Valentine's Day Special: Love Fever

Surprise! Happy Valentine's Day! I worked on this little snippet for fun earlier this week and decided why not do a special chapter?! After the intense last few chapters I also figured doing something lighthearted might be a nice break, for me and you! Hope you enjoy a little glimpse into our couple's future, cause I know I did! (Also while I'm here, I wanna say if you like one shots like this, you should check out the other story on my profile! It's a collection of Lady and Tramp snippets that got Of Falling Star and Distant Hills rolling.) Thank you so much for reading, and I'll talk to you again when I get chapter eight posted soon!

"Tramp? Hello, are you in there?" Lady called, knocking on the door. "Tramp, sweetheart?"

The apartment door Lady stood before remained silent as the dead. She looked around the hallway, at the worn wood floor, the wallpaper slathered walls and the tightly shut doors of other apartments. She knew this complex well, having visited her beau here many times before. Lady fiddled with the ruffles of her pale pink dress at her knees, trying not to get nervous. This was so unlike him. The two of them had made plans for Valentine's Day and she was right on time.

Lady knocked again. "Are you ok?"

Again, no answer.

She bit her lipstick covered lips and tried the doorknob, jiggling the brass even though she knew it was a useless exercise. Except it opened without a fight. Lady stared at the knob with perplexion, her heart starting to race. This was very much not like him. She eased the door open and cautiously entered. "Sweetheart?" She asked into the quiet.

The place was quaint and well loved, with a small kitchen and even smaller bedroom in the rear. Lady stepped into the doorway and clicked the door behind her, rubbing her hands together from the snowy cold outside. All the lights were off, but the ceiling fan in the kitchen languidly spun about. Lady's heels clicked on the beige tile of the kitchen as she walked further into the apartment with anxiety. A pale blue windsor stove sat in the corner by the bedroom doorway, and across from it was a small kitchen table and a single chair.

And that was where she saw Tramp. He sat in the chair with his legs splayed on the floor, his head resting on his folded arms on the table. He was fast asleep. Lady stood there before him with her eyes wide and tried not to feel foolish for being so concerned. She placed her hand purse on the counter by the sink behind her, took off her coat and went over to him.

Tramp was still in his work clothes, the metal lunch box she'd gotten him resting by his feet on the floor. Lady went to touch his shoulder but stopped when she saw him up close. His hair was a wild hurricane, his lashes touched the skin beneath his eyes like that of an angel, and soft breaths escaped his parted lips. Lady couldn't hold back a smile, this was a rare sight for her. He was deviously handsome sitting there, none of his walls up or the characteristic crooked smile across his face.

"Tramp." She whispered, touching the rough material of his work shirt. He didn't stir. "Tramp, honey." His eyes moved underneath his lids but he remained where he was. Lady grew worried again and double-checked to make sure he was breathing. "Hey you, it's time to wake up." She shook his shoulder a little harder than before.

Finally, Tramp's eyes fluttered and a groggy exhale left his lips. He lifted his head by a centimeter, squeezed his eyes shut then open and turned to look in her direction. He grunted in surprise and immediately burst upright in the chair, slamming into the wall behind him. Tramp fumbled into his pocket and pulled out a small knife, his face a groggy mess.

"Tramp! It's me, it's alright! It's Lady!" She exclaimed, putting up her hands.

The knife fell from his fingers and clambered to the floor. "Lady?" He croaked, squinting into full wakefulness. "Damn."

"I think you fell asleep when you got home from work last night, you didn't even make it to bed." Lady said.

Tramp rubbed his face and ran a hand through his hair. "Geez, never done that before. What time is it?"

"It's almost noon."

"The hell?" He muttered, leaning down and grabbing the knife from the floor. "Sorry about the knife, I didn't hurt you did I?"

"No, not all."

Lady listened as he spoke and noticed how hoarse and uneven his voice was. That's a bit strange. She thought.. "Are you alright? You sound a little under the weather." In fact his eyes had dark circles and his cheeks were flush.

"I don't get sick, it's nothing." He chuckled, but then he suddenly turned and coughed into his arm. Lady was able to see the exposed skin of his neck, and the sheen of sweat across it.. "You don't look well. Are you sure you're feeling fine?"

"Yeah I'm good." He said, rising to his feet. "I honestly haven't gotten sick in years.

"But I think—"

"Wait, why are you all dolled up like that?"

