ficlets, but to make it more interesting, I wanted to divide them up equally among Ioan Gruffudd characters. In the end, though, I wound up with 5 Hornblower snippets,  5 Forever snippets, 5 Fantastic Four snippets, and then 5 "wild cards", or snippets featuring a different character. To avoid this single post getting too long or confusing, I'm going to give each ficlet its own post within this thread, with the character/fandom on top so you can quickly scroll through to the ones you want to read. Enjoy!
~~~

HORATIO HORNBLOWER, HORNBLOWER MINISERIES

1. “Why don’t you let someone else take care of you for a change.”

Horatio looked up at Archie over the handkerchief. “What are you talking about, Archie?”

Archie rolled his eyes, though it was hard to tell if it was out of exasperation or affection. “I’m talking about the fact that you’re obviously ill, and yet you’re getting ready to go out on deck, in the middle of a snowstorm, in order to speak with the doctor about the condition of Jesper and Drispell.”

“They’re members of my division,” Horatio protested, “It’s expected of me to be aware of their well-being. Besides, Drispell’s one of our best topmen. Given all the wind and sleet, a man with his steady footing is e...ehh...eshhh!”

“Bless you,” Archie said, getting to his feet, “Since I know appealing to your health won’t do any good, let me try a different tack. You’ve sneezed half-a-dozen times since you started dressing to go up on deck, and I imagine that will only get worse after exposure to the cold air. Cornell’s going to take one look at you in that state and either force you to stay in the infirmary, or report your condition to the Captain. Is that a risk you’re willing to take?”

Horatio immediately froze, his anxiety mounting at the mere thought of being chastised by either man. Archie chuckled and rested a hand on Horatio’s shoulder. “Why don’t you remain here in the cabin while I go talk to Cornell on your behalf? Then I’ll return with a cup of something hot for you that might help chase away the chill. Your illness may still be noticed next time you go on watch, but you won’t be under as much scrutiny as you would be if you were in Cornell’s domain.”

The argument made sense to Horatio, and he nodded hesitantly. “Yes, you’re probably right. Thank you, Archie. I’ll return the favor as soon as I’m able.”

Archie squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sure you will. In the meantime, do me a favor by getting yourself back in bed.”

 

Edited April 18 by Wig_Powder

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JOHN GRAY, WILDE

2. “I thought I heard a sneeze.”

John looked up blearily, his fogged mind taking a moment to register the speaker as Robbie Ross. “I seem to be coming down with a cold,” he admitted, “I was hoping a drink or two would either help cure it faster or numb the symptoms for a few hours.”

“Any luck?” Ross asked, sitting down beside him.

“No,” John said ruefully, “If anything, the alcohol seems to be...ehh...setting meofffshhh!” He turned away and caught the sneeze in his handkerchief, unable to repress a slight groan.

“Bless you,” Ross said sympathetically, “Maybe you should go home to bed, if you’re not finding any solace here.”

“I should,” John agreed, “But I won’t. There are things besides my cold I’d like to forget tonight.”

“Ah,” Ross said, sighing, “You’ve seen Oscar.”

“Not intentionally,” John said, “But we bumped into each other two days ago. We exchanged a few pleasantries, and then he said he needed to take his leave, as he had a cold and ‘wanted to retire to bed, where he could suffer from it properly’. That brief interaction was enough to send me into melancholy, but then I woke up this morning with a chill and a nose tha...ah...ashh!...wouldn’t stop itching.”

“I’m sorry.” Ross said, briefly touching John’s arm. John rubbed his nose with the handkerchief, took a large sip of his drink, then said;

“It’s bad enough that I know I’m ill with the same thing Oscar is. But knowing that he’s got Bosie to look after him, while I’m left to muddle through on my own...that’s what truly pains me. And I don’t know who to hate more; Oscar, Bosie, or myself.”

His throat burned, and he wasn’t sure if it was due to his cold, the alcohol, or emotion. Clearing his throat, he downed the rest of the drink, then immediately pressed the handkerchief to his face to catch another sneeze. When he looked up, there was a fresh drink at his elbow, and Ross had his arms folded on top of the bar, giving him a look that radiated understanding. “It’s the least I can do,” he said, “And I’ll help you home afterwards, if you’d like.”

John nodded, wiping at his eyes. “I believe it would. And when you inevitably see Oscar again...do me a favor and tell him that I may appreciate him sharing his wit with me, but not his cold.”

Ross gave him a sad, understanding smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

~~~

Fun fact; this snippet actually has a very slim basis in movie canon. At one point, Wilde does, in fact, get sick with a cold. So it wasn't too hard to picture something like this playing out...

Edited April 18 by Wig_Powder

[Wig_Powder]

HENRY MORGAN, FOREVER

3. “How do I get this thermometer to work?”

Henry smiled faintly at Jo, just before launching into another fit of coughing. “It’s really not that complicated,” he said once he’d lowered the handkerchief, “I just put it in my mouth and let it do all the work.”

“Really?” Jo said, squinting dubiously at the thermometer, “How can you tell if it’s stopped working, then?”

“The liquid doesn’t move, or moves to a point where I know it’s wrong,” Henry said with a shrug, “Or it cracks and you have to dispose of it out of necessity.”

“What necessity?”

“It’s a mercury thermometer.”

Jo’s eyes widened, and Henry was gratified to know that this was something she’d apparently heard of. At least until she said, “Aren’t these illegal?”

Henry winced guiltily and was actually grateful for his fever, since it hid the blushing. “You aren’t going to arrest me for it, are you? I feel miserable enough as it is.”

Jo’s expression softened. “No, I won’t. But you have to promise me that Abe will buy a modern digital thermometer as soon as he can, and that you’ll either dispose of this or keep it for display or historical purposes only.”

“All right, I promise. But in the meantime, it’s the only one we have on hand, so it will have to do for the time being.”

Jo sighed and passed over the thermometer. “Just be careful. I can turn a blind eye for now, but if it breaks, I don’t want to be considered an accessory.”

Henry shook his head affectionately and slipped the thermometer in his mouth. While he somewhat understood Jo’s concern, he’d used this thermometer for years without issue. If anything, he was one of a rapidly dwindling few who knew how to safely handle a mercury thermometer at this point. Keeping it in his mouth for two or three minutes wouldn’t be much of a problem.

