Whatever I Want

Kate stared at the sky through the windshield of the truck, heart in her mouth. It was early on in the season and they’d yet to catch a ‘good solid tornado’ so far, despite following the current storm cell halfway across Texas. She didn’t have high hopes for the current chase, but she wasn’t about to tell Tyler that. Riding shotgun in his truck, hot on the heels of a storm, accompanied by the excited whoops and yells of the rest of the crew over the radio, was the only place she could picture herself for the significant future. It was idyllic. So, every second she got to spend stealing glances at him as he drove before tornado season started for real and they had to have the cameras on at all times, was infinitely valuable.

“We have touchdown!” Tyler announced, and then faltered, squinting at the vortex as it hesitated to connect all the way to the ground. “-I think.”

Kate laughed. “We need Lily for a close up.”

“You’re the one who said we could ‘check this out ourselves’.” Tyler reminded her. “Plus since when do you rely on the fancy equipment?”

“Since I first started chasing, if you’re counting the Doppler.” Kate quipped back, glancing between him and the sky as she effortlessly balanced the conversation and her appraisal of the storm.

“Right, and before that you had cornfields and dandelions.” He called to mind several embarrassing stories that her mother had thoughtfully shared with him.

Kate’s face flushed. “Hey!”

“I mean if it works, it works.” He shrugged off her indignation, “Is it just me, or is she picking up a little speed?”

Kate’s focus snapped back to the sky, and she tilted her head, unsure if the vortex had even finished forming. “Maybe?”

“Let’s get a closer look.” Tyler abruptly spun the wheel, the truck swerving off the road and into the field where the tornado was touching down. Kate blinked in surprise, but made no comment. It didn’t seem like it was in any other use, all overgrown with long grass, so there was no harm done. By them, at least- the tornado was picking up quite a bit of the flora, even with it’s weakly connected vortex.

Before they’d even made it halfway across the field, the vortex started to collapse, dropping the limited debris it had accrued as it did so. Kate sighed, watching the tornado dissipate, her mind already calculating where it had lost steam, and what factors were missing.

“Well that was pathetic.” Tyler slowed the truck to a stop, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck as he looked over at Kate. “What happened to ‘being worth a look’?”

She smacked at his arm playfully. “It was worth a look, we got a vortex! That’s more than we’ve had out of this cell in days!”

“But a lot less than we were getting in Oklahoma last year.” He pointed out, unbuckling and making to get out of the truck.

“It’s still early in the season. I’ll find you another one.”

“Well gee, thank you, Kate. Do you think you could use your powers of prediction to find one that maxes out wider than 5 feet this time?” He shot her a playful grin, hopping out and shutting the door behind him before she could respond.

“Ugh!” She exclaimed in outrage, though a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she threw her own door open, jumping out and running around to Tyler’s side of the car.

The long grass brushed against Kate’s bare legs, and she inhaled the familiar scent of rain and metal that always accompanied a storm. If that could be bottled she’d wear it as perfume, eau de tornado.

Tyler was standing in front of the truck, eyes fixed on the clouds above them. He was perfectly still, but she could sense the anticipation and excitement in him all the same. They both knew that this cell would give them something good eventually. It was all about patience. His focus was so acute that he didn’t even turn at the sound of her running towards him. She had to yell to make him glance over his shoulder.

“Hey!” she plastered an affronted look on her face. His expression shifted from surprise, to intrigue, to amusement, and then sharply back to surprise as she threw herself at him.

They fell to the ground together, rolling a few times to absorb the impact, before coming to a stop, Kate pinning him in place, forearms either side of his head, knees either side of his legs, trying not to laugh at his wide-eyed expression.

“My ‘powers of prediction’ are more accurate than every other instrument you’ve got in the RV, thank you very much.”

Tyler stared at her in silence for a few moments, panting softly from the shock of the attack. “Well, may I present my most humble apologies-” he began, matching her seriousness, before they both burst out laughing.

Kate dropped her forehead to rest on his chest as she laughed, shifting her weight onto her knees so as not to further wind Tyler. The feeling of him shaking with laughter underneath her sparked a warm glow in her chest, and she raised her head again to take in his expression.

He had his head tipped back, laughing unapologetically up at the sky, eyes crinkled shut. Kate leaned forward again, until their chests were pressed together and her face was right in front of his. She could feel the warm breath of his mirth on her cheeks.

Tyler’s eyes slowly opened, and he raised an eyebrow at how close she was. “Why hello there.”

“Hi.” She responded cutely, leaning in until there was only an inch between them. Tyler took the hint and closed the gap, meeting her lips with his. Kate smiled into his mouth, happier than ever that she’d decided to embark on this fruitless chase with him. She felt his hand come up to cup her face, as the other one rested on her side, effortlessly taking a little of her weight for her, to ease the burden on her arms.

It was pretty much Kate’s idea of the perfect setting. Just them, in the middle of nowhere, fresh off a tornado chase, with only the wind rustling through the overgrown vegetation to disturb them. The perfect moment came to an abrupt end when Tyler’s hand suddenly dropped from her face, his soft touch at her side turning to an insistent pressure as he gently tried to push her off him.

She sat back on her knees, instinctively glancing up at the sky, as if a vortex might have descended when they weren’t looking. “What is it?”

“hEHTShh!” The sound snapped her attention back to him, although his head was sharply twisted to the side, the back of his hand pressed against his lower face. Kate watched as his chest expanded again, what little she could see of his face going taut, before his abs tensed abruptly, “hehTSHew!”, his whole body jolted, Kate instinctively reaching down to rest a hand on his chest, as if to steady him.

“Bless you!”

“Th-hh-EHtsh! Wow. Excuse me.” He offered her a playful smile, “Thank you ma’am.”

She laughed, leaning in to kiss him again, hearing him sniffle softly as he switched back to breathing through his nose. It was only a few moments before he was pushing her back again, using both hands to shield his face from her as he sneezed openly to one side.

“hhEITSHh! hEHSHhoo!”

“Oh! Ble-”

“-SHhu!” He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, sorry.”

“Bless you.”

“Thank you.” The playfulness was gone. His gaze roved over her, the sky, their surroundings, and he seemed slightly agitated, immediately pushing himself up into a sitting position. Kate climbed off him and watched as he stood and brushed himself off, giving himself a small shake before walking back the few paces to the truck, and leaning on it as he seemed to lose himself to his mind, staring at the sky.

She wanted to ask if he was okay. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him sneeze before, and she definitely couldn’t remember him so abruptly ending a kiss before. Puzzled, she too found her gaze drifting above the horizon, as though she could read his thoughts in the swirling clouds above.

Kate was halfway through a calculation about moisture levels and the direction of the wind when Tyler interrupted the silence once more.

“hEHTtCHHh!”

She jumped, before glancing over at him. He had one hand raised in a fist to his nose, and the other on the hood of the truck, keeping his bearings apparently.

“God bless!” She called.

He straightened up, wrinkling his nose, gaze distant.

“-htTShh! Damn!”

Kate raised her eyebrows. It seemed like a big reaction to a rather small sneeze, but it had also been eight sneezes in as many minutes, so maybe that was what was bothering him?

He noticed her staring. “You never seen someone sneeze before?” He joked, nudging at his nose warily with a single knuckle.

Kate stood up, brushing off her hands. “Someone, sure, but not you I don’t think. Is everything alright?”

“Never better.” He paused for a moment as if reconsidering his statement, and then doubled down. “Chasing storms with an expert tornado tamer? No place I’d rather be.” He winked as he opened the driver’s side door.

“Wow, so now I’m an expert, huh?” Kate laughed as she headed back around to get in the car, but there was still a seed of doubt in her mind about the situation. She had a feeling that something was up with him. So of course she was going to chase it.

…

“T, you there?” They were back on the road, heading towards their base for the day, outside a motel on the edge of town, and Boone’s voice came crackling over the radio.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Tyler took the handset and answered, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Just checking y’all didn’t get swept away by the storm.” He answered conversationally, “How was it?”

“Nothing to write home about.” Tyler sighed. “It barely touched d-down- hEHTSHhOo!” He sneezed suddenly into the back of the hand he was gripping the handset with, startling Kate again.

“Woah, y’alright T?” Boone came back immediately.

Tyler realised he hadn’t let go of the button until the tail end of the sneeze, and dropped the radio like it had burned him. He raised his now free hand to his face in a fist again, ducking away from Kate, “heHTSHhh! hEHTSHHew!”

“Tyler? Are you okay?” Another voice over the radio, Kate was pretty sure it was Dexter, but she didn’t have time to respond. She reached out and gripped his shoulder tightly.

“Do you need to pull over?”

“EHSHhoo!” He shook his head, unable to respond verbally.

“Are you sure? Because you’re not really-” she paused as he sneezed forcefully into his fist again, “-looking at the road.”

“hEHTSHHh! -SHoo! Goddamn.” He twisted back to face forward again, pinching his nose to keep it in check, eyes scanning the road for dangers he might have missed while he was temporarily incapacitated.

“Bless you.” Her hand was still on his shoulder, all her focus on the man in the driver’s seat who now wouldn’t take his eyes off the road. “Tyler.”

