[[I've noticed there's a fair amount of fanfics where Layton gets ill and his friends have to take care of him. However, this time the professor will be the person taking care of his No. 1 Assistant! I wonder if Emmy picked up the bug...
Bob the Spider: I am a bug. Perhaps I bit that infuriating female.
*Gasp.* Bad Bob! We don't bite people... If Emmy turns into Spider-Lady it's your fault! *Ahem.* Of course, this oneshot contains EmmyXLayton. Enjoy!]]
Fever
If anyone were to ask Professor Layton who the most active person he knew was, he would instantly answer Emmy Altava without fail. He had witnessed her topple men twice her size, leap from rooftops, fend off a pack of wolves, and defy gravity itself by running up the side of a wall. Emmy was unmatched in the martial arts department (as far as he was aware); she was swift, strong and never seemed to lack zealous energy.
All except today, that is.
"You really should have rung me earlier, Emmy. I don't expect you to come into work when you're poorly."
The professor had entered his office to find Emmy filing through the mounds of paper on his desk, as was her usual morning routine. Layton hadn't been surprised by this. No, what jarred him was her unhealthy demeanour. She had greeted him with a haggard smile; her pallor strikingly pale, her hair drooping limply around her face, and there were dark bags under her eyes. The mischievous glint that could often be seen in the corner of her gaze was gone, along with the glow from her cheeks and her bundles of spirit.
It was only now when he could compare Emmy's peaked image to her usual vivacious semblance did he realize how pretty she was. Though of course, Layton didn't comment on her current appearance (a gentleman must never offend a lady). Rather, he insisted she rest on his orange settee while he prepared her a warm drink.
"I told you I'm f-f-fine, Professor," Emmy's teeth chattered in a tell-tale reply to his statement.
Unconvinced, Layton passed her a mug of hot chocolate (How could she claim it was sweeter than tea?) and sat beside her. "We both know that answer is false," he said sternly, placing a hand over her sweaty forehead. Emmy had a fiery fever to compliment her normal fiery personality. "Hmm..."
It wasn't at all discomforting for Emmy having the professor touch her skin. In fact, she found herself craving the soothing contact. She shivered when he pulled his hand away from her temples. The professor stood up to retrieve a thermometer from amongst one of the many crammed shelves in the room.
"Are you sure it's not broken?" Emmy tried. The medical instrument beeped, confirming that her temperature was a scorching forty three degrees Celsius... and still rising.
Layton sighed. "There is nothing wrong with the thermometer, Emmy. You're not well at all. Why didn't you stay at home? I would feel terrible if you had strained yourself while working."
"I thought I could manage," Emmy moaned. (And I like seeing you every day she added in her heart.) She amended "I can manage. Please don't tell me to leave, Professor—"
"My dear, do you honestly believe I would make you travel back on your own?" He shook his head. "You are certainly in no state to ride that scooter of yours. You will just have to remain here until I can drive you home on my break." Layton's gaze shifted to the clock on the wall. He was already five minutes late for his next class... but that would have to wait. Right now, Emmy needed him.
The professor found some medicine and refused to budge until his assistant had taken the required dosage. Next he phoned Rosa, requesting that she come in to check on Emmy during his seminar. Unfortunately, there wasn't a blanket he could offer Emmy...
On his way out the door, the professor turned to study Emmy wrapped up in his coat with her head against the arm of the chair. "Are you sure you're going to be alright now?" he affirmed.
"Yes Professor, for the hundredth time. Now go already. Do you want to keep your students waiting any longer?"
Layton nodded. Her temperature had improved slightly; she should be fine for an hour or so.
When the professor had finally gone, Emmy sighed. She hated to burden him like this. How could she be a useful assistant when she was stuck lying on her employer's couch? Emmy felt another shiver coming on and drew the professor's coat closer to her. The coat had the faint smell of tea... just like him. Despite feeling rotten, Emmy smiled a little.
Perhaps letting the professor take care of her wasn't that bad, maybe just this one time.
[[Hope you enjoyed it! Don't forget to review :D
Bob the Spider: I especially enjoyed watching the yellow in lady suffer. While she slumbers, I shall suck out her insides.
You definitely will NOT... Oh, hi, Clive.
Clive: I've been replaced in your author's notes... by a SPIDER? Really, MJ!
Bob the Spider: ...:E
Clive: ...Why is he making that face at me?
Bob the Spider: :E
He's barring his fangs at you. Looks like he's hungry... Better run, Clive.
Clive: D-Don't come any closer... ARRGGH!]]