All was well for a minute, Henry counting the seconds in his head while Jo hovered nearby, waiting for the results. Then a sneeze snuck up on him, causing his whole body to snap forward. “Ik-tchhpfff!!”

The force of the sneeze caused the thermometer to fall from his mouth, though it fortunately dropped into his lap rather than flying across the room. Henry sniffed, then immediately checked it for damage. It hadn’t broken, but as he lowered it, he saw Jo giving him a pointed look, her arms folded. Henry smiled at her sheepishly. “Everything’s fine. Though it seems like I won’t be able to take my temperature until sometime tomorrow.”

Jo’s shoulders dropped into a more relaxed position, and she gave him a smile that was a combination of exasperated and affectionate. “Don’t worry, I believe there’s another old technique we can use in its place. I believe it’s called ‘feeling the patient’s forehead’...?”

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REED RICHARDS, FANTASTIC FOUR

4. “People don’t actually catch cold that way. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Reed sighed, massaging a temple, “Believe me, I know.”

“So how exactly do you explain this?” Ben asked, folding his arms.

“It’s just a case of bad timing,” Reed said, as the electric kettle clicked to signal that the water had finished boiling, “I must have been exposed to a cold virus sometime over the past few days, and then the rain lowered my temperature, allowing the virus to gain a foothold.”

“Uh-huh,” Ben said, obviously not believing a word of it. “And how, exactly, were you exposed to this virus? You haven’t left the Baxter Building at all this week, and the only people you’ve interacted with were the three of us, and none of us are sick.”

Reed turned his back on Ben so he could make his cup of tea, though Ben suspected that was just a convenient excuse to avoid acknowledging the truth in what he’d just said. “It’s possible Sue or Johnny were exposed to a cold while they were out, but were asymptomatic,” Reed said, “Or perhaps I encountered the virus while I was heading to or from the park, and the combination of the cold rain, my lack of sleep, and my less than healthy diet was enough for it to quickly overwhelm my immune system.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Ben said, “But that doesn’t change the fact that you left the building healthy and came back sick. From where I’m standing, I’d say that getting caught in the rain was, if not the sole cause, then the catapult or whatever you eggheads call it.”

“Catalyst,” Reed supplied, turning around to throw out the tea bag, “And I suppose that’s fair. It certainly makes more sense than genuinely believing that getting soaked in a rainstorm is enough to make someone i...”

He broke off, abruptly dropping the tea bag into the garbage with one hand as he reached into his pocket with the other. Extracting a clump of tissues, he pressed it to his face. “Ishhtt!!”

Ben chuckled and shook his head as he watched Reed retract his fingers, which had involuntarily elongated with the sneeze. “Bless you. Look, you believe what you want, but you’ll have to accept that us non science types are going to see things in a different way. And despite your best attempts to teach us the science, there are some old wives tales that just won’t go away.”

“Fair enough,” Reed said, rubbing at his nose, “As long as you put up with me at least trying to disprove those.”

“Deal. Now take that tea back to bed before Sue comes in here and starts this argument all over again.”

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MR. MIRACLE/SCOTT FREE, JUSTICE LEAGUE UNLIMITED

5. “Would you stop it? I know you’re faking it.”

“Are you sure about that, Oberon?” Scott said, amused despite himself.

“Of course I am!” Oberon said indignantly, “I’ve been your manager long enough to know when you’ve gone into ‘showman’ mode. And right now, you’re trying to make me think you’re sick so you can skip today’s rehearsals.”

“And what’s your evidence for that?” Scott asked, rubbing at his nose.

Oberon rolled his eyes, but answered the question. “It’s your sneezing, mostly,” he said, gesturing at Scott’s face, “You’re making them a lot louder than they normally are, complete with dramatic build-ups and pitching forward forcefully with each sneeze. Not to mention that you haven’t been wearing your cowl, no doubt to make sure I notice how red you’ve been making your nose. It might work on people who don’t know you that well, but you can’t fool me.”

Scott chuckled dryly. “You’d be surprised. On Apokolips, it was in my best interest to make sure those who were familiar with me couldn’t always get a proper read on me. And while both my upbringing and my current occupation mean I’m adept at lying, I prefer to be honest to those I’m close to. Which is why I swear to you I’m telling the truth when I say I’m sick.”

As if to prove his point, his nose twitched, and he pulled a few tissues out of a hidden pocket, hovering his other hand in front of his face to catch the sneeze if he couldn’t bring the tissues to his face in time. “Ah...hahh...” Fortunately, he was able to keep the sneeze in check long enough to get the tissues in place, at which point he dropped his guard, his head snapping downwards with a sharp “HIRISCHHH!!!”

Sniffing wetly, he looked up to see Oberon peering up at him with narrowed eyes. “...Hang on a minute.” he said at last.

He disappeared offstage, Scott trying to tend to his nose while he waited. Unfortunately, just as he’d removed the worst of the dampness from his nose, another sneeze forced him to bring the tissues back to his face. “Eh...hehh...HEPTCHH!!”

“Bless you,” Oberon said from behind him, “And take this. This should settle the matter once and for all.”

Turning around, Scott saw that Oberon was holding out a thermometer. Keeping the tissues pressed to his nose to temporarily ward off the sneezing, he took the thermometer and slipped it into his mouth. Ten seconds later, the device beeped, and Scott took a quick glance at it before showing the results to Oberon; 99.7.

“I’m so sorry, Scott,” Oberon said, “I’m used to performers faking illnesses or injuries when they don’t want to work, and I figured you were the same way. You know what they say about what happens when you assume...”

“It’s all right, Oberon,” Scott said, “I thought I was well enough to at least do a short rehearsal, but my body apparently had other plans. And I know we both want this show to go well. I’m not holding anything against you.”

“Maybe not, but I’ll try to find a way to make it up to you regardless,” Oberon said, “Now get yourself home and give me a call when you think you’re really up for working.”

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HENRY MORGAN, FOREVER

6. “I never would have asked you to go if I knew you were sick.”

“And I appreciate that,” Henry said, pulling his scarf a little tighter around his neck, “But I don’t mind. I enjoy my work; in many ways, it’s what I live for.”

Jo shook her head. “Maybe, but it can’t be healthy for you to be out in the cold like this.”

“It shouldn’t be for too much longer,” Henry assured her, “I’m nearly finished with my examination, then I’ll head back to the morgue and...”

