Desire 2/?
Title: Desire
Author: Aphrodite Roslin
Book or TV: TV (I'm afraid I haven't even begun to read the series. I know, I lose at life :D)
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: I don't think there are any this chapter
Disclaimer: Jim Butcher owns The Dresden Files. Harry owns my soul. Bob owns my heart.
Summary: Harry Dresden wanted a little hired help. What he got was a whole world of trouble, courtesy of one strange beautiful young woman. And this time, he's in way over his head. (Okay, yeah, the summary's kind of corny and nondescriptive [which apparently isn't even a word], but give it a shot please. It's my first story ever written for this fandom! :D)
Chapter 1:
http://aphroditeroslin.livejournal.com/7522.html#cutid1
"Dresden, are you in there?" Lt. Murphy knocked loudly on his front door.
"Yeah, Murphy, hang on just a second!" Harry called as he made his way over to the door, drying his hair with a gray towel. "Hey, come on in." He greeted her with a smile. A visit from Murphy usually meant there was money on the horizon.
"I’ve got a case for you," she informed him as he closed the door behind her.
"One that requires a paid consultant, I presume?" Dresden hinted.
"Just as soon as you help me close it," Murphy confirmed.
"Okay then, what have you got for me?" Harry questioned, throwing his towel onto his nearby desk.
"A series of suspicious deaths," the lieutenant began while opening the file in her hands. "No known connections between the deceased except that they all died in broad daylight and in very public places where witnesses say that the deceased seemed to spontaneously combust."
"Spontaneous combustion, huh?" harry commented as he took the pictures Murphy was handing him. "Certainly don’t see that everyday."
"No," Murphy agreed as Dresden began flipping through photo after photo of the ashes of the lieutenant’s newest case. "I figured this was right up your creepy alley."
"Well, you’re probably right," Dresden replied, obviously intently interested in the pictures he held. "Do you have the whole file?"
"Yeah, I made you a copy. It’s right here," Murphy replied, handing him the manila folder she had had tucked under her left arm.
"All right, I’ll just look this over, and Ill get back to you."
"That’s it?" Murphy questioned in disbelief. "No digging for more information? No insisting on exploring the scenes?"
"Not today, Murphy. I’ll be in touch," he said, taking her by the elbow and leading her back toward the door.
"Okay, but if you know something -"
"Goodbye, Murphy," Dresden kept smiling as he led her outside and closed the door after her.
"Hey, Bob!" he turned around only to come face to face with the ghost in question. "Don’t do that."
"You bellowed?" Bob ignored his comment.
"I assume you were listening to all of that?" Harry questioned. Bob nodded his affirmation.
"This can’t just be a coincidence, can it? All these mysterious fiery deaths start happening at the same time a pyrokinetic comes into town?"
"You are correct that it is suspicious. Unfortunately, coincidence does not equal guilt. Anyone with the gift can learn to control fire. I’m afraid you’re going to need a lot more proof before you start making any accusations," Bob replied, giving Harry a cautious look. Harry thought for a second before a light seemed to switch on over his head.
"I’ve got her number right here," he said while picking up Miss Bain’s card. She owned a bookstore. Huh. "What do you say we give her a call? See what she’s been up to?"
"It’s as good a plan as any, but, Harry, be careful," Bob warned as Dresden made his way over to the phone. "I have a very bad feeling about all of this."
"What is with you and this girl anyway?" Harry asked as he picked up the telephone. "Are you sure there’s not something you need to tell me?"
"Nothing consequential. Just keep your distance," Bob answered cryptically. "There’s something…strange about this girl."
"If you say so, Bob," Dresden agreed half-heartedly as he finished dialing. Bob sighed heavily. Why couldn’t the boy learn to listen?
"Hello, Miss Bain? Yes, hi, this is Harry Dresden. We spoke yesterday in my office. Listen, I was wondering if you’d like to have a cup of coffee sometime; discuss an arrangement of some sort? This evening? Sounds great. There’s a little diner just down the road from my place. Yeah, that’s the one. I’ll meet you there at seven then? Okay, I’ll see you then. Bye." Dresden placed the phone back in its cradle then turned to face his still very nervous friend. "Well, talk about a date with the devil." Harry grinned irresolutely. Bob said nothing.