There was a silent battle of wills for a moment, Tyler putting his hand back on the wheel and drumming his fingers softly, as if to break the silence, although the radio handset was still going wild with overlapping concerned interjections from the rest of the Wranglers in the background. They could wait. Kate thought, decisively, concern for Tyler overwhelming everything else.

“It’s just…allergies.” He glanced over at her at last, and it took all her willpower not to give any strong reaction to the watery, irritated gaze he fixed her with.

“To what?” She pushed. Was he lying? Was he sick? What was making him so cagey

He sighed, though the sound had a slight catch to it, congestion showing through. “Grass.”

“Grass? I’ve never seen you have a reaction to it before, and it’s pretty nearly all there is out here, most of the time.”

“Well, you’ve never seen me roll around like a dog in it before either, have you?” He pointed out without looking at her, tilting his head away slightly further to sniff back the building congestion.

“Oh, shit,” She blanched, realising her role in his discomfort, “Tyler, I’m so sorry! I wouldn’t have tackled you if I knew-”

“I know.” He took a hand off the wheel and went to pat her leg in reassurance before hesitating, as he realised what he’d been using that hand for in the past several minutes, settling for making an awkward illustrative gesture instead. “I know that, Kate.”

“You’re doing to be alright, right?” She asked, after a moment, unsure exactly how serious this unknown allergy was. If he’d never mentioned it, it couldn’t be too serious. Unless he’d never mentioned it because it was scarily serious.

“Of course I am. I’ve ridden bulls, and storms, and shotgun with Boone driving- which is the scariest of the three- I’m not going to let a plant take me down.” Tyler’s light-heartedness had returned, the burden of secretiveness off his chest.

‘What about a whole field of them?’ She didn’t say. “Well you should probably tell the others that before they send out a search party, or an ambulance.” Kate motioned at where the radio handset was still dangling, unattended, the tinny voices of the rest of their crew audibly competing for their notice.

“Right.” Tyler grabbed it, interrupting the frantic stream of questions on the other end with a quick press of his thumb on the button. “I’m all good, we’re all good out here. Sorry. On our way back.” And then he turned the radio all the way off.

…

The drive back had been punctuated with aggressive sniffing and small coughs, as Tyler tried to ignore his immune system going into high drive. Kate had looked across at him sympathetically a couple of times, only to be met by a muttered “excuse me.” and the driver glancing away from her to hide his face.

As they pulled into the lot outside the motel, they could see the rest of the Wranglers slouching around outside the RV. At the sight of Tyler's truck, they all straightened, moving en masse towards the car as it parked.

Tyler wordlessly reached out and squeezed Kate's shoulder as he jumped out, turning his back to the approaching group as he sucked in a sharp breath. The shutting door cut out any further sound but Kate had seen the way his face had crinkled up just before the door had shut, and knew what was happening.

By the time she'd gotten out and jogged around the front of the car, he was a few steps further towards the edge of the parking lot, back turned to her. She hesitated, wondering if he wanted to be alone.

A few seconds later, though, she realised how he'd ended up over there as he raised an arm and jolted forward against the back of his wrist, stumbling forward a few steps from the force.

Kate wasted no time in running to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Where do you think you're going?” She chided him like he was an old man who was trying to wander off.

He blinked open watering eyes as he straightened up, taking in his surroundings and chuckling, though it was half-hearted, and his breath was hijacked halfway through by another gasp.

Kate squared her feet, placing her other hand on his back, and doing her best to brace him in place this time. She was strong, years of carrying unwieldy meteorological equipment, holding herself in place against high windspeeds, and working out her trauma at the closest gym had built her up some reasonable arm muscles. But were they going to be enough to keep Tyler upright?

“hhEHTSH-SHh-h!” She could hear the remnants of his laugh in the rhythm of the sneeze, and her eyes felt drawn to his ab muscles, crunching visibly under his shirt, though he managed to stay upright and rooted to the spot with Kate's help this time. She’d never noticed how many muscles went into a sneeze before, but now she was getting a visual demonstration.

“Bless you.” Kate took in the barely visible blush around his eyes and nose, that she could only see now he was actually letting her look. She watched his face flicker between distant focus and frustration, before he tilted his head back and squinted at the sky again. She was about to let go, and ask if he was okay, when the sun peeked out from behind a storm cloud, and Tyler raised his arm back up to his face at the speed of light.

“hEIHTSHhOo! -TSh! Excuse me.” He sniffed a couple of times and Kate winced sympathetically.

“God bless.” Boone had reached them first and was standing behind him, eyes fixed on the back of his head.

Tyler spun around, taking in his small audience. “Thanks, man.”

“You doing ok Tyler?” Dexter asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“I'm alright.” Tyler waved them off. “It's just a little sneezing. No big deal.”

The others looked slightly dubious, so Kate stepped in to back him up.

“Why don't we regroup, and make sure we know where this cell is heading. Wouldn't want to miss it when she finally gives us something, right guys?”

There were some general noises of agreement as they started to walk back to the RV, and, once there, pulled out the various weather tracking technologies that were needed.

Boone was still watching Tyler closely, and the second the taller man raised the back of his hand to rub at his nose, he spoke up.

“T.”

“Quit it, Boone.”

“But-”

“It's all fine, man. Seriously.”

The shorter man frowned, but didn’t push the subject.

…

It was under five minutes before Tyler’s body betrayed him again, although this time he seemed to go for the ‘address it upfront’ approach.

“Hold on one se-ehh-econd, Kate.” He held up a finger to halt her, eyelashes fluttering as he took a half step away from the group and raised his forearm to his face, “hHEH-xcuse me- EHSHhoo!”

“Bless you!” Kate said, surprised that, after their concern earlier, none of the others echoed her sentiment.

“hHEHTSHh!”

Oh.

“Bl-”

“hEHTSHHhew! -tTshh!”

“God bless you, brother,” Boone grinned at Kate as he clapped Tyler on the back, “You gotta wait for the little one on the end.” He advised her, amused. Apparently with Javi away, she was the person on the team who knew Tyler the least. Surprising considering how long they’d spent ‘getting to know each other’ at night over this past year.

Tyler straightened, embarrassment evident in the way he avoided eye contact with anything that even resembled a person as he spun back to the group, looking nonchalantly at the ground a ways in front of him as though it had just told him an interesting tornado fact. “Excuse me.”

“If you want to be excused, give us a better excuse.” Lily said bluntly, making some very one sided eye contact.

“Yeah, what's going on with you, man? You're never this closed off.” Dani added, all the Wranglers now focused on Tyler.

“We lost the tornado… in a field of rye grass.” Tyler confessed hesitantly, eyes drifting skyward now in lieu of looking at the rest of his team.

Kate watched in surprise as all the other chasers winced in perfect synchronisation at his explanation, Dani and Dexter exchanging a look that she couldn’t quite discern. What did they know that she didn’t? A lot apparently.

“Got out to get a feel for the conditions and didn't realise ‘til it was too late.” Tyler continued, finishing the sentence with a shrug.

“You're this bad from standing in a field for five minutes?” Boone frowned deeper, trying to get Tyler to meet his gaze.

“Did you forget to take your meds?” Dexter asked, also appearing perplexed by the story.

“I took my meds, I don't have a death wish.” Tyler reassured them, picking up a tablet showing the projected weather patterns and staring at it intently as if to indicate they should move on.

There was an expectant silence for a moment, no one moving, all eyes on Tyler, Lily’s expression unimpressed, Boone’s straight up disbelieving. And then the subject of their attention cursed under his breath as he set the device down again, stepping away from the group and taking a breath.

“hhEHTCHhew! hehh- hUHTDSHhuh! -tTDSH!”

Kate waited for the ‘little one’ this time, frowning at how audible Tyler's frustration appeared to be in the involuntary vocalisations. There was a collective, murmured blessing, with several internal variations, before Lily cut through all the etiquette.

“So, you stood in a field of grass for a few minutes after taking your meds and that was like half an hour ago and you're still sneezing your head off?” She was clearly dubious.

“He didn’t stand in it-” Kate was confused as to why Tyler was sidestepping the truth. Didn’t they need to understand why the reaction was so bad? It seemed like important information.

“Kate.”

“What? We were- we were lying down.” She suddenly saw the awkwardness of the admission.

“TYLER OWENS. YOU HAD S-E-X IN A FIELD OF RYEGRASS?” If Boone hadn’t looked so shockingly angry, Kate would have laughed at how he’d spelled out the word.

Tyler opened his mouth to respond but Boone cut him off again.

“After you wouldn’t let me in the truck because I had one stalk behind my ear?!”

“We didn’t…do that.” Kate cut in, suddenly finding herself shying around the word too. “I tackled him and he fell.” She tried not to laugh at the memory of his shocked face replaying in her mind. Apparently she’d misread the situation because no one else seemed to be finding the idea amusing.

“Why would you tackle him into a field of ryegrass? Were you trying to kill him or something?” Boone was up in her face now.

“I-” Kate looked desperately at Tyler, who was tugging hard on Boone’s arm with one hand, the other occupied keeping pressure just under his nose, clearly fighting off more sneezes. “I didn’t know…”

“It’s a pretty common allergy, Kate.” Dani said as Tyler dragged Boone away. “Plus y’all are together like 20 hours out of the day, it’s never come up?”