He trailed off, one hand diving into his pocket while the other slowly rose towards his face. His chest trembled, and then he turned his head away from both the body and Jo, pressing a handkerchief to his face. “Aschhhhh!!”

“Bless you,” Jo said, “But that’s settled it. The only place you’re going after you’re done is back home.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Henry said, his voice muffled by both the cloth and his congestion, “A hot drink and a few minutes in my office should be all I need to...”

“I insist,” Jo said, “And I’ll go to Reece to make it official if I have to. Sure, the morgue’ll be warmer than the park, but it’s still in the basement, and needs to be kept cooler for the sake of your work. It may not make your cold worse, but it certainly won’t make it better.”

Henry reluctantly conceded her point with a faint nod, but wasn’t about to give up just yet. “That may be true, but I doubt it will kill me. Besides, I was under the impression we wanted this case solved as fast as possible. If I take a day or two to recover, that increases the odds of the trail going cold.”

“Trust me, I know,” Jo said, “That’s the reason I asked you to come out here in the first place. But...well, our victim’s already dead. There’s not much more we can do for him, and he’ll keep until you’re better. Meanwhile, you’re alive and miserable, and there are things we can do to fix that.”

“But...”

“Please, Henry. While you’re resting, Hanson and I can follow up on leads and try to eliminate suspects, at the very least. If something gets revealed in the autopsy that cracks the case, it’ll be an unfortunate delay, but not an impossible one. Besides, what happens if you sneeze in the middle of an incision? Or if your mind’s so fogged you fail to notice something tiny? I think we’d all be happier if you were at your best during the autopsy.”

Henry let out a short chuckle. “Ah, you’ve stumbled upon my weakness; appeal to vanity rather than appeal to health. Very well—once we’re done here, I’ll take the rest of today off and see how I feel in the morning. In the meantime, I’d suggest you and Hanson start your investigation by asking around at the nearby Italian restaurants to see if they saw our victim last night. Check the menus to see which ones serve dishes that contain both alfredo sauce and mushrooms.”

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HORATIO HORNBLOWER, HORNBLOWER MINISERIES

7. “I can’t take your temperature unless you come out from under there.”

“Which is precisely why I intend to remain where I am,” Horatio responded, “If I take my head from the covers, you’ll pounce, try to argue that I have a fever, and then attempt to drag me to the infirmary. I wouldn’t be surprised if you did that no matter how my forehead felt, just to try to prove a point.”

He heard Archie huff in amusement, which did slightly assuage the pang of guilt in his chest. “I’m not inclined to be that devious at present. But you do realize that by refusing to let me check you for fever, you’re only increasing my suspicions that you are, in fact, sicker than you’ve been letting on?”

“I won’t deny that I’ve felt a bit run-down these past two days...”

“Horatio Hornblower, admitting to weakness? Will wonders never cease?” Archie interrupted playfully.

“...But I haven’t felt excessively chilled,” Horatio continued, “I certainly feel well enough to continue with my duties, and I’d appreciate if you believed me on that rather than declaring me unfit to work the minute I sneeze too excessively for your tastes.”

“I do believe you, Horatio,” Archie said, “In fact, I believe you’d ‘continue with your duties’ as long as you had the strength to stand. The problem is, you have a habit of letting a mild chill turn into something much worse if it’s not tended to. As your friend, I feel both duty and honor bound to prevent that from happening. Wouldn’t you do the same for me, if we were able to spot the signs that one of my fits was approaching?”

The pang of guilt intensified at that. “I would,” Horatio said with a sigh, “All right. You win.”

With that, he sat up, removing the blankets from over his head. Exposing his skin to the cooler air of their quarters caused his nose to prickle, forcing him to wave Archie away as he brought his handkerchief to his face. “Et-tshhh!”

“Bless you,” Archie said, before carefully pressing his palm to Horatio’s forehead. He tilted his head, considering, then repeated the gesture with the back of his hand. “Hmm...you do feel warm.” Just as Horatio was rolling his eyes and preparing to sigh again, Archie added “But since you’ve been hiding under the covers for a good five minutes, the heat might be due to that. As long as you’re willing to spend your off hours resting, I might be persuaded not to take you to Doctor Cornell for the time being.”

Horatio felt a rush of gratitude. “That seems like a fair trade.” he said with a smile.

“I still fully intend to keep an eye on you,” Archie warned as Horatio got out of his hammock, “Any sign of shivering or flushed cheeks, and I’ll alert one of the senior lieutenants to your condition. Do I make myself clear?”

“Quite clear, Mr. Kennedy,” Horatio said, crossing over to his seachest, “But rest assured, I don’t believe it will come to that. As long as I eat, drink, and sleep as well as the ship will allow, I should be back to myself within a day or two.”

“Let’s do our best to make sure of that,” Archie said, “Starting with you putting on one of your thicker shirts to keep any potential chill at bay.” Shaking his head in fond exasperation, Horatio complied.

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REED RICHARDS, FANTASTIC FOUR

8. “I promise I’ll make this up to you.”

Sue shook her head, unsure if she was doing it out of amusement or exasperation. “That was what you said last week, when our plans to go out for my birthday were interrupted by Diablo arriving in town and wreaking havoc.”

“To be fair, I did my best to keep my word,” Reed said, as he set the thermometer on the bedside table, “I marked the date on my calendar, made sure to spend the week working on repairing or improving older projects rather than starting something new, and made sure to bring my dress suit to the lab, so I could quickly change into it. I even ordered a bouquet of sunflowers for you, as a surprise for you and a reminder for me.”

Sue smiled at that. “That’s true. And they’re beautiful, by the way.”

Reed smiled back, only for the smile to drop from his face as he rapidly snatched a tissue from the nearby box and brought it to his face. “Ep-tkshh!”

His back arched forward by a few inches, but fortunately that was the extent of the stretch. But just to be safe, Sue waited until Reed had settled himself back in bed before saying “Bless you.”

Reed nodded and sighed, picking up where he’d left off. “None of us would have guessed that the Mole Man would have picked yesterday to emerge topside with another grudge against New York. Or that the fight would end up knocking me into an underground lake, exacerbating whatever cold virus was in my system. If it hadn’t been for that, I’d probably be in the process of changing clothes as we speak.”

Sue raised an eyebrow. “If you did have some sort of virus, wouldn’t it have appeared regardless of your dip?”

