Princes Don't Get Sick - (19 Parts)

[Aprilcot]

OOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! I need more!!!! This is getttting too good!

Please stop torturing us by leaving us on edge!!!

[angora48]

Thanks for all the lovely compliments, everyone. I'm glad people like it. Here's Part 10.

Special occasions at the palace always made David feel awkward and uncouth. Everyone at these functions was stiff, formal, privileged. David didn’t fit in with these people. He didn’t know all the rules, he was uncomfortable in a suit, and he was awful at mingling with Gilboa’s upper crust.

While the princess’s kind face was a welcome sight at such events, David knew he couldn’t spend the evening at Michelle’s side. Their relationship was a well-guarded secret, and so he could only steal glances at her from across the table or make superficial small talk. He called her “princess”, and she called him “captain” – stiff, formal.

Thankfully, the dinner was over now. David found it next to impossible to eat in the king’s presence. He was far too nervous about using the wrong glass or spilling something. As it was, David had accidentally dipped his sleeve (his very expensive sleeve, thanks to Jack) into his soup during the first course.

Now, everyone milled about the ballroom. David tried to stay out of sight, sitting by the wall and allowing people to come to him rather than seeking them out. The royal family was allowed no such reservations. Michelle and Jack were constantly in motion, flitting from guest to guest. The queen, ever-present at the king’s side, was an elegant and gracious hostess who seemed never to tire. Silas himself, only just returned from a two-week trip overseas, made nice with anyone and everyone. Being royalty had to be exhausting.

After twenty minutes of this, David needed a reprieve from all that high society. He escaped the ballroom and stole down a hallway. Just a moment of privacy, of peace.

Suddenly, Jack came striding out of the ballroom. He brushed past David and slipped into the now-empty kitchen. David didn’t mind – Jack will be Jack, after all, and Jack generally held no regard for David – and he was about to head back into the party when a noise in the kitchen caught his attention.

“Heh-Shuhhh! Eh-Chiooo! Ha… Ih-CHUHHH!” David peered in and watched Jack wipe his nose with a handkerchief. The prince bent down over the counter, muffling harsh-sounding coughs into the crook of his arm. He groaned and rested his head on the counter.

David quietly entered the kitchen and approached the prince. He put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Jack?”

At David’s touch, Jack immediately snapped to attention. “Shepherd,” he said, hastily adjusting his suit. “I was just –”

“Are you all right, Jack?” David asked. Early in the evening, he’d noticed Jack rubbing his nose and remembered that the prince had come down with a cold, but he’d had no idea Jack was feeling so badly.

“I’be fide,” Jack told him dismissively. “I just deeded a bobedt.”

“You sound awful,” David said, forgetting for a second that he was addressed the crown prince of Gilboa. “You should be in bed.”

“Dot ad opshod this evedig,” Jack said. With a short gasp, he produced his handkerchief again. “Ah-SHIUHHH!” He sniffled wetly and coughed into the handkerchief. “Whed the queed holds a badquet, there c–” A sudden cough cut him short. “…There cad be doh excuses,” he finished.

“That can’t be,” David protested. “Surely if she knew how badly you felt, the queen would allow –”

“The queed will do doh such thig,” Jack replied. He sank, resting his elbows on the counter as he wearily rubbed his temple. “Like I said – doh excuses.”

“But you’re sick!” David exclaimed.

To David’s surprise, Jack laughed, which quickly gave way to more coughing. “Pridces dod’t get sick, David,” he said once he caught his breath. “Didd’t you doh that?” At David’s quizzical expression, Jack made a small smile. “Gettig sick is sobethig that hubads do, add id case you haved’t heard, beig royalty isd’t the sabe as beig hubad.” He sniffled and scrubbed his nose with his finger. “In the eyes of the public, royalty is idvulderable – we don’t g-get… sick…” He turned away, cupping his hands over his mouth. “Eh-SHOOO! Ugh…” He pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and gingerly dabbed at his nose.

“Uh – bless you,” David said quickly.

Jack smirked ruefully. “Right,” he said. He coughed once and cleared his throat. “So, yes, princes dod’t get stuffed up. They dod’t get headaches or… chills…” His voice grew low, and he bit his lip. Were his cheeks flushing a little? Quickly, he rubbed his nose and cleared his throat again; he seemed self-conscious. “That’s part of our appeal,” he went on. “That otherworldly sedse of bystery, the idea that we’re sobething above all of theb.”