Kate thought back, a memory suddenly surfacing, her and Tyler sitting at the table while her mom placed down plates of food.

“Food’s up. I keep meaning to check, you’re not allergic to anything, are you, Tyler?”

“Not this time of year, ma’am, no.” He chuckled slightly at his own joke.

“Excuse my curiosity, but whatever do you mean by that?” Cathy tapped the table in front of Kate pointedly as she set down her daughter’s plate, trying to get her to look up from the screen she was absorbed in.

“Only thing that gets to me is ryegrass in the summer.” Kate heard him pick up his cutlery. “This looks delicious.”

“Well thank you, Tyler. I’m glad somebody appreciates it. Kate, please, no radar at the table.”

“Sorry, mom.” She finally looked up. “What are we talking about?”

“We’re not talking, we’re eating. Before it gets cold, mind.”

“Uh, no, never.” She lied, heart racing as she wondered how she could have missed something so important. Several paces away she could see Tyler chiding Boone for his attitude, while swiping at his nose at irregular intervals. He looked so uncomfortable, and it was entirely her fault.

Apparently the guilt showed on her face (most things seemed to, her mother used to say she was ‘eternally condemned to lose at poker’), because Dani’s demeanour changed.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s not like he’s going anapha-whatever.”

“Anaphylactic.” Dexter corrected.

“Yeah, he’s-”

“hehEHTSHhew! hEHSHHhOO! -TSHh!” They all turned to see Tyler steadying himself on Boone’s shoulder as the other man held him up.

“-fine.” Dani finished, cringing as Tyler further proved her wrong by dissolving into a violent coughing fit, Boone slapping him on the back like he was trying to spur on a wild horse.

“Alright.” Lily raised her hands, taking charge of the situation. “That’s enough. Everyone back to wherever the hell you’re staying, today is a write-off.”

“What? But what if we miss the first good storm?” Boone frowned, dragging Tyler back over to the group with him.

“Windspeed’s dropped way down.” Dexter interjected helpfully, holding up a tablet to show the weather data he’d been examining throughout the melodramatics of the rest of the group. “This cell isn’t going to go too far without us, and she’s probably not going to give us anything good right now either.”

“You hear that?” Lily was still half-yelling, despite them being back in one group. “We’re not missing out on anything, and I, for one, am going to order takeout and watch some crappy TV.”

“I second that.” Dani said immediately.

“What kind of takeout?” Boone double checked Tyler was okay standing on his own, before darting after the girls into the RV to retrieve the various menus they’d picked up on their way through town the day before.

“You should shower and take some Benadryl.” Dexter said, glancing over Tyler’s face. “They’ll probably still be arguing about what to order by the time you’ve finished, if you two want anything.”

“Thanks, Dex.” Tyler swallowed against the strain in his voice, nudging Kate with his elbow to prompt her to walk with him, and heading back to their room.

…

The second the door shut behind them, he turned to her.

“Are you alright?”

“Am I alright? You look like-”

“I look like someone who stood there and watched you get yelled at by my whole team. Our whole team.” He frowned. “Wait, what were you going to say I look like?”

Kate breathed an awkward laugh, “Nothing. I’m fine. I shouldn’t have tackled you like that, anyway. I could have really hurt you.”

“What d’you think I’m made of glass? I used to ride bulls, you can’t hurt me that easily. Besides, it’s my fault for not telling you I was allergic.”

“But you did. At my mum’s place last year! And I wasn’t paying attention, or I forgot, or-”

“It doesn’t matter.” He put a hand on her shoulder to stop her from spiralling. “I’m fine.”

“But what if it had been a serious allergy, like Javi with peanuts?”

“You were going to tackle me into a field of peanuts?”

“No, shut up-” She smacked him lightly on the chest, only to be surprised as he took a sudden step backwards and a sharp breath in, as if she’d really hurt him. “Ty?”

He was fumbling for something in the back pocket of his jeans, head turned to one side, face indistinguishable with the light from the window coming in behind him. Was he-

“heIHTSHew!” He ripped his hand from his pocket, Kate catching a brief glimpse of some kind of fabric before he pressed it to his face, “hEHMPSH! hHMPHSH! hHSHHhOo! -mmphiew!”

“God bless you!” She closed the distance between them again, hesitating as to where to put her hands, wanting to provide some kind of comfort.

“Excuse me.” He turned his back to her, blowing his nose forcefully. Kate’s gaze flickered over his broad shoulders, taking in the plant debris that clung to his flannel shirt. Well that probably wasn’t helping matters.

As he turned to face her again, she bit back a smile seeing the cloth clutched in his hand.

“What?” He caught the look on her face.

She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up within her from bursting out, looking away from him as she giggled. The anxiety of the last few minutes was draining away, leaving her giddy.

“What?” He insisted.

“Tyler-” she could barely get the words out. “Tyler Owens carries a-” she gestured at his hand.

He glanced down at the fabric, hiding his self-consciousness with a puzzled look.

“I just never pictured-” Kate was still in fits of laughter, stumbling around the small room as she fought to regain control.

“What did you picture me using then?” He rolled his eyes, and tucked the cloth back into his back pocket.

She snorted. “A t-shirt with your face on it.”

“Of course. I walked right into that one, didn’t I?” He ran a hand over his face.

“Yeah you did, grandpa.” She grinned at him, before noticing his now empty hands. “No, wait, what did you do with it?” She walked back over to him, eyes determinedly scouring his frame for a telltale bulging pocket.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Tyler automatically raised his hands, as she patted him down. “I’m innocent, officer.”

“Aha!” She reached into his back pocket, before he quickly reached down and pushed her hand away with his forearm.

“You don’t wanna be touching that.” He made a face.

Kate pouted. “No, don’t be embarrassed about your handkerchief.”

Tyler raised his eyebrows. “Okay, first of all-” he paused to press a knuckle to the side of his nose, sniffing away the start of another tickle. “-it’s not a handkerchief, it’s a bandana. Secondly, it comes in handy more than you’d think; motor oil, mud-”

“Mucus.” She giggled.

“Sure. And thirdly, would you really rather I let this-” he gestured broadly at his face, “-go unchecked?” He made an ‘explode’ motion with one hand, glancing around the room, surveying the imaginary damage.

Kate tipped her head to the side, as though thinking, “No probably not.” She answered faux seriously, before grabbing him by the forearm. “C’mon cowboy, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Tyler laughed at her assertiveness, but let himself be pulled in the direction of the bathroom. “Yes, ma’am. Lead the way.”

…

Kate splayed her fingers under the steady stream of the shower water, watching the droplets cascade off in different directions. The water inched towards an acceptable temperature. It may be hot outside, but that didn’t make a freezing cold shower any more desirable to her.

“Alright, we’re there. You can hop on in.” She turned to see Tyler with his head tipped back, unapologetically naked, leaning on the counter as he squinted at the light. “Uhh, you alright?”

“Gotta s-huh-sneeze.” He panted, nostrils flaring.

“You don’t say.” She smiled affectionately, less worried about his immune system trying to kill him now that he was stripped of the allergen covered clothing. Oh shoot, they’d need to find a laundromat for the clothes, god knows their shitty motel didn’t have one. And the car-

“hEHTSHhh!-” He interrupted her mental catalogue of things to clean with his own attempt to clean out his nasal passages, ducking into cupped hands in the absence of any clothing to help him cover.

“Bl-” Kate bit her tongue, remembering Boone’s words.

“hhEHh-” But it seemed that her hesitation was for nothing, as he seemed to go right back to teetering on the edge again. Poor thing.

“Stuck?” She stepped closer, watching him unconsciously run his tongue over his parted lips as he focused on the sensation.

“Yeah.” He breathed, not wanting to further lose the itch by speaking aloud.

They stood like that for a moment, both patiently waiting for the itch in Tyler’s nose to blossom into a full sneeze, his shallow expectant breaths drowned out by the white noise of the shower and the permanently-full-blast air-conditioning. Goosebumps prickled across both their skin, not that Tyler was in a great position to notice.

Kate, though sympathetic, was not blessed with infinite patience. It was that or the weather prediction thing, apparently, and she was glad she’d ended up with the latter. She sighed. “Owens, I’m getting cold. Didn’t anyone teach you never to leave a lady waiting?”

“S-hh-sorry.” His eyelashes fluttered open to look at her, and she was hit squarely in the chest with another wave of guilt at his ongoing discomfort. Which was still 100% her fault. Or at least 99%.

“It’s really teasing you, huh?”

“I f-fe-ihh-eel it, ihh-t's right there.” He responded distantly, frustration evident in the deep crease between his brows.

“Well you know what you say.” She poked his septum, right between his flaring nostrils, “If you feel it…”

“hhEISHhew! hETSHHhh! hehh- hETSCHhOO! -hHTCH-ase it.” He straightened up with a playful grin that contrasted the violent way Kate had just watched his body tense and contract, and the slightly bloodshot watery eyes he looked into hers with. Somehow, despite his suffering, he was still clearly the same roguishly handsome guy who’d gotten on her nerves more than anyone else in Oklahoma last summer.