"Well…" Lady said. "We were supposed to—"

"Oh damn it all, Pidge. The date!" He exclaimed, slapping a hand to his forehead. "I got no idea what happened last night. I'll uh—go change and we can try to get going, I had a lot of things in mind."

"Hold on, are you sure you should be moving around that quickly? Just give yourself a minute there's no rush, honestly.

As Lady spoke Tramp turned to walk into his bedroom, and waved her off. "You worry too much, I told you I'm good—"

Suddenly he staggered and slammed his shoulder into the doorway. Lady ran to him as he slumped down to one knee, coughing and gasping violently. "Oh, Tramp!" She fretted, grappling his arm around her shoulder and helping him back up to his feet. She felt just how swelteringly hot his body was against hers. "You're sick and we both know it, you need to get in bed."

"No." Tramp protested weakly. "I don't need—I'm fine and—"

"You're not fine!" Lady exclaimed. She forced him to walk to the bedroom, pulling his arm even though he feebly tried to fight back. Lady pushed him into bed but he still refused to lay down. "Pigeon, stop fussing." He said, sounding worse and worse. "You can't order me around like your kid brother."

Lady rolled her eyes and touched his forehead. "For men who act like boys I can. Oh yes, you have a fever I can tell. And I swear if you deny it one more time I'll lock you in here and throw away the key."

"Little she-devil." He growled.

"Alright, boots off and into bed. Our date is cancelled. I won't have you fainting all over town."

"But you were excited, right? I don't wanna cancel if you wanna go."

Lady smiled and rubbed his back. "We can have a thousand other dates after today, I just want you to rest."

Tramp grumbled and swore but begrudgingly kicked off his boots and laid down. "Wait a minute, take off your shirt." Lady said.

"If you wanted me to get undressed you could have come up with something more creative." Tramp said, his voice uneven.

Lady snorted and lightly swatted at him. "Don't get any ideas, now off with it." She walked his boots to the entryway and deposited them on the floor. On the way back she filled the metal kettle on the shelf above the sink with water and started up the stove. When she returned to the bedroom she found Tramp with his shirt halfway undone, his shaking hands grappled into the next button.

"Hey—" He shivered "—since you're the doctor now how about helping your patient out a little, huh?"

"Yes, yes I'll help you big baby."Lady bent down and undid the shirt, helping him shrug it off his smoldering shoulders. She touched his bare chest, and tested his body heat once more. "I knew it, you're looking for an excuse to feel me up." Tramp said.

At his words she looked up, assessing him in his bare skinned form with familiarity. He was pale and slender, but muscular from his rigorous army training. His strong arms were long like reeds, and his waist curved pleasing into the narrowness of his hips. A large, pale line of scar tissue was etched across his shoulder, all the way to his pectoral; a serious gunshot wound he'd gotten in France. It broke her heart every time she laid eyes on it.

Tramp let out a shaky exhale and swallowed with obvious, pained effort. "Damn it." He hissed, laying down and pulling his blankets up to his chin. "I don't get sick."

"Everyone gets sick. It's okay I'll stay here and take care of you." Lady consoled, digging under his bed for more blankets.

"You look so damn pretty too." He said in a muffled voice, having pulled the blanket to his nose. "You got a whole new dress didn't you?"

Lady sighed and produced a thick wool blanket, which she placed over him with care. "Yes, but I don't mind."

He glared out from the covers like a child. "Stop saying that. You have to be upset a little, at least. No girl I ever—" Lady lifted an eyebrow. "— I mean, you can't honestly be willing to cancel so easily."

"You are sick and there's no possible way you could have controlled this."

Tramp looked sheepish.

"What?" Lady asked suspiciously.

"I may or may not have picked up extra shifts all week."

Lady covered her eyes with her hands. "Tramp...how many times."

"I know, know I was just trying to—"

"Trying to what?"

"Never mind."

The whistle of the kettle stopped Lady from probing any further, and she headed back into the kitchen. She grabbed a tin of tea bags, which she gotten him for Christmas, and prepared it with the hot water from the kettle. Lady carefully carried it back to the bedroom, placing it on the large chest Tramp used for a night stand. He seemed to have gotten worse in her absence, he lay there panting and sweaty with his eyes shut. Lady bit her lip and stood up, unsure whether to disturb him again. The snow outside the window fell in thick, fluffy flakes onto the iron spiral staircase against the building as gentle as feathers.

