For fujurpreux: Two Can Keep a Secret (When One of Them is Dead)
Title: Two Can Keep a Secret (When One of Them is Dead)
Author: beachkid
TV or Book verse: TV
Characters: Bob, Anna Murphy, Harry Dresden, Connie Murphy
Recipient: fujurpreux
Assignment: Bob+Anna Murphy. Something about a teddy bear. Includes: "I must find the king of the Land of Tomorrow."
Word Count: 1 700
Spoilers: Assumes knowledge of the show, but nothing in particular. Takes place about a year and a half after Second City.
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Only the fic is mine.
Notes: Many thanks to all who beta-ed or were otherwise assaulted with the work in progress.
"I know you're there," Anna says. She's staring at the laptop screen and the moving picture is reflected back on her face, round cheeks and small mouth dancing with light and colour. "You've been there all night. I heard you and Harry talking. I've heard you and Harry talking lots of times. And he kept looking at you, during supper."
She glances over at Harry where he's dozing on the couch, long legs stretched out before him, tipped sideways over an armrest, his jaw pressed into his bent elbow and his body slowly sliding down as gravity and deeper sleep conspire against him. He'd made it through the opening credits, but not much further, and Anna had slipped from her seat once his eyes had shut, leaning back against the couch and moving the computer to her lap. "I don't think he keeps secrets very well."
She reaches for the bag of candy she'd brought with her, and pulls back a handful of small, brightly-coloured things, biting the head off of one and stretching another into a long, sugar-coated thread of jelly before popping them into her mouth. They clash terribly with the stain of bright orange above her top lip, left behind by her overly-sugared drink hours before. "You must be better at it. I'm not going to tell, you know. I'm good at secrets. I'm almost eleven. I know lots of them."
On the laptop screen a young boy lunges over a ship rail, and is caught short by a large man with horrible sense in dress. "I must find the king of the Land of Tomorrow!" the boy shouts, and Anna starts, turning down the volume and shoots a quick, guilty look at Harry. Harry frowns in his sleep, the hand he isn't laying on coming up to rub at his face, but he sighs and settles, and Anna looks away.
"My mom falls asleep when we're watching movies, too," she says. "She pretends she doesn't, but I totally know. She's even fallen asleep during this one. I've seen it lots of times. It's my favourite. The girl is the king, but everyone's looking for a boy. Mom snores sometimes. But only when she's really tired. She'd kill me if she found out I told you that. But she doesn't know about you, right? She would have told me. Especially when I was coming over. She always says the same things, every time. To be polite, and say thank you, and not to touch Harry's stuff. I've been coming here for almost a year; she doesn't need to tell me, over and over again. But she does. So she would have told me, as soon as she knew. She's not very good at keeping secrets, either."
A car passes by on the street outside, and the headlights shine through the room. Anna squints and Harry grunts, and the car drives on. The night sky is a deep, dark summer black that glows with blue from the inside, speckled with the promise of stars that can't quite been seen through the lights of the city. Harry's place is still rich with heat from the day, hints of cement and sun and humidity, and Anna's curls float and frizz about her face.
She's wearing a bright purple t-shirt with a picture of an anthropomorphic mouse on the front, and the word 'Disneyland' stitched across it in a rainbow of thread. Anna's nose is speckled with freckles in much the same way as Harry's is, hidden gold in the deeper, tanned hue of his skin, and Bob finds himself thinking unexpectedly of the previous month, the drive to an out-of-town job, his skull strapped into the passenger seat of Harry's jeep, and the July sun almost blinding on the highway before them and the fields to the sides. Harry's eyelashes had caught the light, and his skin had burnt.
"Sometimes secrets aren't such a bad thing," Anna says. "It depends." She gives a yawn, hand over her mouth, and on the screen the same boy from before is running away from a tall woman dressed all in black. He's clutching a teddy bear by one arm, and she's holding out a birdhouse. "Like, last December? My little brother - my dad and step-mom's son, my half-brother - Richard totally found some of our Christmas presents. From Santa. Not just presents from our parents or anything. I told my step-mom, and she had to get a bunch of new stuff, but Richard never figured it out. That's a good secret, right? Sometimes they are. And some of them you just want to keep. Everyone has some of those. Even my mom, I bet. But I'm not going to tell you any of mine. Obviously."
