Who: Frank & Alice Longbottom
What: :[
Where: Longbottom abode
When: Tonight


Dishes, dishes, dishes. There weren't enough dishes in this house. They only had eight. Eight dishes! How did they only have eight dishes? What if they had guests----they did have more dishes. After the news broke from their impromptu marriage, Frank's mother had insisted that she get them a nice set of china, and she did. Except it was all the way on the top shelf of the cabinets. Alice tried reaching for them for nearly fifteen minutes before she remembered she had a wand, but when she picked up her wand, she couldn't remember the spell.

Ohhhh, she should have gone to work, she wouldn't have forgotten it there. Alice pouted greatly, pacing back and forth in the kitchen. Frank had forced her to stay home, saying that she was too sick and that he would deal with Moody, but she couldn't stay in bed, no, no. She couldn't, she was going to be an auror, aurors don't get sick. And if they do, they deal with it! They go to work and deal with it and why weren't there anymore dishes to clean? Oh, she was getting so upset about this lack of dishes! Why didn't they have more forks! Eight forks for the normal set, and Alice bloody bet there were more up there! More forks for her to clean and ohhhhh.

She leaned forward, hands on the counter and then her forehead was on her hands, and her knees were wobbly and why weren't there any dishes for her to do?

Auror training had been bad today without Alice, he was going to lie. Not only had her lack of presence forced Frank to work with Will all day [every...moment], but it seemed like Moody was just in a bad mood in general, obviously taking out all of his issues on him, Frank. And Will, too, he supposed, but Jugson always deserved everything he got, so he really wouldn't consider that.

Of course he would never actually tell her that. Once Frank got home, he was going to tell Alice that she had missed nothing, it had been a boring day of watching a projector and everyone had been fine about her taking the day off. She didn't need any other stress right now, because he was very convinced she was sick. Or on the verge of getting sick. Either way, Frank hadn't wanted her to go in the morning, and was still in that same mind set while he was coming home.

"Home!" Frank yelled, dropping everything on the ground. Hearing that the water was running in the kitchen [he had figured she wouldn't have stayed in bed all day], he slid through the doorway. "All---ice! What're you---!" He quickly skidded to her side, waiting only for some form of a response to jump to help. Ungh, he did not like this.

"I can't reach the dishes!" she let out in a shrilly voice, nearing tears as she dropped all of her weight into Frank. Not intentionally, which she found strange, but her legs had simply given out underneath her. Alice stared up with a frantic expression toward her husband, and she meant to tell him that something was wrong, but all that came out was, "Get the dishes for me?"

Alice pouted greatly, looking from Frank and up toward the shelf of the bloody dishes. Her body was leaning heavily into his, and---Merlin's beard, she could swear she could hear her heart beating in her head. That wasn't normal. Well, sometimes you could, but Alice couldn't be sure what caused that usually, so right now it was weird. She found herself burying her head into Frank's shoulder, his neck, and even though something in her head was saying 'You've got to move if you want him to get the dishes!' she couldn't, and continued to lean harder, and harder on her husband.

"It's hot," she muttered, pressing her face into Frank's shirt.

Get the--- what? What did dishes have to do with anything that was happening this very second, because honestly, Frank saw no relation to how sickly Alice's face looked to their dishes. Unless they had suddenly come alive to attack her, which they hadn't, because they were still on the top shelf, unreachable. So no, he had no clue what she was talking about, and now, she was starting to worry him.

"I--- what?" This would probably be the one time where he didn't care how strange his voice sounded. As Alice leaned further into him, Frank planted his feet to the ground and wrapped his grip tight around Alice's waist. This was not normal at all. And, and--- holy hell, her forehead was burning up. Even with both his hands holding onto her, he could feel her skin burn against his neck. That was not good; this was not good.

"You're sick," Frank said, trying to be calm. Or at least speak to her in a somewhat gently tone. Which was hard, seeing as his heart was going a mile a minute, but.

Alice opened her mouth to respond, to say that no, she wasn't sick, she just had a little fever, but she didn't. Her mouth shut tightly as she stared at the counter---well, not really the counter, more like the salt shaker...no, no not that either. It seemed like her eyes didn't want to focus on anything at all, and Alice continued to stare in that direction, dazed and obviously very confused. That was strange. This was strange. It felt like the world was moving in slow motion, the way her mind wasn't able to catch up with her eyes, or---or was it the other way around? She couldn't tell, and now that she couldn't form the words, any words, Alice was suddenly scared.

She whimpered greatly, hands clawing at Frank's shirt to get a better grip on him. He was holding her so tightly, but she didn't feel him, but--but she could! This was so strange. So strange. Alice wanted to bury herself into Frank's arms...what a weird expression, really---she couldn't get close enough, and that was so upsetting, and she couldn't stop herself from letting out a whimper of pain (oh, yes---there was pain now, physical pain for not being able to get closer to Frank) and tears started to fall.

"Frank---" she croaked, but she was unable to lift her arms up to hold him tighter, so her weak hands gripped the bottom of his shirt.

Frank stood, unable to find anything to say. He was completely lost, with no clue whatsoever as to what was happening to his wife. Because yes, something was definitely happening, just apparently neither of them had any clue what it was. Alice looked beyond under control, hurt, confused and--- even with a bad fever, Frank was convinced enough to bring her to someone to see what was wrong. Especially with the pregnancy (he wouldn't call it 'scare', but for lack of a better word) scare earlier in the week, obviously she wasn't feeling well.

"Okay, we're---- going to Mungo's," Frank stated, though quickly came to the conclusion that that was easier said than done. Not that Alice was heavy, but she was starting to feel like a limp doll under his arms. A limp, life-size doll. He began to shift his feet to get a better grip on her, and moved slowly to not let her think that he would drop or let go. At least it gave him something else to focus on than the feeble noises she was making, because, again, that was a place he didn't want to go to.

"Okay---- okay--- ready? Real quick, I promise." It had to be nothing, all she needed was a good potion to fix her up, and she would be fine.