“Maybe,” Reed acknowledged, rubbing at his nose, “But it very well could have been weak enough that my immune system could have fought it off, leaving me none the wiser, or perhaps with very mild symptoms that passed after twenty-four hours. It all depends on if I’ve had this particular virus, or a similar one, before.”

“And if you hadn’t?”

Reed grinned ruefully. “Then we’d probably be having a very similar conversation, only the culprit would be me not getting enough sleep or food in my system. But I’d like to think that wouldn’t have happened. Despite all appearances, I do try to take care of myself. Especially when I have something important coming up.”

Sue sighed, although this time, she knew it was out of affection. “I’m glad to hear that. And I hope you keep that in mind for the next few weeks, both as you recover and as we prepare to try this again. Third time’s the charm, right?”

“Right,” Reed said, giving her an appreciative smile, “I’ll make the arrangements as soon as the worst of the congestion has passed.”

“Sounds good,” Sue said, “In the here and now, though, get some rest. I’ll get you a drink and something to occupy your brain.”

(While she was in the kitchen, she updated Johnny and Ben on the situation. They immediately began making bets on which villain would end up interrupting their date. Sue gave them a glare, but then immediately put five dollars on Annihilus. If she couldn’t get her date, she could at least try to make some money out of this.)

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HORATIO HORNBLOWER, HORNBLOWER MINISERIES

9. “You’re shaking like a leaf!”

It was useless for Horatio to deny it, especially since he had pulled his cloak around himself and wrapped his arms around his chest in an attempt to retain some extra warmth. Instead, he took a deep breath and spoke carefully, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. “Given the temperature on deck, you shouldn’t be surprised by that.”

“No one else is shivering the same way you are,” Archie responded, “And some of them aren’t wearing a cloak, gloves, scarf, and hat, whereas you have all of those and, unless I’m very much mistaken, have wrapped your blanket around your midsection as well.”

Horatio flushed but didn’t deny it. He did attempt to clear his throat in preparation for changing the subject, but the motion caused him to cough instead, forcing him to withdraw his handkerchief and press it to his face. When he glanced back at Archie, he saw a look of both concern and exasperation pass across his friend’s face. “You’re ill, aren’t you?”

Horatio knew he could try to pass everything off as a sensitivity to the cold (which Archie knew held some truth) and that the cough had been due to swallowing some air, but he also knew Archie would continue to press the issue, or go out of his way to look in on Horatio until he caught Horatio out in a lie. And with rumors of a French ship in the area, no one, much less an officer, could afford to be distracted. So, sighing reluctantly, he nodded, not wanting to say it aloud and openly admit to it.

Archie’s expression immediately softened, and he put a soothing hand on Horatio’s back. “How long?”

“Hard to say, given this weather,” Horatio said, “I’ve been chilled and suffered from a damp nose for the past three days. But...the cold today’s felt more biting, and I’ve felt more twinges and itches in my nose and throat than I did yesterday.” Even as he said it, one such itch flared up in his nose, and he quickly returned the handkerchief to his face. “Ih-kshht!”

“Bless you,” Archie said, squeezing Horatio’s shoulder, “I know we need all hands on deck, so I won’t badger you to get some rest. But will you promise me that you’ll visit Doctor Cornell when your watch is over to see if he can give you something to make your illness a little more bearable? He knows the situation, so he’s unlikely to take you off duty, and his medicine might allow you to feel warmer and more alert.”

Horatio nodded. “That seems like the best course of action for now. And I further promise you that, once we’ve engaged the enemy, I’ll spend all my spare time in our quarters, doing my best to rest and recover.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Archie said, giving Horatio’s shoulder one last squeeze before moving away, “Although knowing Fate and your own tendencies, I imagine your promise will be bolstered by an order from Cornell...”

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REED RICHARDS, FANTASTIC FOUR

10. “Bless you! That was a good one.”

Reed looked up at Ben with a wry smile. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

Ben grinned. “Depends. If you look at it from a scientific perspective, you’d probably approve. I think that’s the farthest I’ve ever seen your arm stretch due to a sneeze.”

Reed glanced to his left, noting with a combination of fascination and concern that his arm had extended all the way across the couch and past the side table, a distance of about three feet. “You’re right,” he said, “That may well be a record. Then again, that was a harsher sneeze than usual. I have a feeling there’s a correlation between the two.”

“Uh-oh,” Ben said, chuckling, “Does that mean you’re going to be spending a few days in your lab testing your hypothesis?”

“Probably,” Reed acknowledged, “But I’ll wait until after this cold has left my system. It will probably end up skewing the results. Though it might be beneficial to test this out with sneezes that come due to illness and those that come from external stimuli...”

Any further musing (or teasing on Ben’s part) was quickly dropped when Reed’s breath caught. Reed promptly pressed another tissue to his face and braced himself, while Ben took a step back, just in case. “Hah...Hah-KSHHHTT!!”

Reed’s arm, which he’d managed to retract back to the base of the couch, shot back to its normal length with an audible zipp sound. “Bless you,” Ben said again, as Reed lowered the tissue and grimaced, “You ok?”

“I’m fine,” Reed said, “It’s always uncomfortable when that happens, but I think the new nature of my body means that I can’t suffer from more traditional damage. No broken bones, no dislocated joints, no sprains...”

“What about whiplash?” Ben asked, only half-joking.

“That’s a fair question,” Reed said, “But I doubt it. Though for once, I don’t think I’ll actually try to test that out.”

Ben mock-gasped. “You must be sicker than I thought. Maybe you need to take your temperature again. Either that, or your meds are really doin’ a number on you.”

That got Reed to laugh, although it was interrupted by a bout of coughing. “Sorry, Stretch,” Ben said, “But I had to.”

“I know,” Reed said, “And I don’t mind. I deserve a bit of laughter at my expense to keep me grounded now and then. Besides, it helps me test out a different hypothesis.”

“And which one would that be?”

Reed grinned. “Whether or not laughter really is the best medicine.”

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HENRY MORGAN, FOREVER

11. “Can I at least have a blanket?”
“Sorry, Henry,” Abe said, his tone hovering somewhere between apologetic and annoyed, “The blanket’s still in the laundry room, waiting to be washed after your last resurrection.”

“Can I help it that this case has required me to put myself at risk a little more than usual?” Henry responded, rubbing at his arms and legs to try to warm himself up.

“Probably,” Abe said, “You’ve been around long enough that I’d have thought you’d have found better ways to test out hypotheses that didn’t involve the risk of death. Especially in public places. And especially especially in the middle of winter.”

