Dresden Files (tv show) (Murphy/Bob)
Title: Sleight of Hand
Author/Artist: queenoftheskies
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: orgasm and mention of anatomy, but no physical sex
Word count: 1,746
Summary: Murphy meets Bob for the first time.
Prompt: #9. Dresden Files (tv show), Murphy/Bob: Orgasm without being touched - "words of love and words of leisure/words of poisoned darts of pleasure"
A/N: I'm very sorry I'm late posting this.
Sleight of Hand
Murphy peered through the decrepit store front with a frown. There was usually some sign of Harry, at least during business hours, but today, his office seemed strangely deserted.
“Harry?” she called, shoving the door open a crack.
The eerie silence that pervaded the office drew her in, one hand resting on the handle of the revolver hidden in her shoulder holster. Harry made it no secret that he had lots of enemies, from mobsters to the supernatural to people who just plain didn’t like him. Not that he’d ever seemed to have trouble taking care of himself, but Murphy wasn’t sure she bought all that mumbo jumbo about magic and the supernatural anyway. More than likely, it was just plain dumb luck that kept the self-proclaimed wizard safe and gave him the ability to help her solve cases others couldn’t crack.
Though the office was empty, the chair pushed beneath the desk as if Harry hadn’t even sat there that morning, nothing appeared amiss. Everything was relatively neat...as neat as it got when the office belonged to a man. Nothing had been ransacked. Nothing even appeared out of place.
“Harry?” she repeated. Maybe he’s just gone to the john.
Her voice echoed as she passed through the office and into the back of the stone-walled building. She had to admit that it was probably cozier with Harry there than it had been when filled by its former owners.
The air grew cold around her, so heavy she had trouble breathing. With a shudder, she whirled at the touch of fingers on the back of her neck. The hall was empty except for a stream of sunlight that spilled in from the storefront windows. Dust motes danced in the pale light; shadowy memories struggled at the corners of her consciousness.
She didn’t understand why visiting Harry’s office home had that effect on her, but sometimes, she could almost remember something she thought was important. Something that involved Harry. Something that involved the supernatural.
With a shudder she turned back down the hall to the sound of footsteps, male from the weight with which they hit the floor. There was no one there, and yet, a strange flickering light emanated from a room further down the hall.
Gun drawn, she crept toward the light, only to find Harry’s living room empty when she arrived. “Harry?” she called. “This isn’t funny.” Shoving her gun back in her shoulder holster, she snarled, “I don’t have time for jokes.”
The suite of rooms remained silent except for a stirring of breeze that reminded Murphy faintly of someone--or something--breathing.
“Maybe another time,” she called, taking one step, then another, backwards down the hall. If he thought this was funny, he wasn’t the man she thought she knew. One thing was for sure. He wouldn’t be getting any more money from the city of Chicago. Not if she had anything to say about it.
When she was certain there was no one to follow her back toward the front, she turned to leave. A tall man in elegant dress appeared center hall and before Murphy could stop, she’d walked straight through him.
The chill captured her breath; his presence set her heart to racing. He was there. And then he wasn’t, leaving her to worry whether it was another of Harry’s sleight of hand tricks or whether there was more to him that met the eye.
I should get out of here. The way to Harry’s office seemed clear and yet, there was something about the unexplained man. Maybe I just didn’t hear him come down the hall. Maybe he broke in. Except that the door was unlocked. I can’t leave until Harry gets back or until I make sure that man is gone.
He could only have escaped into the living room. He hadn’t come past her. Not since she’d... I couldn’t have walked through him. She rubbed her head, which had begun to throb. Fingering the bottle of pills in her coat pocket, she took comfort in the fact that they were there if she needed them, if things at Harry’s got out of control and were more than she could take. That’s impossible.
He was there, in the living room, sitting on the couch waiting for her. He smiled when she entered and, in spite of herself, Murphy smiled back. There was something charming about him, about the way he steepled his hands in front of his face and watched while she entered.
“Are...you a friend of Harry’s?” she asked. He seemed too comfortable there, too at home, to be a stranger.
“You might say I’m Harry’s roommate,” he replied in a voice tinged with an accent that spread warmth through her body.
“I didn’t know Harry had a roommate.” She’d never seen him before and Harry had never mentioned him. “Is this a recent development?”
“Hardly, Lieutenant.” He sat back, his hands dropped into his lap as his smile deepened into something more urbane. “I’ve been watching you for some time now.” His eyes softened. “But...” His shoulders rose and fell. “I haven’t been able to speak with you as long as Harry was here.”