“God bless you.” She kissed him softly on the lips, once again hearing him sniffle as she inadvertently forced him to breathe through his nose. Ryegrass. She’d definitely need to make a mental note of that one, because she was not putting him through this again if she could possibly help it.

The Daggers had just returned from a bit of time off, and were in varying stages of excitement to be back on duty. Phoenix, for her part, was raring to be back in the air. And her energy was contagious, Bob found himself smiling excitedly as he matched her fast pace across the tarmac.

“Phoenix!” They both looked over to see Rooster raising a hand in greeting from where he was already checking over his plane.

“Hey!” She waved back, and then turned to Bob, “I’ll be back, haven’t seen him since he got in.”

“Okay,” Bob smiled, continuing on his way to their plane. When he got there he started checking over the landing gear and weapons systems, before glancing back over his shoulder at where his pilot and Rooster were catching up. The older aviator said something to her, and she laughed and raised her wrist towards his face. He took her hand and leaned in, almost like he was going to kiss it. Bob looked away quickly. None of his business.

“Everything looking good?” Phoenix asked as she joined him at the side of the plane.

“Yup.” he said, patting the side of the aircraft like it was a prized piece of livestock.

“Great. Let’s go then.” She climbed up, and into the cockpit, Bob following closely behind.

As he closed the canopy, the typical airfield smells of engine oil, exhaust, and hot tarmac faded and were replaced by a sweeter, woodier one that he didn’t recognise. He buckled in, enjoying the scent while performing his pre-flight checks on the equipment.

“Good to go?” Phoenix called back.

“Good to go.” he confirmed, brushing a knuckle under his nose before clipping his oxygen mask on.

…

“Okay, Daggers, we’re going to do some simple dogfighting practice today. Something to get you back in the saddle after your time off.” Maverick’s voice came over the radio.

“Bold to think I could ever fall out of any saddle, sir.” Hangman quipped back.

“You get rusty faster than you think, Lieutenant.” Maverick responded evenly, “This exercise is ‘kill’ or be ‘killed’; it’s Coyote and I against you. As you’re the first pair up, try to set a good example by sticking by your wingman.”

“Wingwoman.” Hangman corrected, pedantically. Bob watched Phoenix flip her middle finger in the direction of their wingman’s plane, and did the same, smiling under his mask.

Maverick set the hard deck, and the other drill parameters, and then the exercise began.

…

“Coyote coming in at 15 miles, left, 8 o' clock.” Bob craned over his shoulder at the approaching jet.

“Hey, Bagman, you wanna wake up and do something?” Phoenix frowned, taking off her mask to talk to Bob off-radio, “Where is he?”

Bob checked their six, then the radar, then unclipped his mask to report back. “He’s right behind us, level low. I think Maverick is down there too.”

“He needs to get up here and help.”

“Coyote at 10 miles, left, 7 o clock.”

“I’m going to descend a bit, get us back into Hangman’s eyeline, maybe he’ll get a shot in on Coyote.”

“Copy.” Bob checked on Hangman’s jet, following steadily on their six, a few hundred feet below.

“Where ya going Phoenix?” Coyote teased over the radio.

“Just bringing things down a bit.” She responded, changing course slightly to skirt the mountains, “Why, having trouble keeping up?”

“Shit.” Hangman interrupted, “Bob, do you have Maverick on radar? I’ve lost visual.”

Bob glanced down, seeing only three jets. “Uhh no, that’s a negative.” he said into the mask he was still holding in one hand, seeing no reason to put it back on as they were still descending.

“Damnit.” their wingman responded.

Bob pinched his suddenly itchy nose between his fingers and rubbed it absent-mindedly as he scoured his field of view for any possible place that the captain could be hiding.

“What?!” Coyote’s pissed off voice rang out over the radio, accompanied by Hangman laughing. “The hell was that?”

“That was some pretty damn impressive flying, if I do say so myself.” Hangman responded. “You see that, Phoenix?”

“Nope, but I’ll take it. Thanks for getting him off our tail.”

“You out, Coyote?” Maverick asked.

“Yes, sir.” the other solo pilot responded dejectedly.

“Alright, head back then.”

“Come join us on the ground, Coyote.” Rooster radioed in from where the other members of the team were observing the exercise, “You can almost see all of Hangman’s ego from here.”

Bob sniffled, watching as Coyote’s jet turned around in the direction of the landing strip. He crinkled up his face, frustrated by this itch he couldn’t seem to shake, and glanced down at the radar. Before he could process the screen at all, the itch matured into an impending sneeze. He pinched his nose again and ducked slightly, “hhahnGt-nGK-GGT-hhNGKK!”

“You say something?” Natasha’s head was turned partially to one side, mask off, clearly talking to him. Bob sat up, brushing his hand under his nose and pushing it up slightly.

“Uh, no.”

“Sorry, I can’t hear anything other than Bagman’s shitty fake laugh.” She said into the radio pointedly.

“Well I didn’t say anything so-” Bob mumbled, once again drowned out by Hangman.

…

“I’ve got Maverick on radar, coming up behind, level… low.” Bob spun around to try and get a visual.

“Let’s take this fight up a notch.” Hangman said, starting a steep climb away from the pursuing jet.

“That’s not your call.” Phoenix responded frustratedly, also being forced to climb in order to stay with her cover.

Bob slipped his mask back on and kept his eyes fixed on their tail. Instead of seeing Jake fall back into position behind them, he saw Maverick’s plane fast approaching, close to being directly on their six.

“He’s closing the gap!” Bob reported, urgently.

“Damnit, Hangman, let me take the lead.” Phoenix was battling him for the heading, neither of them wanting to even out trajectory first, as the other would overtake.

A sharp but brief beep sounded through the cockpit. “He’s gonna get a lock, break left!” Bob yelled.

Phoenix pulled the plane sharply to the left, stopping them from climbing and pulling away from Mav’s sights. Bob watched in disbelief as Hangman broke off to the right, flying a wide arc in the opposite direction.

“He said left, Bagman, where are you going?”

“I’m going to try and get around behind him.” Jake responded coolly. Unfortunately for him, Mav had figured that he would do that, and had changed his focus to chasing after Hangman, leaving the two-man plane to escape.

“He’s such an idiot.” Phoenix muttered, glancing out the side of the plane at the two other jets. “Do we have an in to get at Maverick while he’s distracted?”

“Uhh.” Bob unclipped his mask, looking between the radar, and the other planes out of the window. “Looks like they’re going to descend, so yeah, Maverick might not have eyes on his si-ihh hihhnGT-NGK-iHTCh-TChiew!” He pinched his nose, but still ended up breathlessly letting the last two sneezes out, the altitude pressing in on him.

“Bless you.” Phoenix said, not having registered the stifles as sneezes and still too focused on realigning their path with the other planes to wonder what was setting her back-seater off.

“Thank you. Sorry, um, he might not have eyes on his six.” Bob scrubbed at his nose and blinked quickly, trying to calm his watering eyes.

“Okay, let’s give it a try.” Phoenix replaced her mask, and Bob did the same, as they prepared to try and sneak up in Maverick’s blind spot.

“Can’t run forever, Lieutenant.” Maverick teased over the radio, “You’re nearing the hard deck.”

“Who says I’m running? Maybe I’m just taking you for a walk.” Hangman was joking, but the tension in his voice made it clear that he was pushing his jet to the limit in order to escape.

Unfortunately, his jest prompted Maverick to check his surroundings, and, seeing Phoenix approaching behind him, he veered off to the right, leaving Hangman still descending.

“You can pull up, dummy, he’s moved off.” Phoenix rolled her eyes, changing course in sync with the captain.

“Oh, thank God.” Jake sighed, also turning and picking up altitude again.

“He’s not going to just let us level out on his tail.” Phoenix commented to Bob, taking her mask off and flipping her visor up, like that would help her to focus.

Bob mirrored her, about to voice his agreement when his respiratory system protested. The first breath he took outside of the mask reignited the itch in his nose and throat like it had never left and he was forced to cough a few times into his fist to stave off the tickle. “Yeah, I-” he tried again, but once again interrupted himself, “hhhISH-ITSH-ISHH-ahSHHoo!” He sneezed into his fist in rapid succession, his glasses sliding down his nose without the visor to keep them in place.

“Bless you, like four times?” Although she'd dismissed the first few sneezes, her mind was now intensely focused on the welfare of her partner.

“Thanks. Sorry, it’s never just one.” He smiled sheepishly, although Phoenix couldn’t see him, pushing his glasses back up and flipping down his visor to secure them.

Before she could respond to that revelation, Mav’s plane abruptly shot upwards ahead of them.

“Shit, I knew he was going to do that.” Phoenix pulled off to the right, before they’d accidentally overtaken him and given him a chance to get in behind them.

Bob spun around to keep his eyes on Maverick, bracing on the sides of the canopy to stay steady... and having no hands left to re-buckle his mask. He'd be fine, as long as they didn't climb too far too fast, and as long as his nose didn't pitch another hissy fit.

“Where is he, Bob?” Phoenix called back to him.

“He’s turning to match our path, left side, 7 o clock, level high.”

“And where’s Hangman?”