Closing his eyes, Jack rubbed his forehead. He winced. “Could you…?” he said vaguely, gesturing toward the sink.

“Oh! Right,” David said, springing into action.

“Glasses to your right,” Jack told him. “Bottob shelf.” He brought a hand to his throat and massaged it slightly. David nodded.

“Of course, in reality,” Jack continued, “princes do, id fact, catch colds. As a point of idterest, we also get hiccups add even use the bathroob od occasion.”

David had to smile at that. “Good to know,” he said, bringing Jack the water.

“Thadks,” Jack said. He pressed the glass against the side of his forehead.

“I still think it’s illogical,” David commented as Jack took a small drink of water.

“Doh wod said bodarchies were supposed to be logical,” Jack replied. He grabbed a saltshaker off the counter and began shaking it over his glass.

“I just mean, the queen’s motivations,” David explained. “After all, if she wants people to, uh…” He trailed off as Jack walked to the sink and started to gargle a mouthful of saltwater.

“Go od,” Jack said after spitting the water into the sink. “I’be listeding.”

David couldn’t think of much that would be more disrespectful, but he decided not to address it. He knew he usually appreciated a bit of extra leeway when he was sick. “If, um…” he began fumblingly, “if she wants people to think you’re invulnerable, it doesn’t make sense to force you to attend public functions when you’re sick.” Jack leaned over the sink and splashed water on his face, then carefully blotted it dry with a spare towel. “After all, if she doesn’t want people to see you feeling sick, why would she put you in front of them?”

“Dod’t try to fathob the bides of the bodarchs, Shepherd,” Jack advised. “It’s dot worth th… the eff-ort… Heh-CHEHHH!” He sighed and pulled out his handkerchief once more; he blew his nose thoroughly.

“But it’s pointless!” David argued. “Anyone who looks at you, they’re going to know right away that you’re sick and should be in bed. How could they not? It’s counterproductive.”

And then, Jack did a very curious thing. After folding his handkerchief and returning it to his pocket, he straightened, fixed his tie, and gave David a small, wry smile. Then, he came alive, turning to an imaginary person at his side. “Counselor!” he exclaimed, holding out his hand. “How good to see you! How’s your wife?” He turned to his other side. “Good evening, ambassador. I trust you had a safe journey from Austeria?” Quick and lively, he pivoted again. “Madam,” he said with a slight bow, “always a great pleasure when you’re in the city.” He kissed an imaginary hand, then turned once more and looked at David, raising an eyebrow.

David was impressed, to say the least. He could hear the weakness in the prince’s voice, but no congestion and only a very slight rasp. Except for Jack’s complexion, which was paler than normal, he gave no impression of how miserable he obviously felt – he appeared bright and animated. “I – how did you do that?” he finally stammered.

Jack smirked. “Good use of saltwater, a handkerchief, and sheer force of will, Shepherd,” he told him. “The years of practice don’t hurt, either.” With that, he moved past David and returned to the ballroom.

[Aprilcot]

Poor, poor Jack... I almost feel sorry for him haha

Please give us more!!!

[obsessed]

Amazingly fast updates and beautifully written. Loveeee it.

[Marceline]

Aw this is cute! I also love the quick updates!

[The Sneezster]

I'm still following this story, and enjoying it very much. Well done!

[angora48]

I'm going out of town, so there won't be an update tomorrow. Since Part 11 is kind of short, I'll post the next two parts. Here's Part 11.

It was just after 12:30, and things were finally wrapping up. “Take care, minister,” Jack said to a departing guest. He sounded all right, but it hurt to talk – it required a great deal of self-control not to wince every time he spoke.

Jack’s father was bidding farewell to Shepherd. “Stop by in the morning, David,” he said. “There are a few things I want to go over before everyone assembles for council.”

“Yes, sir,” Shepherd replied in his eager-to-please way. Jack was annoyed that Shepherd had caught him looking so weak. For the remainder of the evening, it had seemed that the captain was never far away from Jack. Jack had regularly noticed Shepherd looking in his direction, as if the queen’s watchful eyes weren’t intrusion enough.

Now, Shepherd and Jack’s sister played their little game where they pretended they weren’t sleeping with one another. “It was good to see you, princess,” Shepherd said courteously.

