His silence was the first thing she heard. 

She paused, listening. Nothing. 

That was strange in itself. Today, she happened to be two minutes and twenty-one seconds late, and on a normal morning, he would have called her to his office to inform her of the fact. Even stranger was the note in the pneumatic tubes for her. Written in his immaculate script, it said: Slide my correspondence under the door. Get file XV15F. 

 Lilly quickly sorted his letters, throwing away all but the business proposals and the pink letter, which she stored. The letters were slid under the door along with the file. Lilly waited for a response, and when she received none, shrugged. Another message slid through the tubes, and Lilly quickly found those too. An hour passed, and still he didn't call to her. The pneumatic tubes hadn't brought her a message from him nearing fifteen minutes, which worried her. Lilly stared anxiously at the door separating their offices. It didn't move. 

She got up from where she'd been curled in her uncomfortable office chair. She straightened her hat and tailcoat and stepped out to Mr. Stone. "Mr. Stone?" He turned around to face the secretary. 

"Yes Mr. Linton?" 

"Has Mr. Ambrose left?" Mr. Stone looked confused. 

"No Mr. Linton. I haven't seen him yet today." Nodding her thanks, Lilly went back inside. A message flew out of the tubes with a, Plink! Hurriedly, Lilly reached for the message. With a small gasp she stared at the shaky script scrawled across the parchment. 

File XXV1... 

The rest was unintelligible, slanting off the page. Lilly rummaged in her trouser pockets for the keys to his office, praying she hadn't forgotten it at home. Yes! Triumphantly, she held up the ring of keys and inserted the right one into the keyhole. A second later, she stumbled into the dimly lit room. Her eyes widened at the sight of her employer. His usually impeccable appearance was perfect no more. His tailcoat was strewn haphazardly on the edge of his desk and he was wearing only his vest and long sleeved white shirt. The top 3 buttons on his shirt were undone, revealing the sweat laden skin beneath. His bow tie was askew as well. Despite the sweat beading on his chest and forehead, Lilly could see that he was shivering. 

"Mr. Ambrose!!" Lilly hurried to his side. His right hand was clenching his pen and still trying to write shakily on a piece of parchment. So far, he'd written over several of his words and most were slanting off the page. She could barely read the script. "Stop it! You're sick!" 

He tried to glare up at her. The icy powers he usually possessed seemed to have deserted him. She found only glazed blue eyes staring up at her. "N-not sick... J..ust-" A hacking cough erupted from his throat, which he immediately tried to stifle. Lilly placed a gentle hand on his forehead, yelping in shock. He was burning! Mr. Ambrose tried weakly to slap her hand away. "I.. am.. fine." This time, Lilly glared at him. 

"No you're not! You're sick! Extremely so! You have to go to a doctor and rest! You're quite frankly, burning up. Stop being so stubborn and admit that you're sick! You can't work like this." His usual silence greeted her. "Fine! If you won't stop working I'm going to grab a doctor, right now!" She stalked away, but he staggered out of his chair, gripping her wrist tightly. 

"Don't... Don't call one.. Waste of moneyy." Mr. Ambrose stood shakily, trying not to fall on top of her as well. Lilly, seeing this, pulled his arm over her shoulders, bearing most of his weight. 

"Fine, then. I won't. But we need to get you home, right now." He nodded meekly and steered them in the direction of his bathroom. Lilly followed him, confused. Weren't they going to his house? 

She opened the door for him. Mr. Ambrose staggered in, breathing deeply through his nose. His eyes were scrunched in pain. He slapped at a brick on the wall, fingers scrambling to pull it apart. Lilly watched in astonishment as a door knob appeared behind the fake brick. He turned it and the whole expanse of wall swung forward revealing his bedroom. 

Ignoring propriety, Lilly led Mr. Ambrose into his room and dropped him on the bed. He landed with a groan. "Sorry," she murmured. Mr. Ambrose nodded weakly, and as she went to find a gas lamp or window to light the room, dropped into a deep sleep. 

There were no windows in the room at all. There was one gas lamp though, and she lit it. The flame illuminated the dark, bare walls. The room was small, with a small alcove that served as a fireplace, a bed, and a dresser. She almost snorted. Of course Mr. Ambrose wouldn't waste his money on a bigger room, or a house for that matter. 

