Fic: Ordinary (Bob/Spencer, Brian)
Title: Ordinary
Pairings/Characters: Bob/Spencer, Brian
Word Count: 2918
Rating/Warnings: PG
Summary: Sometimes, going into hiding doesn't work out so well.
Notes: Again, meant for thingama_bob. Urban fantasy AU.
---
The door's unlocked when he sticks his key in. His muscles tense, ready for action out of reflex as he pushes open the door just before the point where the hinge creaks and listens. All he hears are kitchen noises, though, and Spencer's knife tapping a steady beat out on the cutting board.
He pushes the door all the way open. "I'm home." The dog deigns to leave Spencer's side to gallop over to him. Bob shakes his head and scratches the bristly hair at her ears. "You're a horrible watch dog." He locks the door and drops his keys on the hall table and makes his way to the kitchen, hooks his chin over Spencer's shoulder. He's got a growing pile of carrots and celery and peppers in front of him.
"Hey." He kisses Bob, it lands beside his lips. "Hungry?"
"Yeah. You left the door unlocked."
"Sorry." Bob doesn't need to see Spencer to know he's rolling his eyes. He nudges Bob with his elbow to make some space.
"How was work? You're home early."
"Got lucky with a couple of last minute cancellations. I thought I would make us some stir fry for dinner."
"Sounds good."
"How about you?" Spencer has raised his voice so that it easily follows Bob through the paper thin walls into the bedroom.
"It must be a full moon tonight, the kids were insane." He strips out of his button down and throws a hoodie on over his undershirt. He has to detour by the washing machine for Shout. "Jeanie and Toni got into a screaming match over the tambourines." He sprays the paint on the side of his shirt but he doesn't think the red will come out completely. He sighs.
"Aren't those two the ones who wrote the BFF song?"
"Yeah. And then Anatoli threw up in the middle of reading time."
"Thanks," Spencer calls wryly. His mouth sounds full.
Bob grins. "What, you can't handle a little up chuck with your Hardy Boys?"
"Just tell me you've been taking your vitamins."
Bob throws the shirt in the wash, along with the other stuff piled up. "He's not sick, he just does it to get out of reading time."
"That's dedication."
"That's obnoxious is what it is. I have to have a conference with his parents over this now." He rounds the kitchen again, so Spencer can see exactly how thrilled he is at the prospect. His dad's going to blow it off because it's an after school program, and his mom's going to call another fifty times worrying he's not well adjusted. Meanwhile he's probably going to get out of reading time because I'm sick of cleaning up after him."
"Sorry. Want to take your frustration out on some onions for me?"
"Gee, thanks." He slides into Spencer's place at the chopping board, though, while Spencer dumps cubes of steak into the frying pan.
"Oh, hey, some guy came around looking for you."
"Who?"
"He didn't say. It was a short dude with a bunch of tattoos. Said to tell you something about a dixie in the field? He said you'd know."
"What?" Bob asks sharply, and cuts his thumb for his trouble. "Shit."
"Hey, are you okay?" Spencer catches Bob's hand where he's got it shoved in his mouth, makes him let Spencer look. "Shit, that's pretty deep."
"I told you, you keep the knives too sharp."
Spencer shoots him a dirty look before he grabs the first aid kit from under the sink. "Come here."
"It's fine."
"Don't be a baby."
"I hope you don't treat all your patients like this," Bob grumbles, but something about it sounds off-kilter to himself.
"Just the ones who can't sue."
"Lucky me." But he lets Spencer clean out the cut--it's just a gash along his thumb--and is thankful for the distraction.
"You'll be fine," Spencer declares finally. "No stitches necessary."
"Oh, good," Bob says drolly, although he is glad--he wouldn't have gotten them anyway, but at least now he doesn't have Spencer trying to force him into it to look forward to. "I got blood on the vegetables."
Spencer cranes his neck to see around Bob. "Not all of them," he says. "We have another onion."
Bob wakes up when Spencer's alarm goes off at 5:30. "Hey, no," Spencer soothes. "Go back to sleep."