“Have a good night, captain,” Michelle replied. They disguised themselves well, but Jack knew better. After all, he too was well versed at keeping love hidden.

Within a quarter of an hour, the last remaining guests said their good nights. Jack had thought it would never end. For the last hour-and-a-half of the banquet, he’d had to remove himself from conversations with increasing regularity, always stealing away to the bathroom to sneeze or have a coughing fit or blow his nose. Always the bathroom – after his encounter with Shepherd, Jack had learned not to retreat to the kitchen.

Now, at the end of an agonizingly long evening, Jack was dead on his feet. When the final partygoer left the palace, Jack could have collapsed right then and there – he was so tired. Besides that, his head was throbbing and he felt unpleasantly hot.

“Finally,” the king said. “Rose, dear, I know you love to show us off before the people, but I’m jetlagged and I couldn’t stand to look at another face this evening. I suggest we all get to bed.” Jack often butted heads with his father, but at that declaration, Jack could have hugged him.

Jack’s mother smiled accommodatingly. “Your word, after all, is law,” she told the king. She gave a nod to the house staff. “Good work, everyone. You have served your king well.”

As the family went their separate ways, the queen called to Jack. “Hang on,” she told him. “A word?”

Jack’s knees felt weak from being on his feet all night, and his nose was starting to run yet again, but he stopped and turned to her. “Yes?” he asked, running a quick finger beneath his nose.

The queen walked over to Jack. She placed an affectionate hand on his cheek. “You did very well tonight,” she said. “I’m proud of you.”

Jack nodded. “I told you dot to worry,” he said. “I know what’s expected of be.” He turned toward his shoulder and coughed a little.

“I hope you’re not feeling too uncomfortable,” she added.

Ah, so that’s what she was doing. Now that the grand evening had passed without incident, she was able to make her transition from queen back to mother. While Jack appreciated the consideration in principle, he couldn’t ignore the fact that his mother’s concern for his well-being came only after she saw that her banquet wasn’t disrupted. As a result, he only said, “Thadk you. I’be going to bed.” He turned and walked down the hall, coughing into his fist.

As he walked, Jack undid his tie, unbuttoned his collar, and peeled off his suit jacket. He found the shirt beneath it to be damp with sweat – this didn’t bode well for him. “Ah-SHUHHH!” A loud sneeze snuck up on him, and he just managed to throw a hand up to half-cover his face. With a slight groan, he wiped his nose messily on the back of his head.

Upon arriving at his bedroom, Jack lethargically slipped out of his shirt, shoes, and pants, leaving everything in a heap on the floor. It was all he could do to pull on a T-shirt and sweatpants before flopping on his mattress. He was half-asleep by the time he pulled the blankets over himself. “Heh-chiooo!” he sneezed into his pillow. Thank God the evening was finally over. Now, he could sleep.

[angora48]

And Part 12. This one's very plot-heavy - more talking and less sneezing. I guess I'm just hoping that at this point, everyone's sucked in, and they'll read it anyway. More good stuff on Sunday!

Jack brushed his teeth in a drowsy, distracted manner. He avoided his reflection – he knew he looked awful. There was no reason to dwell on it and look at his reddish nose and the circles beneath his eyes, both of which colored his otherwise pale face. He rinsed out his mouth and gasped a little as his nose tickled suddenly. “Hah-eh-CHIEHHH!” Messy. Making a face, Jack grabbed a tissue to wipe off his hands and face.

He coughed roughly into his hands. It had only taken moments to fall asleep last night, but the sleep that had come had been fitful. There had been a great deal of tossing, strange dreams that Jack couldn’t remember well, and fits of coughing that roused him from sleep. This morning, his head was completely stopped up, his chest hurt, and every swallow brought with it acute pain.

Considering all of this, Jack didn’t bother dressing before breakfast. He entered the kitchen in his pajamas, rubbing his throat unhappily. “Are you all right?” Michelle asked him. Jack felt that answering such a ridiculous questioning wouldn’t be worth the discomfort of speaking, so he merely shot her a dark look.

Jack’s father had reclaimed his usual place at the stove, where he was busily preparing eggs and sausage. “Dud for be, thadks,” Jack said, grimacing at how ugly his voice sounded. “I’ll just have toast.”

