"Serious illness?"

"Well, it appears Mr. Ambrose has come down with a case of pertussis," the doctor carefully told me, nervously glancing down at his charts.

"Bless you."

"No, Mr. Linton-- pertussis, also known as "whooping cough" is a contagious respiratory illness. Symptoms include excessive coughing, muscle pains, violent headaches, delirium, etcetera. It is not uncommon, but could be deadly if not taken care of properly. Mr. Ambrose seems like a strong individual, and should be able to pull through. Under twenty four hours of care, he should be back in good health..." the man went on listing methods of treatment, but I wasn't paying attention. I glanced over at Mr. Ambrose, who was currently asleep.

Could be deadly... could be deadly...

Mr. Ambrose, dying? He would never die... right? He simply can't! He was my path to freedom!

He signs my paychecks, and lets me work, and scolds me when I fetch the wrong files, and takes me on adventures, and teaches me how to shoot guns... And sometime he holds you in his arms and kisses you. And does delicious things to your body that no gentleman would ever do.

The mental image of him laying in a coffin, cold and immobile, made me shift uneasily. Even though he was typically cold and immobile on a daily basis, it wouldn't suit him in death.

If he died, what would I do? We were supposed to achieve global domination and defeat Lord Dalgliesh! No other man would employ me, that's for sure. And you wouldn't want anyone other than Mr. Ambrose as your employer.

Sure, I may have threatened to strangle him and knock him in the head a good number of times, but I never actually meant it--

"Mr. Linton?"

"Huh?" I shook my head, dazed from my previous thoughts.

"Please do not worry yourself," the doctor said with a kind smile. "As I've said, as long as he rests and eats well, he'll be back on his feet in no time."

"Is there no cure for this illness?"

"Unfortunately, as of right now, we do not have any sort of vaccine that will completely prevent or eliminate this disease."

"Oh," I said, staring down at my shoes.

"Give him a spoonful of each these potions after a meal-- they will strengthen his immune system and help with the healing process."

I nodded numbly as he handed me a couple of bottles with strange-looking substances in them. Setting them aside on a small wooden table, I watched as the doctor packed up his equipment back into his leather briefcase.

"I shall come back tomorrow morning to see how Mr. Ambrose is faring," he said as he put on his tailcoat and reached for his top hat.

"Y-yes, of course. Thank you, doctor."

He sent me one last smile before putting on his hat and letting Karim show him out.

I turned back to my employer, who was still resting peacefully atop his bed. His chest and forehead glistened with a light sheen of sweat. His breathing was slightly uneven seeing as his nose was blocked with phlegm. The usual hard lines on his face during the day were now nonexistent, making him look much more relaxed.

"Listen here, you miser," I whispered sternly, leaning down near his ear. "I demand you get better right this instant, you hear me?"

He gave a grunt in his sleep, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'Yellow pigs'.

For some unfathomable reason, my hand snaked out and began to stroke his cheek, feeling the heat of his body emanating on mine. My hand slowly wandered downwards to grasp his own hand in mine, squeezing gently.

**************************************

I was seated by the window, dozing off in an old wooden chair when I heard what sounded like a throat clearing behind me.

Startled, I shot up out of my seat at the noise, my legs tangling together and ultimately resulting in me falling backwards onto my derrière.

"Oomfph!" Blast! That hurt!

"Good evening, Mr. Linton."

I peered up to see Mr. Ambrose glaring down at me through half-lidded eyes from his current resting position.

"Hello, Sleeping Beauty," I scowled as I got up and brushed the dust off of my tailcoat.

"I have wasted enough time here. I must get back to wo-" he started, but ended quickly as he started coughing uncontrollably when he tried to get up.

"Oh no you don't," I narrowed my eyes as I pushed him back down onto the bed, a little 'oof' sound coming from him. He glared at me, defeated.

"I made you soup!" I beamed at him, gesturing towards the huge pot sitting on the stove top.

"That was not necessary, Mr. Linton." I saw him looking out the window, towards the setting sun. "I cannot stand laying here, watching my business waste away into nothing."

I rolled my eyes at his dramatic sentiments.

"The doctor recommended you drink hot liquids and rest. He said it will make your recovery faster. And we both know time is money, right Sir?" I said with a smirk, knowing I had just used his own phrase against him.

I walked over to the pot and started filling a small bowl with some soup.

"Doctor? What doctor? I'm not paying for any medical fees," now his gaze was turned towards me, I could feel his glare burning into my back as he watched me.

I turned back around, now heading towards him with steaming bowl in hand.

"I had Karim fetch one. You were burning up. Your body felt like it was a thousand degrees!"

"And pray tell why, Mr. Linton, were you feeling my body?"

Uh oh. He had caught me there. I could feel color rising into my cheeks as his eyes burned holes into my skin. I sat down on his bedside and avoided his gaze.

"I- You- Whatever! Just eat!" I said, turning and shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth-- effectively shutting him up.

