The Dresden Files / Bob / #08. Vision
Title: Exposure
Fandom: The Dresden Files (tv-verse)
Character: Bob
Prompt: 08. Vision
Word Count: 1,258
Rating: G
Summary: Two boys on a quest for that elusive picture.
Disclaimer: Not mine but I can dream, can't I?
Notes: Plot bunny courtesy of Photobucket's "Capture a Ghost" contest.
Table: Here There be Ghosts
The little silver bell jingled cheerfully as the shop door opened, freezing the boys in the entrance like a pair of young bucks in bright headlights.
"What if somebody heard that?" hissed the smaller of the two.
"It's a store, dummy. They're supposed to hear it," replied his brother with false bravado. The elder of the two, he had a reputation to maintain. He couldn't let the kid see that he was just as nervous as he was. "Come on."
"I dunno, Frank." Still standing in the open doorway, he nervously glanced around the darkened shop. "I've got a really bad feeling about this."
"You get a really bad feeling about everything. Now get in here, Chuck," he demanded, "Or do I gotta tell everybody you're a crybaby?"
"I am not a crybaby!"
"Prove it."
With one final, wary glance around, Chuck took a deep breath and stepped across the threshold into the store.
"There, see?" said his brother. "Nothing to be afraid o--"
The door slammed closed behind them with a discordant jangle of the bell, earning a cry of surprise from both boys. Chuck moved instinctively closer to his brother, wide brown eyes looking at the door as if it were an ogre that might suddenly rush forward to eat them.
"It's just the wind," Frank assured him with a confidence he didn't really feel. "Now get your camera ready."
"This is a really, really, really stupid idea," grumbled Chuck but did what he was told. Fumbling in his jacket pocket, he pulled out the little digital camera and gripped it in both hands.
Together they moved a little further into the store.
"Look at this place," said Frank, finally taking a minute to actually look around. It wasn't at all what he'd expected. It was a dark room with hardwood floors and unpainted brick walls that looked more like an empty warehouse than a wizard's den. There was a battered old desk in the middle of the room with a few uncomfortable looking chairs in front of it but not much else. Pretty boring, really.
"Are you sure there's a wizard here?" asked Chuck, dubious.
"That's what it says on the door." But where were the potion bottles and bubbling cauldrons? The wands and staves and fetishes and monkeys paws and stuff? Pentacles and - "There!" Triumphant, Frank pointed a finger to a bookshelf in a shadowy corner. Peering back at them from among the paperbacks was a grinning human skull. "See? See? I told ya! There's gotta be a wizard here. Look at that thing! It's got mystical scribbly stuff all over it."
Chuck inched closer to his brother. "It's watching us."
Frank snorted. "What, that old thing? It's just a skull. It can't hurt you." He nudged his brother with an elbow. "Take a picture of it! Maybe we can use it in the contest."
"It is polite to first ask the owner for permission," replied a cool, imperious British voice.
A tall, lean stranger attired in a severely formal suit stepped out of the shadows and stepped between the boys and the shelves, obscuring the skull from their sight as well as the camera's lens.
"Are you the wizard?" asked Frank, frowning. The guy seemed so … ordinary.
"That depends. Are you a client?"
"Um … no."
"Then it does not really matter whether I am or am not," the man replied and gave a curt nod toward the door. "Good day to you, gentlemen."
Chuck grasped his brother's sleeve and gave it a sharp tug. "Come on, Frank. Let's go."
Frank absently pulling his arm and sleeve away. "What if I wanted to be a client?"
"Have you need of a wizard?"
"Kinda."
"Indeed? And what, might I ask, is it you would have him do for you?"
"Find us a ghost."
"A ghost?" The man looked genuinely surprised by the answer. "What manner of ghost?"
"Is there more than one kind?"
"Considerably more."
"Oh." Frank glanced at Chuck. "Um, any kind, I think."
Feeling a bit emboldened, Chuck held up his camera for the man to see. "A ghost we can take a picture of," he clarified.
"Why do you need a photograph?"
"It's for a contest."
"Right!" nodded Frank. "If we get the best picture of a ghost, we win a new camera-"
"-and some really great horror movies on DVD!" concluded Chuck. He already had a camera, so it was pretty obvious who got what if they actually won.
"I see," replied the stranger, a slight hint of amusement on his pale features. "So instead of sitting in a cemetery at night or exploring some decrepit building with a reputation for being haunted, you came to consult a wizard. Did you hope to hire him to conjure a spirit for you and your camera?"