“I’m a little busy here, Jack,” Silas replied dismissively. Of course, he was. Stifling a cough, Jack trudged to the refrigerator and found a loaf of bread to bring to the toaster.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the king asked.

Jack frowned, taken aback. “What do you bead?” he asked.

Silas remained nonchalant, kept tending to the eggs. “I just want to know why you’re putting your dirty hands all over our food and appliances,” he explained.

This remark hit Jack like a smack in the chest. “I… what?” he stammered.

“It just seems inconsiderate to the family,” the king went on. “After all, you have such a bad cold – everyone knows that.”

Jack’s mother glanced at Michelle. “Silas?” the queen said. “What’s this about?”

“For God’s sake,” Silas said, “what the hell did Jack think he was doing last night? Parading before the public in that contemptible state, letting anyone and everyone see just how weak he was.”

“I thought Jack did an admirable job at the banquet,” Michelle broke in. “He wasn’t feeling well, yes, but he didn’t let on to anyone.”

“Oh, of course,” Jack’s father said. “That’s why I saw him coughing and rubbing his nose on television last night – very discrete, indeed.”

“What?” Jack asked, cringing when his voice cracked.

“After my plane landed,” Silas explained. “On the way to the banquet – there was a television in the car, and I couldn’t help but notice Candace Williamson asking him if he was sick. Not exactly a secret then, is it, Jack?”

“Father, it’s really not a big deal!” Michelle insisted. “He just has a cold. Is it really so terrible if someone notices?”

“Are you joking?” Silas asked. “When people look to Jack, they should see the future king. They should have unquestioning belief in his character, his strength. Last night, anyone attending that banquet or watching the news saw nothing but a sniffling, sniveling, weak man. And men are not kings.”

Since this conversation began, Jack hadn’t moved from his spot by the toaster. He’d barely remembered to continue breathing the whole time. Now, jaw clenched, he spoke. “What do you wadt be to do?” he asked. “It’s dot by fault I got sick.”

“He’s right, Silas,” Rose said. “Really, we made the best of an unfortunate situation.”

“I was once far sicker than Jack has ever been, and there was no talk of me going against my royal nature,” Michelle pointed out.

“That was different,” Silas argued. “No one can blame you for the cancer.”

“But I cad be blamed for a cold?” Jack asked. “Why are Bichelle’s sickdesses merely sickdesses, while bide show a deficiency of character?”

“My throne is not Michelle’s to inherit,” Silas told him. “She will not wield supreme power over the kingdom. But when the people look at you, they need to have faith that you will be able to.”

Because it hated him, Jack’s cold chose that moment to plague him. “Eh-hhhchhh!” Jack pressed a hand to his mouth and held his nose to stifle the sneeze. It plugged up his ears and sent a jolt of pain shooting up the bridge of his nose. “Ah!” he cried, before he could stop himself.

Silas shook his head and took the eggs off the heat. “Weak,” he said. “And what’s more, you show absolutely flagrant disregard for anyone else.”

“Silas, be reasonable,” the queen implored.

But the king paid her no mind. “In that state,” he said, walking a bit closer to Jack, “in that condition, you roam all about the palace, thinking nothing of your sister, your mother, and I. With no consideration for the duties to which we must attend and the appearances we are expected to make, you expose everyone to your illness and spread contagion to everything you touch. Weak, and selfish.”

Normally, Jack could square his shoulders and steel himself against his father’s disparaging remarks and poisonous words. But now, to receive such a thorough dressing-down when Jack felt as miserable as he did, he had no reply. He had nothing with which to counter. He simply stared at his feet and used what limited energy he had to keep his eyes from welling over.

Silas turned away from Jack. “Make your toast, and eat it in your room,” he said as he prepared the breakfast plates. “I don’t want to see you again until you’ve gotten rid of that cold.”

The tension in the room was suffocating. Silas brought three plates to the table. Michelle and the queen sat in silence; the only sound was the king’s fork scraping against his plate.

Finally, Jack forced himself out of his stunned paralysis. Leaving the bread on the counter, he strode quickly past the kitchen table, threw the door open, and stormed out of the room.

As he did, he nearly collided with David Shepherd.

[obsessed]

Aw, absolutely adorable and full of suspense. Full. Of. Suspense. And yet you leave us? *sob*

Hehe, kidding! Hope you have fun out of town and Sunday will come soon.