It's eleven, and one of the clocks in the lab begins to chime, a spurt of bells and a hint of laughter. Anna looks behind her at the shadows, and Harry grunts, flicking the fingers of one hand and rolling to curl on his side. Anna places the laptop on the ground, adding "Do you want me to pause it?" then shrugs, freezing the picture on the screen and scrabbling to her feet. She wobbles when she gets there, flickers in and out of shadow while walking across the room, and when she returns she has a green backpack with her. She slides down into her spot, pulling out a small blanket and a stuffed pig from the bag, and drapes one over top of her and hugs the other, leaving the laptop on the floor. "Can you see?" she asks, and starts the movie again.
She holds the pig in front of her and rests her chin between its ears. "Are you a good secret? I mean. You must be. If Harry's managed to keep you. Mom said she had no idea that he was getting her a birthday present, last month. Or that he knew when her birthday is. She says the only things you can't read on his face are the things it would be nice to know.
"She looked up his birthday. They have it on file. I saw his picture; he looks funny. It's Hallowe'en. His birthday, I mean. Did you know that? You probably knew that. A boy in my class, Benjamin, his birthday is two days before Christmas. I don't think I'd like that, because everyone would only get you one present. Not that it's about presents, but it would still suck. But on Hallowe'en, you'd just have cake and candy to eat. I think that would be great. Mom says it's not a good idea to give Harry any sugar. She says that about me, too, though. I'm not allowed any Coke after supper time. She even told Harry that. How long have you known each other? Are you friends? You must be, because you're here all the time."
She yawns again, mouth wide and braces glinting when her hand comes up a moment too late. "It would be cool to have a wizard as a friend. Mom says it's trouble, but I think Harry's awesome. But he's Mom's friend, not mine. That's okay, though. He's really nice to me, anyway. And not just because he has to be, you know? I think he just must be nice to everybody. I won't tell if you come out, you know. I won't even tell Harry, if you don't want me too."
She yawns again and tips her head back against the couch. By the time the boy on the computer screen crowns a young girl, she's fast asleep, head lolling against the seat cushions and arms limp and loose at her sides. The stuffed pig is on the floor, one ear flopping down over a round button eye. The credits have stopped and the screen has gone dark when the car door slams outside. Harry jolts awake and blinks, looking down at Anna and around the room.
He's found his feet by the time Murphy arrives at the door, knocking gently, and he rubs at his eyes while he opens it.
Murphy slips inside, a gust of August night coming in with her, sticky with leftover heat and cool with the dark sky. "Hey, Harry," she says. "Thanks so much; I'm sorry I'm later than I said I'd be. The show went longer than I thought, and we still hadn't had supper, so we stopped to get something. I dropped Jack off already; he has to work in the morning." Murphy's wide grin glows, her hair is as puffed out and frizzy as Anna's, and a sunburn on her cheeks makes her eyes shine in the dark. She follows Harry deeper into the apartment.
"Thank you, again. She loves staying with you. Did she keep you up all night? She's a talker." Murphy scratches at the back of her head, holding up sweat-dampened curls, and rolls her neck. "When did she fall asleep?" Harry flaps a hand and searches for something to say, but Murphy pushes past him, scooping up the laptop and DVD case and blanket, stuffing things back into Anna's green backpack. The candy bag is empty and she rolls her eyes, grabbing it and two empty glasses. "Children," she says. "And that's the both of you, I swear."
Harry cradles Anna carefully, letting her head rest against his neck, and grabs the stuffed pig by a trotter. It slaps against his hip when he follows Murphy to her car; the moon is high and bright, and the night is fresh with summer green and the thrum of the city and the tightness of old sun on his skin.
Bob waits until they are through the door before he steps out from the shadows. Anna's head is on Harry's shoulder, her small mouth partly open and her hair sticking to her face, but the change in temperature rouses her, and she looks up. Her eyes widen when she sees him, standing still and pale by the open door, and Bob bows his head, watching as she's tucked into the backseat, and echoes her gesture with a wink when she raises a finger to her lips and smiles.
