fic: Stranger Things 1/1 [PG] Dresden Files/Highlander
Title: Stranger Things
Author: A Lanart
Fandom: Dresden Files/Highlander
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None. Set Some time After Blood rites in the DF book verse. If you've met Thomas and Mouse, you won't be spoiled.
Characters/pairings: Thomas, Bob, Mouse, Methos/Harry
Disclaimer: Jim Butcher owns the Dresden Files, Davis/Panzer owns Highlander
There's a quote from dear old Will in there somewhere too, and he doesn't belong to me either.
A/N: This takes place the day after In the Bleak Midwinter and A Mistletoe Kiss in the ' With Friends Like These' universe. In this AU, Harry lives in his tv verse home rather than his book verse basement, just because I like it better and Bob is his indomitable tv version self.
~*~
It was late - or early, Thomas amended to himself - when he got back to Harry’s, only to find his way into the place blocked by Bob’s incorporeal presence. Out of politeness’ sake he decided not to walk straight through the ghost, and stopped, arms folded, waiting for some sort of explanation. He knew Bob wasn’t best pleased about the arrangement he had with Harry, but it was the first time the ghost had stopped him from entering. Then Thomas realised that Bob was looking almost flustered.
“I really wouldn’t come in any further if I was you.” The ghost said, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket.
“Bob, I live here. I’m recognised by the wards. What harm am I going to do?” Thomas took a step further, crossing the invisible line of the inner wards, feeling their caress over his skin as he entered. Bob took a step back, but didn’t move out of the way. Thomas frowned, there was something teasing at his senses...
“Thomas. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to be here right now.” All Thomas wanted was a shower, and to kick back for a little while. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with an obstreperous ghost and made sure the icy tone of his voice reflected that.
“Really.”
“Yes, really. I...” Whatever Bob was going to say was cut off by the sound of a soft moan from the direction of Harry’s bedroom on the mezzanine floor. Thomas’ vampire senses reeled, and he could feel his eyes blazing. He growled low in his throat as the heady scent and taste of passion slammed into him. Desperately he tried to clamp down on the almost overwhelming hunger and desire to feed on whoever was producing such a delicious banquet of emotions.
“Harry?” He asked breathlessly, fighting for control. Even so he couldn’t keep a note of incredulity out of his voice. Harry was a virtual monk; surely it couldn’t be him moaning like a wanton... Thomas shook his head angrily. He would not succumb to the demon inside himself in Harry’s home. He took a step backwards. Bob glanced at the stairs as another moan echoed round the room, and then nodded.
“Harry.” He confirmed. “Now will you get out?” Thomas fled, trying to remind himself that Harry was his *brother* and that the thoughts he was having about him had no place in modern society. There were times he really hated his vampiric nature, and this had to rate as one of them. He ran, hoping that physical exertion and distance would dampen the fire in his blood and smother his longing for forbidden things. Maybe he would find a willing body to help him satiate his hunger and maybe he would manage to get himself under control without resorting to outside help. One thing was clear, he wouldn’t be returning to Harry’s place for some time.
Later on, *much* later on, when Thomas returned, he stuck his head cautiously round the door wanting to see if Bob was still on guard duty before he attempted to enter. There was no sign of the ghost so Thomas assumed it was safe to go in. That didn’t stop him hesitating after he’d closed the door behind him, listening for anything that seemed to be out of place. The only sound he heard was the chink of crockery from the kitchen area and he headed in that direction, only to find someone who most definitely *wasn’t* Harry, and was also very male. White Court vampire or not, Thomas felt himself blushing. He’d teased Harry unmercifully about his apparent lack of sexual curiosity toward his own gender and to run into the half-naked embodiment of that curiosity in the *kitchen* of all places was something that Thomas had never expected to encounter while living with his brother. The man turned, showing off a very patrician profile and a lean but finely muscled torso. Thomas bit his lip, and the man smiled, hazel eyes gleaming.
“You must be Thomas,” he said. Thomas swallowed, and nodded.
“That’s me. Who the hell are you?”
“Adam Pierson. I’m an old friend of Harry’s.” Thomas drew a breath, fully prepared to say that *he’d* never heard of any friend of Harry’s called Adam, only to find himself interrupted before he opened his mouth. “From before your time.” Adam added, in a tone that indicated that he was amused about this rather than otherwise. Thomas let the breath go with a woosh and stepped toward Adam with his hand outstretched, only to be surprised by the other man’s sudden step backward.