I gave a little laugh at seeing his current position. The spoon stuffed in his mouth made him look quite silly. The laugh resonated along the walls of the tiny room.

However, my humour was cut short when I noticed his eyes, which had a storm brewing in them. His hand shot out and enclosed itself over my wrist, jerking the spoon out of his mouth. He didn't let go of my wrist, however. I could feel heat spreading throughout my body at his touch. The tiny room we were both sitting in suddenly felt even smaller. Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me?

I stared into his sea-green eyes as he stared into my brown ones. I felt myself leaning closer and closer to him, his eyes entrancing me and beckoning me to come closer.

"Mr. Linton..."

"Yes, Sir?" I whispered. Our noses were nearly touching.

"Why are you doing this?" His eyes bored into mine, eyeing me skeptically as if trying to figure out my true intentions.

His question took me by surprise. Why was I doing all of this? Staying here all day, making sure he was okay, getting a doctor to check him... I could have just left and took a day off to meet Patsy, Eve, and Flora in the park. So why didn't I?

"Well..." I swallowed, looking into his blue orbs. There was no going back now. "I... suppose you could say that I care, Sir."

"Care?" The word sounded foreign on his tongue.

"Yes, Sir. Care. It is when one individual doesn't typically wish for the other person to be harmed, or dead. After all, who would sign my paychecks if you were six feet under?" I smirked, trying to lighten to mood.

He didn't reply, but I felt his hand tighten its grip on my wrist, before moving down to enclose my small hand in his larger one and holding it close to his chest. His whole body was hot with fever, and his warm hand was spreading heat throughout my entire body.

"I suppose I wouldn't want you to be in harm either, Mr. Linton. I don't have time to waste finding a new secretary." Translation: I care for you too.

I couldn't help but let a grin spread across my face at that.

"Anyways, Mr. Linton," he started, clearing his throat. "I'm quite sure that I can feed myself."

"Oh, um... yes, Sir." I immediately straightened myself, reestablishing the distance between us. Mr. Ambrose managed enough strength to shift upwards until his back rested along the wall. I handed him the bowl and spoon, and he began eating.

I got up and walked over to where the various bottles of medicine sat on the wooden table. What did the doctor say? How much of this stuff does he need? Bringing each bottle close to my eyes, I squinted into order to read the tiny print along the label. After thoroughly inspecting the strange bottles, I gathered that Mr. Ambrose was supposed to take a spoonful of each medicine.

Struggling to hold all of the bottles at once, I managed to make it over to Mr. Ambrose and set the bottles down on the bedside table. I noticed Mr. Ambrose was finished eating, and had set the empty bowl down on the table. I sat down on the bedside and struggled to twist the cork out of the first bottle.

"Rrgh!" I managed to get the damn thing open and the cork went flying across the room. Whoops!

I poured the thick, green liquid out onto a spoon and gave it a whiff. I scrunched my nose up and made a sour face at the smell. It smelled like Aunt Brank's feet!

Realizing that Mr. Ambrose was watching me, I turned towards him and explained that he needed to take these medicines.

"Down the hatch, Sir!" I grinned as I shoved the first spoonful into Mr. Ambrose's mouth. He made a slightly disturbed noise as he swallowed the liquid. He let out a cough as I started pouring out another spoonful of a different medicine.

"That tastes vile."

"Sorry, Sir. Doctor's orders," I shrugged as I shoved another spoonful into his mouth. I could tell by the glare in his icy eyes that he was annoyed with my control of the situation. His little finger had joined in, tapping away at his side.

This was getting fun! It's not everyday you get to annoy your employer to such an extent, and have him obey your commands.

This continued until we had finished going through all of the different bottles. By the time we finished, my nose was numb and my head was spinning from all of the strange-smelling syrups.

I was currently washing up the pot and other utensils I had borrowed from Mr. Ambrose's' cupboard, setting them on the counter to dry out. I could feel Mr. Ambrose's stare on my back.

I decided to take my pocket watch out and check the time.

"Oh, blast!" I cursed, fear spreading throughout my body. I was late for dinner! Aunt Brank is going to murder me, and then bring me back to life murder me again!

"What is the cause of your incredulity, Mr. Linton?" Mr. Ambrose murmured, eyes closed. It seems like the medicines were kicking in, making him feel drowsy.

"I have to go back home! I'm late! Oh, Aunt is going to kill me!"

I grabbed my things and jammed my top hat onto my head, stuffing my hair underneath.

"See you tomorrow, Sir!" I exclaimed as I quickly made my way to the door.

However, I stopped and turned around just before leaving. Mr. Ambrose looked like he was sound asleep.

"And... get better, will you?" My voice sounded soft for some reason. Traitorous voice! I may have been imagining it, but his head gave an imperceptible nod at my words.

I turned back around and made my way out of the Empire House, a small smile forming on my lips.

Is anyone else laughing at the idea of Mr. Ambrose being spoon fed?

Thank you guys so much for reading and commenting! It truly makes my day! Just one chapter left. :)

-T