"All right, take a deep breath."

Trying not to shiver at the cold touch of the stethoscope, Mickey obeyed. He glanced over at the doctor, trying to read his face, but it wasn't giving much away.

"Hmm."

Finally, the man stepped back.

"So, what's the verdict?" Mickey asked before coughing a few times.

"Well…" the doctor said, his brow furrowing. "It was a good idea to come get yourself checked out. It looks like you may be trying to get pneumonia."

Mickey blinked, stunned. Of all the things he had thought it might be, he never would have guessed that it would be this.

"Are you serious?"

The man nodded.

"I'm afraid so."

After a moment, Mickey spoke again.

"Then… what should I do?"

"Well," the doctor replied. "The good thing is that we caught it early. I think you can prevent it from flaring up if you take action now."

Mickey drummed his heels against the examination table, waiting for him to continue.

"The best thing to do is get a lot of rest. I would recommend staying home for a week or two…"

Mickey shifted with unease.

"I dunno if I… well, I've got a job, and I…"

He broke off with a cough, and the doctor sighed.

"Mr. Mouse, this has the potential to be quite serious. If you're not careful, it may not matter if you have a job."

Mickey bit his lip, abashed.

"Y-yes, sir."

"If you explain it to your employers, I'm sure they'll understand."

Mickey listened as he went on, explaining the measures he could take to prevent it from getting worse. He couldn't help berating himself a little, but he supposed the timing could be worse. It was autumn now, and soon they wouldn't need him until spring.

The next morning, he asked Minnie if he could talk to her father and explain the situation. She was immediately very concerned and urged him to go home at once.

"I'll explain everything to him," she said. "Believe me, he'll understand. And don't worry about your job, the season is almost over anyway. You can stop for winter a little early."

Mickey gave her a grateful smile, trying and failing to suppress a few coughs.

"Thanks a ton, Minnie. I'm real sorry about…"

She shook her head and placed a hand on his arm, making his heart skip.

"Oh no, don't apologize. It's not your fault. Please, if you need anything…"

Mickey nodded and then, after a brief moment of hesitation, patted her hand.

"No problem."

Minnie smiled, and he felt that strange fluttering feeling again.

"And please let me know when you're feeling better," she said. Mickey immediately nodded.

"Sure thing," he replied. "Thanks again."

As he turned to go, he broke into more harsh coughs. He heard Minnie gasp and hurry up to him, placing her hand on his back.

"Are you all right?" she asked anxiously. Mickey felt a slight blush heat his face and gave her a quick smile and nod.

"Nothin' to worry about. I'll be fine."

He could feel her concerned eyes following him as he left. While the last thing he wanted was to upset her, it made him smile that she seemed to think of him in the same way as he did her.

No one was there when he got home… Goofy usually worked later. Mickey knew he was suspecting something was wrong, but he hadn't asked straight out yet.

Well, guess now's as good a time as any t' explain.

Coughing a few times, Mickey went over to the worn couch and sank down on it. Without going to work, he was facing a good deal of down time. Not to mention a while without being able to talk to Minnie. That was probably what he'd miss most about his day. With another cough, he stood and headed to his room. At least he didn't have nothing to do; over the past years he'd collected some adventure books with any left over money he had. He knew them pretty well by now, of course, but they were still enjoyable. They reminded him of the days when he and Oswald would roam the streets, pretending to be explorers.

When Goofy returned that night, he reacted in generally the same way Mickey expected: with surprise and concern.

"Yuh ought to have stopped sooner," he said, frowning.

Mickey gave his friend another smile at the gentle rebuke.

"Aw, don't worry, pal… it's not bad. I'll get over it."

Goofy didn't push the issue any further, but Mickey could tell he wasn't quite convinced. Judging by how he was feeling now, though, Goofy was probably right.

The next morning, Mickey found himself woken by the sound of someone knocking on the door. Moving to the doorway, he tugged aside the blanket to see Goofy opening it. To Mickey's surprise, two police officers stood outside.

"Good morning, sir," one said. "Does a Michael Mouse live here?"

Baffled now, Mickey stepped out as Goofy remained silent, apparently still processing the situation.

"That's me," he said hesitantly. The officers looked at him, as if they were sizing him up.

"We're sorry to bother you," one said. "But I'm afraid we need to ask you a few questions. May we come in?"

Goofy glanced at Mickey, and when the mouse nodded, he stepped aside to let the men in.

"You have recently started working of Marcus Mouse, correct?" one asked.

"Yeah," Mickey said slowly.

"No relation?" asked the other.

"Nah, just the same last name."

"Well…" the first officer said. "I'm afraid there's been a burglary at the residence."

Mickey blinked, startled.

"Really?" Concern immediately filled him. "Nobody's hurt, right?"

"Oh, no," the officer replied. "It was only discovered last night. Just one thing missing, a necklace of his daughter's."

