A/N: Somehow this is even more plotless than Chapter 1 (how?). It's for LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie, who's sitting on some sneezy Sam that some day, if we're good, she may share.
Sunny day, sidewalk. Spring's in full bloom.
Sam gasps, pauses, and sneezes. And again. And again. Each time, his head slams forward, hair flopping into his face, brushing his cheeks. Each time, he shields his nose in the crook of his elbow, lips brushing his sweatshirted arm when he rubs away the wetness.
"Lookin' a little flushed there, Sam."
"Yeah," Sam pants, and just has time to rub his itchy eyes before the tingling starts up again in his nose, forcing him to suck a breath deep into his lungs, hover aching and full of air, and then explode forward again in a spray of mist that gets shielded, this time, by his cupped palms.
"You gonna live?"
Sam doesn't even get the chance to straighten up, can only nod as the tingling starts again...
end