Never Again
Written for Caesar's Palace Shipping Week
Day 4: Illness
Pairing: Scabior/Draconius

"Tuna again?" Draconius gave an exasperated sigh, looking down at the crackers spread with tuna and mayonaise on her husband's plate. "Honestly, Scabior. I swear if you eat any more fish, you're going to turn into one."

"Well, now there's a thought," said Scabior, placing a cracker in his mouth. "Imagine if someone's animagus form was a fish," he said around a mouthful of cracker and tuna. "Knowing my luck I'd turn into a fish, an then I'd get stuck like tha an you'd 'ave to run an drop me in the toilet."

"What?" Her jaw dropped at the notion of putting her husband in the toilet. "Why on earth would I want to put you in the toilet?"

"Because it would take too long to fill up the bathtub," Scabior replied, acting as though it were the obvious answer in the world.

Draconius rolled her eyes. "The only way you're ever going to get over this fish phase is if you eat so much of it that it makes you sick. That's what my mother used to say - you can never tell if you've had enough until you have too much."

"So wha then? You gonna go down to the market an get me something other than a few measly cans of tuna?" asked Scabior, sounding hopeful.

"Yes, I think I will. Maybe then I won't have to watch you eating bowls of rice and tuna, or tuna with mashed potatoes for dinner."

.oOo.

The smell of fish assaulted her nostrils as she walked through the door, causing her to wrinkle her nose in disgust. She hated everything about visiting the local fish market, with their dead mackerel lined up in a row, their sightless eyes staring at the ceiling.

Draconius tugged on the front of her dress, using it as a mask to block the stink. She scanned the variety of fish, seeing baskets of shrimp, cans of sardines, rows of salmon, tuna and mackerel, and freshly caught lobster, some of them still crawling around their tank.

'Dear Merlin, if I feed him this stuff, he's going to come to bed smelling like fish,' she thought, reaching for a package of processed lobster meat. Draconius shuddered at the thought of her husband trying to kiss her with nasty fish breath, and placed a second package in her basket. 'Well, hopefully this will be the last of it. Just need to make sure he gets his belly full so I won't have to deal with this anymore.'

She returned home a short while later, with Scabior ready to pounce on her the moment she walked through the door.

Draconius couldn't help the smile the spread across her face, grinning as she pushed him aside so she could get through the door. "Honestly, Scabior," she said, walking inside and setting the bag of groceries on the kitchen table. "You're like a child whose mother brought him a shiny, new toy."

As promised, Draconius prepared a lovely meal of fresh lobster with lemon and tarter sauce. Scabior devoured every last morsel of food, asking for seconds and even thirds. And yet he couldn't seem to get his fill, eating everything and wanting more, telling her that she needed to purchase three packages next time. It wasn't until several hours later that he started feeling rather odd, his temperature rising as the evening progressed into the late hours of the night.

He leaned back in his chair, his feet on the table as he loosened his scarf with one hand while wiping the sweat off his face with the other. "Probably shouldn't be wearing this in the summer months anyway," he muttered.

He placed his scarf on the floor beside the chair, then leaned forward and continued sifting through the stack of paperwork on the table. A few minutes later and his jacket joined the pile of clothing on the floor, followed by his vest, socks, and the glove he wore on his left hand.

"It shouldn't be this 'ot in September," he muttered, fanning himself with a handful of papers in an attempt to cool off. He leaned forward across the table, his arms folded on the oaken surface, his eyes closing as he rested his cheek against his arm. A cool breeze was ruffling the curtains beside the table, but it did little to ease the heat that was radiating off his skin. "Maybe if I just rest," he said, his voice low and groggy. "A little nap until it's cooler outside..."

Consumed by fever and exhaustion, Scabior slept for over an hour before the feel of his wife's hand roused him from his slumber.

"Scabior," said Draconius, giving him a gentle nude. "Sweetie, you don't look so good. Is something wrong?"

"Huh?" Scabior blinked and lifted his head. A sheet of parchment was stuck to his cheek, clinging to him like one of those muggle post it notes.

Draconius peeled the parchment off his cheek, revealing a green rash that had spread from the side of his face down his neck and chest. She recoiled at the sight of the greenish discoloration of his skin, a low gasp slipping past her lips. "Scabior," she said at length. "I don't think that was lobster you had for dinner. I'm thinking it could have been something else."

Scabior's eyes were half closed by the time she finished her sentence, her words barely reaching him through the feverish haze that clouded his thoughts. He caught something about the lobster he ate, and felt his insides twist into an uncomfortable knot. The next thing he knew his wife was lifting up the front of his shirt, only to discover that the rash had spread to cover his chest and abdomen.

Draconius frowned. "I knew it. There must have been a mistake at the market."

"A mistake?" Scabior hadn't the slightest clue what she was talking about. Had someone poisoned him? Was he going to die from some terrible affliction? He looked at the rash on his belly then back at his wife, desperately trying to figure out what had happened. But the only thing his tired mind could come up with was that someone had slipped something in his food.

"Someone must have caught a mackled malaclaw and mistook it for a lobster," Draconius explained. "Malaclaws resemble lobsters, but they're unfit to eat, and anyone who eats them will come down with a nasty fever and develop a green rash." There was a slight pause, during which Scabior moaned softly and leaned against the back of the chair. "Come on," she said, putting her arm around him and helping him to his feet. "Let's get you into bed."

They were halfway up the stairs when Draconius heard him mutter something about never wanting to eat fish or seafood ever again.