| Touching a Dream |
| The sunlight was streaming into his bedroom by the time Harry woke up. Something seemed vaguely wrong. He was alone. No, that was right. It had been two nights ago that Tara had been here ... been here and stolen Bob. Bob! He had been alone last night ... but in a way he hadn't. Bob had been with him, sharing his body ... or had that just been a dream?
"Good morning, Harry." Bob's rich voice came from the foot of the bed. He sat there, much as they had sat together last night, but now he was smiling tenderly at Harry. // Not a dream, then ... // Harry stared at the ghost, his sleepy brain trying desperately to process what had really happened. A crazy jumble of emotions hindered the process. "Uh, Bob. Yeah, good morning." Bob's hopeful expression fell as he saw the confusion in Harry's eyes. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. "Harry? Do you regret what we did last night?" Harry rubbed his eyes. "Bob ... I'm not sure I even remember last night. I thought it was a dream ..." The ghost dissolved into a red mist, and reformed standing stiffly off to the side of Harry's bed. "A dream. Yes, of course. Forgive me if I have taken any liberties this morning, Harry ..." And again he dissolved, the mist darting away to disappear into his skull. "Bob! No, wait ...!" Harry called out, climbing out of bed. But Bob had disappeared downstairs, and Harry wasn't awake enough to run after him. A shower would help. Harry stumbled into the bathroom and turned the water on as hot as he could stand it. He stood there, just letting the water pound on his back and shoulders as his mind tried to sort out what was going on. A dream, yes. He'd been dreaming of Bob's death, for good. And woken up to find the ghost hovering over him. After everything that had happened yesterday, he'd felt ... something. A closeness, a connection to Bob. // ok, Harry. Admit it to yourself. You love the cranky old ghost. // Even as he thought it, he knew it was true. Ever since his father had died, he'd never really let anybody in. But somehow, over the past 25 years as his teacher, mentor, and friend, Bob had gotten past his defenses. And had died in his arms yesterday. Saving Harry's life. So yeah, for that, he could admit he loved the guy. And it was pretty obvious Bob felt pretty strongly about him. You don't give your life to save somebody you don't really care about. Looking back, Harry could see many signs that the ghost's attachment to him was more than just because Harry happened to be the current 'owner' of his skull. They made a good team. Worked well together. Cared about each other. Yeah. Good. But what had happened after? Bob, talking about how hard it was to live just outside the real world, never touching, tasting, feeling ... regret for the corporeal existence he'd had a second chance at thanks to Uncle Justin. Harry, in a burst of compassion, offering Bob the use of his body. The experiment. The sex. Oh, god, the sex. Bob always was a horny old ghost. He loved spying on Harry whenever he had a girl over � not that it happened all that often. Harry really shouldn't have been surprised that the first physical pleasure Bob wanted to indulge was sex. There had been something special about them sharing one body. Almost like a feedback loop, intensifying the pleasure. But even more, Harry had gotten the feeling that Bob hadn't just been borrowing Harry's body to jerk off; he had been making love to Harry. They had both been wrapped up in the emotions of the day. It had felt incredible, in his body, and in his heart. And much to Harry's surprise, his body was reacting now to the memory of it. // I'm not gay. Why the hell am I getting so turned on? // Was it just more intense because of the feedback of two minds sharing pleasure? Or was there something else? Did it bother Harry if Bob ... loved him? That way? Could he feel the same way? Harry was feeling very confused. He didn't like being confused. He shut off the hot water, dousing himself in a cold spray. He needed his mind clear to think. Shivering, he shut off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a towel. He quickly dried off, dressed, and decided that he needed some time to think before even trying to coax Bob out of his skull ... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bob huddled inside his skull, as abjectly miserable as he'd felt in centuries. Why, WHY had he pushed it? He should have known when to leave well enough alone. He'd been given a very special gift last night, wasn't that enough? Now, Harry would probably never again allow him to come back. To share a living, breathing human body. Why had he ruined everything with sex? It hadn't always been like this ... his feelings for Harry. He remembered the confused, frightened orphan he'd first met 25 years ago. It hadn't been the first time in his long 'un-life' that Bob had been a teacher. But he'd never had such an apt pupil. Young Harry had a lively mind and an active imagination. And a gift. Most certainly, a gift. Justin Morningway couldn't care less for the boy; all he wanted was the powerful sorcerer Harry would become. Until then, he played the part of the loving Uncle, as briefly as possible, then left the boy with Bob. But Harry had something many of the Morningway clan had lacked. Not only did he have a powerful mind, and a powerful gift for magic. He also had a heart. And after centuries serving generation after generation of Morningways, Harry was a refreshing change. Bob had found himself drawn to the boy from the very beginning. He could see how careful Harry was to not let anybody get too close. But even with those