C- Convalescence

Ehehe, here's the waaaay overdue sick fic you requested... Dx" Forgive me!
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Priscilla snuffled and buried herself back under the thick covers of the bed, trying to ignore the discomfort of a blocked nose and a throat both parched and sore. 

“Ugh.” she grumbled, then burst into another fit of hacking coughs.

“More water, cherie?”

Her husband-turned-nurse stood at the doorway, holding a mug and a damp towel. He set them down on the side table, then helped her up and passed her the mug.

Priscilla obediently took the mug, but wrinkled her nose after one sip of the warm liquid inside. “Dathes funny.” She slurred through congested sinuses.

Francis chuckled. “Nothing strange in it, just water, honey and lemon juice to soothe your throat. Not skin of a toad and eye of a newt."

Reassured, Priscilla continued to swallow a few more mouthfuls before setting it back down. "I hate being shick." 

“You’ll be up and about soon enough, cherie, that’s what the doctor said.” Francis patted his wife’s hand soothingly. “In the meantime, just rest.”

Priscilla huffed and flopped back down on the pillows petulantly. “Don’t wanna.”

“...Cherie, even Arabelle is more cooperative than you are.”

“But it’s booooring! There’s nothing to do save tossing and turning on the bed. I’m bored, and you’re not entertaining at all, so I’m not staying in bed anymore.”

Now it was Francis’ turn to huff indignantly. “My job is to nurse you back to health, not to be a stand-up comedian for you. Anyway, it’s time for your medicine now.”

“The medicine id yucky.” Priscilla wrinkled her nose and turned away from the white tablet held out in front of her.

Francis rolled his eyes at his wife’s protest. “Only young children are entitled to say that, and it’s just a tablet. One swallow and it’ll all be over.” He coaxed, then sighed as Priscilla vehemently shook her head.

“I promise it won’t taste that bad, really. Please, Priscilla?”

A stony stare.

“I’ll make you pasta later,” he added as an afterthought.

Priscilla blinked, silently weighing the cost and benefit of this proposal. “W-well...fine,” she relented and accepted the tablet. “But the pasta better be good.” Screwing up her courage, she swallowed the medicine, then grimaced as it slid down her throat. “It’s yuc-”

Her complaint morphed into an abrupt squeak when another far more welcome distraction was put to her. A pair of lips crashed onto hers and Francis wasted no time in letting this progress into an all-out, hands-grabbing, tongues-duelling kiss of pure passion. Whatever other protests that Priscilla might have had were immediately silenced, erased and forgotten.

“Cherie~”

“Mmm, Francis~”

Finally, they pulled apart (far too soon though) and lay on the twisted sheets in companionable silence. After a few moments, it was Francis who first spoke up, propped up on one arm. “Was that entertaining enough for you, cherie?”

Priscilla glared at him out of the corner of her eyes and swatted at him. “You shouldn’t have done that, you fool. Now you’re going to fall sick too.”

The smirk didn’t seem to fade off Francis’ face as he rolled back over onto the bed.