Incredible how you manage to keep typing, typing, and typing updates. If I had that ability? Phew.

Amazing.

[Selene]

Poor Jack! Those were really hard words from is father. But this part was so well written! I'd love to sacrifice some of the sneezing to get more of such amazing bits!

[The Rescue]

This is absolutely marvelous.

[snuffles]

I'm sucked in

Wow, this is so amazing! Poor Jack!

[Aprilcot]

You have got to continue!!!

I can't wait any longer!!!!

[Turtle]

I don't often comment but in this case, I must. Very nicely written! Love it!

[confetishcake]

You're an amazing writer, I can't wait for more!

T_T everyones so mean to poor Jack! I wish I could've hugged him just now!

[angora48]

Hello, again! I'm back, and I bring Part 13.

David jumped out of the way as Jack came bursting out of the kitchen. Jack turned and glared at him. “What are you doing here?” the prince demanded. He sounded congested and so hoarse it hurt David’s throat just to listen to him.

“I… Silas asked me to come,” David stuttered, taking in the sight of the prince before him. Jack was an absolute mess. He wasn’t dressed, his hair was disheveled, and his face was pale and sweaty. More than that, waves of anger were rippling through him, as evidenced by his clenched jaw and the slight tremors in his hand as he raised it to his nose.

Jack stood there for a moment, shoulders tensed, keeping a finger pressed under his nose. Presently, he relaxed slightly and lowered his hand with a sigh. He wriggled his nose and sniffled wetly. “How long have you bed standing there?”

“…I heard what your father said,” David admitted.

Jack made no reply to that. He simply walked past David and began stalking down the hall. David knew he was expected to go to the king, but he couldn’t leave things at that. “That was very harsh of him,” he said, trailing after Jack. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Thed dod’t say addything,” Jack told him. He stopped walking abruptly and began coughing into his fist. He placed a hand against the wall to steady himself.

“Are you all right?” David asked, reaching for Jack’s shoulder.

“Get away,” Jack said, shrugging David off. “Haven’t you heard? You shouldn’t be dear be, or you risk codtagion.”

“Don’t listen to him,” David encouraged. “I don’t know why Silas would say things like that.”

“Heh-SHUHHH!” Jack sneezed, covering his mouth as he turned toward the wall. “Why wouldd’t he?” he finally said, continuing his walk down the hall. “By father loves to rebide be how buch I fail to beasure up, what a disappointbedt I ab.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” David insisted.

“What do you doh?” Jack retorted. He stumbled a bit and fell against the wall.

“Here,” David said, concerned. “Maybe you should sit down for a minute.”

“I’be fide!” Jack said, waving him away. “I’be – I’be just dizzy.” He stifled a cough and rubbed his forehead with both hands.

“Sit, Jack,” David insisted. “Just for a minute.” The prince glowered at him, but Jack did sink to the floor. He rested his head on his knees.

“…Should I fetch someone?” David asked hesitantly.

“Doh,” Jack replied with a glum sniffle.

David stood while Jack sat in the hall. Jack’s attitudes were hard to follow on the best of days, but lately, David could hardly tell where the prince stood. Two days ago, he’d been friendly, helpful, and amiable to work-a-day Gilboans in the Ice Cream Shack. Last night, he’d put on a demeanor of charm over a miserable disposition. And now, he was clearly angry and very upset. David could scarcely keep up.

One thing was for sure, though. If these occurrences were normal when Jack got sick – the obvious misery, the need to conceal the illness, and the cold remarks from the king – David could see why Jack had seemed so good-natured at Ice Cream Shack. If David was in Jack’s position and he knew how dreadful everything was going to become, a few sniffles and soft-serve ice cream would’ve seemed like a vacation.

David noticed Jack rising slowly. “Here, let me help you,” David said.

“Get off,” Jack grumbled in a low voice, but David took the prince by the arm and helped him to unsteady feet. Jack’s hot skin startled David.

“You’re feverish,” he said.

“Yes, imagide that,” Jack muttered.

“No – really feverish,” David said, staying close to Jack’s side. “Let me give you a hand.”

Jack scowled, but he didn’t turn David away. David helped the prince back to his room, carefully keeping him steady. Once they arrived, David was surprised when Jack headed, not for his bed, but for his dresser. “What are you doing?” David asked.