"Oh no, nothing like that," said Chuck. "We just thought-"
"-I thought!" clarified his brother.
"Frank thought that maybe he'd have one lying around or something."
"Kinda like a familiar, you know? If he did have a ghost kinda hanging around, maybe we could get him to let us take a picture for our contest!" said Frank, pleased by his own logic. "That way we don't have to sit around in a graveyard or anything waiting to catch one."
"Mom would get pretty mad if we tried to stay there all night," Chuck confessed. "We have to be home by nine. Even on weekends."
"And everyone knows ghosts don't come out til midnight," said Frank.
"That is a fallacy," the man assured them. "Ghosts have been known to manifest at any time of day or night. It depends on the individual spirit and their nature." Or their curse.
"Do you have one?"
"I?"
The boys nodded in unison.
"I do not 'have' a ghost nor can I conjure one."
"Awwwww," said Chuck.
"Damn," agreed his brother.
"I am sorry, gentlemen. I wish that I could help you in your quest. Truly, I do. But I am not at liberty to divulge such things."
"That's okay," sighed Frank. He'd read the Harry Potter books so he knew all about wizards having to keep their magic stuff secret from regular people. "Thanks anyway. Come on, Chuck. Let's go." If they hurried, they could still get in a few hours of ghost hunting at the old churchyard.
"If I might inquire, when does this contest conclude?"
"Friday."
"I see. That does not give you much time."
Frank shrugged. "We might get lucky."
"Perhaps," he mused as he accompanied the boys to the door. "If you are not successful by midweek, I suggest that you return and inquire for Harry. He might have some suggestions that could prove helpful."
Chuck looked at the words stenciled on the door's glass window. Even backwards, he could read 'Harry Dresden. Wizard.' "You're not Harry?"
"Decidedly not."
"You're a wizard, too?"
"A sorcerer. Once upon a time." He bowed to them. "Again I bid you both a good day, and happy hunting."
"Thanks."
The door's little silver bell jingled a cheerful farewell as the boys left the shop.
Bob watched them depart with a thoughtful expression. It seemed such a pity to turn them away when they were so close to their goal. Perhaps Harry would have a better idea of how to help facilitate their quest without risking exposure - literally.
"A pity," he said to the empty shop. "They would have found me quite photogenic."
Fandom: The Dresden Files (tv-verse)
Character: Bob
Prompt: 08. Vision
Word Count: 1,258
Rating: G
Summary: Two boys on a quest for that elusive picture.
Disclaimer: Not mine but I can dream, can't I?
Notes: Plot bunny courtesy of Photobucket's "Capture a Ghost" contest.
Table: Here There be Ghosts
The little silver bell jingled cheerfully as the shop door opened, freezing the boys in the entrance like a pair of young bucks in bright headlights.
"What if somebody heard that?" hissed the smaller of the two.
"It's a store, dummy. They're supposed to hear it," replied his brother with false bravado. The elder of the two, he had a reputation to maintain. He couldn't let the kid see that he was just as nervous as he was. "Come on."
"I dunno, Frank." Still standing in the open doorway, he nervously glanced around the darkened shop. "I've got a really bad feeling about this."
"You get a really bad feeling about everything. Now get in here, Chuck," he demanded, "Or do I gotta tell everybody you're a crybaby?"
"I am not a crybaby!"
"Prove it."
With one final, wary glance around, Chuck took a deep breath and stepped across the threshold into the store.
"There, see?" said his brother. "Nothing to be afraid o--"
The door slammed closed behind them with a discordant jangle of the bell, earning a cry of surprise from both boys. Chuck moved instinctively closer to his brother, wide brown eyes looking at the door as if it were an ogre that might suddenly rush forward to eat them.
"It's just the wind," Frank assured him with a confidence he didn't really feel. "Now get your camera ready."
"This is a really, really, really stupid idea," grumbled Chuck but did what he was told. Fumbling in his jacket pocket, he pulled out the little digital camera and gripped it in both hands.
Together they moved a little further into the store.
"Look at this place," said Frank, finally taking a minute to actually look around. It wasn't at all what he'd expected. It was a dark room with hardwood floors and unpainted brick walls that looked more like an empty warehouse than a wizard's den. There was a battered old desk in the middle of the room with a few uncomfortable looking chairs in front of it but not much else. Pretty boring, really.
"Are you sure there's a wizard here?" asked Chuck, dubious.
