First Dresden fic!!
*hopes this works*
Fandom: The Dresden Files (TV)
Genre: missing scene, introspection.
Summary: Bob and Harry differ on the definition of bad ideas. Oneshot, tag for "Bad Blood."
Title:
In At The Wrap
"Another day," droned the ironic voice from beyond the couch, "another brush with death. Good job, Harry. But you can't depend on that kind of luck forever."
Glancing up, Harry threw his arm across the backrest and twisted a bit so that he could more effectively roll his eyes at Bob. "Hey. She was in the right, and I owed her something, okay?"
"You'll always owe her for that," said the ghost, with a dismissive wave of his hand. He didn't add because you think you should. "She was telling the truth, you know. You can't redeem her."
Harry leaned his head back and closed his eyes, which didn't fool Bob for a minute. "Who said I was trying?" the young wizard mumbled.
"Red Court vampires don't have friendships, Harry," remarked Bob, his voice gentle for once. "They have allies or enemies -- they're worse factionalists than the High Council. Chivalry is misguided when it comes to them."
"What, you'd rather I got into the whole plotty schemy thing and met her on her own ground?" said Harry wearily. "Bob. It's over, she's gone, we're all still here. Now will you quit badmouthing my client?"
"Former client--"
"Please?"
Bob smirked. "But she makes it so easy."
"Look, she's not going to kill me. She knows I'd make a lousy vampire."
"And if you simply stayed dead--?"
With a groan of irritation, Harry rolled to his feet.
"I don't suppose," said Bob forlornly, "that this burst of energy means you're going to renew the wards on the front door? You did practically leave her an open invitation. She could walk back in here at any moment."
"Shut up, Bob." Pausing for a moment to rein in his aura -- it wouldn't do for the phone to go haywire at this critical juncture -- Harry headed for his desk.
"I doubt she's back at her club yet," commented Bob. "She's only just left."
"I'm not calling her."
"Well, there's a step in the right direction."
"Shut up or I might decide this is a bad idea."
Bob narrowed his eyes, vanished, and reappeared right at Harry's side, clearly testing his options for non-verbal irritation. Ignoring the persistent presence as best he could, Harry made his phone call, fumbling a little on the accents but successfully completing an order that left Bob gaping in astonishment.
He then picked up the abandoned wine-glasses and carried them through to the kitchen, remarking over his shoulder: "Close your mouth, Bob... you're catching dead flies."
"Ugh." The ghost shuddered, walking through table and couch to lean in at the kitchen door. "Always one to turn a phrase. And where will you be during this creative though obvious change of subject?"
Harry was rooting in the refrigerator. "Come on, Bob. Don't you trust me?"
"Not for a minute."
"Well, I thought I'd go down to the club and--"
"Harry--"
His mouth quirking into a grin, Harry emerged from the kitchen with a beer, flipped a pillow over at the end of the couch and spread out a knitted quilt.
"Sleeping," he said lightly. "The deep and impenetrable sleep of the just. Oh, did I mention well-warded? That goes in there too. Better turn invisible or something -- they're bringing it over in like two minutes."
"I should have known." Despite himself, Bob was smiling. "Culture simply flits past you."
"Which is just as it should be. And since I won't have to suffer through it, we can set it up so it plays all the commentaries and special features too."
"At least you don't snore."
"You got all the luck, Bob."
"You do know," said the ghost carefully, "that you didn't have to do this?"
"It was either that or not talk about vampires for the rest of the night. Besides--" There was a loud knocking sound and Harry moved out toward the office front, glancing back at what now appeared to be an empty room. "Besides, you missed the best part."
_____
Fandom: The Dresden Files (TV)
Genre: missing scene, introspection.
Summary: Bob and Harry differ on the definition of bad ideas. Oneshot, tag for "Bad Blood."
Title:
In At The Wrap
"Another day," droned the ironic voice from beyond the couch, "another brush with death. Good job, Harry. But you can't depend on that kind of luck forever."
Glancing up, Harry threw his arm across the backrest and twisted a bit so that he could more effectively roll his eyes at Bob. "Hey. She was in the right, and I owed her something, okay?"
"You'll always owe her for that," said the ghost, with a dismissive wave of his hand. He didn't add because you think you should. "She was telling the truth, you know. You can't redeem her."
Harry leaned his head back and closed his eyes, which didn't fool Bob for a minute. "Who said I was trying?" the young wizard mumbled.
"Red Court vampires don't have friendships, Harry," remarked Bob, his voice gentle for once. "They have allies or enemies -- they're worse factionalists than the High Council. Chivalry is misguided when it comes to them."
"What, you'd rather I got into the whole plotty schemy thing and met her on her own ground?" said Harry wearily. "Bob. It's over, she's gone, we're all still here. Now will you quit badmouthing my client?"
"Former client--"
"Please?"
Bob smirked. "But she makes it so easy."
"Look, she's not going to kill me. She knows I'd make a lousy vampire."
"And if you simply stayed dead--?"
With a groan of irritation, Harry rolled to his feet.
"I don't suppose," said Bob forlornly, "that this burst of energy means you're going to renew the wards on the front door? You did practically leave her an open invitation. She could walk back in here at any moment."
"Shut up, Bob." Pausing for a moment to rein in his aura -- it wouldn't do for the phone to go haywire at this critical juncture -- Harry headed for his desk.
"I doubt she's back at her club yet," commented Bob. "She's only just left."
"I'm not calling her."
"Well, there's a step in the right direction."
"Shut up or I might decide this is a bad idea."
Bob narrowed his eyes, vanished, and reappeared right at Harry's side, clearly testing his options for non-verbal irritation. Ignoring the persistent presence as best he could, Harry made his phone call, fumbling a little on the accents but successfully completing an order that left Bob gaping in astonishment.
He then picked up the abandoned wine-glasses and carried them through to the kitchen, remarking over his shoulder: "Close your mouth, Bob... you're catching dead flies."
"Ugh." The ghost shuddered, walking through table and couch to lean in at the kitchen door. "Always one to turn a phrase. And where will you be during this creative though obvious change of subject?"
Harry was rooting in the refrigerator. "Come on, Bob. Don't you trust me?"
"Not for a minute."
"Well, I thought I'd go down to the club and--"
"Harry--"
His mouth quirking into a grin, Harry emerged from the kitchen with a beer, flipped a pillow over at the end of the couch and spread out a knitted quilt.
"Sleeping," he said lightly. "The deep and impenetrable sleep of the just. Oh, did I mention well-warded? That goes in there too. Better turn invisible or something -- they're bringing it over in like two minutes."
"I should have known." Despite himself, Bob was smiling. "Culture simply flits past you."
"Which is just as it should be. And since I won't have to suffer through it, we can set it up so it plays all the commentaries and special features too."
"At least you don't snore."
"You got all the luck, Bob."
"You do know," said the ghost carefully, "that you didn't have to do this?"
"It was either that or not talk about vampires for the rest of the night. Besides--" There was a loud knocking sound and Harry moved out toward the office front, glancing back at what now appeared to be an empty room. "Besides, you missed the best part."
_____