The Dresden Files - Fic: Why?
Title: Why?
Author: Lara Beckinsale
Beta: the worderful strikske <3u
Fandom: The Dresden Files (bookverse)
Characters: Harry Dresden, Karrin Murphy
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All belongs to Jim Butcher, I’m just playing around.
Summary: Harry watches over a friend.
Spoilers: Proven Guilty
When we are kids, we start our lives full of curiosity for the new world that we are discovering every day. We're always suffocating our parents with questions such as: what is a torpedo? how can a bird fly? where do babies come from? why is the sky blue? And like those just about a million more. Most of those question had easy answers. If only things would stay that way. But the more we grow, the more complex the questions become and we start to realize that we're not going to get easy answers anymore, if any at all.
One of the more dreadful questions is always "why?" It's actually a personal favorite. There's been many times in my life when I've used it. Why was I born to be a wizard? Why not with cool super powers like, let's say, wolverine? Why did my mother die before I even met her? Why did my father die too soon? Why did Justin adopted me? Why did I have to become an orphan two times? Why didn't the council killed me when they had a chance? Why can't magic and a water heater go hand in hand? Why does crappy stuff always happen when I'm around? Why am I the one always putting my friends in danger? Why do I sometimes feel that my life will never stop sucking?
Tonight I had been out with Murph chasing bad guys. Nothing major. Just the usual weirdness of the week. Murphy had called me in for a consultation involving a little troll problem. I don't believe she actually needed my help, she knows how to handle this kind of stuff by now and she probably had to pull some strings to do it, because she didn't have the freedom to do that after her demotion. But I think she knew that I've been a bit short of income this month and wanted to give me a hand. She's good people. Which is why I feel like crap right now.
She had been hurt. I know she's a cop and a very good one at that, and getting hurt in part of the job description. She knows it and she's never had a problem with that. She's tough as nails. But call me a chauvinist pig, and she often does. I don't like to see women hurt. Specially the women in my life. And to be a bit more accurate, and judging from this rage inside me right now, her. Specially because it was me who did it. It was a stupid mistake, I made the wrong move, she got caught in the blast along with the bad guy and got a nasty hit in the head.
After arguing for a couple of minutes, she let me take her to the hospital. Luckly she was not concussed, but she got a nasty headache. She made it clear to the doctor that she was not going to stay overnight for observation, so he sent her home to rest with some medication. I voluntereed to keep an eye on her just in case she should suddendly start to feel worse. She almost killed me right then and there.
She had been the one driving that night, the blue bittle was in the shop for the second time this month, it always got more stubborn during winter. But she let me use her car to drive her to the hospital and back to her house again. When we arrived at her place, it started snowing, a lot, and soon it became a very heavy storm. So, as much as I know she would have tried to convince me to leave because she could take care of herself, I couln't. I was stuck there. It was the universe's fault.
So between angry mumbles and annoyed glares I made sure she took the pain killers the doctor ordered and tried to help getting her into bed. I say tried because I didn't do much. She changed out of ther shoes and clothes herself and snuggled between the covers alone too, but she let me get her a glass of water. She seemed to be doing just fine, but she was my friend and I should take care of her.
I'm monitoring her closely, like the doctor said was the responsable thing to do, just in case. And I'm doing it from the foot of her bed while she sleeps soundly. I'm just sitting and watching, doing nothing more but just contemplating her soft breathing and the little twitches she makes while she dreams. You know, ever since I've known her I thought of her as cute. A cute little thing I could just put in my pocket. But, boy was I wrong. Right now I can look at her intently, without the fear of her looking back and I see her calm and relaxed and I know she's more than just cute. Not that there's anything wrong with cute, don't get me wrong, but she's attractive, really attractive.