Bob turned to look out the other side, “Ri-ihh-ight side, 4 o clock, level high.”

“Ok, he’s fine, stay focused on the captain.”

Bob turned back, taking the opportunity as he turned to rub his nose against his shoulder. “He’s closing in, ahh-almost on our six, still above.”

He was finding it increasingly harder to accurately do his job as his eyes blurred with itchy tears and his breath kept hitching involuntarily in the middle of him reporting their position to Phoenix. He just had to push through whatever this was. Hangman would not let them live it down if they got 'killed' by the sniffles.

“Okay, I’m going to try and get him into Jake’s sights. Hang on.” She took a sharp left, and Bob watched as Mav did the same, his path aligning with Jake’s diagonal approach for a split second. As they’d hoped, Maverick quickly moved off again, diving quickly off to the right, and out of sight of all of them.

“Woo! That was close.” Jake whooped over the radio.

“But no cigar.” Maverick finished the phrase for him, clearly unbothered by the close call.

Bob looked down, trying to stay focused on the positions on the radar, but simultaneously cupping a hand over the bottom half of his face in resignation of the inevitable.

“hhahMPPH-”

“Salud.”

“-hhMPPH-”

“Dinero.”

“-hhiTSCH-”

“Amor.”

“-hhihaHTSHHhoo!”

“Jesus.”

“Pardon me. Sorry. Thank you.”

“What’s going on with you? I know you said you always sneeze that many times in a row but I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sneeze before today.”

“I’m not too sure. I’m just…” Bob pinched the bridge of his nose, struggling for a descriptor, “Itchy.”

“Are you sick?” she asked.

“Does anyone have eyes on Maverick?” Hangman cut in with a more pressing question.

Bob squinted at the radar and held his mask up to his face. “He’s moving back towards us, right side, our one o clock.”

“I don’t see anything, how far out?”

“Maybe ten miles.”

“Ten miles? I don’t see him.”

“I’m assuming he’s be-ehh-below us.”

“You’re assuming? Isn’t keeping tabs on the bogeys your entire job?”

“Don’t talk to him like that.” Phoenix interjected, mask back on so she could keep her hands on the controls and yell at Jake at the same time.

“Five miles guys.”

“Hey, he’s your back-seater, you keep him in line.”

Maverick’s plane suddenly popped up in front of them, almost directly on the nose of Phoenix’s plane.

“Shit!” she and Jake yelled in unison, both breaking away in different directions at the same time.

“Where’s he at, Bob? Talk to me.”

“Left side, eight o clock, level.”

She started to dive, turning her radio off to yell back to Bob. “Who’s he following?”

Bob turned his radio off too, so he could cough against his shoulder. “Uhh, us.”

“Okay, hopefully Hangman will get in behind him and turn the heat up.”

Bob didn’t have time to tell her that he couldn’t actually see Jake’s plane anywhere anymore, because the tingling feeling that was slowly taking over every part of his face had reached the sensitive bit of his nose.

“hhNGt-nGT-Ngt-NGKK!” He pinched his nose tightly, stealing glances at the pursuing plane in between sneezes, and losing his balance a bit from only having one hand to stabilise with. Phoenix, hyper focused on keeping their descent just a few degrees sharper than that of the plane behind them, couldn’t hear him over the engine and her own heartbeat in her ears.

“Where’s he at?”

“Closing in.” Bob wasn’t sure how clear he was sounding to her, yelling through the cockpit with congestion blurring his words, “Left side, seven o clock.”

“Phoenix, where the hell are you?” Hangman asked over the radio.

“Right back at you. Some wingman you are.” she shot back.

Bob watched Mav creep closer and closer to being on their six as Phoenix watched the altimeter creep closer and closer to the hard deck cut off. He knew he needed to tell her to break right, to stop the other plane finding a lock, but the rapid descent was making his congestion shift uncomfortably, and the WSO suddenly found himself stifling an aggressive fit of sneezes into the palm of his hand.

He tried to stay upright, focused, keep his eyes on their six, but the pressure and the rapid breathing were making him so dizzy. Bob ducked down, putting his head to his knees in defeat and continuing to try his best to stifle the seemingly endless sneezes into one hand, bracing himself with the other.

Moments later, the familiar continuous beep of Maverick’s plane locking onto their one, rang through the cockpit.

“Damnit.” Phoenix pulled out of the dive. “Where were you, Bagman?”

“Are you dead?” He sounded amused.

“Thanks to you.”

Now that the exercise was over, and his pilot was no longer focusing on an extremely fast and slightly dangerous descent, Bob felt like he should just give in to his nose. “-hhISH-ahSHHuh-ITSCHH-ahTSCHhoo-ISHH-”

Each sneeze led irrepressibly into the next, with barely any time to gasp in air in between. Letting them out didn’t seem to help much, as the itch still felt paralyzingly overwhelming, but at least he was less dizzy this way.

Phoenix startled slightly at the sudden outburst of sneezes behind her. She unclipped her mask quickly to check on Bob, but forgot to turn off the radio in her haste, “Are you okay?”

“I’m better than okay, Phoenix, I’m-”

“Not you, idiot. Shut up.” She turned as far as she could, trying to get Bob in her peripheral.

“Is who okay, Phoenix?” Maverick asked, concern playing on the edges of his voice.

Phoenix ignored him, waiting for an answer from Bob.

“Guys? Is everything alright?” Rooster checked in from the ground.

“’M oka-hh-ay ahSHhCHshOO!” Bob coughed as the last sneeze pulled the remaining air from his lungs, and held his oxygen mask haphazardly back to his face as he sucked in a desperate breath. “Sorry. I’m okay, Phoenix.” he said over the radio, not wanting to take his mask back off to call through the cockpit.

“What’s going on, you two?” Maverick’s plane pulled into view alongside them and Bob could feel their captain’s eyes raking over the cockpit, looking for the problem.

Phoenix swivelled in a way she probably wasn’t supposed to when piloting at this altitude, to half look at her partner. “What is going on? You didn’t answer me earlier. Are you sick?”

Bob sighed, taking one last breath of the nice clean oxygen before pulling his mask away again to reply, “No, I think I’m having an allergic reaction to something.” He replaced the mask.

“To what?” Phoenix looked across at Maverick and raised a hand in casual greeting to buy them a little time with the conversation.

Deep breath, take the mask off, speak. “There’s a new smell in here, something sweet? Woody maybe?” He had to resist the impulse to take a breath in to confirm his earlier interpretation of the scent. Mask back on, then breathe.

“Oh, shit.” she smacked a hand off the front of her helmet, and then regretted it when Maverick’s voice immediately came back over the radio.

“Phoenix, if there’s a problem, I need to know about it.”

“Can I tell him?” She squinted over her shoulder at Bob, and almost jumped when he popped up in her periphery, making eye contact with her. She knew other aviators (like Rooster) who didn’t particularly like having their moments of weakness relayed to superior officers (like Maverick).

“Yeah, sure. I really am sorry it cost us the exercise though.”

“Not your fault.” She flicked her radio back on. “Bob’s having an allergic reaction.”

“What? How badly? Do you need medical?”

Bob had forgotten to lift his mask back over his face to breathe again, and didn’t particularly help his case by pitching forward with another short burst of sneezes as Maverick was speaking. “hhITSH-TSHH-ahSHHiew-hiHTSHH!” He sat up again, hand still lingering over the lower half of his face, and made eye contact with his commanding officer. The captain was hovering about twenty feet away, looking as concerned as you can look from that distance with most of your face covered by flight gear. Bob gave Mav the okay signal with his free hand.

“He’s fine, we just need to land.” Phoenix turned her radio off. “Salud.”

“Alright, you’ve got priority. Let’s bring it back to base. Bless you, kid, by the way.”

“Thank you.” Bob flushed, unnerved by the attention.

The two planes turned in sync and started back to base, Maverick taking on a little more altitude to check on Hangman simultaneously. Jake, for his part, decided to once again have a little fun at his squadmate’s expense.

“So, Bob.” They could all hear the smirk in his voice even as he started the sentence, “What are you allergic to, completing a training exercise?”

“God, shut up, man.” Rooster’s frustrated voice shot back before anyone else could get a word in. “They win as often as you do.”

“Which is still not often enough. We’ll need to start ramping up training to get you all back on top of your game.” Maverick chastised, which effectively silenced anyone else who was going to chip in on comms.

…

Over the short flight back to the landing strip, Phoenix and Bob had effectively established between themselves (in between Bob dissolving into apologetic sneezes each time he forgot to put his mask back on after speaking) that Phoenix had been bought a new perfume by a friend she’d seen over their break, ; that the perfume was cinnamon and vanilla scented; and that Bob was allergic to cinnamon.

Bob also privately noted that Rooster probably hadn’t been kissing Phoenix’s hand earlier, but appraising the new scent, which honestly made a lot more sense.

“Roger, Phoenix has the ball.” the pilot’s announcement brought Bob out of his head and back to the present as the plane touched down. He could see the rest of the squadron (apart from Maverick and Hangman, who were still in the air) standing together on the tarmac, watching their plane land.

Bob licked his lips anxiously under the mask, anticipating the ridicule he could be about to endure.

