Disclaimer: Not mine. Nuff said.
"AHHH-CHOOOO!"
An almighty sneeze wracked Marianne's tiny body and she sniffled wetly, sighing as she flopped miserably against her pillow. Of all the times to get sick, it had to be now, right on her one year anniversary with Bog. She sighed again, unintentionally setting off a series of hacking coughs.
"Hey, Tough Girl, you feeling all right?" Bog asked, a frown crossing his features.
He had just been passing by on the way to set everything up for that night's celebration when he heard Marianne's sneeze. She looked up, wiping her nose on one hand and sniffling again in response.
"Yeah, I'm just peachy," she snapped; being ill tended to mess with her already fiery temper. "Sorry, Bog, I just feel terrible for getting ill on our one-year anniversary."
"Couldn't be helped, I'm sure," he sighed. "I'll go and see if my mother has anything that would help."
"Thanks," she murmured, sneezing directly into his face by accident. "Oh shit, sorry."
"Eh, I'm strong, I'll live," he smiled, turning to go and find Griselda. "You rest, Tough Girl, you understand me?"
"Yes sir," she replied, holding up one hand in a mock-salute. Then she fell asleep with his laughter and retreating footsteps echoing in her ear as she drifted off.
"Mother," Bog said. "Marianne is ill - just a cold, I think - but I was wondering if you had anything that might help."
"I should," Griselda replied, going to the collection of potions on her dresser and selecting a large blue bottle. "Now, let me see here...ah yes, this will help."
"Thank you," he replied, tucking the bottle carefully under his arm. "I should...ah...get this to her."
"Tell her I hope she feels well soon," Griselda answered. "This place just isn't the same without her livening things up!"
Bog sneezed in response. Great, he thought, now I'm getting ill, briefly wondering if Marianne had sneezed in his face on purpose. When he returned to her room, he found her sleeping fitfully, tossing and turning in the throes of a fever-induced dream. He set the bottle on her nightstand carefully, then started to shake her awake to give her the medicine.
"I brought the goods," he announced, handing over the bottle and sneezing. "This should help."
"Thanks," she smiled. "You better have some too; I don't want both of us to get sick."
"Aye," he agreed. "That's a disaster waiting to happen for sure."
"Some anniversary this turned out to be," she sighed, curling into his side and yawning.
"Rest, my tough girl," he murmured, tucking her blankets around them both. "This will be a night we can laugh at later, you'll see."