“Crime doesn’t go into winter hibernation,” Henry pointed out, moving from rubbing his arms to rubbing his nose, “And the murder may have taken place outdoors, but as I’ve just proved, it was secluded enough that almost no one would have seen or heard anything. So both they, and I, were safe from discovery.”

“You’re still an idiot,” Abe said, though he said the word with resigned affection, “Why couldn’t you just have had Jo stand in various areas near the crime scene while you made noise to confirm that the killer was unlikely to be disturbed?”

“Because I also wanted to see if it was possible that the victim was killed accidentally, making this a case of manslaughter rather than murder.”

“...And?” Abe asked, despite himself.

“Unfortunately not,” Henry said, “You can fall backwards in such a way to fatally crack your head on one of the bars of the fence, but it would require the right angle and a lot of bad luck.”

“And you managed to meet both requirements,” Abe said, shaking his head, “Dare I ask how many times you attempted this stunt before things caught up with you?”

“Four,” Henry admitted, “I was almost convinced, but wanted one more test to be sure. And, well...”

He’d meant to trail off significantly, but his body decided to add in an extra editorial comment. “Eshhh!!”

“Bless you,” Abe said, and even with his eyes closed, Henry could tell that his tone was shifting from annoyed to sympathetic, “I know there’s still a handkerchief in the glove compartment, and I’ll turn up the heat a little more. That should be enough to chase away the worst of the chill until we get back. When we get home, you take a shower while I make you some tea and a hot meal. And when we’re done with all that, my next highest priority will be to get that blanket washed. There’s a good chance you’ll end up sick from this...but maybe we’ll be able to avoid it next time. Just promise me that you’ll try to keep that ‘next time’ from happening for as long as possible.”

Henry chuckled as he retrieved the handkerchief. “You have my word.”

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LANCELOT, KING ARTHUR

12. “Don’t pay any attention, it’s all just dramatics.”

Lancelot shot Arthur a glare from across the table. Arthur, seemingly ignoring him, continued speaking to their guest. “Sir Lancelot always makes a large production whenever he’s even mildly ill. I believe it initially stemmed from an attempt to be excused from training for a few days, but even after the rest of us saw through it, he still tries his luck. Sometimes he does it to try to draw sympathy from the women, sometimes it’s a paradoxical form of bragging, to show that one of his brave deeds led to him falling ill. Today, however, I believe he’s doing it as a form of complaint.”

“And what, exactly, is he complaining about?” Legatus Atilius asked, glancing contemptuously across the table at Lancelot. Lancelot glowered right back, deliberately setting his glass down a little too hard to drive the point home.

“In this case, I’d imagine it’s to indicate his displeasure at having to leave his bed and get into his armor in order to attend this dinner. And while I don’t condone his petulance, I must admit it would have been courteous of you to send a rider ahead with news of your impending arrival. Then we wouldn’t have had to scramble to provide a suitable meal for you.”

Lancelot’s annoyance faded slightly at the subtle note of disapproval in Arthur’s voice. Sadly, his prickling nose didn’t allow him to fully appreciate the moment, and he turned his head aside to avoid sneezing on his food. “HURUSHHHH!!”

A few of the other knights murmured a blessing, although several of them chose to laugh instead (Lancelot had no doubt that Bors had been the one to start it). Atilius was looking at him with a mixture of disgust and discomfort. And Arthur...raised his eyebrows at Lancelot and gave an almost imperceptible nod before looking back at Atilius. “But we shouldn’t dwell on that, or he’ll take it as encouragement. Tell me of your latest battles. Surely a large army has had grander victories against the Woads and Saxons than a small band of seven knights.”

Despite the distance and the dim light, Lancelot thought he could see color rising in Atilius’ cheeks, and didn’t bother to hide his satisfied smile. He was still going to have words with Arthur once they had a moment of privacy, but now he was reassured that Arthur was at least somewhat on his side. Perhaps he and the other knights could further prick at the Legate’s pride over the course of the meal, leaving him dissatisfied but unable to retaliate. If nothing else, it would be a welcome distraction from the chills and the itching in his nose. With that in mind, Lancelot took another bite of meat and listened carefully to Atilius’ words, waiting for an opportunity to speak...or perhaps to deliberately interrupt him with a sneeze.

[Wig_Powder]

REED RICHARDS, FANTASTIC FOUR

13. “C’mere, I’ll keep you warm.”

Reed blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” Johnny said, stretching out one arm while patting his bicep with the other, “Come and lean against me. My body heat will probably be enough to keep you warm, but I can probably get my torso to a low flame that the suit can contain if you need some extra heat.”

Reed still wasn’t quite sure he was hearing Johnny right. “Are...are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Johnny said indignantly, “First off, it’s probably best if we stay close until Ben and Sue get back from scouting. Secondly, I’m planning on using you as a shield in case any threats show up. Third, Sue will kill me if I let anything happen to you, and I value my life too much for that. And fourth, your lips are turning blue.”

Reed couldn’t argue with that reasoning (well, he probably could, but he couldn’t quite summon up the energy to try at the moment) and pulled himself over to Johnny, resting his head on his brother-in-law’s chest. Almost immediately, he could feel a soothing warmth against his cheek and side, and felt some of the tension leaving his body. “Thank you.” he said, the word coming out as a sigh.

“Don’t mention it,” Johnny said, draping his arm around Reed’s shoulders, “You gonna be ok?”

“I should be,” Reed answered, though he understood the concern; being exposed to the heat was temporarily causing him to shiver harder, “Blue lips aside, I doubt I’ve got hypothermia. I should do everything I can to warm up, of course, and rest for a few days once we get back to New York, but I doubt there’ll be any serious long-term effects. I’d be more concerned about your injury.”

“Ah, I’ll be fine,” Johnny said, “I already cauterized it, so I haven’t lost too much blood, and Sue cleaned and bandaged it before she and Ben left, so I probably won’t have to deal with an infection. Especially if we all work together to get out of here.”

“Right,” Reed said, smiling faintly before abruptly burying his face in his elbow. “Hpsst!”

He could hear Johnny bite down on a hiss of pain, and winced. “Sorry.” He murmured, retracting his arm and wrapping both arms around himself in the hope of retaining some extra heat.