When she turned around, she saw that Mr. Ambrose had in fact fallen asleep and hadn't even managed to get inside his blankets. If he wasn't so sick, Lilly would have wasted time giggling at his positioning. He had face planted into his pillow, with his behind slightly in the air. Lilly placed the lamp carefully by the bedside and tried to remember the few times she'd been sick with a fever. Her aunt hadn't particularly cared, but her two kind sisters Ella and Gertrude had. They'd stripped her down to her chemise and given her a sponge bath with freezing water, causing her to squirm in displeasure. Then they'd bundled her up in blankets.

Her cheeks colored slightly, but, what could she do? He hadn't wanted her to call a doctor. Lilly reached for Mr. Ambrose's soaked shirt and vest, unbuttoning it quickly. She hung it on the edge of the bed to dry. He shivered still, though sweat collected on his chest and soaked the linen below him. She pulled the covers out from under him and wrapped it around him tightly like a cocoon. Still, he shivered. Lilly went to his dresser, pulling the drawers open. After shutting several of them very quickly, Lilly came upon a blanket folded neatly in the last one. She wrapped that one around him as well.

Lilly found a basin in the bathroom and filled it with freezing water from his shower. She grabbed his towel as well. Sitting next to him now, Lilly saw the pain in the drawn brows of his face. His face twitched slightly as though in pain. Unwrapping him from the blanket, Lilly wet the cloth and started to rub the towel down his well muscled arm. Then she switched to his other arm, then his face. Then his chest.

Every once in a while, Mr. Ambrose would twitch, and she held still, waiting for him to wake. He didn't, and she went back to bathing his forehead. An hour later, Lilly went back into his office. The parchment he'd scribbled on was still there. She tried to decipher the words.

Victor... Secretary.. Ifrit... Lilies.. Beautiful. 

What? That hadn't made sense at all. Shrugging, Lilly went out to Mr. Stone. He looked up, surprised. Mr. Linton was more disheveled than usual, his long brown hair sticking wetly to the sides of his round face.

"Yes Mr. Linton?"

"Get me some medicine. Mr. Ambrose is in need of it." Blanching at the mention of the elusive man, Mr. Stone scurried down stairs. Lilly went back to Mr. Ambrose and found to her surprise that he was awake.

"Mr. Linton..." He croaked. Lilly found what he was staring at and filled a cup with the pitcher of water on his dresser. She held the cup to his lips as he drank. He sat back, watching her. The pounding in his head had lessened considerably. Still he stared at the person who'd taken care of him. He had a distinct sense of her soft hands sponging him gently.

"Are you feeling better?" His silence was answer enough.

Yes.

"I've ordered Mr. Stone to get some medicine. We need to get your fever down."

He glared at her. "That is a complete waste."

She smiled weakly. "I'm quite the amazing caretaker sir but I can't fix everything." Mr. Stone's voice echoed at his office door. Lilly went to retrieve the medicine and when she'd come back she found him asleep again.

***

Rikkard mumbled tiredly, massaging his head. A piercing light was blinding him. "Head... 't hurts..." A soft voice shushed him gently, giving him a tablet to eat.

"It'll get better Rikkard. It's alright." The voice sounded familiar but in his dizzy state he couldn't quite tell who it was. "You go ahead and sleep Rikk. I'm right here." The woman held his hand softly as he fell back into darkness.

***

He retched into the basin, chest heaving with the contractions. Lilly rubbed his back. He retched once more, then sat back. She held water to his lips and he drank greedily, satiating his thirst. "I'll be back Mr. Ambrose- I just have to wash this out." He nodded weakly and watched as she hurried out, a frown on her lips.

Why was she doing this? She certainly didn't have. He definitely wasn't paying her over time for this. She reappeared again in the doorway, wiping her hands. She had taken her tailcoat and vest off and her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. "Are you feeling better?" 

"A little bit. However, my head is pounding. Keep your infernal din down, will you?" He turned away from her so he didn't have to see what his words had done to her again. 

***

He woke up again. This time, Lilly had fallen asleep on the floor next to his bed, a book on her lap. He glanced down. The Iliad. Homer's books were one of the only ones he owned, for good reason. Books were remarkably expensive (It's so true though! *cries*) and Homer had good philosophies. He was really all that was needed. 