Mickey realized immediately what he was talking about; Minnie had told him about her mother's necklace and how important it was to her. He frowned in confusion… who in the world would steal that, and only that? He almost didn't catch the officer's next words.

"We've been asked to question all employers. May we take a look around?"

Mickey's confusion doubled at those words. Did his employer suspect him? Then an even worse thought came to him… did Minnie suspect him? A feeling of disbelief and hurt filled him, but he only nodded.

"My room's back there," he said, gesturing. One of the officers headed that way while the other remained in front of Mickey.

"Were you working at the residence yesterday?" he asked.

"Not exactly," Mickey replied. "I've been under the weather…"

As if to prove his point, hoarse coughs interrupted his speech. When they stopped, he cleared his throat and continued.

"I just went there for a bit this morning, to let 'em know I can't work for a while."

The officer nodded.

"Yes, Miss Mouse told us that. But we must consider everyone who had access to the residence. You didn't return there at any point during the day?"

Mickey shook his head.

"Nah… I just go through the place to and from work. I don't really know the layout."

"I see," the officer said. "And do you know of anyone who had more access?"

"There's probably folks who know the place better than me," Mickey replied. "But I don't really know anyone else who works there."

"Hmm."

The sound of footsteps interrupted them, and the other officer stepped up.

"No sign of anything here."

The first officer nodded, then looked back at Mickey.

"I must warn you, all new employees in particular are under suspicion while we investigate this. We'll be in contact."

With a nod, both officers left the apartment. Mickey stood there for a moment, still processing what had just happened. He was under suspicion? On some level he understood, but on another he couldn't help feeling hurt. Did they really suspect him? Did Minnie? The idea that she might only made it worse.

"Well, I, uh… I gotta get going."

Shaken out of his thoughts, Mickey looked at Goofy and nodded.

"Yeah," he mumbled, then broke out coughing again.

"Ya gonna be okay?" Goofy asked. Mickey managed a smile and nodded.

"Yeah."

After his friend left, the mouse stood there a little longer before moving to the worn couch and sinking down on it. Lifting a hand to rub his forehead in thought, he barely noticed the slightly elevated heat. This whole situation was completely baffling… why would someone steal only one thing? It sounded as if whoever had done it knew the necklace was valuable to Minnie on a personal level and took it for that reason alone. But who else knew, and why?

He wasn't sure how long he sat there before another knock on the door sounded, softer this time. Confused, he stood and crossed the room to open the door. His eyes widened in surprise.

"Minnie? What…" He coughed, then looked back at her. "What're ya doin' here?"

She shifted on her feet, looking very uneasy.

"I… I just thought I… should come and explain everything."

Mickey looked at her, then stepped back.

"Better not get too close… don't wanna get you sick."

Minnie nodded and stepped inside.

"Look, I…" she said. "I know it must have been a bit of a shock, what happened this morning."

Mickey glanced at his feet and nodded.

"Yeah."

"It's just, we have to investigate everyone," Minnie continued, sounding uneasy. "You do understand, don't you?"

Mickey hesitated, then looked back up.

"I just… you know I didn't do it, right?"

Minnie hesitated, just for a moment, before replying.

"I-I'm sure you didn't… you've never actually seen it."

"Even if I did, you know that…"

"But I don't understand!" Minnie exclaimed, tears glimmering in her eyes. "Why would only that be taken?"

Mickey stared at her, his heart sinking.

"You… you don't really think that I…"

"N-no," Minnie said quickly. "No, of course not. It's just… we have to consider every possibility, and you do have access…"

Mickey took a step backward, struggling to process what he was hearing. After everything they had shared, all the time they'd had spent together, she would consider him a suspect? Suddenly, Oswald's words echoed in his head.

You can't trust any of 'em. First thing that goes wrong, they'll blame the help.

Some part of his mind was insisting that no, Minnie would never really blame him. The rest of it, though, was too hurt to listen. Taking a deep breath, he turned away.

"You… you better go," he said flatly. "Don't wanna get you sick too."

"Mickey…"

The sadness in Minnie's voice tugged on his heartstrings, urging him to turn and tell her he understood, but the stubborn streak that kept him working late for his friends made him set his jaw and keep looking at his feet.

"You better go," he repeated.

There was a long moment of silence, then a sound came from behind him that sounded like a suppressed sob.

"A-… all right. I'll… I'll see you later."

The sound of quick footsteps reached his ears and he turned around, opening his mouth to say her name, but the door closed before he could get it out. He stood there for a while, considering going after her, but his feet just wouldn't move. Finally he let out a sigh and walked to the couch, sinking down on it as he rubbed his temples.

She probably doesn't want to talk to me anyway, the way I acted.

His heart began to ache at the realization that he may have just lost one of his best friends, along with the possibility that it may have been something more.