Author: beachkid
TV or Book verse: TV
Characters: Bob, Anna Murphy, Harry Dresden, Connie Murphy
Recipient: fujurpreux
Assignment: Bob+Anna Murphy. Something about a teddy bear. Includes: "I must find the king of the Land of Tomorrow."
Word Count: 1 700
Spoilers: Assumes knowledge of the show, but nothing in particular. Takes place about a year and a half after Second City.
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Only the fic is mine.
Notes: Many thanks to all who beta-ed or were otherwise assaulted with the work in progress.
"I know you're there," Anna says. She's staring at the laptop screen and the moving picture is reflected back on her face, round cheeks and small mouth dancing with light and colour. "You've been there all night. I heard you and Harry talking. I've heard you and Harry talking lots of times. And he kept looking at you, during supper."
She glances over at Harry where he's dozing on the couch, long legs stretched out before him, tipped sideways over an armrest, his jaw pressed into his bent elbow and his body slowly sliding down as gravity and deeper sleep conspire against him. He'd made it through the opening credits, but not much further, and Anna had slipped from her seat once his eyes had shut, leaning back against the couch and moving the computer to her lap. "I don't think he keeps secrets very well."
She reaches for the bag of candy she'd brought with her, and pulls back a handful of small, brightly-coloured things, biting the head off of one and stretching another into a long, sugar-coated thread of jelly before popping them into her mouth. They clash terribly with the stain of bright orange above her top lip, left behind by her overly-sugared drink hours before. "You must be better at it. I'm not going to tell, you know. I'm good at secrets. I'm almost eleven. I know lots of them."
On the laptop screen a young boy lunges over a ship rail, and is caught short by a large man with horrible sense in dress. "I must find the king of the Land of Tomorrow!" the boy shouts, and Anna starts, turning down the volume and shoots a quick, guilty look at Harry. Harry frowns in his sleep, the hand he isn't laying on coming up to rub at his face, but he sighs and settles, and Anna looks away.
"My mom falls asleep when we're watching movies, too," she says. "She pretends she doesn't, but I totally know. She's even fallen asleep during this one. I've seen it lots of times. It's my favourite. The girl is the king, but everyone's looking for a boy. Mom snores sometimes. But only when she's really tired. She'd kill me if she found out I told you that. But she doesn't know about you, right? She would have told me. Especially when I was coming over. She always says the same things, every time. To be polite, and say thank you, and not to touch Harry's stuff. I've been coming here for almost a year; she doesn't need to tell me, over and over again. But she does. So she would have told me, as soon as she knew. She's not very good at keeping secrets, either."
A car passes by on the street outside, and the headlights shine through the room. Anna squints and Harry grunts, and the car drives on. The night sky is a deep, dark summer black that glows with blue from the inside, speckled with the promise of stars that can't quite been seen through the lights of the city. Harry's place is still rich with heat from the day, hints of cement and sun and humidity, and Anna's curls float and frizz about her face.
She's wearing a bright purple t-shirt with a picture of an anthropomorphic mouse on the front, and the word 'Disneyland' stitched across it in a rainbow of thread. Anna's nose is speckled with freckles in much the same way as Harry's is, hidden gold in the deeper, tanned hue of his skin, and Bob finds himself thinking unexpectedly of the previous month, the drive to an out-of-town job, his skull strapped into the passenger seat of Harry's jeep, and the July sun almost blinding on the highway before them and the fields to the sides. Harry's eyelashes had caught the light, and his skin had burnt.
"Sometimes secrets aren't such a bad thing," Anna says. "It depends." She gives a yawn, hand over her mouth, and on the screen the same boy from before is running away from a tall woman dressed all in black. He's clutching a teddy bear by one arm, and she's holding out a birdhouse. "Like, last December? My little brother - my dad and step-mom's son, my half-brother - Richard totally found some of our Christmas presents. From Santa. Not just presents from our parents or anything. I told my step-mom, and she had to get a bunch of new stuff, but Richard never figured it out. That's a good secret, right? Sometimes they are. And some of them you just want to keep. Everyone has some of those. Even my mom, I bet. But I'm not going to tell you any of mine. Obviously."