“I really don’t think we need to do that,” he said, moving out of Thomas’ reach. Thomas looked at his hand, and then at the man who had been sharing his brother’s bed.
“Why?”
“Because I would burn you to a cinder in a moment, little vampire, and I don’t think Harry would be very happy if I did that.” Half naked or not, Adam Pierson, if that was indeed his name, looked dangerous and not entirely human himself. Thomas let a trickle of his awareness out, tasting the aura of the man and shuddered at the electricity-like tingle it produced.
“Never mind who are you; *what* are you?” Thomas asked. If this... man... was any danger at all to Harry, he would find a way to take him down. No matter what. Another smile flitted across Pierson’s face.
“There are stranger things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
“What sort of answer is that, *Pierson*?” Thomas almost spat out the name, more convinced than ever that it wasn’t his true one.
“The only one you’re getting, Thomas Raith, unless Harry chooses otherwise. Relax; I’m not going to hurt him. Or you. Do you really think he,” Pierson nodded at the somnolent figure of Mouse sprawled on the rug, “would let me near the guy if I had any intentions of doing so?” Thomas relaxed as Mouse raised his head and wagged his tail; he might not have much faith in Harry’s ability to look after himself, but he had every confidence in Mouse and if the dog was okay with this then Thomas would just have to be too.
“You have a point.” He admitted, and stepped back as Pierson moved past him, tray in hand. It was all terribly domesticated and he couldn’t help but smile as he watched the figure disappear up the stairs. Then his face fell as realisation hit him. If Pierson was going *up* stairs with tray in hand, then he obviously didn’t intend to be coming back down any time soon. Thomas sighed; it was clearly time to be leaving again. He decided to go out of the other entrance, and passed the hidden door to Harry’s lab on the way. An idea struck him and he paused, knocking carefully on the door before attempting to open it. He stuck his head round it to find a rather distressed looking Bob poring over some mouldy looking text.
“Hey, Bob?”
“Yes, Thomas?”
“Do you fancy going out for a walk? I can’t stay here, and it would be nice to have some company.” Bob looked in the direction of Harry’s room and sighed, before smiling wryly.
“You know, I think I just might.”
Author: A Lanart
Fandom: Dresden Files/Highlander
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None. Set Some time After Blood rites in the DF book verse. If you've met Thomas and Mouse, you won't be spoiled.
Characters/pairings: Thomas, Bob, Mouse, Methos/Harry
Disclaimer: Jim Butcher owns the Dresden Files, Davis/Panzer owns Highlander
There's a quote from dear old Will in there somewhere too, and he doesn't belong to me either.
A/N: This takes place the day after In the Bleak Midwinter and A Mistletoe Kiss in the ' With Friends Like These' universe. In this AU, Harry lives in his tv verse home rather than his book verse basement, just because I like it better and Bob is his indomitable tv version self.
~*~
It was late - or early, Thomas amended to himself - when he got back to Harry’s, only to find his way into the place blocked by Bob’s incorporeal presence. Out of politeness’ sake he decided not to walk straight through the ghost, and stopped, arms folded, waiting for some sort of explanation. He knew Bob wasn’t best pleased about the arrangement he had with Harry, but it was the first time the ghost had stopped him from entering. Then Thomas realised that Bob was looking almost flustered.
“I really wouldn’t come in any further if I was you.” The ghost said, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket.
“Bob, I live here. I’m recognised by the wards. What harm am I going to do?” Thomas took a step further, crossing the invisible line of the inner wards, feeling their caress over his skin as he entered. Bob took a step back, but didn’t move out of the way. Thomas frowned, there was something teasing at his senses...
“Thomas. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to be here right now.” All Thomas wanted was a shower, and to kick back for a little while. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with an obstreperous ghost and made sure the icy tone of his voice reflected that.
“Really.”
“Yes, really. I...” Whatever Bob was going to say was cut off by the sound of a soft moan from the direction of Harry’s bedroom on the mezzanine floor. Thomas’ vampire senses reeled, and he could feel his eyes blazing. He growled low in his throat as the heady scent and taste of passion slammed into him. Desperately he tried to clamp down on the almost overwhelming hunger and desire to feed on whoever was producing such a delicious banquet of emotions.