He's almost there with the sound of the shower through the walls, but then Daisy launches herself at the warm spot Spencer left behind. Bob buries his fingers in her fur. She licks the last of her breakfast off her stout nuzzle and sighs like she's in heaven.
He doses again until he blinks his eyes open to Spencer half dressed in the middle of the bedroom, hopping around on one foot trying to get his sock on.
Bob snorts. "Sit down before you crack open your skull."
Spencer is graceful in getting caught looking a little silly. He sits down beside Bob and leans so he can press a chaste kiss to Bob's lips even though Bob still has morning breath.
"Do you wanna go out tonight?" Spencer asks. Bob grumbles something that could be anything and Spencer chuckles. "I'll text you when you're awake." He leans over Bob to ruffle Daisy's fur; her tail whispers against the mattress but she isn't more willing to leave the bed to follow Spencer to the door.
Bob waits to hear the deadbolt click into place before he turns so he's all but curled around Daisy and tries to will himself back to sleep.
It doesn't work. He's hyper aware of every second ticking down until his own alarm will go off, he can't seem to fall back asleep.
He sighs, opens one eye to look at Daisy. She seems committed to slumber, but she's willing enough to reconsider when he says the magic words: "You wanna go for a walk?"
She prances around impatiently while he takes a leak and steps into the harness when he holds it out for her.
It's summertime. The world outside is already ablaze with it, even if the streets are more or less deserted, enough that Bob gives the dog enough slack on her leash so she can wander as she pleases without worrying about anyone giving her a weary look. She bounds across either edge of the sidewalk, dragging her nose through whatever she finds before darting off to the other side. She doesn't go far, more concerned with covering scent than distance, which is why Bob's surprised when she takes off straight for someone on the other side of the street, why her leash goes flying when she pulls.
"Hey! Daisy!" She runs into the back of the man's legs, wagging the stump of her tail enough to send her rump wiggling when he turns around and pets her.
Bob stops in his tracks, stupidly staring after him in the middle of the street. Even if it weren't for the power pouring off him in swirls from every inch of color, he'd know Brian anywhere.
"She's a good girl," Brian says. "I mean, Dixie was cuter, but for a boxer this one is pretty cute too. Are you waiting to get hit by a car or are you gonna come in out of the street?"
"What are you doing here?"
"Can't a guy track down an old friend without a game of 20 Questions? Nice hiding trick, by the way. There's not a whiff of magic anywhere around here, I didn't think it was you at first. How did you resist putting blessings up on the door? Your mother would be appalled."
"My mother has seen it. She likes our decor. What are you doing here?"
Brian shrugs. "Just came to see how you're doing. Long time no talk, all of that."
"Which is why you come by when I'm not home and leave my boyfriend cryptic fucking messages?"
"Cryptic? I thought it was pretty clear. What'd you want me to say, 'Sir Schechter of the Old Guard requests an audience with the exiled Lord of Briary'?"
"Shit, Brian." Bob glances around the street like someone could overhear, but suddenly the emptiness of the street made a lot more sense. "You magicked the place?"
"You're getting slow in your old age."
"Why are you bringing this to me? I left. I left for a reason."
Brian crouches in front of Daisy and she licks at his face vigorously. Her tongue catches on the hoops in his nostril and there's a static sliver of lightning when they clank together; she's willing to forget about it when Brian ruffles her ears. "I know," he says more to her than to Bob. "I know, okay? And I'm sorry. I'm sorry everything went to hell last time, too. I wouldn't have come if I could've avoided it."
Bob's eyes narrow. "What's going on?"
A look creases Brian's face, like indigestion and embarrassment all in one. "I need to call in a favor."
"No shit, Brian. Stop hedging and answer the question."
Brian sighs, rocks back on his heels, stands. Daisy nudges his hand hopefully one more time before giving up to sniff around the grass. "I need a charm."
He's charged to the gills already. Now that Bob's looking he can see the auras of power from each tattoo and strike of metal combining together into one bright layer of magic, like a shield. It doesn't even appear diminished by the work it's taking to keep their meeting private. "What kind of a charm?"
Brian raises an eyebrow; the hoop piercing his skin there sizzles. "What kind do you think?"