“It’s fine,” Johnny said, “At least you didn’t slap me in the face on top of everything. Just...try to give me some warning if you think you’re gonna sneeze again, ok?”

“Fair enough,” Reed said, “With any luck, though, you’ll have warmed me up enough that there won’t be many more than that.”

“We’ll see,” Johnny said, “I have a feeling you need to worry less about hypothermia and more about getting a cold. And instead of arguing with me about whether or not the whole ‘getting sick in the cold’ thing is true, save your energy and start thinking about how to get us out of here instead. I’ll act as your sounding board, even if I have no idea what the hell you’re saying ninety percent of the time.”

[Wig_Powder]

HENRY MORGAN, FOREVER

14. “I really don’t like the sound of that.”

“It’s not as bad as it seems,” Henry rasped, lowering the handkerchief and massaging his chest, “My body accumulated a fair bit of congestion while I slept, and I haven’t had time to fully dislodge it. The coughing should return to normal levels after about an hour. Less if I can use the heat from my tea to speed things along.”

Jo sighed. “I know better than to question a doctor about his methods. But can you at least promise me that you’ll take it easy while you wait for the congestion to clear?”

“Moving around would probably help jar the congestion loose,” Henry pointed out, “But I understand your concern, and I promise you, I’ll try to remain at my desk as much as I’m able. Though since you’ve come down to visit me, that may not be as possible as either of us would like.”

Jo looked at the notepad in her hand and sighed. “There has been a body found,” she said, “But when I called down here, you sounded...well, extremely congested, but since I knew you were on the tail end of your cold, I didn’t think too much of it. It wasn’t until I got in here and heard what sounded like you hacking up a lung that I reevaluated my opinion.”

“I assure you, I wouldn’t have come in if I thought this was going to be a problem,” Henry said, taking a sip of tea before pressing the container to his chest, “Although we do seem to be at a bit of an impasse right now.”

“Tell you what,” Jo said, “You stay here and work on whatever paperwork needs doing while you wait for your congestion to clear. In the meantime, I’ll take Lucas with me to the crime scene for preliminary observations, so we can get things started.” Noticing the expression on Henry’s face, she said “How else is he going to improve? But if it makes you feel better, I’ll ask the photographer to take as many pictures of the area as he can, so you can look them over later to see if you spot anything.”

Henry sighed. “I suppose that’s fair. But I’ll want a report from both Lucas and you. If I can’t be there myself, I want as much information gathered as possible.”

Jo nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll tell Lucas to take notes.”

Henry grimaced. “I shouldn’t keep you. Best of luck, Jo. I expect I’ll see you in an hour or t...”

He trailed off, the grimace becoming even sharper. Before Jo could ask what was up, he snatched up the handkerchief from his desk and pressed it to his face again. “Tichh! Ischh!! Hik-PSHHH!!!”

“Bless you,” Jo said, raising her voice to be heard over the sneezing, “Sounds like you need some luck too. Hopefully we won’t be dealing with...this...by the time I get back.”

Giving Henry a sympathetic look, she left his office to give Lucas the news, closing the door behind her. Even with that cover, she could tell Henry was still sneezing (though he was at least being allowed a brief break to catch his breath) by the time she and Lucas exited the morgue. She could only hope that Henry’s medical intuition was correct, and that this would do more good than harm in the long run.

[Wig_Powder]

HORATIO HORNBLOWER, HORNBLOWER MINISERIES

15. “I know something that might help. Just trust me.”

Horatio wasn’t in much of a position to argue, in part because he was shivering so violently that he doubted he’d be able to be understood through his chattering teeth. He merely did his best to nod, trying to pull the blankets around him and curl in on himself to conserve as much warmth as possible while he waited to see what Archie had in mind.

Despite the discomfort, Horatio’s mind was still clear enough to marvel at just how quickly this cold had come on. Normally, he had a bit of warning that an illness was approaching—a headache, a faint chill, or a twinge in his throat—things that would let him make preparations before others noticed and tried to force him to stay in bed. But this time, he’d felt perfectly fine one moment, discussing the progress of their resupply with Lieutenant Bracegirdle, and the next thing he knew, a wave of dizziness had struck him, and he found himself shaking with cold. Doctor Cornell was promptly summoned, and he quickly determined that Horatio had developed a cold, perhaps from having fallen into the water as they’d been bringing the water casks on board. He’d been brought to his quarters, where’d he’d remained ever since, desperately trying to warm himself, or at least find a way for the worst of the chills to subside so he could get a proper rest.

Archie reappeared in Horatio’s line of sight, holding what appeared to be a large bundle of fur. “A gift from my brother when I received my Midshipman’s commission,” he explained, “He thought it would be a fine decoration for my cabin once I became a captain. I planned to use it as an extra blanket for particularly cold nights at sea, but then...well, I wound up on the Justinian, and decided it was unwise to let Simpson know that I had it. Fortunately, he never dug deep enough into my seachest to discover it.”

With that, he spread the bundle over Horatio’s hammock, and Horatio realized four things simultaneously. First, that the bundle was actually a small rug made entirely out of sewn together fox tails. Second, that it was surprisingly heavy. Third, that he was already starting to feel a little warmer. And fourth, that some of the fur was now brushing against his nose, which promptly caused him to sneeze. “Hep-tshh!”

“Bless you,” Archie said, adjusting the rug slightly (and mercifully moving the fur away from Horatio’s face in the process), “Perhaps that’s a sign that your fever is abating, though I’m sure the congestion stage will be equally unpleasant.”

“N-no,” Horatio managed to say, weakly rubbing at his nose. “The...the fur.”

Archie laughed. “Ah, so that’s a universal problem then, is it? I sneezed too when it got a little too close to my face. Maybe that’s a sign that it’s not actually wise to use it as a blanket. Still, keep it closer to your legs, and that should stop the problem. And if it doesn’t...well, better to be warm and sneezing rather than freezing, eh?”

Horatio couldn’t argue with that, especially since he could already tell that the shivering was starting to subside. Still, he asked Archie to bring him all the handkerchiefs from Horatio’s seachest, both as a precaution and in preparation for the inevitable congestion. By the time they were safely tucked under his pillow, warmth had started to seep into Horatio’s bones, allowing him to drift off to sleep. The last thought he had before darkness descended was a reminder to thank Archie when he awoke. After all, it seemed that he had been right that the rug would help.