For the first time, Mr. Ambrose noted the bags beneath her eyes. Her face was a little drawn, and he wondered when she'd last eaten. Surprising himself, Mr. Ambrose reached down and nudged Lilly awake. "Huh? Mr. Ambrose! Are you alright? Do you need some more medicine?" She staggered up and looked around her for the tablets. 

Mr. Ambrose caught her arm as it swung by, tugging her down closer to him. "Why are you doing this?" He croaked out. "You won't be paid overtime for this. I can take care of myself." 

"I don't doubt that you can Sir. I just felt that... You needed someone to be here for you. So I stayed." They stared into each other's eyes for a moment. Heaving an exaggerated sigh, he moved sideways, making more room on the bed. 

She cocked her head inquisitively to the side. He gestured down to the bed. She blushed lightly. "Mr. Ambrose, it really wouldn't be proper-" He pulled her down with surprising strength making her land ungracefully on his legs. "Oof! You could have just asked nicely!" Lilly complained, moving off his legs. She pressed on a particularly delicate part of him and he winced. Luckily she hadn't noticed. She curled against him, her back facing him. "Good night sir." 

"Good night." 

*** 

His parched throat was bothering him. His blankets were too hot. He wanted to put his shirt back on. He wanted to find his practically new tailcoat and make sure it was alright. But he couldn't move. He couldn't do it. She was asleep on his chest and he couldn't move. He didn't want to move.

Her breath tickled his chest. Her hair was spread next to her and her fist clenched the blanket on his chest. She was curled tightly by his side in order to fit on the bed. He hated the this feeling. Why did he feel so strange in his chest? Must be a side effect of the fever. 

She moved again, wrapping an arm tighter around his chest. He almost smiled. Almost. Whatever this strange feeling was, he was sure it would be gone by tomorrow. He fell asleep again. Unconsciously, he drew her closer to him.

The next morning he jolted awake to the feel of a soft hand brushing his hair away from his eyes. Lilly stared back at him, blushing. He grabbed her hand and it held tightly, giving it a soft squeeze. Whatever he'd been trying to tell her, she understood and a tender smile graced her features.

He struggled to get up and Lilly adjusted his pillows, easing him him down onto them. She stared silently down at her hands again. Mr. Ambrose started to speak. "What- what day is it?" 

"It's Thursday." He jolted up in surprise, then clutched at his head. 

"Thursday!? Get off, get out! I have to work. I may not even be the richest man in England anymore." He swung his legs out of bed, swaying lightly on his feet. He looked down. "Where is my shirt?" 

Blushing, Lilly pointed to his washed shirt, vest, and tailcoat, hanging on the edge of his bed. "I washed them for you." 

"Adequate job. Now leave, your Aunt must be worrying for you." 

"Yes sir! Would you like me to come back to work later?" Mr. Ambrose paused in his buttoning of the shirt. Her face tired and haggard, evidence of the stress she'd been under caring for him. The bags under his eyes still had not disappeared. He shook his head. 

"Take the rest of the week off, you may have caught my fever. Whatever made you stay and care for me? I could have had the Scarlet Fever." She stared back. 

"I made sure you didn't. Anyway, you still haven't paid me my wages sir. Who else would hire a woman?"  He looked away, tying his bow tie around his neck neatly. 

"You are dismissed for the day." 

"If you're head ache comes back sir, take the tablets. I think there are still two left." She gathered up her tailcoat and the outrageous peacock vest from the floor. She placed the Iliad back on the shelf along with Odyssey  and Aethiopis. Before she closed the door behind her, Mr. Ambrose said, in a strangely soft voice devoid of all the ice he used. 

"Thank you." 

Astonished, Lilly turned around. Mr. Ambrose was continuing to slide his arms into his coat, his back facing her. But she couldn't mistake the bright coloring of his ears. A grin split her face. He was human after all. She closed the door behind her and went home. 

This was an idea I'd been sitting on for a while. It's always Lilly sick, so why not Mr. A? Anyway, I'm still doing Modern AU's, it's just taking a little longer than anticipated. While I get back on track on it, a few random updates may come up. 

Oh, yeah! If you'd like me to write an idea of yours just comment it HERE: 

Karim is going to die. 

Thanks! 

-Manang15