It's eleven, and one of the clocks in the lab begins to chime, a spurt of bells and a hint of laughter. Anna looks behind her at the shadows, and Harry grunts, flicking the fingers of one hand and rolling to curl on his side. Anna places the laptop on the ground, adding "Do you want me to pause it?" then shrugs, freezing the picture on the screen and scrabbling to her feet. She wobbles when she gets there, flickers in and out of shadow while walking across the room, and when she returns she has a green backpack with her. She slides down into her spot, pulling out a small blanket and a stuffed pig from the bag, and drapes one over top of her and hugs the other, leaving the laptop on the floor. "Can you see?" she asks, and starts the movie again.
She holds the pig in front of her and rests her chin between its ears. "Are you a good secret? I mean. You must be. If Harry's managed to keep you. Mom said she had no idea that he was getting her a birthday present, last month. Or that he knew when her birthday is. She says the only things you can't read on his face are the things it would be nice to know.
"She looked up his birthday. They have it on file. I saw his picture; he looks funny. It's Hallowe'en. His birthday, I mean. Did you know that? You probably knew that. A boy in my class, Benjamin, his birthday is two days before Christmas. I don't think I'd like that, because everyone would only get you one present. Not that it's about presents, but it would still suck. But on Hallowe'en, you'd just have cake and candy to eat. I think that would be great. Mom says it's not a good idea to give Harry any sugar. She says that about me, too, though. I'm not allowed any Coke after supper time. She even told Harry that. How long have you known each other? Are you friends? You must be, because you're here all the time."
She yawns again, mouth wide and braces glinting when her hand comes up a moment too late. "It would be cool to have a wizard as a friend. Mom says it's trouble, but I think Harry's awesome. But he's Mom's friend, not mine. That's okay, though. He's really nice to me, anyway. And not just because he has to be, you know? I think he just must be nice to everybody. I won't tell if you come out, you know. I won't even tell Harry, if you don't want me too."
She yawns again and tips her head back against the couch. By the time the boy on the computer screen crowns a young girl, she's fast asleep, head lolling against the seat cushions and arms limp and loose at her sides. The stuffed pig is on the floor, one ear flopping down over a round button eye. The credits have stopped and the screen has gone dark when the car door slams outside. Harry jolts awake and blinks, looking down at Anna and around the room.
He's found his feet by the time Murphy arrives at the door, knocking gently, and he rubs at his eyes while he opens it.
Murphy slips inside, a gust of August night coming in with her, sticky with leftover heat and cool with the dark sky. "Hey, Harry," she says. "Thanks so much; I'm sorry I'm later than I said I'd be. The show went longer than I thought, and we still hadn't had supper, so we stopped to get something. I dropped Jack off already; he has to work in the morning." Murphy's wide grin glows, her hair is as puffed out and frizzy as Anna's, and a sunburn on her cheeks makes her eyes shine in the dark. She follows Harry deeper into the apartment.
"Thank you, again. She loves staying with you. Did she keep you up all night? She's a talker." Murphy scratches at the back of her head, holding up sweat-dampened curls, and rolls her neck. "When did she fall asleep?" Harry flaps a hand and searches for something to say, but Murphy pushes past him, scooping up the laptop and DVD case and blanket, stuffing things back into Anna's green backpack. The candy bag is empty and she rolls her eyes, grabbing it and two empty glasses. "Children," she says. "And that's the both of you, I swear."
Harry cradles Anna carefully, letting her head rest against his neck, and grabs the stuffed pig by a trotter. It slaps against his hip when he follows Murphy to her car; the moon is high and bright, and the night is fresh with summer green and the thrum of the city and the tightness of old sun on his skin.
Bob waits until they are through the door before he steps out from the shadows. Anna's head is on Harry's shoulder, her small mouth partly open and her hair sticking to her face, but the change in temperature rouses her, and she looks up. Her eyes widen when she sees him, standing still and pale by the open door, and Bob bows his head, watching as she's tucked into the backseat, and echoes her gesture with a wink when she raises a finger to her lips and smiles.