Anger wells up in Bob's chest when he realizes what Brian's asking him for. "Brian--"
"Bad things are coming, Bob. We're respecting your choice to stay out of it--"
"The hell you are! You're asking me to build the one charm they'll know is mine. That's bringing the fight to my fucking doorstep! I have a life out here, Brian. Do you get that? I have a life completely separate from all of that. We're talking about starting a family. Spencer doesn't even know about it!"
"What were you going to do when your kids turned out like you? 'Surprise, honey!'?"
"We're talking about adopting, dumbass."
"Oh. Hey, that's a good one."
"Yeah, it fucking is. Do you realize what you're asking me to risk?"
"Yes!" he shouts. The outburst surprises Bob, makes him forget whatever response he would have for it. Daisy raises her head from the tree she had her nose buried against, watching them attentively. "Yes, I fucking do." Brian's voice is quiet, hoarse. His shoulders are slumped as if in defeat. "You don't know what it's been like since you left, Bob. Everything's gone to hell in a hand basket. We are so goddamned close to losing it all. They wanted to come out here and make you come back to the fight. They still might." A chill runs through Bob's spine. He knows what Brian means by making him come back. "This is only a temporary reprieve, if we can't get shit going for our side again."
Daisy trots up to his side and noses his hand. Bob scratches her ears. He doesn't know if it's his imagination or if she really seems to be watching Brian more wearily now. He sighs. "Do you have the stuff?"
Brian smiles, but there's something sad in it. He opens his leather jacket to take a vial and a talisman from an inner pocket. He closes the distance between them to place them in Bob's outstretched hand. The only charge coming from it is the residual from Brian's charms, like body heat fading away. The items are blank slates calling to the power Bob has kept carefully buried. He lets it climb to the surface; it charges forward like a dog let off leash and ready for the hunt.
Bob doesn't know when he closed his eyes, but when he opens them again Brian's shirt is unbuttoned down to his naval. His other tattoos stand out vibrantly against the white of his shirt. Bob pops the cork of the vial with a flick of his thumb and douses the liquid against the bare skin opposite Brian's heart. It's water from the purest spring, completely inert, a blank slate perfect for accepting new magic.
The talisman is a rose in full bloom carved from silver. It's the finest craftsmanship he's seen from Trudueau's hand yet, befitting both the gravity of the power awaiting it and the enormity of Bob essentially stepping back into the fight he abandoned. Bob traces the whorls of the petals with the pad of his thumb, concentrating the power that wants to rush into it like a river after a dam breaks until he can release it in a controlled stream. As he watches the silver begins to change color. It starts off a weak pink but grows strength with every pass of his thumb, until the petals become the deep red of heart's blood.
Bob holds it up to show Brian, as if he's expecting him to change his mind. Brian hasn't looked away from the talisman though. Bob places it just above Brian's skin -- then Brian looks at him; there's a charge of excitement in his expression, just like always. The water calls to the metal like a magnet, but Bob holds it steady as if he's giving Brian an opportunity to back out.
Brian doesn't. Bob isn't surprised. He lets the talisman go.
It slaps against Brian's skin and stays there for a minute. Brian gasps as the magic and water start reacting. There's a moment where Brian's chest is almost, almost insubstantial against the side of Bob's hand, when flesh can't decide if it's going to withstand power or if this will be the time it collapses. Bob flattens his palm against Brian's heart, encouraging his body to remain corporeal. It's all his skin needs to hold steady. Brian's head falls back with his mouth hanging open as the talisman begins to flatten and become part of his flesh. The auras of the other charms shift and separate to make room for this new addition, one that overwhelms them all.
As they become part of his skin the petals flutter from their original positioning to wherever they see fit. The stamen shift apart and a lion's head emerges from the center of them, tossing his mane and roaring. His eyes flick to Bob, then to Daisy as if gauging threats before he settles. A slight breeze catches on his mane. It makes his fur dance across the petals before he becomes inanimate.
The rush of power between them is complete. Brian sags, enough that Bob catches his shoulder to keep him upright. He's panting.