Slowly Tramp's breathing evened out, his eye lids smoothed and he appeared to have fallen asleep. Lady decided to tidy up the apartment and let him rest. She shut the window shades, and quietly turned on the box radio he kept on the counter. It played dreamy, romantic hits and the announcer talked of Valentine's events going on in the city. When she was finished awhile later, she went to check on him. Tramp was tossing and turning and the blankets had been pushed down to his knees.

Lady pulled them back over his body, and tried to convince him to drink some of the tea, which he refused. Tramp grimaced with discomfort and fell back into his pillow. His dark eyes stared unseeingly at the wall across from him.

"Why do you always have to look so good?" He breathed.

"What?"

"Why do you have to be so pretty? All the time. It's a sin how pretty you are, Pidge. I need to keep you all to myself cause any man on the street could fall for you."

Lady blinked at him. Was the fever making him delirious? She brushed his cheek softly, her concern growing. "Silly man, what are you saying?"

Tramp closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm saying you're so beautiful it hurts."

All she could do was fret over him as he lay there in a feverish stupor, quaking like a leaf clinging to its barren branch.What to do? What to do? Then she remembered what her mother had done when she'd gotten sick in the past. Lady went to the small bathroom in the corner and grabbed a washcloth, dousing it in cold water from the tap.

When she returned he had forced the covers off him again. Lady coerced Tramp to lay on his back, and placed the cold cloth against his forehead. As he sighed with relief she pulled the covers up to his neck and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "You'll be over this soon, my love. I'm right here."

After a while he opened his eyes and began to speak again, his voice growing increasingly slurred. "You know…I always think 'she's too kind to be real'. I never understand how you can be so—so...good. I don't know anyone like you, Pigeon."

Lady gazed at his handsome face, completely caught off guard, and grabbed his hand. "What?" She whispered.

"You're too good to be with a piece of shit like me. I don't know why you stay with me. Why do you stay with me? It doesn't make sense."

"Tramp, honey—"

"But-but I still need you, even though it feels wrong to. I don't—sometimes I get afraid about needing you the way I do. I don't ever rely on anyone and you have to carry the burden of being the only one. I'm such a burden, I know that." He murmured, his eyes looking misty. "I'm sorry, Pidge."

"No, no don't be sorry." Lady said, bringing his hand to her cheek. "I think this is the fever talking, just try to sleep."

Tramp groaned and a fit of unintelligible whispers overtook him. Lady offered him tea, and he accepted. Once he'd eased back into his pillow, his broiling hand came to rest on the back of hers. He was quiet for a few minutes, the pleasant tunes wafting in from the kitchen and Lady began to think he'd fallen asleep again.

"Pigeon...Lady. You know why I worked so much?" He said, his eyes remaining shut. "To make sure I could take you out today and give you a good time. I need to make up for me hindering your future in some way, right? Get you gifts, take you to dinner. Looking at it now it seems so stupid. Let me try to make up for being worthless by buying things anyone could get you."

Lady stared at him in horror, now close to tears. "Tramp, please stop. You can't actually believe that can you?"

"How can I not? I just love you so much that I—"

Lady couldn't bear to hear anymore and stopped his lips with a kiss, not at all concerned with getting sick. When she pulled away his eyes opened by just a crack. "The only thing I want you to know is I love you with everything I have in me. You are not a burden in any way, I promise you."

"I don't deserve this. I don't deserve to have you here worrying over me...but I'm happy you choose to willingly. I'm so happy." Lady could have sworn she saw a tear drip down the side of his face. But then another round of coughing gripped him and she couldn't be sure.

He relaxed into the sheets and it seemed as if he'd exhausted himself for he remained silent. Lady sat frozen for a few moments, flabbergasted. He didn't usually, if ever, speak to her that way. Not that he wasn't caring or gentle but he was a proud, shrewd man who kept his feelings at arms length when he could.

Lady shook her head, bemusement and affection tugging at her heart. I guess a fever is the way to get his heart on his sleeve. She traced his chest and arms with a finger and lovingly caressed the scar on his shoulder. Every inch of skin that came beneath her finger, made Lady love him more and more. "I hope you get well soon, my love." She whispered.

Lady stayed throughout the day after that. Tramp awoke several times from his fitful sleep and each time he whispered her name, as though checking if she were still there. She soothed him without fail and when the sun slipped beneath the snow covered city, she decided to stay the night too. When she crawled into bed beside him in the darkness Lady realized she would forever cherish her time with him in his small apartment. His feverish words would be treasured for years for years to come. Lady was certain this was the best Valentine's gift she'd ever received.