For Cyloran - A Wizard's Night In
Whew! Just in time!
Title: A Wizard's Night in
For: cyloran
Author: Huggle
Verse: TV verse
Request: any kind of Bob and Harry friendship fic
Betas: kensieg for trying and keenir for bailing me out and that line (now attributed to Bob) - thanks and hugs! Any errors within are all mine.
Spoilers: nothing specific - reference to Harry's past with his uncle.
Warnings: none, a little mild angst?
Words: 1407
"Bob? Can you come out here for a second?"
Bob sighed, finger poised over the last glowing sigil. A line of fiery text stretched out across most of the room, representing the last and most crucial part of the Guiterrez Incantation. An interruption now was at best inadvisable, at worst potentially lethal. Still, if Harry wanted his building transported instantly to one of the Shade Dimensions, then that was his affair. It wasn't for a lowly familiar to question.
Abandoning the spell, Bob passed through the wall of the lab, and out into the main living area of Harry's split level home. They were alone, so there was no danger of someone outside of their circle witnessing it. He watched Harry turn suddenly to face him, hastily concealing something behind his back.
"Yes, Harry? I do hope this is something urgent. Perhaps case-related? You don't need me reminding you that the rent is due this week, and I don't think Mr Walters will be put off again by you claiming your last paycheck has been held up in the mail...." He trailed off, distracted by the half-furtive, half-guilty look on his owner's face. Harry couldn't have appeared any shiftier if his life depended on it. "What have you done?"
A brief spark of anger flared in Harry's eyes. "What have I-? Why do you always assume I've screwed something up, Bob? Not everything I touch goes south for the winter."
Bob stared at him calmly. “True. Some things go north.”
"Ok, so I’m not perfect! Happy?"
"Of course. So, no sign of a client?" It was easier to replace unfounded irritation with despondency even if it did make him feel cruel.
Harry shrugged, and glanced at his desk. Several bills lay sprawled across the blotter, demands for money that presently outpaced the wizard's capacity for supply. And whatever Harry was up to, it did not seem to be work-related. "I'll find something. Murphy can't seem to go a week lately without tripping over something more in my field than hers." It was to his credit that he sounded regretful over that. "Anyway, I figured you needed to take a break."
Bob phased through the sofa, and motioned at whatever Harry was trying - poorly - to hide behind his back. "Yes. Harry, you haven't taken delivery of any unusual packages, have you? Or let the wards lapse again? Are you feeling...odd?" Because the last time Harry had suggested Bob be allowed a holiday, he had been thirteen, and Justin had rewarded his concern over the welfare of a servant by confining him to his room for a day with nothing to eat.
Harry showed him a look split between annoyance and that peculiar mish-mash of bashful shame that he did so well. "No, Bob, I'm not ill. I'm not under a spell. None of the Courts' citizens have had their teeth into me, one way or the other. Just...come here, will ya?"
As directed, Bob obeyed, and watched as Harry withdrew his hands from being his back. A tattered plastic case, cracked across the front, proclaimed the title: ‘In This Our Life’. "It's a rental," Harry said, his words tumbling together. "So, it has to go back in the morning." He stood there, the DVD held out, and Bob felt something clench tightly in his chest. Even with the lack of a body for more than three centuries, he still had what he supposed could be termed phantom sensations. He was glad, in a way.
"Harry," he said, finally. "I'm touched. But -"
Harry tossed the DVD down onto the couch. "Yeah, I know, stupid. It's just...I know you like these and I'm sorry I chased you out the other night. And for treating you like a belonging and not a person. I said...you remember about six months after I moved in with Justin? I asked you about what it felt like? And I told you I would never treat you like he did."
"You were a child, Harry."
"Don’t make excuses for me. But just being around him...he kind of wore me down, you know? I could see it happening, but a part of me got closed off, and it didn't snap back until-"
He stopped abruptly, and ducked his head. Bob clenched his fists, unable to offer comfort beyond spoken sympathy.
"Harry, look at me. Now. Justin had planned for your life at the mansion, at his side, for longer than you know. He had every second organised, laid out. There was never any chance for you to be anything other than what he had determined, except that he had underestimated you. You mustn't bury yourself under any more guilt."
Harry nodded, and drew a hand quickly across his eyes. "Okay. Enough. Let's get down to business." He recovered the DVD and slid the disc into the player. "I can't afford the late charges."
Bob smiled. "And I can't sit down."
Harry grinned at him; he murmured something quietly under his breath, formed a gesture in the air, and the desk scraped noisily across the floor towards them. "Got it covered," he said, and hopped up on it as Bob stood by his side.
**
“You didn’t like it.”