The plane stopped in its designated place in the flight line and Bob took a deep breath before unclipping his oxygen mask, unable to stand while wearing it. He then attempted to raise the canopy, but found it had jammed slightly.

“Oh.” his helmet smacked against the polycarbonate roof as the stuck mechanism stopped him from straightening up.

“What is it?” Phoenix unbuckled and twisted around to look at him.

Bob took a breath through his mouth. “Canopy’s jammed.”

“Oh.” She echoed, glancing back over the controls, and scanning the seal at the front of the cockpit, looking for the issue.

“hhNGT-NGT-hhNGK-ahhSHhoo!” Bob, still half-standing and awkwardly pressed against the canopy, pinched his nose with his other hand and tried to duck away from the small crowd of onlookers he could see standing below.

“Bless you.” Phoenix was fiddling with part of the seal keeping the canopy suctioned to the rest of the plane. She sounded stressed.

“Thanks. Sorry.”

She paused. “You don’t need to keep apologizing, if anything I should be apologizing.”

“For what?” he asked, good-naturedly, knuckle pressed against his nose, sitting back down and leaning forward to look over her shoulder at what she was working on.

“For not knowing if you had any allergies, for not checking if you were sensitive to the perfume before I wore it, for not realising how bad it was before the end of the exercise.” She listed immediately.

“That shouldn’t have been the end of the exercise.” he said regretfully.

“No, I should have ended it earlier, because I should have prioritised your safety.” She hit the seal with the side of her fist and it made a popping noise, prompting Bob to stand back up and successfully open the canopy.

“Phoenix, I promise you it’s not your fault.” He rubbed at his nose with the back of his hand, looking at her intently with big eyes as she stood up and turned to look back at him. “I’m fi-ihh-ine.”

Her expression was unreadable, as she took her helmet off and clipped it onto her harness, eyes never leaving his scrunched up face. She gestured to the side of the plane, “You go first.”

He nodded, taking his helmet off too, unzipping his flight suit a bit, and sniffling softly as he prepared to climb down.

The second his boots hit the floor he was surrounded.

“Bob, man, you alright?” Fanboy asked before he’d even turned around.

“I’m okay.” he turned to see four concerned faces and smiled awkwardly, trying to nudge the group out of the way of the ladder so Phoenix could descend.

Rooster put a heavy hand on his shoulder, staring at him scrutinizingly, “Are you sure, man? Phoenix sounded pretty worried up there.”

The latter jumped down beside him, fixing their squadmates with an intense look that made everyone apart from Rooster back up, to give Bob more space. “I wasn’t.” She said pointedly.

Bob was really trying not to show it, but her close proximity was starting to get to him again. He sniffled and immediately regretted it as the perfume once more graced his nostrils with the tantalizing tickly smell of cinnamon.

“E-excuse me-” Having more space to manoeuvre now that they were out of the cockpit, Bob raised the arm that wasn’t attached to the same shoulder as Rooster was, and ducked into his elbow, “hhISH-ITSH-hSHH-hahSHHoo!” He cleared his throat and kept his gaze down as he straightened back up.

“Salud.” Phoenix, voice tense, whose boots he could see inching away from him guiltily.

“God bless you.” Rooster, voice concerned, whose grip he could feel tighten as if he was worried the younger man might fall over.

“Gesundheit” Payback and Fanboy, voices synchronised.

“Bless” Coyote, voice distant.

Bob looked up to see that he was turned away slightly, watching Hangman’s plane descend. Great, just the thing this situation needed, someone to mock him.

Phoenix clapped him on the arm, getting his attention. She smiled strainedly, “Feel better soon, bud.” and moved to walk away.

He’d seen her like this before, after the crash during training, blaming herself. Wanting to relieve her guilt, Bob reached out and stopped her. “Hey, thanks for checking on me.” He impulsively pulled her into a hug, trying in the brief few seconds that she let him, to take some of the tension from her.

Bob wasn’t an idiot. He was holding his breath through the hug. But what he hadn’t considered was where hugging her would result in his face ending up- right in the crook of her neck. Right where she’d applied the perfume. His eyes started to water, even without inhaling, and he quickly let her go.

“hhHEhxcuse me-” he pulled up the collar of his flight suit, covering as much of his face as possible with it, and squeezing his eyes shut. “hhahTSHH-TSCHH-hhISHH-hahSHHoo-” Bob was being thrown forward a little more with each sneeze, “-aHSHHoo-TSHH-TSHH-TSCHH-” He was grateful when Rooster’s hand returned to his shoulder, and his other gripped tight onto Bob’s other arm, grounding him, “TSCHHuh-SHHuHhoo-” but not stopping him, “ISHH-ISCHHuh-ahTSH-aHSHH-hHSHH-hAHSCHHhOo!”

Bob could hear the same chorus of blessings as before ring out, as he tried to hide inside of his flight suit, turtle in its shell style. Only this time, he wasn’t sure he heard Phoenix, and he was, frustratingly, sure that he heard the amused sounding voice of their not-so-reliable wingman.

“Hey, breathe.” Unlike Phoenix, Rooster hadn’t moved an inch, his hands and his voice about the only thing keeping Bob’s sense of his surroundings stable.

“Phoenix said you were having an allergic reaction, right?” Fanboy asked, ignoring the fact that the other aviator couldn’t currently see him and appeared to be doing his best to go unseen by him too, “What are you allergic to?”

“Cinnamon.” Bob lifted his head, blinking at the return of the sunlight.

“Why would there be cinnamon in the sky?” Payback questioned, at the same time as Rooster muttered, “Fuck.”

They made eye contact, and Bob knew that Rooster knew, and Rooster knew that Bob knew, and they both knew that Phoenix would not want anyone else to know.

“They use cinnamon oil in cleaning products sometimes.” Rooster shrugged like the made up fact was common knowledge.

“How would you know that?” Fanboy cocked his head at the older man.

“Because I actually read the back of the bottle, dumbass.”

“Nah, it’s because he’s old.” Jake cut in, simultaneously literally cutting in, moving between Payback and Fanboy to get a closer look at Bob. “How ya doing, our Baking Opposed Backseater?”

“Baking Opposed-?”

“You use cinnamon in baking.” Jake defended himself.

“I guess- hh-so,” Bob tried not to rise to the bait and tried not to sneeze at the same time.

“Uh oh, looks like he’s gonna do it again.” Hangman took an exaggerated step backwards, forcing Payback, Fanboy, and Coyote to do the same to stop him from bumping into them. Bob flushed.

“Fuck off, Pacman.” Rooster made a ‘talking’ motion with his free hand to reiterate the insult.

Bob took advantage of the distraction to duck back into his shirt collar with fit of -this time stifled- sneezes.

…

Phoenix stood a few feet away from the rest of the group, watching Bob guiltily.

“He alright?” Maverick’s voice beside her made her startle to attention. He waved his hand to dismiss the formality, and they both looked back at the rest of the squadron.

“He’s good, sir.”

“He’s your WSO, what are you doing over here?” he asked, confused by the stark change in camaraderie between the pair in the air and now.

“Too many cooks, sir?” she shrugged.

“Nah, it’s more than that. What’s he allergic to?” Mav looked at her with intense scrutiny.

She sighed. “It’s…my perfume, sir. It’s cinnamon.” She watched him pause and take a breath, investigating the scent for himself.

“Did you know that he was allergic to cinnamon?” Maverick asked after a moment, watching Bob rub at his nose with the back of his hand, before Rooster produced a handkerchief from seemingly nowhere and then flipped off Hangman as he immediately started mocking him for having it.

“No, sir. Of course not.” Phoenix frowned.

“Then it’s not your fault. And he’s not seriously hurt, so there’s nothing to feel guilty over.”

She looked at him in surprise, wondering how he’d managed to read her so effectively.

“Believe me, Phoenix, I’ve been there. And I’ve ended up with flight partners in much worse condition than this,”

She cringed internally, knowing his history.

“As the pilot, you’re responsible for him, but you can’t expect to know how each of your actions might affect him. And you can’t obsess over it. You have to trust each other. And with time, you’ll learn how to work together, hone your partnership. But in the meantime, try not to lose sleep over a few sneezes.”

They both watched Bob pitch into Rooster’s handkerchief with yet another fit as the older man held him steady. “Or a lot of sneezes. Is he okay?”

Not two days after Seventeen had returned from a series of fan meetings and performances in Japan, Seungkwan had come down with a sinus infection that rapidly developed into pneumonia when his schedules denied proper rest. He’d ended up in the hospital after a variety show appearance, where they’d hopped him up on meds and fluids, and  luckily sent him back to the dorms the same day. But Seungkwan was still so miserable and had such a high fever it wasn’t safe to leave him alone, and the other members’ schedules didn’t allow for them to rest with him. Soonyoung had volunteered his parents’ house so his mom could be there to keep an eye on their ailing friend, after receiving the green light from his mother, of course. 

The plan seemed perfect. What could go wrong? 

Two days after they’d dropped Seungkwan off at his parents’ place, Soonyoung came for a visit, chosen by the other members since, after all, it was his parents’ house. He quietly pushed open the door to his own room, and gasped. He had expected Seungkwan to be curled up in his bed, fast asleep. But Latte, Soonyoung’s Latte, was nestled against the vocalist’s side. And the dog didn’t even raise her head in greeting when Soonyoung appeared. She simply turned her eyes to look at him, thumped her tail once, and went back to sleep.