"That's what it says on the door." But where were the potion bottles and bubbling cauldrons? The wands and staves and fetishes and monkeys paws and stuff? Pentacles and - "There!" Triumphant, Frank pointed a finger to a bookshelf in a shadowy corner. Peering back at them from among the paperbacks was a grinning human skull. "See? See? I told ya! There's gotta be a wizard here. Look at that thing! It's got mystical scribbly stuff all over it."
Chuck inched closer to his brother. "It's watching us."
Frank snorted. "What, that old thing? It's just a skull. It can't hurt you." He nudged his brother with an elbow. "Take a picture of it! Maybe we can use it in the contest."
"It is polite to first ask the owner for permission," replied a cool, imperious British voice.
A tall, lean stranger attired in a severely formal suit stepped out of the shadows and stepped between the boys and the shelves, obscuring the skull from their sight as well as the camera's lens.
"Are you the wizard?" asked Frank, frowning. The guy seemed so … ordinary.
"That depends. Are you a client?"
"Um … no."
"Then it does not really matter whether I am or am not," the man replied and gave a curt nod toward the door. "Good day to you, gentlemen."
Chuck grasped his brother's sleeve and gave it a sharp tug. "Come on, Frank. Let's go."
Frank absently pulling his arm and sleeve away. "What if I wanted to be a client?"
"Have you need of a wizard?"
"Kinda."
"Indeed? And what, might I ask, is it you would have him do for you?"
"Find us a ghost."
"A ghost?" The man looked genuinely surprised by the answer. "What manner of ghost?"
"Is there more than one kind?"
"Considerably more."
"Oh." Frank glanced at Chuck. "Um, any kind, I think."
Feeling a bit emboldened, Chuck held up his camera for the man to see. "A ghost we can take a picture of," he clarified.
"Why do you need a photograph?"
"It's for a contest."
"Right!" nodded Frank. "If we get the best picture of a ghost, we win a new camera-"
"-and some really great horror movies on DVD!" concluded Chuck. He already had a camera, so it was pretty obvious who got what if they actually won.
"I see," replied the stranger, a slight hint of amusement on his pale features. "So instead of sitting in a cemetery at night or exploring some decrepit building with a reputation for being haunted, you came to consult a wizard. Did you hope to hire him to conjure a spirit for you and your camera?"
"Oh no, nothing like that," said Chuck. "We just thought-"
"-I thought!" clarified his brother.
"Frank thought that maybe he'd have one lying around or something."
"Kinda like a familiar, you know? If he did have a ghost kinda hanging around, maybe we could get him to let us take a picture for our contest!" said Frank, pleased by his own logic. "That way we don't have to sit around in a graveyard or anything waiting to catch one."
"Mom would get pretty mad if we tried to stay there all night," Chuck confessed. "We have to be home by nine. Even on weekends."
"And everyone knows ghosts don't come out til midnight," said Frank.
"That is a fallacy," the man assured them. "Ghosts have been known to manifest at any time of day or night. It depends on the individual spirit and their nature." Or their curse.
"Do you have one?"
"I?"
The boys nodded in unison.
"I do not 'have' a ghost nor can I conjure one."
"Awwwww," said Chuck.
"Damn," agreed his brother.
"I am sorry, gentlemen. I wish that I could help you in your quest. Truly, I do. But I am not at liberty to divulge such things."
"That's okay," sighed Frank. He'd read the Harry Potter books so he knew all about wizards having to keep their magic stuff secret from regular people. "Thanks anyway. Come on, Chuck. Let's go." If they hurried, they could still get in a few hours of ghost hunting at the old churchyard.
"If I might inquire, when does this contest conclude?"
"Friday."
"I see. That does not give you much time."
Frank shrugged. "We might get lucky."
"Perhaps," he mused as he accompanied the boys to the door. "If you are not successful by midweek, I suggest that you return and inquire for Harry. He might have some suggestions that could prove helpful."
Chuck looked at the words stenciled on the door's glass window. Even backwards, he could read 'Harry Dresden. Wizard.' "You're not Harry?"
"Decidedly not."
"You're a wizard, too?"
"A sorcerer. Once upon a time." He bowed to them. "Again I bid you both a good day, and happy hunting."
"Thanks."
The door's little silver bell jingled a cheerful farewell as the boys left the shop.
Bob watched them depart with a thoughtful expression. It seemed such a pity to turn them away when they were so close to their goal. Perhaps Harry would have a better idea of how to help facilitate their quest without risking exposure - literally.
"A pity," he said to the empty shop. "They would have found me quite photogenic."