Bob lowered his hands from his face, and turned to stare at Harry. The wizard seemed peculiarly unmoved - of course, romance and drama were not particularly to his liking, Bob supposed. His life had quite little of the first and far too much of the second to enjoy either on film. “Actually, I did. The sense of moral justice, of karma, was done to just the right degree, and Ms de Havilland’s wariness to commit again in the wake of her husband and sister’s betrayal.... Very sharply played. And moving.”
Harry climbed down off the desk. “Wow. Bob the film critic. Hey, there’s a way to get a little extra income. You could do movie reviews...I’ll type them up and we can send them in to the Tribune. “
“And this would be you mocking me. After such an enjoyable evening as well.”
Harry grinned at him. “Otherwise, it was too much like my last date.” He retrieved the DVD and clicked it back into its case. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Bob.”
“But did you?” Bob watched as Harry put the DVD down on the desk, and traced the outline of the cover with his finger. In a way, Bob mused, the story was comparable to Harry’s own life. Oh, he had no sibling to run away with his wife, but the idea of betrayal...of some divine power dealing out cold retribution.... If Harry had known the content of the film, Bob was sure he would have chosen something lighter. Frankly, he would have expected Harry to choose ‘Pretty Woman’. Or perhaps Harry had known what it was about.
At any rate, if Harry was taking the film’s theme to heart, Bob was in no doubt as to which part the wizard played.
“If any judgement was to fall, Harry, it fell on Justin, and rightfully so. There is no vindictive righter of wrongs waiting in the wings to strike you down. If your life is hard, it’s not because you deserve it.”
Harry shrugged. “No. It’s hard for heaps of reasons, Bob, and maybe that is one of them. But it’s also good because I have you. Anyway...midnight, and I’m gonna turn in. Maybe tomorrow, a really rich client will wander in with a problem that only I can handle.”
Bob chuckled. “We can but hope. Goodnight, Harry.”
“Night, Bob.”
After Harry had trudged upstairs, Bob cast his eye over the apartment’s wards, which, to him, glowed like fire along the walls and ceiling, but were invisible to anyone outside the magic community. In a sense, Harry’s belief that he was due some form of punishment over Justin’s death was like a self-fulfilling prophecy. He wished there was a spell he could cast, or some rune he could inscribe that would defend Harry from that fear, the guilt. Truly, he was terrified that one day that belief would get Harry killed...if not by a lack of concentration or slow response in a life or death situation, then simply by Harry giving up.
But as long as he was here, in the ownership of one embattled but courageous and often foolish young wizard, Bob was determined to stay both those things as long as he could.
Title: A Wizard's Night in
For: cyloran
Author: Huggle
Verse: TV verse
Request: any kind of Bob and Harry friendship fic
Betas: kensieg for trying and keenir for bailing me out and that line (now attributed to Bob) - thanks and hugs! Any errors within are all mine.
Spoilers: nothing specific - reference to Harry's past with his uncle.
Warnings: none, a little mild angst?
Words: 1407
"Bob? Can you come out here for a second?"
Bob sighed, finger poised over the last glowing sigil. A line of fiery text stretched out across most of the room, representing the last and most crucial part of the Guiterrez Incantation. An interruption now was at best inadvisable, at worst potentially lethal. Still, if Harry wanted his building transported instantly to one of the Shade Dimensions, then that was his affair. It wasn't for a lowly familiar to question.
Abandoning the spell, Bob passed through the wall of the lab, and out into the main living area of Harry's split level home. They were alone, so there was no danger of someone outside of their circle witnessing it. He watched Harry turn suddenly to face him, hastily concealing something behind his back.
"Yes, Harry? I do hope this is something urgent. Perhaps case-related? You don't need me reminding you that the rent is due this week, and I don't think Mr Walters will be put off again by you claiming your last paycheck has been held up in the mail...." He trailed off, distracted by the half-furtive, half-guilty look on his owner's face. Harry couldn't have appeared any shiftier if his life depended on it. "What have you done?"
A brief spark of anger flared in Harry's eyes. "What have I-? Why do you always assume I've screwed something up, Bob? Not everything I touch goes south for the winter."
Bob stared at him calmly. “True. Some things go north.”
"Ok, so I’m not perfect! Happy?"
"Of course. So, no sign of a client?" It was easier to replace unfounded irritation with despondency even if it did make him feel cruel.
Harry shrugged, and glanced at his desk. Several bills lay sprawled across the blotter, demands for money that presently outpaced the wizard's capacity for supply. And whatever Harry was up to, it did not seem to be work-related. "I'll find something. Murphy can't seem to go a week lately without tripping over something more in my field than hers." It was to his credit that he sounded regretful over that. "Anyway, I figured you needed to take a break."
Bob phased through the sofa, and motioned at whatever Harry was trying - poorly - to hide behind his back. "Yes. Harry, you haven't taken delivery of any unusual packages, have you? Or let the wards lapse again? Are you feeling...odd?" Because the last time Harry had suggested Bob be allowed a holiday, he had been thirteen, and Justin had rewarded his concern over the welfare of a servant by confining him to his room for a day with nothing to eat.
