Here is the first chapter of a new ficlet! As always, your reviews and ideas are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!
"Achoo!" I heard from the living room.
"Bless you!" I called, but they didn't reply. I huffed. You're welcome. I thought sarcastically and continued reading at the table.
"Achoo! Achoo! ACHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
I was taken aback by the sheer volume of that last sneeze, and decided to investigate. Upon entering the living room, I found a rumpled Tony lying on the couch, his right arm draped over his face.
I chuckled. "You okay?" I asked, and approached the billionaire.
He waved his other arm at me. "No! Go away, Beth! I'm sick!" he answered, very congested.
"You sound like it..." I commented, and with that he lifted him arm off of his face to reveal an extremely haggard and pale uncle, glaring at me.
"Yikes. You look like it too." I reached for his arm. "Let's get you to bed, okay?"
Tony just rolled his eyes and allowed me to help him walk to his room. Once he finally flopped onto his mattress, he breathed really heavily and there were little beads of sweat on his forehead. Definitely the flu...
"Just try and get some rest, okay?" I told him.
Tony merely gave me a weak nod and turned over in his sheets.
I was rifling through the medicine cabinet for the thermometer when I heard a creak in the floorboards behind me. I could tell somebody was trying to sneak up on me. After waiting a moment longer, I whirled around to see Clint with his arms raised about to grab my shoulders.
"Can I help you?" I asked him, and resumed my search. The superspy deflated as he leaned against the adjacent cabinet.
"C'mon. I can't believe you heard me..." he said, crestfallen.
"Maybe you're just losing your touch?" I suggested with an exaggerated rise of the eyebrows. I cheered when I finally found the pesky thermometer.
Clint gasped in mock horror. "How dare y-ACHOOOOOOOOOOO!" he replied, and was pushed backward by the force of his sneeze, nearly knocking himself into the counter.
My eyes widened. That sounded just like Tony. "Come here, birdbrain. Let me see if you have a fever." Clint glared at me but obliged. I set my hand on his forehead. Yikes.
Giving him the thermometer, I checked on Tony. Luckily, he was asleep. Unfortunately, he was somehow paler than before and had sweated through his t-shirt.
Clint yelled something at me, but it was garbled by the thermometer. I went back to the kitchen and took it out of his mouth. 103. 103!?
I sighed, realizing that I had an epidemic on my hands. "Go get some rest, Clint." I said, and nudged him in the direction of his room. He meekly nodded and trudged away.
This is gonna be so much fun...