“Packing,” Jack replied. “I’be going to by apartbedt.”

Ah, the prince’s bachelor pad. David had only seen it once, and he usually forgot that it existed. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked. “I mean, with no one to look after you…”

“I have service bed who cad get be what I deed,” Jack said. He turned away from David and coughed raggedly. “Addything to – Heh-Shuhhh! – ugh, to get away frob the palace for a few days.”

“Why didn’t you go there before?” David asked. “I mean, if you don’t like the way the king and queen…”

“Because I didd’t thidk of it, all right?” Jack replied tersely. “I bead, it’s dot as if I dorbally do buch sleeping whed I’be there. It’s gederally reserved for… other activities.”

“Are you sure you should go alone?” David asked. “I mean…”

“I’be quite sure,” Jack told him. He trudged to the door, letting his bag drag behind him. One of the prince’s security detail stood outside the room. “We’re going to the apartbedt,” Jack said.

“Yes, sir,” the man said, taking Jack’s suitcase. “Anything else you require?”

“Send sobebody to the kitched,” Jack said. “Get bread, butter, and sobething to drink. Oh, and we’re goig to deed a toaster.”

“Right way, sir,” the man said, pulling out his cell phone.

Regardless of how the prince acted, David didn’t like the idea of Jack removing himself from court when he was so miserably sick and in need of looking after. “Jack…” he began.

“Save it, Shepherd,” Jack replied. “Go to the king. Have a productive day. Bake by father proud – you always do.” The service man guided him down the hall, leaving David alone in the prince’s messy room.

[The Sneezster]

Aww . . . just lovely and adorable, my dear. Good job.

[snowshie]

I've never even heard of this show, but this fic is freaking fabulous. I seriously need to go out and find it now. And I can't wait for more.

[happysparkleprincess]

yay! I'm glad you came back and posted more of the story :-)

I love it even more with every chapter

[obsessed]

Aw, too adorable. And the suspense which seems to be omnisciently building... lovely work. =)

[angora48]

Part 14. I've noticed that much pretty every time I write a new fic, it's a little bit longer than the last one. This bodes well for when I finally get around to writing my epic, the-whole-crew-gets-sick Firefly fic. Anyway - here you are!

When Jack reached his apartment, he remembered how much he hated it. It was fashionable over functional – all postmodern touches and sleek coolness. It reminded him of the women he brought here after parties. Nothing like Joseph’s apartment. Joseph’s apartment was warm and inviting with earth tones and ratty old quilts. Jack missed the hell out of Joseph.

Still, Jack’s apartment was a vast improvement over the palace, where his parents made demands on him or spewed their poison all over him. As a matter of fact, Jack was deeply annoyed with himself that he hadn’t thought of going to the apartment earlier. Like it or not, it was a convenient hideaway, and it shouldn’t have taken this morning’s disaster to remind him that he could escape.

What’s more, Shepherd had been around again. Jack didn’t know why that boy insisted on following him around everywhere, but it infuriated him. As if Jack needed additional reminders of how much his father regarded David over Jack. Gilboa’s own golden boy hero who took out a tank and brokered peace with Gath and always showed up to save the day and made Jack look weak and incapable by comparison.

“Put it over there,” Jack instructed the bodyguard holding the sack of stuff from the palace kitchen.

“Yes, sir,” he said. “Did you want toast?”

“Yeah,” Jack replied, sniffling. He turned to another service man. “Bring by clothes to the bedroob.” The man nodded and disappeared up the stairs.

“Scotch, sir?” the first man asked, pulling a bottle out of the sack.

Jack frowned. “Why did you bring scotch?”

“You said you wanted something to drink,” the man replied.

Jack sighed, irritated. “Sobething to drink for breakfast! Do you take your toast with scotch?”

The bodyguard fidgeted. “Sorry – misunderstanding. Would you like me to pick up something else? There’s a grocery store five blocks from here.”

“Doh, forget it,” Jack grumbled. The toast popped up, and Jack put it on a plate, hastily slathering it with butter. “I’ll be id by roob,” he said.

The man nodded. “Call if you need anything, sir.”

Truth be told, Jack wanted to get rid of the lot of them. He felt irritated and woozy and very sick. At the moment, all he really wanted was to be left alone to sulk and sleep. “Get out,” he told the service man in his room.