Seven different victims; each dead within the same forty-eight hours; each with no known ties to each other. At least that’s how the Chicago Police Department saw it. Thanks to Harry Dresden’s unending problems with the magical high-ups, he knew there was at least one common connection linking each of these poor bastards. Whoever or what ever was doing this was picking of Chicago’s wardens one by one. The only questions were who, why, and how were they doing it? That was what Harry intended to find out. Exactly how he was going to do that…well…he was working on it.
Chicago Zoo
4:30 p.m.
"Bob," Harry summoned, making sure the coast was clear. The ghost materialized with his usual fiery dramatics and looked around in wonder as he took in the sights surrounding him.
"Beautiful," he commented as he watched the animals play all around him. It was in this moment that Harry realized that, in all his centuries, Bob had never been to a zoo before.
"No time for that now, Bob. We’re not exactly suppose to be here," Harry told him, still looking around nervously.
"You mean we’re breaking an entering?" Bob questioned with disapproval clear in his voice.
"I mean this is where the last victim died. Now get over there, stick your hand in, and tell me what you get."
"I will try, Harry, but I cannot guarantee anything. If there was black magic performed here, the fire was most likely used to mask it," Bob warned him.
"I know. Don’t worry about it. Just tell me whatever you can find," Harry voiced his understanding.
Bob gave a nod in return and made his way over to the black, charred ground that marked Marisa Logan’s final resting-place. Crouching down close to the ground, he placed his otherwise useless hand onto the gruesome mark and waited for the magic to start. But something was wrong. He felt…different somehow.
Suddenly his essence began to warm, becoming hotter with each passing second. This was especially unnerving, as ghosts should not have the ability to feel heat. Bob wanted to speak - to warn Harry to stay back; that something wasn’t right - but he found himself unable to make a sound or even move. Something was drawing him to this spot, and whatever it was was very very bad.
"Bob?" Harry’s voice questioned from behind him. He sounded concerned, and Bob did not like that tone.
Then suddenly the phantom heat became overwhelming, engulfing the ghost’s entire being. And he screamed. Louder than he had in 600 years.
"Bob!" Harry yelled frantically as the heat continued to rise and sear nonexistent flesh. There was a blinding flash of red, orange, and blue then suddenly the spirit was flying backward through the air. He’d never been more grateful for being dead. The relief that the end of the ordeal brought was short-lived, however, as Bob sat up and looked to his left to see Harry lying flat and unmoving on the ground.
"Harry!" he shouted, leaping to his nonexistent feet and rushing to his friend’s side. "Harry?" bob repeated, falling to the ground next to him. Dresden let out a pained moan, and sighed heavily in relief.
"Bob?" Harry questioned, a hint of panic in his voice as he blinked opoen his eyes.
"I’m still here, Harry. Are you all right?" Bob replied softly, not even attempting to hide the concern in his voice.
"I think everything’s still in tact," Harry groaned, attempting to sit up.
"Perhaps you should remain lying down," Bob told him quickly in concern. Harry groaned again as he continued to ease into a sitting position.
"I’m fine, Bob," he insisted.
"At least let me take a look inside; search for internal injury."
"No. Really, I’m fine."
"If you say so," Bob agreed after a slight hesitation.
"What the hell was that anyway?" Dresden changed the subject, but made no attempt to pick himself up off the ground.
"I’m not sure. I’ve never seen anything like it," Bob admitted. "And I’ve certainly never…"
"Exploded?" Harry finished for him.
"Yes," Bob agreed.
"Do you have any idea what could have caused something like that?"
"Several," Bob confirmed. "None of them good. This is black magic of the highest degree. Whoever is the cause of this is not someone whom you should be getting yourself mixed up with."
"Yeah, I figured as much," Harry sighed.
"Harry, you must figure out whether or not Sera is responsible. If she is, her arrival at your office could mean very bad news for you."
"I know. I know," Harry ran his hands down his face in a very frustrated manner, rising slowly to his feet. Bob followed suit. "Which reminds me, I’ve got a date. Care to join us?"
"I wouldn’t want to be a third wheel," Bob joked.
"Nah, I insist. Besides, you’ll be in your skull. She won’t even know you’re there," Harry smirked.
"Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?" Bob smirked back, vanishing in a puff of smoke.