For Bob, on the other hand, the only difference is the power thrumming beneath his skin like an old friend after so long of being dampened.
"You okay?" Bob asks.
"Yeah," Brian says, but it's shaky.
"That's what happens when you get so many recharges at once." It's a rebuke, but a gentle one. "Shit's really going down this time?"
"Yeah." Brian straightens himself, though it takes effort. He buttons his shirt and zips up his jacket before he looks Bob in the eye again. "I'd suggest you either tell your boy or you start running. I don't know if this is going to make enough of a difference."
Bob sighs. "Try not to get yourself killed, huh?"
Brian grins. It's cocky, though maybe not as bright as it should have been. "Of course I won't." He offers his hand. "See you around, Bob."
Bob shakes his hand. It's clammy; Bob doesn't even realize he's pushing encouragement to heal into Brian's skin until he's already done it. "No offense, Brian, but I kind of hope we don't."
He laughs. "Fair enough." He drops down to his knees to pet Daisy. She seems to have forgotten his outburst a minute ago and accepts his attention happily. "Keep an eye on him." He stands again. "The glamor's only going to last a few more minutes."
"You should start heading back, then."
"Yeah." He sticks his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "I really am sorry I had to ask you to do this."
Bob shrugs. "I'd rather it be you than anyone else." He bends to pick up Daisy's leash again. "Come on, girl." He leads her away from Brian with no real destination in mind. He doesn't watch for it, but he can feel the moment Brian vanishes behind him. He concentrates instead on the beat of his footsteps against the pavement, trying to force the magic back below the surface, trying to regain his control. It feels a bit more like denying himself, but Bob pushes that away too. He loses himself in the sudden throng of people that he finds himself in the middle of about a block away.
By the time his legs are tired and Daisy has given up sniffing things in favor of keeping pace with Bob, he's almost back to the way he's felt for the last five years, since he first left home. He ignores the additional disappointment he seems to feel in every cell with the sudden vacancy of power.
He stops. He's on the edge of uptown. He's panting, but so is Daisy. "Come on," he tells her. "Let's go home."
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth. You can also comment there using OpenID.
comments there.
Pairings/Characters: Bob/Spencer, Brian
Word Count: 2918
Rating/Warnings: PG
Summary: Sometimes, going into hiding doesn't work out so well.
Notes: Again, meant for thingama_bob. Urban fantasy AU.
---
The door's unlocked when he sticks his key in. His muscles tense, ready for action out of reflex as he pushes open the door just before the point where the hinge creaks and listens. All he hears are kitchen noises, though, and Spencer's knife tapping a steady beat out on the cutting board.
He pushes the door all the way open. "I'm home." The dog deigns to leave Spencer's side to gallop over to him. Bob shakes his head and scratches the bristly hair at her ears. "You're a horrible watch dog." He locks the door and drops his keys on the hall table and makes his way to the kitchen, hooks his chin over Spencer's shoulder. He's got a growing pile of carrots and celery and peppers in front of him.
"Hey." He kisses Bob, it lands beside his lips. "Hungry?"
"Yeah. You left the door unlocked."
"Sorry." Bob doesn't need to see Spencer to know he's rolling his eyes. He nudges Bob with his elbow to make some space.
"How was work? You're home early."
"Got lucky with a couple of last minute cancellations. I thought I would make us some stir fry for dinner."
"Sounds good."
"How about you?" Spencer has raised his voice so that it easily follows Bob through the paper thin walls into the bedroom.
"It must be a full moon tonight, the kids were insane." He strips out of his button down and throws a hoodie on over his undershirt. He has to detour by the washing machine for Shout. "Jeanie and Toni got into a screaming match over the tambourines." He sprays the paint on the side of his shirt but he doesn't think the red will come out completely. He sighs.
"Aren't those two the ones who wrote the BFF song?"
"Yeah. And then Anatoli threw up in the middle of reading time."
"Thanks," Spencer calls wryly. His mouth sounds full.
Bob grins. "What, you can't handle a little up chuck with your Hardy Boys?"
"Just tell me you've been taking your vitamins."