“Yes, sir,” the man said with a nod. He stole away quietly.

Jack kicked off his shoes and yanked back the neat blankets on the bed. He sat down and sank back, propping himself up with a pillow. He took about four bites of toast before he decided his throat hurt too badly to eat. He dropped the plate onto the end table and half-sat, half-lay on the bed with his arms crossed.

“Hih-CHUHHH!” Jack wiped his nose and stared at his messy hands. He’d forgotten to grab the tissue box from his room at the palace. Great. Because he had no desire to send his service men out for more, Jack staggered to his feet and stumbled to the adjoining bathroom. He grabbed the toilet paper roll and returned to the bed, lying down with a noisy sigh. He blew his nose and dropped the toilet paper on the roll beside him. He was in a terrible mood.

* * *

David was incredibly bored. He’d been greatly flattered when Silas had made him an advisor, and he was always eager to serve his king, but he’d had no idea that so much of being an advisor would be so boring. While he was interested in all matters concerning the war and the current peace plans, David didn’t know the first thing about the Ministry of Trade and its big plans for opening up the eastern market. He didn’t care to.

He also felt bad about the way Jack had stormed out. The prince could certainly be self-involved and petty, but between the queen’s obsession with the banquet and the king’s venomous lecture that morning, Jack had been through the wringer the past few days. Any and all tantrums were probably justified, and it didn’t seem right for him to go off by himself with only hired help to look after him. Whenever David was sick, he always felt better when someone took some time to see to his needs, and no one here seemed to care how Jack was feeling. They cared how Jack’s sickness might affect them and their plans, but there was no concern for the prince himself.

“Captain Shepherd?” Chancellor Hanson said with a frown.

David snapped to attention. “Yes?”

“You didn’t vote,” the chancellor said. “Do you abstain?”

“…Uh… yes,” David replied, having no idea what they were even voting on.

“Very well,” Hanson said. “The motion carries. Harold Bramden has been elected head of the Energy Research Committee.” David told himself to pay attention.

“Enough governance for one morning,” the king announced. “Let’s break for lunch and reconvene in an hour.”

“Yes, sir,” Hanson said.

As the various ministers and court members dispersed, David glanced at his watch. An hour – that gave him plenty of time. He threaded his way through the crowded hallways and left the building.

[The Sneezster]

Darling, I remain your humble fan.

[obsessed]

Mm, well keep writing. No complaints against length. I could never write that much or that fast.

[ID2006]

This is awesome. I can't believe I misseed so much in such few days gone. Love love love this.

p.s. Excitedly awaiting this Firefly fic I hear rumoured to come.

[angora48]

Part 15!

The man at the door raised his eyebrows when he saw David. “News from court, captain?” he asked.

“No,” David said. “We halted for lunch, and I thought I’d stop by and see Jack.”

The service man frowned. “The prince might not be awake. Hold on.” He flipped his phone open and dialed. “Keller? It’s Holt.” He turned away from David and spoke in a low voice. “Go on up,” he finally said, putting the phone back in his pocket.

“Thanks,” David said, and he took the elevator up to Jack’s apartment.

“He’s in the upstairs bedroom, captain,” said the bodyguard who answered the door, “but I don’t know if I’d advise it. It’s ‘enter at your own risk.’”

David frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The prince isn’t exactly good company at the moment,” the man explained. “He’s rather… growly.”

David worried he may have made a mistake. The last thing he wanted was to get his head bitten off for trying to be nice. But ultimately, he said, “Thanks for the warning. I’ll be on my guard.” He walked up the stairs and, when there was no response to a knock at Jack’s bedroom door, David went inside.

The prince was in bed. He’d pulled the sleek, crisp sheets up around him, but it didn’t look particularly comfortable. It looked cold, sterile. Jack himself looked miserable and half-asleep. He raised his head slightly when the door opened. At the sight of David, he groaned and rolled onto his stomach. “Cad’t you leave be alode?” came his scratchy voice, muffled into his pillow.

“I thought you might be hungry,” David said, cautiously stepping forward.

“Well, I’be dot,” Jack muttered. “Go away.”

“Are you sure about that?” David asked.