Author: Aphrodite Roslin
Book or TV: TV (I'm afraid I haven't even begun to read the series. I know, I lose at life :D)
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: I don't think there are any this chapter
Disclaimer: Jim Butcher owns The Dresden Files. Harry owns my soul. Bob owns my heart.
Summary: Harry Dresden wanted a little hired help. What he got was a whole world of trouble, courtesy of one strange beautiful young woman. And this time, he's in way over his head. (Okay, yeah, the summary's kind of corny and nondescriptive [which apparently isn't even a word], but give it a shot please. It's my first story ever written for this fandom! :D)
Chapter 1:
http://aphroditeroslin.livejournal.com/7522.html#cutid1
"Dresden, are you in there?" Lt. Murphy knocked loudly on his front door.
"Yeah, Murphy, hang on just a second!" Harry called as he made his way over to the door, drying his hair with a gray towel. "Hey, come on in." He greeted her with a smile. A visit from Murphy usually meant there was money on the horizon.
"I’ve got a case for you," she informed him as he closed the door behind her.
"One that requires a paid consultant, I presume?" Dresden hinted.
"Just as soon as you help me close it," Murphy confirmed.
"Okay then, what have you got for me?" Harry questioned, throwing his towel onto his nearby desk.
"A series of suspicious deaths," the lieutenant began while opening the file in her hands. "No known connections between the deceased except that they all died in broad daylight and in very public places where witnesses say that the deceased seemed to spontaneously combust."
"Spontaneous combustion, huh?" harry commented as he took the pictures Murphy was handing him. "Certainly don’t see that everyday."
"No," Murphy agreed as Dresden began flipping through photo after photo of the ashes of the lieutenant’s newest case. "I figured this was right up your creepy alley."
"Well, you’re probably right," Dresden replied, obviously intently interested in the pictures he held. "Do you have the whole file?"
"Yeah, I made you a copy. It’s right here," Murphy replied, handing him the manila folder she had had tucked under her left arm.
"All right, I’ll just look this over, and Ill get back to you."
"That’s it?" Murphy questioned in disbelief. "No digging for more information? No insisting on exploring the scenes?"
"Not today, Murphy. I’ll be in touch," he said, taking her by the elbow and leading her back toward the door.
"Okay, but if you know something -"
"Goodbye, Murphy," Dresden kept smiling as he led her outside and closed the door after her.
"Hey, Bob!" he turned around only to come face to face with the ghost in question. "Don’t do that."
"You bellowed?" Bob ignored his comment.
"I assume you were listening to all of that?" Harry questioned. Bob nodded his affirmation.
"This can’t just be a coincidence, can it? All these mysterious fiery deaths start happening at the same time a pyrokinetic comes into town?"
"You are correct that it is suspicious. Unfortunately, coincidence does not equal guilt. Anyone with the gift can learn to control fire. I’m afraid you’re going to need a lot more proof before you start making any accusations," Bob replied, giving Harry a cautious look. Harry thought for a second before a light seemed to switch on over his head.
"I’ve got her number right here," he said while picking up Miss Bain’s card. She owned a bookstore. Huh. "What do you say we give her a call? See what she’s been up to?"
"It’s as good a plan as any, but, Harry, be careful," Bob warned as Dresden made his way over to the phone. "I have a very bad feeling about all of this."
"What is with you and this girl anyway?" Harry asked as he picked up the telephone. "Are you sure there’s not something you need to tell me?"
"Nothing consequential. Just keep your distance," Bob answered cryptically. "There’s something…strange about this girl."
"If you say so, Bob," Dresden agreed half-heartedly as he finished dialing. Bob sighed heavily. Why couldn’t the boy learn to listen?
"Hello, Miss Bain? Yes, hi, this is Harry Dresden. We spoke yesterday in my office. Listen, I was wondering if you’d like to have a cup of coffee sometime; discuss an arrangement of some sort? This evening? Sounds great. There’s a little diner just down the road from my place. Yeah, that’s the one. I’ll meet you there at seven then? Okay, I’ll see you then. Bye." Dresden placed the phone back in its cradle then turned to face his still very nervous friend. "Well, talk about a date with the devil." Harry grinned irresolutely. Bob said nothing.