“Harry?” He asked breathlessly, fighting for control. Even so he couldn’t keep a note of incredulity out of his voice. Harry was a virtual monk; surely it couldn’t be him moaning like a wanton... Thomas shook his head angrily. He would not succumb to the demon inside himself in Harry’s home. He took a step backwards. Bob glanced at the stairs as another moan echoed round the room, and then nodded.
“Harry.” He confirmed. “Now will you get out?” Thomas fled, trying to remind himself that Harry was his *brother* and that the thoughts he was having about him had no place in modern society. There were times he really hated his vampiric nature, and this had to rate as one of them. He ran, hoping that physical exertion and distance would dampen the fire in his blood and smother his longing for forbidden things. Maybe he would find a willing body to help him satiate his hunger and maybe he would manage to get himself under control without resorting to outside help. One thing was clear, he wouldn’t be returning to Harry’s place for some time.
Later on, *much* later on, when Thomas returned, he stuck his head cautiously round the door wanting to see if Bob was still on guard duty before he attempted to enter. There was no sign of the ghost so Thomas assumed it was safe to go in. That didn’t stop him hesitating after he’d closed the door behind him, listening for anything that seemed to be out of place. The only sound he heard was the chink of crockery from the kitchen area and he headed in that direction, only to find someone who most definitely *wasn’t* Harry, and was also very male. White Court vampire or not, Thomas felt himself blushing. He’d teased Harry unmercifully about his apparent lack of sexual curiosity toward his own gender and to run into the half-naked embodiment of that curiosity in the *kitchen* of all places was something that Thomas had never expected to encounter while living with his brother. The man turned, showing off a very patrician profile and a lean but finely muscled torso. Thomas bit his lip, and the man smiled, hazel eyes gleaming.
“You must be Thomas,” he said. Thomas swallowed, and nodded.
“That’s me. Who the hell are you?”
“Adam Pierson. I’m an old friend of Harry’s.” Thomas drew a breath, fully prepared to say that *he’d* never heard of any friend of Harry’s called Adam, only to find himself interrupted before he opened his mouth. “From before your time.” Adam added, in a tone that indicated that he was amused about this rather than otherwise. Thomas let the breath go with a woosh and stepped toward Adam with his hand outstretched, only to be surprised by the other man’s sudden step backward.
“I really don’t think we need to do that,” he said, moving out of Thomas’ reach. Thomas looked at his hand, and then at the man who had been sharing his brother’s bed.
“Why?”
“Because I would burn you to a cinder in a moment, little vampire, and I don’t think Harry would be very happy if I did that.” Half naked or not, Adam Pierson, if that was indeed his name, looked dangerous and not entirely human himself. Thomas let a trickle of his awareness out, tasting the aura of the man and shuddered at the electricity-like tingle it produced.
“Never mind who are you; *what* are you?” Thomas asked. If this... man... was any danger at all to Harry, he would find a way to take him down. No matter what. Another smile flitted across Pierson’s face.
“There are stranger things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
“What sort of answer is that, *Pierson*?” Thomas almost spat out the name, more convinced than ever that it wasn’t his true one.
“The only one you’re getting, Thomas Raith, unless Harry chooses otherwise. Relax; I’m not going to hurt him. Or you. Do you really think he,” Pierson nodded at the somnolent figure of Mouse sprawled on the rug, “would let me near the guy if I had any intentions of doing so?” Thomas relaxed as Mouse raised his head and wagged his tail; he might not have much faith in Harry’s ability to look after himself, but he had every confidence in Mouse and if the dog was okay with this then Thomas would just have to be too.
“You have a point.” He admitted, and stepped back as Pierson moved past him, tray in hand. It was all terribly domesticated and he couldn’t help but smile as he watched the figure disappear up the stairs. Then his face fell as realisation hit him. If Pierson was going *up* stairs with tray in hand, then he obviously didn’t intend to be coming back down any time soon. Thomas sighed; it was clearly time to be leaving again. He decided to go out of the other entrance, and passed the hidden door to Harry’s lab on the way. An idea struck him and he paused, knocking carefully on the door before attempting to open it. He stuck his head round it to find a rather distressed looking Bob poring over some mouldy looking text.
“Hey, Bob?”
“Yes, Thomas?”
“Do you fancy going out for a walk? I can’t stay here, and it would be nice to have some company.” Bob looked in the direction of Harry’s room and sighed, before smiling wryly.
“You know, I think I just might.”