She grew suspicious again, demanding, “Have you done something to Harry?” with a scowl.
He spread his hands, the gesture innocent and sincere. “Harry is merely out on some personal errands. He’ll be back shortly.” Leaning forward suddenly, he said in a voice scarcely above a whisper, “We don’t have any time to lose.”
“Time to lose?” He’d made no move to overpower her, no move to stop her. It would be easy to turn around and walk away. But, she felt drawn to him, attracted to him in ways she couldn’t begin to explain.
He gestured toward the chair across from the sofa. “Why don’t you join me...Connie, isn’t it?”
It made sense that he’d know her name if he really did live with Harry, but she was still uncomfortable that Harry hadn’t mentioned him before, so she hung back, unable to decide what his game was.
“Please.” He nodded toward the chair.
And she found her will to resist slipping away. Not consciously. She could still consciously realize she might be placing her life in jeopardy by not fleeing while she had the chance. But, her body had a will of its own and it wasn’t until she sat across from him that she realized when the light hit him at the right angle, he was transparent.
“Are you a...a...”
“Ghost.” The smile remained, but the look in his eyes grew haunted.
“I was going to say hologram.”
He wagged his head. “Mortals of this era are lacking in a certain belief that makes being a ghost no fun. Still...” He didn’t try to disguise his interest in her, his eyes darting up, then down, as he studied her. “I think you’ll do. It’s not like you have to believe. It just makes it all...more fun.”
There was something about the low chuckle that set Murphy’s blood aflame, fanned the growing desire deep in her gut. “Get on with what?”
“Sit back,” he advised. “Relax.” Folding his hands over his chest, he leaned back into the worn cushions of the sofa. “Enjoy.” Again the low chuckle. “I know I’m going to.”
Before Murphy could question, before she could even wonder what was happening, the man--ghost, whatever he was--began a low chant in a language she didn’t pretend to understand. It sounded faintly like a Catholic liturgy. It wasn’t until he switched to English that she began to worry, but by that time, it was too late.
A soft golden glow filled the air between them, growing until it encompassed them both. A tingle settled over her skin, beneath her clothes, as if fingers had brushed across her without removing her clothes. She twitched, shivered, laughed when the tingle turned ticklish.
“What are you doing to me?” she demanded, a flush creeping into her cheeks as the tingle spread across her chest and down into her belly.
The chant continued, “Words of love and words of leisure, words of poisoned darts of pleasure.”
Energy charged across her body, stirring her clothes, setting flame to nerve endings. A flush crept over her as her nipples hardened and the tingling settled between her legs.
A moan slipped free of the ghost’s lips. His eyes fluttered beneath closed lids. It was easy to see his reaction to the spell from the bulge in his trousers. His long, slender fingers worked the air, but Murphy could feel them as if they were touching her.
Goosebumps rose on her arms and legs. A thrill ran through her nipples, echoed in her groin, and warmth spread up through the pit of her stomach. Muscles tensed and then knotted at the gentle insistent touch on her clit. Instinctively, she spread her legs. Her fingers dug into the arms of the chair.
They came together, the orgasm rough and unbridled, spreading through Murphy with an intensity that wrung a cry from her lips. The ghost grunted, his moan long and sustained, while his body trembled like a leaf in the wind.
Distantly, Murphy heard the jingle of the bell at Harry’s front door. Some part of her brain realized she was rescued while another part protested she wasn’t finished yet.
“W...what did you say your name was?” she demanded when the ghost became insubstantial.
Bob. The name echoed in her mind, brought a smile to her lips.
“What are you doing Thursday night?” She happened to know for a fact that Harry wouldn’t be home on Thursday.
I’ll be waiting, he promised. Until then, my lady.
And he was gone, leaving only a breath of decaying roses and sex behind.
“Murphy?”
Her head dropped back until she could see Harry standing in the hallway. “What are you doing upside down?”
“What are you doing...” His eyes darted back and forth suspiciously. “You didn’t...see anybody...did you?”
“I see you, Harry.”
“No, no.” The wizard shook his head. “I mean did you see...was there anyone...” He stopped, clearly flustered.
Murphy sat up, stretched until her shoulder popped, then pushed herself to her feet. “Spit it out, Dresden.”
“Nothing.” His head wagged again. “It’s...nothing.” He frowned, sniffed the air. “You okay?”