Bob throws the shirt in the wash, along with the other stuff piled up. "He's not sick, he just does it to get out of reading time."
"That's dedication."
"That's obnoxious is what it is. I have to have a conference with his parents over this now." He rounds the kitchen again, so Spencer can see exactly how thrilled he is at the prospect. His dad's going to blow it off because it's an after school program, and his mom's going to call another fifty times worrying he's not well adjusted. Meanwhile he's probably going to get out of reading time because I'm sick of cleaning up after him."
"Sorry. Want to take your frustration out on some onions for me?"
"Gee, thanks." He slides into Spencer's place at the chopping board, though, while Spencer dumps cubes of steak into the frying pan.
"Oh, hey, some guy came around looking for you."
"Who?"
"He didn't say. It was a short dude with a bunch of tattoos. Said to tell you something about a dixie in the field? He said you'd know."
"What?" Bob asks sharply, and cuts his thumb for his trouble. "Shit."
"Hey, are you okay?" Spencer catches Bob's hand where he's got it shoved in his mouth, makes him let Spencer look. "Shit, that's pretty deep."
"I told you, you keep the knives too sharp."
Spencer shoots him a dirty look before he grabs the first aid kit from under the sink. "Come here."
"It's fine."
"Don't be a baby."
"I hope you don't treat all your patients like this," Bob grumbles, but something about it sounds off-kilter to himself.
"Just the ones who can't sue."
"Lucky me." But he lets Spencer clean out the cut--it's just a gash along his thumb--and is thankful for the distraction.
"You'll be fine," Spencer declares finally. "No stitches necessary."
"Oh, good," Bob says drolly, although he is glad--he wouldn't have gotten them anyway, but at least now he doesn't have Spencer trying to force him into it to look forward to. "I got blood on the vegetables."
Spencer cranes his neck to see around Bob. "Not all of them," he says. "We have another onion."
Bob wakes up when Spencer's alarm goes off at 5:30. "Hey, no," Spencer soothes. "Go back to sleep."
He's almost there with the sound of the shower through the walls, but then Daisy launches herself at the warm spot Spencer left behind. Bob buries his fingers in her fur. She licks the last of her breakfast off her stout nuzzle and sighs like she's in heaven.
He doses again until he blinks his eyes open to Spencer half dressed in the middle of the bedroom, hopping around on one foot trying to get his sock on.
Bob snorts. "Sit down before you crack open your skull."
Spencer is graceful in getting caught looking a little silly. He sits down beside Bob and leans so he can press a chaste kiss to Bob's lips even though Bob still has morning breath.
"Do you wanna go out tonight?" Spencer asks. Bob grumbles something that could be anything and Spencer chuckles. "I'll text you when you're awake." He leans over Bob to ruffle Daisy's fur; her tail whispers against the mattress but she isn't more willing to leave the bed to follow Spencer to the door.
Bob waits to hear the deadbolt click into place before he turns so he's all but curled around Daisy and tries to will himself back to sleep.
It doesn't work. He's hyper aware of every second ticking down until his own alarm will go off, he can't seem to fall back asleep.
He sighs, opens one eye to look at Daisy. She seems committed to slumber, but she's willing enough to reconsider when he says the magic words: "You wanna go for a walk?"
She prances around impatiently while he takes a leak and steps into the harness when he holds it out for her.
It's summertime. The world outside is already ablaze with it, even if the streets are more or less deserted, enough that Bob gives the dog enough slack on her leash so she can wander as she pleases without worrying about anyone giving her a weary look. She bounds across either edge of the sidewalk, dragging her nose through whatever she finds before darting off to the other side. She doesn't go far, more concerned with covering scent than distance, which is why Bob's surprised when she takes off straight for someone on the other side of the street, why her leash goes flying when she pulls.
"Hey! Daisy!" She runs into the back of the man's legs, wagging the stump of her tail enough to send her rump wiggling when he turns around and pets her.
Bob stops in his tracks, stupidly staring after him in the middle of the street. Even if it weren't for the power pouring off him in swirls from every inch of color, he'd know Brian anywhere.
