The Dresden Files / Bob / #02. Bounce
Title: Yuletide Treasure
Author: Cyloran
Fandom: The Dresden Files
Characters: Harry, Bob
Prompt: 02. Bounce
Word Count: 536
Rating: Very G
Summary: The art of tree decorating.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me; just passing through.
Table: Here There be Ghosts
Harry took a step back to admire his handiwork.
"Not too shabby," he congratulate himself. "Not bad at all!"
In fact, Harry was so pleased with his accomplishment that he hardly noticed when the ghost materialized beside him.
"What in Herne's name is that?"
"What's it look like?" Harry beamed his pride. "It's a Christmas tree."
Bob's eyes narrowed, his expression skeptical. "It is a pine twig."
Harry sighed, his enthusiasm marginally deflated. "Okay, well … yeah. Maybe it is a bit Charlie Brown-"
"A bit what?"
"-but it's the idea of the thing, right? Anyway, when was the last time we had a Christmas tree in here?"
"Never."
"Right."
"And we still do not."
"Scrooge." Harry glowered at the ghost. "Humor me, will ya?"
"Constantly." The ghost took a step forward toward scruffy, lopsided little tree. He was forced to bend down in order to see it properly, it was such a small, pitiful thing. "What is this?"
"What?"
"This?" Bob pointed to one of the branches.
"It's a cat."
"A purple cat?"
"Cute, isn't it?"
"You made this?"
"Me?" Harry laughed out loud. "Hell no. Anna did."
Bob's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "The Lieutenant's child?"
"Yeah. She thought I needed some Christmas, so she made me an ornament. Sweet, huh?"
"Why a cat?"
Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe she's not a dog person?"
"Why purple?"
Harry rolled his eyes at the ghost. "Look, if you don't like it, just … shut up, okay? It was a gift and-"
"I am not criticizing the young lady's work," Bob assured him. "I am merely curious as to the meaning."
"You want meaning? Okay, fine. Meaning: She's a really sweet six year old kid who likes giving scruffy looking wizards purple kitties for their Christmas tree."
"Twig."
"Whatever."
Bob's expression turned thoughtful as he considered the ornament in question - the only decoration on the pitiful little tree, as it happened.
"Purple has traditionally been considered the color of mystery and magic," he said sagely. "And in many cultures, the cat represents a spiritual link between mortals and the universe. It, too, is about magic and mystery." He turned to regard Harry. "As well as independence and strength."
Harry threw up his hands. "Bob! There's no deep dark meaning here. It's just a kitty cat, okay?"
"Yes, of course. If you insist."
"I do insist," said Harry, a little petulantly.
"Very well." Bob stepped back and returned to Harry's side. Together, they contemplate the tree as a whole. "It needs more ornaments."
"I think it's just fine with the one it's got."
"And lights. Are there not supposed to be lights upon the branches?"
"I wish." Harry sighed. "Can you see me trying to put a string of lights on that thing? It'll disintegrate into a pile of twigs and needles."
"Say you so?"
The old ghost lifted his index finger and carefully inscribed a golden pentacle upon the air. With an almost negligent waggle of his fingers, he encouraged the rune to drift slightly more to the right, where it hovered over the topmost branch of the little tree.
Harry blinked at the softly glowing star, the light shining within his dark eyes. "Perfect."
Author: Cyloran
Fandom: The Dresden Files
Characters: Harry, Bob
Prompt: 02. Bounce
Word Count: 536
Rating: Very G
Summary: The art of tree decorating.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me; just passing through.
Table: Here There be Ghosts
Harry took a step back to admire his handiwork.
"Not too shabby," he congratulate himself. "Not bad at all!"
In fact, Harry was so pleased with his accomplishment that he hardly noticed when the ghost materialized beside him.
"What in Herne's name is that?"
"What's it look like?" Harry beamed his pride. "It's a Christmas tree."
Bob's eyes narrowed, his expression skeptical. "It is a pine twig."
Harry sighed, his enthusiasm marginally deflated. "Okay, well … yeah. Maybe it is a bit Charlie Brown-"
"A bit what?"
"-but it's the idea of the thing, right? Anyway, when was the last time we had a Christmas tree in here?"
"Never."
"Right."
"And we still do not."
"Scrooge." Harry glowered at the ghost. "Humor me, will ya?"
"Constantly." The ghost took a step forward toward scruffy, lopsided little tree. He was forced to bend down in order to see it properly, it was such a small, pitiful thing. "What is this?"
"What?"
"This?" Bob pointed to one of the branches.
"It's a cat."
"A purple cat?"
"Cute, isn't it?"
"You made this?"
"Me?" Harry laughed out loud. "Hell no. Anna did."
Bob's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "The Lieutenant's child?"
"Yeah. She thought I needed some Christmas, so she made me an ornament. Sweet, huh?"
"Why a cat?"
Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe she's not a dog person?"
"Why purple?"
Harry rolled his eyes at the ghost. "Look, if you don't like it, just … shut up, okay? It was a gift and-"
"I am not criticizing the young lady's work," Bob assured him. "I am merely curious as to the meaning."
"You want meaning? Okay, fine. Meaning: She's a really sweet six year old kid who likes giving scruffy looking wizards purple kitties for their Christmas tree."
"Twig."
"Whatever."
Bob's expression turned thoughtful as he considered the ornament in question - the only decoration on the pitiful little tree, as it happened.
"Purple has traditionally been considered the color of mystery and magic," he said sagely. "And in many cultures, the cat represents a spiritual link between mortals and the universe. It, too, is about magic and mystery." He turned to regard Harry. "As well as independence and strength."
Harry threw up his hands. "Bob! There's no deep dark meaning here. It's just a kitty cat, okay?"
"Yes, of course. If you insist."
"I do insist," said Harry, a little petulantly.
"Very well." Bob stepped back and returned to Harry's side. Together, they contemplate the tree as a whole. "It needs more ornaments."
"I think it's just fine with the one it's got."
"And lights. Are there not supposed to be lights upon the branches?"
"I wish." Harry sighed. "Can you see me trying to put a string of lights on that thing? It'll disintegrate into a pile of twigs and needles."
"Say you so?"
The old ghost lifted his index finger and carefully inscribed a golden pentacle upon the air. With an almost negligent waggle of his fingers, he encouraged the rune to drift slightly more to the right, where it hovered over the topmost branch of the little tree.
Harry blinked at the softly glowing star, the light shining within his dark eyes. "Perfect."