Harry showed him a look split between annoyance and that peculiar mish-mash of bashful shame that he did so well. "No, Bob, I'm not ill. I'm not under a spell. None of the Courts' citizens have had their teeth into me, one way or the other. Just...come here, will ya?"
As directed, Bob obeyed, and watched as Harry withdrew his hands from being his back. A tattered plastic case, cracked across the front, proclaimed the title: ‘In This Our Life’. "It's a rental," Harry said, his words tumbling together. "So, it has to go back in the morning." He stood there, the DVD held out, and Bob felt something clench tightly in his chest. Even with the lack of a body for more than three centuries, he still had what he supposed could be termed phantom sensations. He was glad, in a way.
"Harry," he said, finally. "I'm touched. But -"
Harry tossed the DVD down onto the couch. "Yeah, I know, stupid. It's just...I know you like these and I'm sorry I chased you out the other night. And for treating you like a belonging and not a person. I said...you remember about six months after I moved in with Justin? I asked you about what it felt like? And I told you I would never treat you like he did."
"You were a child, Harry."
"Don’t make excuses for me. But just being around him...he kind of wore me down, you know? I could see it happening, but a part of me got closed off, and it didn't snap back until-"
He stopped abruptly, and ducked his head. Bob clenched his fists, unable to offer comfort beyond spoken sympathy.
"Harry, look at me. Now. Justin had planned for your life at the mansion, at his side, for longer than you know. He had every second organised, laid out. There was never any chance for you to be anything other than what he had determined, except that he had underestimated you. You mustn't bury yourself under any more guilt."
Harry nodded, and drew a hand quickly across his eyes. "Okay. Enough. Let's get down to business." He recovered the DVD and slid the disc into the player. "I can't afford the late charges."
Bob smiled. "And I can't sit down."
Harry grinned at him; he murmured something quietly under his breath, formed a gesture in the air, and the desk scraped noisily across the floor towards them. "Got it covered," he said, and hopped up on it as Bob stood by his side.
**
“You didn’t like it.”
Bob lowered his hands from his face, and turned to stare at Harry. The wizard seemed peculiarly unmoved - of course, romance and drama were not particularly to his liking, Bob supposed. His life had quite little of the first and far too much of the second to enjoy either on film. “Actually, I did. The sense of moral justice, of karma, was done to just the right degree, and Ms de Havilland’s wariness to commit again in the wake of her husband and sister’s betrayal.... Very sharply played. And moving.”
Harry climbed down off the desk. “Wow. Bob the film critic. Hey, there’s a way to get a little extra income. You could do movie reviews...I’ll type them up and we can send them in to the Tribune. “
“And this would be you mocking me. After such an enjoyable evening as well.”
Harry grinned at him. “Otherwise, it was too much like my last date.” He retrieved the DVD and clicked it back into its case. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Bob.”
“But did you?” Bob watched as Harry put the DVD down on the desk, and traced the outline of the cover with his finger. In a way, Bob mused, the story was comparable to Harry’s own life. Oh, he had no sibling to run away with his wife, but the idea of betrayal...of some divine power dealing out cold retribution.... If Harry had known the content of the film, Bob was sure he would have chosen something lighter. Frankly, he would have expected Harry to choose ‘Pretty Woman’. Or perhaps Harry had known what it was about.
At any rate, if Harry was taking the film’s theme to heart, Bob was in no doubt as to which part the wizard played.
“If any judgement was to fall, Harry, it fell on Justin, and rightfully so. There is no vindictive righter of wrongs waiting in the wings to strike you down. If your life is hard, it’s not because you deserve it.”
Harry shrugged. “No. It’s hard for heaps of reasons, Bob, and maybe that is one of them. But it’s also good because I have you. Anyway...midnight, and I’m gonna turn in. Maybe tomorrow, a really rich client will wander in with a problem that only I can handle.”
Bob chuckled. “We can but hope. Goodnight, Harry.”
“Night, Bob.”
After Harry had trudged upstairs, Bob cast his eye over the apartment’s wards, which, to him, glowed like fire along the walls and ceiling, but were invisible to anyone outside the magic community. In a sense, Harry’s belief that he was due some form of punishment over Justin’s death was like a self-fulfilling prophecy. He wished there was a spell he could cast, or some rune he could inscribe that would defend Harry from that fear, the guilt. Truly, he was terrified that one day that belief would get Harry killed...if not by a lack of concentration or slow response in a life or death situation, then simply by Harry giving up.
But as long as he was here, in the ownership of one embattled but courageous and often foolish young wizard, Bob was determined to stay both those things as long as he could.