"She's a good girl," Brian says. "I mean, Dixie was cuter, but for a boxer this one is pretty cute too. Are you waiting to get hit by a car or are you gonna come in out of the street?"
"What are you doing here?"
"Can't a guy track down an old friend without a game of 20 Questions? Nice hiding trick, by the way. There's not a whiff of magic anywhere around here, I didn't think it was you at first. How did you resist putting blessings up on the door? Your mother would be appalled."
"My mother has seen it. She likes our decor. What are you doing here?"
Brian shrugs. "Just came to see how you're doing. Long time no talk, all of that."
"Which is why you come by when I'm not home and leave my boyfriend cryptic fucking messages?"
"Cryptic? I thought it was pretty clear. What'd you want me to say, 'Sir Schechter of the Old Guard requests an audience with the exiled Lord of Briary'?"
"Shit, Brian." Bob glances around the street like someone could overhear, but suddenly the emptiness of the street made a lot more sense. "You magicked the place?"
"You're getting slow in your old age."
"Why are you bringing this to me? I left. I left for a reason."
Brian crouches in front of Daisy and she licks at his face vigorously. Her tongue catches on the hoops in his nostril and there's a static sliver of lightning when they clank together; she's willing to forget about it when Brian ruffles her ears. "I know," he says more to her than to Bob. "I know, okay? And I'm sorry. I'm sorry everything went to hell last time, too. I wouldn't have come if I could've avoided it."
Bob's eyes narrow. "What's going on?"
A look creases Brian's face, like indigestion and embarrassment all in one. "I need to call in a favor."
"No shit, Brian. Stop hedging and answer the question."
Brian sighs, rocks back on his heels, stands. Daisy nudges his hand hopefully one more time before giving up to sniff around the grass. "I need a charm."
He's charged to the gills already. Now that Bob's looking he can see the auras of power from each tattoo and strike of metal combining together into one bright layer of magic, like a shield. It doesn't even appear diminished by the work it's taking to keep their meeting private. "What kind of a charm?"
Brian raises an eyebrow; the hoop piercing his skin there sizzles. "What kind do you think?"
Anger wells up in Bob's chest when he realizes what Brian's asking him for. "Brian--"
"Bad things are coming, Bob. We're respecting your choice to stay out of it--"
"The hell you are! You're asking me to build the one charm they'll know is mine. That's bringing the fight to my fucking doorstep! I have a life out here, Brian. Do you get that? I have a life completely separate from all of that. We're talking about starting a family. Spencer doesn't even know about it!"
"What were you going to do when your kids turned out like you? 'Surprise, honey!'?"
"We're talking about adopting, dumbass."
"Oh. Hey, that's a good one."
"Yeah, it fucking is. Do you realize what you're asking me to risk?"
"Yes!" he shouts. The outburst surprises Bob, makes him forget whatever response he would have for it. Daisy raises her head from the tree she had her nose buried against, watching them attentively. "Yes, I fucking do." Brian's voice is quiet, hoarse. His shoulders are slumped as if in defeat. "You don't know what it's been like since you left, Bob. Everything's gone to hell in a hand basket. We are so goddamned close to losing it all. They wanted to come out here and make you come back to the fight. They still might." A chill runs through Bob's spine. He knows what Brian means by making him come back. "This is only a temporary reprieve, if we can't get shit going for our side again."
Daisy trots up to his side and noses his hand. Bob scratches her ears. He doesn't know if it's his imagination or if she really seems to be watching Brian more wearily now. He sighs. "Do you have the stuff?"
Brian smiles, but there's something sad in it. He opens his leather jacket to take a vial and a talisman from an inner pocket. He closes the distance between them to place them in Bob's outstretched hand. The only charge coming from it is the residual from Brian's charms, like body heat fading away. The items are blank slates calling to the power Bob has kept carefully buried. He lets it climb to the surface; it charges forward like a dog let off leash and ready for the hunt.
Bob doesn't know when he closed his eyes, but when he opens them again Brian's shirt is unbuttoned down to his naval. His other tattoos stand out vibrantly against the white of his shirt. Bob pops the cork of the vial with a flick of his thumb and douses the liquid against the bare skin opposite Brian's heart. It's water from the purest spring, completely inert, a blank slate perfect for accepting new magic.
