Disclaimer:
Darkness-Kitsune: I don't own any Thief Lord characters or any of that good stuff. One-shot. Kinda sweet. Scip/net Hee-hee! I spent two weeks on this. R& R plz! P.S. To my readers of Twin Dragons: I know I have a tendency to spell certain words incorrectly, i.e. Labour, (labor) Honour, (honor). I DID THAT ON PURPOSE! I heard from one of my teachers that those words were spelled like that in Great Britain. (That is so cool!) So, I've adopted the practice, so sue me. (Someone was going to do that as a joke, because they knew I haven't got any money.) Any who, Enjoy! Ps. Again (Look for my up-coming fic on Anne of Green Gables, "Desperate times call for desperate measures.")
Love's Labour Found:
Dusk was coming early, even by February's standards. An icy wind blew against the sides of the abandoned Stella theatre. Rain had started falling nearly an hour ago, soaking everything in its reach.
Hornet stared out through a gap to the waiting storm. She looked back at her companions asleep on their mattresses; they were all curled under their blankets and shivering. She jumped when Ricco let out a congested cough. This bad weather was getting to him…and to the others. Just that morning, the group's newest recruit, Prosper, had woken up with a terrible cold and a fever. She inwardly hoped that the Thief Lord was in his abandoned church or somewhere warmer than here. Hornet looked out through the crack again, rubbing her hands together for warmth.
Suddenly, she heard the sound of running footsteps, splashing through the numerous puddles, heading towards the theatre. She held her breath. Was it the Police again?
She heaved a sigh of relief as she saw it was a boy, only about thirteen years of age, wearing an old-fashioned cape. She immediately recognized his stride, as well as his clothing, but he was drenched and shuddering. As he approached, his wearied voice broke the silence,
"Password…"
She immediately said, "Catago?" to which he gave a tired
"…debbono sua anniento."
She opened the door and pulled him in.
"Scipio… What are you doing here?" She asked in a whisper. His pale face grew paler.
"I just wanted to be sure you guys were alright. I…Ah-chhh…" he muffled a sudden sneeze into his soaked shirt sleeve. Hornet looked concerned. She went to her mattress and brought her blanket to him, wrapping it around his shivering, dripping form. He tried to thank her but was forced to stifle another sneeze and nearly failed, doubling over.
"Hekt-Chumf…" This slightly louder sound woke the others.
"Wha… Scipio? What's going on?" Ricco asked, coughing violently. Mosca grabbed a ceramic mug of water and handed it to him. He then proceeded to glare at the Thief Lord for waking his ill friend. Prosper woke as well, and rose, shivering with fever, from his bed and stared questionly at him. Bo ran up for his usual hug, but Scipio coughed into his arm and turned Bo away.
"What's wrong Scip? Are you sick?" the little boy asked his mentor.
"Go back to sleep, Bo." Hornet said. Bo pouted, but shivered and headed back to bed. The others stared as their breath began to show. Ricco fell into another coughing fit and blushed furiously as Mosca led him back to his mattress and gave him his own blanket. Scipio caught his breath and asked,
"How long has Ricco been coughing like that?"
Almost a week," Prosper replied, sniffling, "We're getting worried." Scipio nodded and rubbed his nose to halt another affirmation of his illness. Hornet knew better.
"You're sick too, you should stay and get some rest."
Scipio shook his head.
"I'm fine for now, and I should le…l… Heh-Heh-EH-CHOOO!" He sneezed again, "I should leave."
"You CAN'T!" Hornet said quickly, grabbing his hand as he turned to leave. She blushed as red as Bo's jacket and let go.
"You can't." She repeated softly. He tried to reason with her,
"If I am sick, and Ricco catches whatever I've got on top of his cough…" He left it there, so her imagination could fill in the blanks.
Hornet hung her head,
"But…" she felt tears pool up in her green eyes, "If you go out in this…and you get worse…I'd-never-forgive-myself!" she said all-in-a-rush. Now, it was Scipio's turn to blush. Prosper left the two alone and went to go check on Ricco.
Scipio turned once again towards the door but, he seemed to think it over, and stopped. Turning towards Hornet instead, he removed his soaking wet cloak and gave her a shy smile. She took his hand and led him to her mattress. She forced him to sit down; wrapping his pale, shivering frame in her blanket. As she tried to ease the chattering teeth and the harsh coughs, she placed her hand on his forehead and frowned.
"You've got a fever. Here lie down and rest for a little while."
He tried to protest, but two cold-induced sneezes put a stop to that. He curled up under Hornet's blanket, sniffling. She laid down next to him for warmth. Soon, she was fast asleep.
Scipio rolled out of the blanket and looked back at his friend. Very gently, he knelt down and kissed her. Blushing to rival a radish, he ran all the way home.
The following morning, Dottore Massimo concluded that his son had somehow caught the worst chill of his young life. He claimed to be icy cold, though he was burning up with fever. Upon closer inspection, he had come down with a horrible cough and he couldn't stop sneezing. Today was indeed a strange day for the dottore. Earlier, the dottore also discovered that the confounded maid (whom he suspected stole things from the house) must have made off with his best Masquerade Cape.
As he walked from the room, he took one final look at his ill son. Even though, Scipio Massimo was asleep, his face held a large smile.
The End
DK: You probably know or have heard the saying: "Love's Labour Lost." Well, this is the opposite. Love has been found. All that hard work paid off! Until my next fic!