"Franken, I swear, I feel fine!"

"Breathe in," he commanded, listening to her heartbeat through the stethoscope, and he almost smirked when she sighed instead, doing the exact opposite. He had snuck up on her, not an uncommon occurrence, but instead of clapping his hands on her shoulders to startle her, he had set the chestpiece of a stethoscope on her back.

"I coughed a grand total of once," Marie informed, rolling her eye, though she did take a deep breath. She assumed that was what the impromptu exam must have been about, since it couldn't be anything else. "In class. After I breathed in some chalk. Don't be so overdramatic."

"Respiratory troubles are serious, Marie," Stein said, letting the stethoscope drop before Marie turned around, folding her arms. As she opened her mouth to refute him, he popped in the thermometer he had ready and brought his fingers to under her chin, softly closing her mouth even as her eyebrows went up.

A very muffled "Franken!" managed to get squealed out, but he paid her no attention, waiting the few moments for the object to beep before he pulled it out and Marie huffed, scrunching her now-free mouth to the side. The only reason she didn't spit it out was because she reminded himself that he so rarely bestowed affection in that way, in being so concerned he reverted into "Doctor" mode.

When he got in one of his overprotective moods, there was no stopping him. Once, she got a papercut and he insisted on two rolls of gauze and antiseptic because it "could get infected" and she'd "contract sepsis if untreated".

As he carefully observed the medical device, she leaned back, squinting at him as the silence stretched. Evidently, he believed that it was perfectly fine not to tell her why he was behaving the way he was, and he didn't seem like he was going to reveal any information about her medical state.

Fine. If he wouldn't speak up, she supposed she would.

"And?" she snarked, "Am I dying of the flu?"

He didn't answer her, taking note of the temperature and looking grim before he slowly reached into his lab-coat pocket and pulled out a small light, stepping close to her.

That wasn't the usual response. Usually he'd reply with a sarcastic comment or two. Marie's brows furrowed.

"…Franken?…Am I dying of the flu?"

He was acting awful strange. She felt the same as she usually did, but for him to look so bleak at whatever temperature she had…maybe she wascoming down with something? Soul had been sniffling in class a few days ago. Maybe she caught it from him?

She tipped her head back as he clicked the light on, her eyebrows coming together further as he shined the brightness in her singular eye. After a moment, he pulled away, shaking his head and turning around, walking out of the living room over to his desk.

"…Franken? Franken, what's going on?" she asked, getting tired of being kept in the dark, following after him. Her bumblebee socks made no noise on the floors, and she could go after him near silently, though she had to walk twice as fast to keep up with his far longer legs.

When she walked over to him, she saw that he was frantically writing something down, and her stomach sank.

Oh, Death. Was she dying? Did she have cancer? What was going on? Her fingers felt numb. Was that a symptom of something? Should she tell him? Before she could fret herself into a frenzy, he whirled back around, holding what looked like a medical file in his hands.

Her medical file.

"I suspected as much," he said, sounding somber and serious.

She was close to hyperventilating. He was still a doctor, a highly skilled one though she never did manage to find out which school he went to for his degree, and if he thought something was serious, then it was very,very serious.

"Suspected what? For the love of Death, Stein, I will knock you into next Tuesday if you don't tell me what's going on!"

Slowly, as though not to startle her, he held out the paper and she snatched at it, her eye skimming over the jagged letters. It was just one word, but it was written on an Rx form, the kind that she would bring to the local Death Mart for medication.

Death, she needed medication? For what?

"Stein, I can't read this. What do I have?"

At her panic, he finally cracked the deadpan stare he had been maintaining, and she heard the slight humor in his tenor voice immediately. "Stress."

"W-what?" Marie asked, blinking up at him just as her brain finally managed to decipher his horrific, doctor's chicken-scratch handwriting.

Was he being serious? How elaborate was he going to make his silly, morbidly romantic stunts?

The giggle that bubbled out of her made her feel silly.

"Oh my Death, you're a dork," she said, biting her lip and trying not to erupt in a storm of chuckles.

"This is a serious matter," Stein insisted. "My professional recommendation is to take the medication as often as needed."

"Oh, yeah?" she asked, turning the paper around so he could see the word "Kisses" written out in his own hand. "And what pharmacy am I supposed to bring this to?" she asked, looking amused.

"I am a Doctor. I can administer the medication," he informed, grinning lazily.

"You dork. This is the same as you telling me you'll 'kiss it better'. Except there is nothing to make better since I'm already fine."

"I conducted the exam personally. You are in desperate need of medication," he told her, grasping hold of the official Rx paper. "This is legitimate."

Marie only shook her head, stepping forward and pressing both hands to his chest, where she could feel his own heart beating.

She grinned, looking smug. "Maybe you're the one who needs this medication. Your heart rate's a little high."

"Are you a doctor now, Marie?" he asked, the amusement on his face unmistakable.

She shook her head, laughing even more before she fisted his shirt in her hands and brought him down to her height level, a good two feet lower than his own, so she could set a kiss to his nose.

When she pulled away, blinking up at him sweetly, she could only smile.

"No. But I don't have to be a doctor to administer that particular brand of medicine."


Because I was in desperate need of fluff after writing Nomen Nudum. Thus: These adorable dorks.