Jack turned back over with a scowl. As he pushed himself into a sitting position, he said, “What the hell are you talk–” When he saw the paper bag in David’s hand, he frowned in surprise. “What’s that?” he asked.

David held up the bag so Jack could see the logo. “Cheeseburgers,” he said, “and curly fries.”

Jack’s face broke into a surprised, exhausted smile. “David Shepherd, you beautiful bastard,” he said. “Get a chair.”

David set the bag on Jack’s end table and walked to fetch the chair at Jack’s desk (which he imagined was only in the room for aesthetic reasons – David had never seen an apartment that looked less lived-in). Jack reached for the bag, but a sudden gasp and a flutter of his eyelids had him grabbing the roll of toilet paper beside it. “Heh-Eshhooo! Eh-CHIUHHH! Hahhh… ugh!” Jack groaned and sniffled.

“Don’t you have tissues?” David asked.

“Left theb at the palace – I was id a hurry to get out,” Jack replied, wiping his nose. “Did you get lunch for yourself as well?”

“Unless you’re going to eat two cheeseburgers,” David told him.

Jack smiled drowsily. “Dot a chance,” he said. “You take theb out, thed – I dod’t wadt to touch your food.”

David did as he was asked and set a medium order of curly fries and a cheeseburger wrapped in paper before Jack. Jack unwrapped his burger and took a bite. “Oh by g– Shepherd, that’s so good,” Jack murmured.

“I thought you might want something a little less – well, regal – than all that rich food at the banquet last night,” David said.

“You’re telling be,” Jack replied. He covered his mouth and coughed.

“Are you all right?” David asked. “Can I get you some water?”

“Sure,” Jack said with a sigh. He rubbed his forehead.

David set his food on the chair and strode to the bathroom. After a bit of hunting, he found a glass, rinsed it out, and filled it with cold water. “Thadks,” Jack said.

“Don’t mention it,” David replied. He sat back down and turned his attention to his meal.

Jack frowned, suspicious. “What’s your aggle?” he asked.

“My what?” David asked, confused.

“Oh – sorry,” Jack said. He ripped a few squares of toilet paper off the roll and turned away to blow his nose. “Your angle,” he repeated, enunciating. “What is it?”

“I… don’t understand,” David admitted.

“Why are you being so dice to me?” Jack asked. “I – dabbit…” He reached for the toilet paper again. “Hah-eh-CHOOOO!”

“Bless you,” David offered quietly.

“Yeah,” Jack croaked in reply. He grimaced and cleared his throat. “As I was saying – after the way our last codservashod went, I hardly deserve your codsideration.” He brought a finger to his nose and sniffed.

“It isn’t fair, what your father said to you,” David explained. “I thought that, after an unpleasant experience like that, you could use a little comfort.”

“Oh,” Jack replied. He looked down as he adjusted his sheets busily. When he looked back up at David, he wore a confident look – David didn’t know if it was genuine. “Well, I’be fide.”

“It’s more than just that,” David went on, fumbling a bit. “I just – I didn’t think it was right for you to be alone when –”

“I’be dot alode,” Jack countered quickly. “I have three bed seeing to by deeds.”

“Men in your employ,” David replied. “I just thought you could use a friend, that’s all.”

Jack’s large eyes got even larger when he heard that statement. “Yes, well…” Jack mumbled, looking at anything in the room but David, “you certaidly doh good food – I’ll grant you that. That’s sobething most bebbers of the court cad’t seeb to grasp. I appreciate it.” He stared down at his fries as rubbed his nose.

“So,” Jack said, clearing his throat as he changed the subject, “what thrilling batters are being discussed at coudcil today?”

“Actually, I should going,” David said. He swallowed the last bite of his cheeseburger. “We’re expected back at court by 1:30, and I have to find a cab.” He stood up and moved to return the chair.

“Leave it – sobewod will get it later,” Jack instructed. “And dod’t bother with a cab. By driver’s dowdstairs. Tell hib to give you a ride. If he gives you addy skepticisib, tell hib I said so. He wod’t question be – Heh-SHUHHHH!” He dropped a few fries onto the mattress and sneezed into the crook of his arm.

“I – thank you,” David said, surprised. Who was being uncharacteristically nice now? “And bless you.” Jack gave him a small nod of acknowledgement. After shutting Jack’s door behind him, David trotted down the stairs, took the elevator down, and headed outside.