The funny thing is she pretends she doesn't know it, but I bet she does. That's why she never wears that much make up or goes to the salon and get fancy haircuts, like many women do. Why she wears functional clothes instead of only trendy, confortable shoes instead of fashionable. Yes, it is because she's busy and her job is hard and she has to keep hard hours and run after bag guys all day, which I imagine can not be fun to do in high heals. But she's Murphy, she's tough and smart and the kind of strong, independent woman that can really do it all if she wants to. She doesn't though and I think I know the reason. I admit it, us guys can be assholes. And she knows that If she goes out to work all dolled up the guys would give her hell and she's got enough of that as it is. So a practical hairdo like a ponytail and some lipstick on the lips I guess does it for her. Still, when you stop and take a good look at her, as much as she wants to be one of the boys she stands out like beautiful.
She's got this golden blond hair that looks to be so very soft and that curls at the ends, eyes of a clear blue that I often wish I could meet for more than a couple of seconds, pale flawless skin. And no, she doesn't have the long legs of a supermodel but she's got a strong built with just the right amount of curves. That time she was wearing that yellow floral dress I noticed she had an almost perfect hourglass figure. She's built the opposite of me, small and compact and, don't tell her I said this, in general she's utterly feminine. And she looks gorgeous lying in a bed, her eyes closed, calm and relaxed while I watch her and I think all this, with her not knowing how much such a simple situation is affecting me. It's getting to me enough that I've gotten all philosophycal and asking myself many questions I've tried my hardest not to think about. Things like: How come I never noticed before how beautiful she was? Why did I never ask her out? Why didn't I stop her from going to Hawaii? Why did I let her turn me down so easily after just one try? Because I offer her once something more than friendship. She turned it down.
I said I was ok with it at the time and she had been right about a lot of things. But I think today is proving that I'm really not. Or why else would I be sitting here wondering what if I wasn't what I am? What if things were different? What if I was different? Human, just like her. Would we have a chance then? And why...? Why suddenly I wanted it so much? Why now, I would give almost anything to curl up with her under the sheets and sleep calm and relaxed like she does and in her arms? Why has nothing ever seemed more fantastic than that?
I'm afraid of the answer.
The End
Author: Lara Beckinsale
Beta: the worderful strikske <3u
Fandom: The Dresden Files (bookverse)
Characters: Harry Dresden, Karrin Murphy
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All belongs to Jim Butcher, I’m just playing around.
Summary: Harry watches over a friend.
Spoilers: Proven Guilty
When we are kids, we start our lives full of curiosity for the new world that we are discovering every day. We're always suffocating our parents with questions such as: what is a torpedo? how can a bird fly? where do babies come from? why is the sky blue? And like those just about a million more. Most of those question had easy answers. If only things would stay that way. But the more we grow, the more complex the questions become and we start to realize that we're not going to get easy answers anymore, if any at all.
One of the more dreadful questions is always "why?" It's actually a personal favorite. There's been many times in my life when I've used it. Why was I born to be a wizard? Why not with cool super powers like, let's say, wolverine? Why did my mother die before I even met her? Why did my father die too soon? Why did Justin adopted me? Why did I have to become an orphan two times? Why didn't the council killed me when they had a chance? Why can't magic and a water heater go hand in hand? Why does crappy stuff always happen when I'm around? Why am I the one always putting my friends in danger? Why do I sometimes feel that my life will never stop sucking?
Tonight I had been out with Murph chasing bad guys. Nothing major. Just the usual weirdness of the week. Murphy had called me in for a consultation involving a little troll problem. I don't believe she actually needed my help, she knows how to handle this kind of stuff by now and she probably had to pull some strings to do it, because she didn't have the freedom to do that after her demotion. But I think she knew that I've been a bit short of income this month and wanted to give me a hand. She's good people. Which is why I feel like crap right now.
She had been hurt. I know she's a cop and a very good one at that, and getting hurt in part of the job description. She knows it and she's never had a problem with that. She's tough as nails. But call me a chauvinist pig, and she often does. I don't like to see women hurt. Specially the women in my life. And to be a bit more accurate, and judging from this rage inside me right now, her. Specially because it was me who did it. It was a stupid mistake, I made the wrong move, she got caught in the blast along with the bad guy and got a nasty hit in the head.
