Author's Note: Well, this chapter doesn't have much of a point. Like, at all. And it's really short. *blush* I just felt the need to post something. I swear the next one will be super long! And with an actual point too!

Bring Him Home

"Firo, you sure you're alright?" Luck asked, poised on the edge of the couch.

After complying to Vino's strange demands, Luck had taken Firo home, concerned for his friend's health. Upon arriving at his house, Firo had flopped onto the couch and passed out. Luck had decided to wait for him to wake up before deciding whether to leave or stay.

"Yeah, sorry," Firo smiled weakly. He rolled over and was puzzled when he couldn't free his arm.

Luck, smiling fondly, adjusted the blanket. "You positive you don't want me to stay?"

Firo nodded. "You get home. Sorry to have kept you so long." The two heard the front door closing in the hall.

Luck got up, nodding. "It was no problem at all, Firo." He put his hat back on his head and swept out of the room, side stepping a confused Ennis. As he went down the hall, he heard her anxious queries and his reassuring replies.

He closed the front door behind him, and leaned his head back, staring into the sky. The first few drops of a rainstorm dripped onto his face, and Luck searched the sky with his eyes, unsure what he was looking for. Luck didn't move for at least ten minutes, but was finally forced to once the rain started coming down harder. Reluctantly and with a dread in his step, Luck headed for the Gandor mansion.

...

Vino paused, looking at his reflection thoughtfully. When he recalled the encounter, he supposed it could've gone a bit smoother.

He made a face, deciding he didn't like how he looked in red. Vino turned to try a different suit on.

Yes, but when he thought about it, he didn't handle it very smoothly at all. 'I wonder what made Firo so upset, though,' he thought, slipping on a baby blue tuxedo. Almost as soon as it was on, he took it off. Returning the suits to their hooks, he mulled the question over some more.

Vino decided that if the answer wasn't immediately evident to him, he wasn't going to worry about it. Besides, he had a plan to execute.

...

Firo shivered under the covers and mentally swore. He had on two sweaters, two pairs of socks, the thickest pants he had, and was being smothered by a very thick blanket, and he was still cold. The first thing running through his mind was how on earth he'd gotten this cold. And the second thing was how much of an idiot he'd been at their meeting.

He groaned at the headache pulsing in his head, which made everything a lot worse than it was. Wondering idly what time it was, he settled back into a groggy half-conscious state before falling asleep once more.