The traitor. 

Soonyoung had taken his one day off to come and check on Seungkwan only to find that the vocalist had STOLEN the affections of his precious Latte. 

The dancer padded into the room on tiptoe, careful not to wake the sleeping boy. His attention was focused solely on the terrier, who had guiltily cracked her eyes back open at Soonyoung’s approach. “Yeah, you aren’t sneaky. I see you.” 

Latte lifted her head up, her tiny tail batting back and forth against Seungkwan’s stomach as a greeting to her brother. 

“Oh, don’t you try to make up for it now.” Soonyoung’s harsh words were instantly contradicted as he began to scratch Latte behind the ears. The dog leaned into his touch, her eyes closing in pure delight. Damn, why did she have to be so cute? 

Seungkwan shifted in his sleep, a soft humming sound escaping his throat. Soonyoung’s attention moved to the vocalist, and he reached his free hand up to brush sweaty bangs off of clammy skin. Still running hot, Soonyoung noted. But not as hot as before. And while he could still audibly hear Seungkwan’s breathing, congested and wheezy, there was less to it - less of a rattle and more of just a normal sick person breath. That was comforting. 

Latte huffed against Soonyoung’s skin, nudging the hand still lingering on her head. 

Soonyoung glared back at her. “You abandoned me, remember?”

A soft chuckle behind him caused Soonyoung to nearly jump out of his skin. He turned to find his mother watching him with tender eyes. “Mom! Don’t do that!” he whispered dramatically. 

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just not often I get to see you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Soonyoung, are you jealous of Latte right now?” 

“What?!” Soonyoung slapped a hand over his mouth, turning his eyes back to the bed to ensure his yell hadn’t woken Seungkwan. The vocalist hadn’t moved. Good. Soonyoung motioned for his mom to follow him to the hallway, and the two quickly exited the room, closing the door behind them. Soonyoung crossed his arms over his chest. “I am not jealous.”

The smirk on his mother’s face did nothing to soothe Soonyoung’s rapidly deteriorating mood. She pinched at his cheeks. “Honey, you know Latte will always love you best…”

Soonyoung swatted away his mother’s hands. “Mom!”

“…but I think it’s fair to share her when you’re friend’s in need, yeah?” 

Soonyoung rolled his eyes, suppressing a groan. “Moooooom! I am an adult. I am not jealous that my dog is cuddling my best friend.” 

His mom held up her hands as if in surrender. “I’m just calling it like I see it.” Soonyoung shook his head, grumbling to himself as he peeked back into his room. 

“They’re so cute, aren’t they?” his mother asked, her soft voice in his ear. “You know, Latte’s been protecting Seungkwan-sshi since he arrived. Won’t let him out of her sight. She even comes to get me when his fever’s spiking or she thinks he’s in trouble.”

“Of course. She’s a perfect angel,” Soonyoung muttered, voice dripping with bitterness. But even he couldn’t stop his heart from melting at the adorableness of it all. 

~

One month later, Soonyoung’s parents were going on a trip, and asked him to look after Latte, which Soonyoung happily obliged. He took up temporary residence in their house so he could be with his baby whenever he wasn’t busy with schedules. Seokmin and Seungkwan decided to join him; BSS was currently preparing for a comeback, so it made sense for them to be together. It was supposed to be a fun week and a half ‘sleep over.’ Chan had pointed out that the three of them already lived together in the dorm, so why were they making such a big deal about it now. Seungkwan quickly shut that down, accusing Chan of being jealous he wasn’t invited. 

What Soonyoung didn’t anticipate, though, was Seungkwan receiving a contract for a week-long variety show filming in Iksan and ‘abandoning’ them (Seokmin’s words that Soonyoung very quickly adopted), and Seokmin ‘contracting’ the ‘worst cold of his life’ (again, Seokmin’s words). So the week and a half long trio sleep over was now just a duo, and Soonyoung doing his best to keep Seokmin from drowning in his own self pity. At least this time, Latte had stayed stuck to Soonyoung’s side. Or at least she had, until one day when he returned from choreographing…

“Where…?” Soonyoung mused upon closing the door, when Latte hadn’t met him immediately. Turning his attention to the living room, Soonyoung felt his body physically depress from the sight that met his eyes. 

Seokmin was passed out on the couch, curled up on his side, with Latte nestled comfortably against his chest. The terrier fixed a pair of apologetic brown eyes on her brother, thumping her tail twice against Seokmin’s legs to show him that she had heard but didn’t want to leave her current post. Soonyoung clicked his tongue. 

“Latte,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Again?!” He walked over, hands on his hips, and scratched the dog’s head gently. He gave Seokmin a quick once over. “Are you protecting my sunshine for me, girl?” Latte nuzzled her head harder against Soonyoung’s hand. 

The dancer chuckled. “Thanks, baby.” Leaving the one hand on the dog’s soft head, Soonyoung reached his other hand to Seokmin’s forehead, noting the still present fever before gently shaking the vocalist awake. 

Seokmin groaned softly as his eyes peeled open. 

“Hosh?” he croaked sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. “What are you doing home?”

“What are you doing on the couch?” Soonyoung countered simply. “And what gives you the right to monopolize my dog?”

Seokmin’s eyes moved to Latte, still snuggling against him, and the dog happily turned and licked his face. “Aw, hyung, let her go. She’s a defender of the weak.” He reached forward and gathered Latte into his arms, pressing his cheek against her back. “She’s a healthcare professional.” He suddenly pulled away from Latte, burying his face in his sleeve as a harsh sneeze and fit of hacking coughs overtook him. Soonyoung frowned and Latte whimpered, nuzzling close to Seokmin’s stomach. 

“No matter how cute, I don’t think Latte can save you from that cold,” Soonyoung replied. “And if any dog was cute enough, it would be her.” Seokmin nodded in enthusiastic agreement. “Come on. Bed. And I guess Latte can come if you want.”

“Oh, you make that sound like such a favor.” Soonyoung grabbed the throw pillow from the floor and threw it at Seokmin’s head while the younger man laughed at his own jab. “Wow, Kwannie was right. You do get jealous over Latte.”

Soonyoung gasped, hand to his chest. “Not true!”

“Then why are you being a brat about her cuddling me?” Seokmin held Latte close to him again. The terrier’s tail immediately began to wag. Soonyoung’s eyebrow began to twitch. “Oooooooh, hyung, green is SO not your color…”

Lips pursed in the tightest of pouts, Soonyoung crossed his arms over his chest. “I can throw you out on the street, ya know. This is my house for all intents and purposes.”

Seokmin laughed. “I give, I give!” He cleared his throat, wincing as he sniffled. “Will you come to bed with us too?” He turned a pair of perfectly lackluster puppy eyes up at Soonyoung. Latte gave another hopeful whimper. She really was on Seokmin’s side here, wasn’t she?

Soonyoung sighed. “Fine.” 

~

Two weeks later, the night after BSS’ final comeback promotion, Soonyoung awoke in the middle of the night to the worst pain of his life. His abdomen felt like it was on fire, and nothing he did could make it better. He’d begun to panic instantly, crying out in agony before promptly vomiting on the floor. By the grace of god, Jun had still been awake and heard him yelling, racing to help his brother despite obvious confusion at what was going on (Soonyoung had been perfectly fine up until now.) He’d thrown up three more times and had nearly dehydrated himself crying from the pain when Seungcheol made the call to get him to the hospital. 

One emergency appendectomy and two days of post-op observation later, Soonyoung returned to the dorm. He was still a bit foggy from the pain meds, and apologized profusely for causing such a fuss two days prior, (all of which were ignored by his members, who couldn’t care less about a little extra clean up given the seriousness of their tiger’s illness.) And there was no world in which Soonyoung would deny how much he loved the affection he received from his members, just happy to have him safe and healthy and home. 

But absolutely nothing compared to the surprise he received later that first day home. 

His sister and parents had come to see him in the hospital. In fact, his mother had stayed with him every second she was allowed. But it was still a welcome gift to have them all visit him at home. Especially because they brought along a furry visitor who was not allowed at the hospital. 

Upon entering the dorm, Latte made a bee-line for the couch, where the members had set Hoshi up so he wouldn’t miss out on the action while recovering. The dancer opened his arms, crushing the dog against his chest as she whined in excitement, licking his face with full enthusiasm. 

Seokmin and Seungkwan loomed behind the couch, smiling adoringly. 

“The defender of the weak is back on her A game,” Seungkwan commented, scratching the terrier behind the ears as she continued to wiggle in Soonyoung’s arms. 

“And she’s allllll mine this time,” Soonyoung declared with the most satisfied grin he’d ever worn. “Don’t even think about getting a cuddle in, boys.”