After arguing for a couple of minutes, she let me take her to the hospital. Luckly she was not concussed, but she got a nasty headache. She made it clear to the doctor that she was not going to stay overnight for observation, so he sent her home to rest with some medication. I voluntereed to keep an eye on her just in case she should suddendly start to feel worse. She almost killed me right then and there.
She had been the one driving that night, the blue bittle was in the shop for the second time this month, it always got more stubborn during winter. But she let me use her car to drive her to the hospital and back to her house again. When we arrived at her place, it started snowing, a lot, and soon it became a very heavy storm. So, as much as I know she would have tried to convince me to leave because she could take care of herself, I couln't. I was stuck there. It was the universe's fault.
So between angry mumbles and annoyed glares I made sure she took the pain killers the doctor ordered and tried to help getting her into bed. I say tried because I didn't do much. She changed out of ther shoes and clothes herself and snuggled between the covers alone too, but she let me get her a glass of water. She seemed to be doing just fine, but she was my friend and I should take care of her.
I'm monitoring her closely, like the doctor said was the responsable thing to do, just in case. And I'm doing it from the foot of her bed while she sleeps soundly. I'm just sitting and watching, doing nothing more but just contemplating her soft breathing and the little twitches she makes while she dreams. You know, ever since I've known her I thought of her as cute. A cute little thing I could just put in my pocket. But, boy was I wrong. Right now I can look at her intently, without the fear of her looking back and I see her calm and relaxed and I know she's more than just cute. Not that there's anything wrong with cute, don't get me wrong, but she's attractive, really attractive.
The funny thing is she pretends she doesn't know it, but I bet she does. That's why she never wears that much make up or goes to the salon and get fancy haircuts, like many women do. Why she wears functional clothes instead of only trendy, confortable shoes instead of fashionable. Yes, it is because she's busy and her job is hard and she has to keep hard hours and run after bag guys all day, which I imagine can not be fun to do in high heals. But she's Murphy, she's tough and smart and the kind of strong, independent woman that can really do it all if she wants to. She doesn't though and I think I know the reason. I admit it, us guys can be assholes. And she knows that If she goes out to work all dolled up the guys would give her hell and she's got enough of that as it is. So a practical hairdo like a ponytail and some lipstick on the lips I guess does it for her. Still, when you stop and take a good look at her, as much as she wants to be one of the boys she stands out like beautiful.
She's got this golden blond hair that looks to be so very soft and that curls at the ends, eyes of a clear blue that I often wish I could meet for more than a couple of seconds, pale flawless skin. And no, she doesn't have the long legs of a supermodel but she's got a strong built with just the right amount of curves. That time she was wearing that yellow floral dress I noticed she had an almost perfect hourglass figure. She's built the opposite of me, small and compact and, don't tell her I said this, in general she's utterly feminine. And she looks gorgeous lying in a bed, her eyes closed, calm and relaxed while I watch her and I think all this, with her not knowing how much such a simple situation is affecting me. It's getting to me enough that I've gotten all philosophycal and asking myself many questions I've tried my hardest not to think about. Things like: How come I never noticed before how beautiful she was? Why did I never ask her out? Why didn't I stop her from going to Hawaii? Why did I let her turn me down so easily after just one try? Because I offer her once something more than friendship. She turned it down.
I said I was ok with it at the time and she had been right about a lot of things. But I think today is proving that I'm really not. Or why else would I be sitting here wondering what if I wasn't what I am? What if things were different? What if I was different? Human, just like her. Would we have a chance then? And why...? Why suddenly I wanted it so much? Why now, I would give almost anything to curl up with her under the sheets and sleep calm and relaxed like she does and in her arms? Why has nothing ever seemed more fantastic than that?
I'm afraid of the answer.
The End