The talisman is a rose in full bloom carved from silver. It's the finest craftsmanship he's seen from Trudueau's hand yet, befitting both the gravity of the power awaiting it and the enormity of Bob essentially stepping back into the fight he abandoned. Bob traces the whorls of the petals with the pad of his thumb, concentrating the power that wants to rush into it like a river after a dam breaks until he can release it in a controlled stream. As he watches the silver begins to change color. It starts off a weak pink but grows strength with every pass of his thumb, until the petals become the deep red of heart's blood.
Bob holds it up to show Brian, as if he's expecting him to change his mind. Brian hasn't looked away from the talisman though. Bob places it just above Brian's skin -- then Brian looks at him; there's a charge of excitement in his expression, just like always. The water calls to the metal like a magnet, but Bob holds it steady as if he's giving Brian an opportunity to back out.
Brian doesn't. Bob isn't surprised. He lets the talisman go.
It slaps against Brian's skin and stays there for a minute. Brian gasps as the magic and water start reacting. There's a moment where Brian's chest is almost, almost insubstantial against the side of Bob's hand, when flesh can't decide if it's going to withstand power or if this will be the time it collapses. Bob flattens his palm against Brian's heart, encouraging his body to remain corporeal. It's all his skin needs to hold steady. Brian's head falls back with his mouth hanging open as the talisman begins to flatten and become part of his flesh. The auras of the other charms shift and separate to make room for this new addition, one that overwhelms them all.
As they become part of his skin the petals flutter from their original positioning to wherever they see fit. The stamen shift apart and a lion's head emerges from the center of them, tossing his mane and roaring. His eyes flick to Bob, then to Daisy as if gauging threats before he settles. A slight breeze catches on his mane. It makes his fur dance across the petals before he becomes inanimate.
The rush of power between them is complete. Brian sags, enough that Bob catches his shoulder to keep him upright. He's panting.
For Bob, on the other hand, the only difference is the power thrumming beneath his skin like an old friend after so long of being dampened.
"You okay?" Bob asks.
"Yeah," Brian says, but it's shaky.
"That's what happens when you get so many recharges at once." It's a rebuke, but a gentle one. "Shit's really going down this time?"
"Yeah." Brian straightens himself, though it takes effort. He buttons his shirt and zips up his jacket before he looks Bob in the eye again. "I'd suggest you either tell your boy or you start running. I don't know if this is going to make enough of a difference."
Bob sighs. "Try not to get yourself killed, huh?"
Brian grins. It's cocky, though maybe not as bright as it should have been. "Of course I won't." He offers his hand. "See you around, Bob."
Bob shakes his hand. It's clammy; Bob doesn't even realize he's pushing encouragement to heal into Brian's skin until he's already done it. "No offense, Brian, but I kind of hope we don't."
He laughs. "Fair enough." He drops down to his knees to pet Daisy. She seems to have forgotten his outburst a minute ago and accepts his attention happily. "Keep an eye on him." He stands again. "The glamor's only going to last a few more minutes."
"You should start heading back, then."
"Yeah." He sticks his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "I really am sorry I had to ask you to do this."
Bob shrugs. "I'd rather it be you than anyone else." He bends to pick up Daisy's leash again. "Come on, girl." He leads her away from Brian with no real destination in mind. He doesn't watch for it, but he can feel the moment Brian vanishes behind him. He concentrates instead on the beat of his footsteps against the pavement, trying to force the magic back below the surface, trying to regain his control. It feels a bit more like denying himself, but Bob pushes that away too. He loses himself in the sudden throng of people that he finds himself in the middle of about a block away.
By the time his legs are tired and Daisy has given up sniffing things in favor of keeping pace with Bob, he's almost back to the way he's felt for the last five years, since he first left home. He ignores the additional disappointment he seems to feel in every cell with the sudden vacancy of power.
He stops. He's on the edge of uptown. He's panting, but so is Daisy. "Come on," he tells her. "Let's go home."
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth. You can also comment there using OpenID.
comments there.