No one’s POV.:

“Don’t you think you should stay home today?”, Felix hummed, voice even huskier than usual as he had just woken up. He dropped his spoon into the bowl of cereal and got up from the dining table to check on Seungmin, who had just shuffled out to the kitchen, dressed for a day of schedule. Shaking his head, the younger suppressed a sniffle and claimed: “I’m fine.” – “You probably don’t want to hear it but you don’t look fine”, Felix pointed out, taking Seungmin by surprise when he cupped his cheeks. The vocalist pulled away and shrugged: “Looks can be deceiving.” – “Yeah, but- You’re also running a fever”, the Aussie frowned, “Are you going to claim, your temperature can be deceiving?” – “Your hands were cold, so your perception was probably off”, Seungmin hummed, scanning the counter while discreetly running the cuff of his sleeve under his nose.

None of his options for breakfast looked appealing at all to Seungmin, probably because his throat ached, but he knew he’d need the energy to get through the day. Defeated, he opted for a fruit smoothie and winced at the sound of the blender. Gosh, why did his head feel like it’d split in half just because there was a normal everyday noise? “What’s first today?”, he yawned, barely able to avoid an embarrassing voice crack. Pulling out his phone, Felix scanned over their schedule and smiled: “Lucky you. Meeting in the morning, photoshoot around noon and then after lunch, we’ll have dance practice for the rest of the day.” Seungmin groaned. How was he lucky? There was no way he’d be able to focus during the meeting. He was indeed running a fever, so being cooked under the professional lighting would definitely make it worse. Not to mention dancing. That sounded like hell.

“What? The meeting is chill, you won’t have to do much but sit there. You can rest your voice during the photoshoot. Just smile and look pretty as you always do”, Felix chuckled, “You won’t be participating during dance practice anyway, so since it’s last for the day, you’ll get home early.” – “Why wouldn’t I participate?!”, Seungmin huffed, forcing down his smoothie. Giving the vocalist an incredulous look, Felix sighed: “You don’t really think that Chan will let you once he had a look at you?” The younger wanted to argue back but his nose had started to itch and he had to turn to the side, catching a throaty sneeze in the cuff of his sleeve. “Bless you, is your throat ok-“, Felix frowned but got cut off by a second, more forceful sneeze. “Ow”, Seungmin sniffled and massaged his throat. When he caught the Aussie’s look, he shot him a glare though, warning him not to mention it.

Despite not wanting to let on that he was feeling a bit under the weather, Seungmin still put on a scarf that didn’t exactly match with the rest of his outfit. At least it protected his throat and felt soft enough not to irritate his fever-sensitive skin. He had downed something for the headache after he finished his smoothie but so far, it hadn’t kicked in and he really prayed it would before the meeting. If only his nose would stop bothering him. “Did you bring tissues?”, Felix asked worriedly, watching the vocalist scrub at his face. Glaring at the Aussie with watering eyes, Seungmin groaned: “Of co-ourse. Do you- do you think I’m stu-huh hNXT-uh! H- hNXT heh- hNXT *sniff* Heh'ESHHuh!“ – “Bless!”, Felix laughed, “You should probably use one then. Stop stifling though. You’ll hurt your head.”

“You want to what?! No! Most definitely not. What were you thinking?”, Chan frowned closely scanning Seungmin. Even to Felix, who had seen the younger this morning, it was obvious that the trip to the company building had been draining already. Seeing Seungmin’s face fall, the leader added: “I really think you should’ve stayed home today. You don’t look well at all and dance practice is absolutely out of question.” – “But I’m fine, hyung”, Seungmin sighed, cursing his voice for ruining his argument by cracking. Chan shook his head: “You’re not. I can tell you’re running a fever just by looking at your eyes and you never sneeze like this unless you’re sick.” – “Like what?”, the younger pouted, scrubbing at his nose as he hoped it wouldn’t betray him. “In fits like you just did when you walked in”, Chan sighed, “Really, Seung, take it easy today.”

Seungmin didn’t intend to overdo it. He just wanted to participate like everyone else, nothing more but also nothing less. The meeting truly wasn’t so bad, if only his nose hadn’t been so incredibly itchy. It seemed Chan had a point, Seungmin found himself caught in multiple sneezing fits over the course of the meeting, which he of course stifled as to not disrupt the conversation. As Felix had predicted, by the end of the meeting, Seungmin had a splitting headache and his eyes watered from the built up congestion and pain. He couldn’t imagine the discomfort of standing under the flood lights and have his pictures taken.

Once the meeting was finally over, Seungmin reached for his water glass desperate to soothe his throat. Just when he was about to lift it to his lips, he was overcome by another sneeze. “Heh’ESH! Heh-Heh’ESHHuh! H-Heh'ESHHuh!” – “Bless you”, Jeongin laughed as he took the glass from Seungmin’s shaking hand. When the vocalist looked down, he realized what had the maknae so entertained. He had spilled most of his drink on his shirt and he couldn’t help but shudder when the moisture soaked through the fabric and touched his feverish skin. Jeongin’s smile immediately faltered when he noticed the tears of frustration springing to Seungmin’s eyes. Before he could comment on it though, Chan had already shrugged out of his hoodie and held it out to the second youngest, smiling: “Change into that, so you don’t get cold on the way home.” – “Thanks. Thought we’re having a photoshoot now”, Seungmin sniffled, rubbing his eyes. Clicking his tongue, the leader agreed: “The rest of us yeah, you’re going home though. Our stylists are great but I don’t think they’ll be able to conceal how poorly you feel. Seriously, I wouldn’t even trust you to boil tea in your current condition.”

Seungmin didn’t even have the energy to feel offended by Chan’s statement, secretly glad the eldest had made the decision for him because he could never make that decision himself without the guilt eating him up inside. “Try to get some rest and I’ll be home soon”, Felix informed. He was still banned from participating during dance practice but he had intended to at least watch. Holding back a cough, Seungmin forced out: “If you want to watch, you can do that. I can handle myself, Lix. You don’t need to leave early for me.” – “Well, it sounds to me like you need a little bit of TLC”, the Aussie chuckled, “If you need medicine or anything I should pick up on the way, text me. I really don’t mind.” – “I’ll give you your hoodie back once I washed it ‘cause it’ll probably get some snot on it”, Seungmin rasped, making Chan laugh. Petting the vocalist’s head, Chan hummed: “Don’t worry, it’s fine. Just focus on getting home and resting, so you get better soon.” The younger nodded obediently and hoisted his bag over his shoulder. He had already turned to leave when Felix called after him: “And Min, stop stifling your sneezes!”

When Seungmin got back to the dorm, he regretted not having listened to Felix earlier. The headache had gotten so much worse and if the congestion was truly to blame for that, he might actually give into the desire to take a hot bath. Sniffling thickly, he shuffled to his room and grabbed some warm pajamas before filling the tub. Maybe a few drops of eucalyptus oil would clear him up, so it was a good thing Felix always kept a small bottle in their bathroom cabinet. Wasn’t it also supposed to help with muscle aches? Hopefully. Seungmin felt painfully stiff and sore after sitting in that meeting for so long and the car ride hadn’t helped with that. Yet, he reminded himself that as much as he wanted to relax, he mustn’t fall asleep in the bath.

Falling asleep in the tub soon became impossible anyway, as Seungmin had to realize. The strong scent of the bath oil had him trapped in repeated sneezing fits that drained him of what little energy he had left but also frequently startled him awake again. The hot water must have raised his temperature because by the time he couldn’t stand the tingling in his sinuses anymore, his muscles had seemingly turned into dough. Getting out and draining the tub took unspeakable effort and Seungmin weakly sat down on the fuzzy rug, towel wrapped tightly around his shivering form. Despite having prepared his pajamas, he only managed to throw on his bath gown before laying down on the rug and closing his eyes.

Felix unlocked the door to their shared apartment as quietly as possible, so he wouldn’t wake Seungmin if he managed to take a nap. A small smile tugged at his lips when he recognized the scent wafting through the apartment. It seemed the vocalist did his best to take care of himself. What Felix hadn’t expected, was to find the other curled up on the bathroom floor, hair still damp. “Min, hey? What are you doing down here?”, the dancer hummed as he crouched next to Seungmin. Blearily blinking up at Felix, the younger breathed: “When did you get home? What time is it?” – “I just got home and it’s five pm now. You didn’t faint, did you?”, the Aussie explained, helping the other sit up. “Fuck”, Seungmin rasped, rolling his shoulders, “No, was jus’ asleep.” Sleeping on the bathroom floor for close to three hours certainly hadn’t helped his sore muscles. “Let me help you to bed?”, Felix offered, holding out his hand.

After hoisting his dizzy dongsaeng to his feet and maneuvering him onto the closed toilet lid, Felix left and turned on the kettle. When he returned, Seungmin had changed into his pajamas and tried to walk back to his room himself. Noticing the younger sway, Felix wrapped an arm around his waist and accompanied him the rest of the way. Settling the vocalist on the edge of his bed, Felix sighed: “Did you have any medicine yet?” – “No, didn’t eat either. Jus’- jus’ wanted a bath”, Seungmin sniffled, pulling the collar of his pajama shirt over the lower half of his face, “Heh'ESHHuh! Heh-hh'ESHH *ugh* h-heh- *sniff* h’Eshuh!” – “Bless you!”, the dancer hummed sympathetically, “Your tea should be ready in a moment and I’ll go grab some other supplies too, yeah? Be right back.”