Seven different victims; each dead within the same forty-eight hours; each with no known ties to each other. At least that’s how the Chicago Police Department saw it. Thanks to Harry Dresden’s unending problems with the magical high-ups, he knew there was at least one common connection linking each of these poor bastards. Whoever or what ever was doing this was picking of Chicago’s wardens one by one. The only questions were who, why, and how were they doing it? That was what Harry intended to find out. Exactly how he was going to do that…well…he was working on it.
Chicago Zoo
4:30 p.m.
"Bob," Harry summoned, making sure the coast was clear. The ghost materialized with his usual fiery dramatics and looked around in wonder as he took in the sights surrounding him.
"Beautiful," he commented as he watched the animals play all around him. It was in this moment that Harry realized that, in all his centuries, Bob had never been to a zoo before.
"No time for that now, Bob. We’re not exactly suppose to be here," Harry told him, still looking around nervously.
"You mean we’re breaking an entering?" Bob questioned with disapproval clear in his voice.
"I mean this is where the last victim died. Now get over there, stick your hand in, and tell me what you get."
"I will try, Harry, but I cannot guarantee anything. If there was black magic performed here, the fire was most likely used to mask it," Bob warned him.
"I know. Don’t worry about it. Just tell me whatever you can find," Harry voiced his understanding.
Bob gave a nod in return and made his way over to the black, charred ground that marked Marisa Logan’s final resting-place. Crouching down close to the ground, he placed his otherwise useless hand onto the gruesome mark and waited for the magic to start. But something was wrong. He felt…different somehow.
Suddenly his essence began to warm, becoming hotter with each passing second. This was especially unnerving, as ghosts should not have the ability to feel heat. Bob wanted to speak - to warn Harry to stay back; that something wasn’t right - but he found himself unable to make a sound or even move. Something was drawing him to this spot, and whatever it was was very very bad.
"Bob?" Harry’s voice questioned from behind him. He sounded concerned, and Bob did not like that tone.
Then suddenly the phantom heat became overwhelming, engulfing the ghost’s entire being. And he screamed. Louder than he had in 600 years.
"Bob!" Harry yelled frantically as the heat continued to rise and sear nonexistent flesh. There was a blinding flash of red, orange, and blue then suddenly the spirit was flying backward through the air. He’d never been more grateful for being dead. The relief that the end of the ordeal brought was short-lived, however, as Bob sat up and looked to his left to see Harry lying flat and unmoving on the ground.
"Harry!" he shouted, leaping to his nonexistent feet and rushing to his friend’s side. "Harry?" bob repeated, falling to the ground next to him. Dresden let out a pained moan, and sighed heavily in relief.
"Bob?" Harry questioned, a hint of panic in his voice as he blinked opoen his eyes.
"I’m still here, Harry. Are you all right?" Bob replied softly, not even attempting to hide the concern in his voice.
"I think everything’s still in tact," Harry groaned, attempting to sit up.
"Perhaps you should remain lying down," Bob told him quickly in concern. Harry groaned again as he continued to ease into a sitting position.
"I’m fine, Bob," he insisted.
"At least let me take a look inside; search for internal injury."
"No. Really, I’m fine."
"If you say so," Bob agreed after a slight hesitation.
"What the hell was that anyway?" Dresden changed the subject, but made no attempt to pick himself up off the ground.
"I’m not sure. I’ve never seen anything like it," Bob admitted. "And I’ve certainly never…"
"Exploded?" Harry finished for him.
"Yes," Bob agreed.
"Do you have any idea what could have caused something like that?"
"Several," Bob confirmed. "None of them good. This is black magic of the highest degree. Whoever is the cause of this is not someone whom you should be getting yourself mixed up with."
"Yeah, I figured as much," Harry sighed.
"Harry, you must figure out whether or not Sera is responsible. If she is, her arrival at your office could mean very bad news for you."
"I know. I know," Harry ran his hands down his face in a very frustrated manner, rising slowly to his feet. Bob followed suit. "Which reminds me, I’ve got a date. Care to join us?"
"I wouldn’t want to be a third wheel," Bob joked.
"Nah, I insist. Besides, you’ll be in your skull. She won’t even know you’re there," Harry smirked.
"Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?" Bob smirked back, vanishing in a puff of smoke.