Murphy couldn’t help the smile. It slipped out before she could stop it. “Never better, Harry. How about you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Author/Artist: queenoftheskies
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: orgasm and mention of anatomy, but no physical sex
Word count: 1,746
Summary: Murphy meets Bob for the first time.
Prompt: #9. Dresden Files (tv show), Murphy/Bob: Orgasm without being touched - "words of love and words of leisure/words of poisoned darts of pleasure"
A/N: I'm very sorry I'm late posting this.
Sleight of Hand
Murphy peered through the decrepit store front with a frown. There was usually some sign of Harry, at least during business hours, but today, his office seemed strangely deserted.
“Harry?” she called, shoving the door open a crack.
The eerie silence that pervaded the office drew her in, one hand resting on the handle of the revolver hidden in her shoulder holster. Harry made it no secret that he had lots of enemies, from mobsters to the supernatural to people who just plain didn’t like him. Not that he’d ever seemed to have trouble taking care of himself, but Murphy wasn’t sure she bought all that mumbo jumbo about magic and the supernatural anyway. More than likely, it was just plain dumb luck that kept the self-proclaimed wizard safe and gave him the ability to help her solve cases others couldn’t crack.
Though the office was empty, the chair pushed beneath the desk as if Harry hadn’t even sat there that morning, nothing appeared amiss. Everything was relatively neat...as neat as it got when the office belonged to a man. Nothing had been ransacked. Nothing even appeared out of place.
“Harry?” she repeated. Maybe he’s just gone to the john.
Her voice echoed as she passed through the office and into the back of the stone-walled building. She had to admit that it was probably cozier with Harry there than it had been when filled by its former owners.
The air grew cold around her, so heavy she had trouble breathing. With a shudder, she whirled at the touch of fingers on the back of her neck. The hall was empty except for a stream of sunlight that spilled in from the storefront windows. Dust motes danced in the pale light; shadowy memories struggled at the corners of her consciousness.
She didn’t understand why visiting Harry’s office home had that effect on her, but sometimes, she could almost remember something she thought was important. Something that involved Harry. Something that involved the supernatural.
With a shudder she turned back down the hall to the sound of footsteps, male from the weight with which they hit the floor. There was no one there, and yet, a strange flickering light emanated from a room further down the hall.
Gun drawn, she crept toward the light, only to find Harry’s living room empty when she arrived. “Harry?” she called. “This isn’t funny.” Shoving her gun back in her shoulder holster, she snarled, “I don’t have time for jokes.”
The suite of rooms remained silent except for a stirring of breeze that reminded Murphy faintly of someone--or something--breathing.
“Maybe another time,” she called, taking one step, then another, backwards down the hall. If he thought this was funny, he wasn’t the man she thought she knew. One thing was for sure. He wouldn’t be getting any more money from the city of Chicago. Not if she had anything to say about it.
When she was certain there was no one to follow her back toward the front, she turned to leave. A tall man in elegant dress appeared center hall and before Murphy could stop, she’d walked straight through him.
The chill captured her breath; his presence set her heart to racing. He was there. And then he wasn’t, leaving her to worry whether it was another of Harry’s sleight of hand tricks or whether there was more to him that met the eye.
I should get out of here. The way to Harry’s office seemed clear and yet, there was something about the unexplained man. Maybe I just didn’t hear him come down the hall. Maybe he broke in. Except that the door was unlocked. I can’t leave until Harry gets back or until I make sure that man is gone.
He could only have escaped into the living room. He hadn’t come past her. Not since she’d... I couldn’t have walked through him. She rubbed her head, which had begun to throb. Fingering the bottle of pills in her coat pocket, she took comfort in the fact that they were there if she needed them, if things at Harry’s got out of control and were more than she could take. That’s impossible.
He was there, in the living room, sitting on the couch waiting for her. He smiled when she entered and, in spite of herself, Murphy smiled back. There was something charming about him, about the way he steepled his hands in front of his face and watched while she entered.
“Are...you a friend of Harry’s?” she asked. He seemed too comfortable there, too at home, to be a stranger.
“You might say I’m Harry’s roommate,” he replied in a voice tinged with an accent that spread warmth through her body.
“I didn’t know Harry had a roommate.” She’d never seen him before and Harry had never mentioned him. “Is this a recent development?”
“Hardly, Lieutenant.” He sat back, his hands dropped into his lap as his smile deepened into something more urbane. “I’ve been watching you for some time now.” His eyes softened. “But...” His shoulders rose and fell. “I haven’t been able to speak with you as long as Harry was here.”