[Wig_Powder]

HAROLD LOWE, TITANIC

16. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank you.” Lowe said quietly, setting down the empty teacup. He hated his current state of neediness, but at the moment, all he really wanted was a comforting presence. Well, that and a fresh handkerchief. “Heh...heh-tchh!”

“Bless you,” Boxhall said, withdrawing his own handkerchief and offering it to Lowe, “It sounds like you could use this.”

Lowe nodded gratefully. “I’m sorry to trouble you...” he said, even as he brought the cloth to his nose.

“It’s no trouble at all,” Boxhall said, “You need it more than I do. In fact, you probably need three or four more, given how frequently you’ve been sneezing. Once you’ve fallen asleep, I’ll visit the infirmary and see if the doctor has any to spare.”

“I appreciate that,” Lowe said, “But you probably shouldn’t. Those supplies should be saved for the passengers. They need them more than I do.”

As he spoke, he could feel his throat tightening, less from his illness than from the overwhelming sense of loss that had been pulling at him ever since he’d seen Titanic slip beneath the waves, a feeling which had firmly taken root in his chest when he’d looked out over the sea of bodies. He’d tried his best to behave as an officer should all throughout the sinking, which had helped to ground him, but as soon as he’d seen the full extent of the loss of life, the feelings of guilt had come to the fore. Could he have made more of an effort to put women into the boats? Could he have kept things a little more orderly as the passengers began to panic? Certainly he could have gone back to look for survivors much earlier than he actually had...

“Lowe,” Boxhall said, his voice firm but kind, “Don’t let all of this overwhelm you. It speaks well of you that you want the survivors to be looked after...but you’re also one of the survivors. No one will think less of you for focusing on yourself for the rest of the trip to New York.”

“I know,” Lowe said, though he couldn’t bring himself to meet Boxhall’s eyes, “And that’s why I asked you to keep me company for a time. Perhaps that will help me to follow your advice...and the suggestion of the doctor.”

“Of course,” Boxhall said, as Lowe sneezed again, “We junior officers have to stick together, especially now. And looking after a friend is a duty I’m happy to carry out.”

Lowe managed a smile at that, before moving to lie down on his cot. “Perhaps I can return the favor sometime.”

“Perhaps,” Boxhall agreed, “In the meantime, try to get some rest. I’ll make sure there’s some food, tea, and fresh handkerchiefs waiting for you when you wake up.”

Edited April 18 by Wig_Powder

[Wig_Powder]

HENRY MORGAN, FOREVER

17. “I know it’s old fashioned, but it works.”

Jo raised her eyebrows. “I know doctors have agreed that honey and lemon really are good for colds. But this?”

Henry removed the saucepan from the stove and began to pour the milk into a glass. “I’ll admit that the medical world is still skeptical about this particular remedy. But speaking from personal experience, drinking this mixture when I’m sick greatly reduces the congestion. It may not get rid of the cold entirely, but at least I’ll be able to breathe for the duration of it.”

“So, have you taken this every time you’ve gotten sick?”

“Only when steam and other remedies aren’t helping break up the congestion. I must admit, I use it as a last resort. Both because it’s not the most pleasant of tastes, and because Abe hates the smell. But he’s out at an auction today, so I should be able to air the kitchen out before he returns.”

Jo watched with a mixture of fascination and disgust as Henry crushed a clove of garlic with a mortar before dropping it into the glass. Henry caught sight of her expression, smiled wryly, and lifted the glass in her direction before bringing it to his lips and swallowing what looked like half the drink. He lowered the glass for a moment, took a deep breath, then downed the rest of the drink. His face immediately contorted, and he set the glass onto the counter with a sharp clink while rubbing at his chest. “That good, huh?” Jo teased.

Henry didn’t seem to hear her. Instead, his hand darted into his bathrobe pocket, pulling out a handkerchief and pressing it to his face. “Hep-TISHHHH!!!”

The sneeze was strong enough to bend him forward, and Jo involuntarily took a step back, just to make absolutely sure the two of them didn’t collide. “Bless you!” she said after a moment.

Henry nodded, groaning slightly. “That’s how I know it’s started working,” he explained, “Now I can breathe again...but at the cost of having my mouth taste of garlic for the next four hours.”

“Couldn’t you have some honey and lemon tea to get rid of the taste?”

Henry shook his head. “I’ve found the flavors don’t mix well with the garlic. I think the milk enhances its potency. Best to stick to water until the taste fades.”

“You know best,” Jo said, “And I have to admit, you do sound a little better. But I don’t think I’m going to try that remedy for myself unless I’m really desperate.”

Henry chuckled. “I understand. Modern medicines probably work better for you, anyway.”

Jo gave him a confused look, then shrugged. At least he wasn’t decrying decongestants the way he did microwaves...

Edited April 18 by Wig_Powder

[Wig_Powder]