She grew suspicious again, demanding, “Have you done something to Harry?” with a scowl.
He spread his hands, the gesture innocent and sincere. “Harry is merely out on some personal errands. He’ll be back shortly.” Leaning forward suddenly, he said in a voice scarcely above a whisper, “We don’t have any time to lose.”
“Time to lose?” He’d made no move to overpower her, no move to stop her. It would be easy to turn around and walk away. But, she felt drawn to him, attracted to him in ways she couldn’t begin to explain.
He gestured toward the chair across from the sofa. “Why don’t you join me...Connie, isn’t it?”
It made sense that he’d know her name if he really did live with Harry, but she was still uncomfortable that Harry hadn’t mentioned him before, so she hung back, unable to decide what his game was.
“Please.” He nodded toward the chair.
And she found her will to resist slipping away. Not consciously. She could still consciously realize she might be placing her life in jeopardy by not fleeing while she had the chance. But, her body had a will of its own and it wasn’t until she sat across from him that she realized when the light hit him at the right angle, he was transparent.
“Are you a...a...”
“Ghost.” The smile remained, but the look in his eyes grew haunted.
“I was going to say hologram.”
He wagged his head. “Mortals of this era are lacking in a certain belief that makes being a ghost no fun. Still...” He didn’t try to disguise his interest in her, his eyes darting up, then down, as he studied her. “I think you’ll do. It’s not like you have to believe. It just makes it all...more fun.”
There was something about the low chuckle that set Murphy’s blood aflame, fanned the growing desire deep in her gut. “Get on with what?”
“Sit back,” he advised. “Relax.” Folding his hands over his chest, he leaned back into the worn cushions of the sofa. “Enjoy.” Again the low chuckle. “I know I’m going to.”
Before Murphy could question, before she could even wonder what was happening, the man--ghost, whatever he was--began a low chant in a language she didn’t pretend to understand. It sounded faintly like a Catholic liturgy. It wasn’t until he switched to English that she began to worry, but by that time, it was too late.
A soft golden glow filled the air between them, growing until it encompassed them both. A tingle settled over her skin, beneath her clothes, as if fingers had brushed across her without removing her clothes. She twitched, shivered, laughed when the tingle turned ticklish.
“What are you doing to me?” she demanded, a flush creeping into her cheeks as the tingle spread across her chest and down into her belly.
The chant continued, “Words of love and words of leisure, words of poisoned darts of pleasure.”
Energy charged across her body, stirring her clothes, setting flame to nerve endings. A flush crept over her as her nipples hardened and the tingling settled between her legs.
A moan slipped free of the ghost’s lips. His eyes fluttered beneath closed lids. It was easy to see his reaction to the spell from the bulge in his trousers. His long, slender fingers worked the air, but Murphy could feel them as if they were touching her.
Goosebumps rose on her arms and legs. A thrill ran through her nipples, echoed in her groin, and warmth spread up through the pit of her stomach. Muscles tensed and then knotted at the gentle insistent touch on her clit. Instinctively, she spread her legs. Her fingers dug into the arms of the chair.
They came together, the orgasm rough and unbridled, spreading through Murphy with an intensity that wrung a cry from her lips. The ghost grunted, his moan long and sustained, while his body trembled like a leaf in the wind.
Distantly, Murphy heard the jingle of the bell at Harry’s front door. Some part of her brain realized she was rescued while another part protested she wasn’t finished yet.
“W...what did you say your name was?” she demanded when the ghost became insubstantial.
Bob. The name echoed in her mind, brought a smile to her lips.
“What are you doing Thursday night?” She happened to know for a fact that Harry wouldn’t be home on Thursday.
I’ll be waiting, he promised. Until then, my lady.
And he was gone, leaving only a breath of decaying roses and sex behind.
“Murphy?”
Her head dropped back until she could see Harry standing in the hallway. “What are you doing upside down?”
“What are you doing...” His eyes darted back and forth suspiciously. “You didn’t...see anybody...did you?”
“I see you, Harry.”
“No, no.” The wizard shook his head. “I mean did you see...was there anyone...” He stopped, clearly flustered.
Murphy sat up, stretched until her shoulder popped, then pushed herself to her feet. “Spit it out, Dresden.”
“Nothing.” His head wagged again. “It’s...nothing.” He frowned, sniffed the air. “You okay?”
Murphy couldn’t help the smile. It slipped out before she could stop it. “Never better, Harry. How about you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”