REED RICHARDS, FANTASTIC FOUR

Side note: This is one of the few stories that has a basis in comic book canon, specifically the Civil War arc. If you're unfamiliar with that one, though, you can picture whatever sort of dramatic crisis you wish.

~~~

18. “Do you think I’m worried about that. Just get some rest.”

Reed drew the blanket around him with trembling hands. “But...after everything I did...”

Sue shook her head. “You screwed up big time, I’ll admit that. But I love you, despite everything, and I’m not about to let you suffer unnecessarily.”

Reed sniffed, though it was only partially due to the growing congestion in his nose. “Thank you for that. It’s more than I deserve.”

“No it isn’t,” Sue said, “I know that you thought you were doing what was best in the long run. I just wish you’d actually talked to us before going ahead and picking a side. Or that you’d lifted your head up from your calculations and realized what the rest of your side was doing.”

“I never thought it would go as far as it did,” Reed said, hanging his head, “All that mattered at the time was trying to prevent the excessive loss of life I’d seen in the other realities. I didn’t consider the costs closer to home...especially where our family was concerned.”

“Well, you’re considering it now,” Sue said, “That’s a start. And I know you’ll use the lessons you’ve learned to help put things back together again, whether that be in reference to the city, our fellow superheroes, or our relationship.”

Reed nodded. “I will. I’m already coming up with a few ideas that I can give to...”

“Not now, Reed,” Sue said, gently but firmly, “Focus on getting better first.”

Knowing better than to argue with her, Reed nodded and stood up, preparing to head back to his room. He’d barely taken two steps before his nose itched, and he quickly brought his arm up to catch the sneeze. “Het-pssk!”

“Bless you,” Sue said, retrieving the blanket and putting it back on his shoulders while Reed retracted his hand, “Where do you think you got this cold from, anyway?”

“It probably was from the rainstorm after that last fight,” Reed said, “I was freezing by the time I got back to the Baxter Building, and even though I took a shower, I had a fever the next day.”

He opened the door for Sue, only to turn towards her and see her staring at him in disbelief. “Did...did you just imply that you thought it was the rain that made you sick, and not a virus you picked up from somewhere else?” she said.

Reed smiled mirthlessly. “It’s still a possibility. There were a lot of people at that battle, and all the stress I’ve been under can’t have helped matters. But as this past year has demonstrated, things I would have sworn to with absolute certainty have turned out to be wrong. Maybe it’s time I reconsidered my opinion on this as well.”

Sue nodded vaguely, giving him another glance as she went through the door. Reed followed after her, his heart fluttering hopefully. It would still take a long time before she fully forgave him, but he had a feeling that he’d just reduced that time by a significant amount.

Edited April 18 by Wig_Powder

[Wig_Powder]

HORATIO HORNBLOWER, HORNBLOWER MINISERIES

19. “No, take care of them first. I’ll be fine.”

“But Captain...”

“You have your orders, Mr. Bush,” Hornblower said curtly, “And I eh-expect you to follow them.” With that, he turned away and strode back towards his cabin, although Bush couldn’t help but notice that he was pressing the back of his hand to his nose as he did so. Heaving a sigh, Bush turned his attention to the rescued men, vowing that he would look in on Hornblower at the earliest opportunity.

He supposed he really shouldn’t have been surprised by all of this. Hornblower had proven time and time again that he was capable of pulling off the most incredible feats. So when word had come of a group of captured British soldiers who had escaped and had reached France’s coastline, Hornblower had conceived of a ruse that would allow him and a small group of men to sneak ashore, locate the soldiers, and return them to the Lydia. Bush had had his doubts, especially when a squall blew up, reducing visibility and generating high waves, but Hornblower had gone ahead with his plan, insisting that this would be the only chance they had to mount the rescue. And despite everything, he’d succeeded. It had taken an extra hour, two of the soldiers and one of the Lydia’s crewmen had been injured, and all ten men were soaked to the skin, but they were alive and free to continue the fight against Boney. It was a remarkable accomplishment, although Bush knew Hornblower would wave off any claims to that effect.

Bush also knew, however, that his Captain would often ignore signs of his failing health if he thought his duty was more important (and he almost always thought that was so). While he’d learned not to address the subject directly with Hornblower, he would be damned if he let the man suffer after what he’d just done. And for once, he thought he knew just how to address the issue...

After finding a place for the rescued soldiers and getting reports from them, the Lydia’s crewmen, and the doctor, Bush made his way to Hornblower’s cabin, knocking politely but firmly on the door. “Enter!” Hornblower said, and as Bush began to turn the handle, he heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like a stifled sneeze. “Hitchkk!” Ignoring the sound (and the glimpse of white cloth he saw in Hornblower’s palm), Bush saluted and gave his report.

“All the men have been tended to, sir, and the doctor believes they’ll all be back in fighting shape in a day or two after some rest and a good meal. But there is one lingering point of concern.”

“Yes...?”

Bush willed his face to remain neutral. “At least six of the men are insistent that you were grazed by a bullet. I think it would be best if the doctor examined you, if only to assuage their concerns.”

An odd combination of annoyance, suspicion, and relief flitted across Hornblower’s face. But then he jerked his head downwards in a quick nod. “Very well, Mr. Bush. Send the doctor to my cabin, and warn the men that I may be spending a few days recuperating in bed, depending on his diagnosis.”

Bush saluted, using the action to hide a brief, satisfied smile. “Aye, sir.”

Edited April 18 by Wig_Powder

[Wig_Powder]

WILLIAM WILBERFORCE, AMAZING GRACE

20. “Not that I’m complaining, but are you always this warm?”

“Mmm?” William replied sleepily, turning his head to glance over at Barbara.

“I can feel the heat of your skin through your nightclothes,” Barbara said, “And while it’s a soothing warmth that could easily carry me off to sleep, I don’t believe that’s normal. Were you working a little too close to the fire?”

She put her hand on his back, and even though it felt warm, William shivered at the touch. Barbara immediately frowned, her hand moving to his forehead. “William, are you taking ill?”

William had to consider for a moment. He had a mild headache, but he’d assumed it was from spending so many hours bent over his books. He’d been feeling slightly chilled for the past few hours, which he’d attributed to the night air. And now that he was thinking about it, it was slightly difficult to breathe through his nose...

“I believe I am,” he said at last, “Though I wasn’t aware of that until this very moment.”

Barbara shook her head affectionately, sliding her hand down his cheek. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me in the least. You’re so focused on your goal that you neglect your own health. I suppose that means that I’ll have to keep an eye on you from here on out, to make sure you don’t worsen your colitis, or take a simple cold and turn it into pneumonia.”

William felt a wave of gratitude, and he smiled as warmly as he could. “Thank you, my love. In return, I’ll do my best to come to bed at a...ah...”

Turning away from her, he snatched his handkerchief from his bedside table and brought it to his nose. “At-pish!”

“Bless you,” Barbara said, “I imagine I’ll be hearing a lot of that over the next few days. I can only hope I mostly hear them from the bedroom and not from your study.”

William laughed, the sound hoarse even to his own ears. “I’ll endeavor to stay abed as much as I can. Although I may request that my books be brought here, so I can work a little whenever my illness allows.”

“I suppose that’s a reasonable compromise,” Barbara said, “As long as you don’t mind me pulling your books from your hands when I think it’s time for you to rest.”

“Not at all,” William promised, “I may try to argue, but I’m sure you’ll be able to convince me. Unlike certain members of Parliament I could mention, I know you have my best interests at heart when you tell me not to work.”

Barbara chuckled, rubbing his back before he heard the sound of her getting out of bed. “That I do. Now then, I’ll fetch a slightly thicker blanket. Try your best to be asleep by the time I return.”

[MyOwnPrivateSFC]

Aw!!! These were all so awesome!!!

[Wig_Powder]

@MyOwnPrivateSFC I'm glad you enjoyed them! They were a lot of fun to write, especially given my imposed limitation to keep them to a single page length in my word document!