emotional guards in place, he was a truer friend than Bob had had in a very long time. He'd watched Harry grow into a fine young man, strong in both his magic and his spirit. And when push came to shove and Harry finally found out what his mother's family was really like, it hadn't been a difficult choice for Bob. He had chosen Harry over Justin that fateful night. And never regretted that choice. Since Harry had brought him here, set up his own home, his own lab, it had been Bob's home as well. And it felt more like a home than that musty old estate ever had. The most amazing thing was that Harry usually didn't treat Bob like a servant. They were friends, co-workers. It was easy to forget sometimes that Bob was a ghost, chained for eternity to his skull, and bound to obey whoever possessed it. He really couldn't say exactly when he realized he loved Harry. It had started perhaps as the love of a father. But that hadn't been the case for many years now. They were equals, partners, friends. Somewhere in there, something had changed. Then yesterday, to be stolen, his skull once again held by Justin. To be offered his fondest desire � to return to human life. And to have to sacrifice it all to save Harry. It was worth it all, just for the memory of those few moments when Harry had held him. He just stayed there for a good long time, replaying those moments in his mind, feeling Harry's strong arms around him. It had done something to him. Made him realize that Harry loved him too .... And last night he'd proven it. Inviting Bob to share his body. It had been so wonderful. And when he'd realized that not only could he touch, he was touching HARRY ... it had been too much for him. Desires too long denied had flared. And because of it he'd lost it all. Harry wanted it all to have been a dream. Something he could walk away from in the light of day. How was he going to face Harry now? How could they work together? Bob spent most of the day with his lonely thoughts chasing in circles. He was so wrapped up in it, he didn't even notice when Harry returned. Harry came over to the corner of his desk where Bob's skull sat. The eye lights were extinguished; but Harry knew better. Bob was in there. He'd been doing a lot of thinking while wandering around the city. He reached out and gently touched the skull, his fingers tracing lightly over the carved bone. He smiled softly, letting the touch become a caress. "Bob? Come on out, Bob. I'm not mad at you. Really. We need to talk." Harry's voice startled Bob out of his thoughts. // Time to face the music, I suppose ... // He hesitated, not really wanting to face this. Harry picked up the skull, cradling it in his hands. "Please, Bob. I ... I won't Summon you. But please, talk to me." This time, Bob was listening, and something in Harry's voice made him wonder if there might be reason to hope. He ghosted out of the skull and formed in front of Harry, surprised to see Harry holding his skull. He really should have noticed it being picked up ... Harry gently set the skull back down on the desk. "It wasn't just a dream, Bob. I know that. You just caught me off guard this morning." The ghost's head was bowed in contrition. "Harry, I shouldn't have ..." "Hey. It's all right. Bob, I enjoyed it too. I'm still not quite sure I understand what I'm feeling, but it's something, and it's real." The emotion in Harry's voice forced Bob to look up into a pair of dark eyes. Harry reached out, his hand brushing the side of Bob's face. Bob 'felt' it as a slight pressure. He stared into Harry's eyes. "Harry ... " Harry could see the pain in those icy blue-grey eyes. Pain, sadness, and just a glimmer of hope. He had to reach that hope, bring it to life. There was one guaranteed way ... "Come on in, Bob." Harry's voice was barely a whisper. But it was all Bob needed. He closed his eyes and just walked right into Harry, letting his body dissolve as they merged. Harry felt something 'click' into place as Bob settled in. It felt nice, comfortable. His arms came up and wrapped around himself, hugging himself, hugging Bob, holding him close. Bob couldn't believe it. He'd been so sure he'd never feel this again. But here he was, Harry was holding him close, and all was right with the world. The emotional whiplash was almost more than he could stand. For a while, neither of them said anything. It was enough to feel the closeness of their shared body, the warmth of that embrace. But finally, Harry let go, his mind asking softly, // Better? // // Much ... // came the silent reply. Harry's hand pressed lightly against Bob's face. // It's gonna be ok, Bob. Trust me. // Bob nodded, pressing back against Harry's hand. Harry patted his face, then let go. //Bob, please don't take this the wrong way. I'm not throwing you out. It's just ... right now I need to see your face, ok? // Harry's request caught Bob by surprise. He didn't want to leave this closeness right now. But he understood why Harry needed this, so rather than respond, he simply left, reappearing at Harry's side. "Thank you, Harry." Bob's voice was soft and still a bit heavy with emotion. Harry smiled softly. "I think we both needed that, Bob." He reached out and 'touched' Bob's arm. "I wish I could touch you and see you at the same time. But for now at least, this will have to do." Bob just nodded. Harry walked over to the couch and sat down, gesturing for Bob to join him. The problem with big old couches is that you never know if the person you're sitting with wants you to sit next to them, or at the other end. Bob hesitated a moment, then re-formed his body beside Harry, forcing himself to look up into Harry's eyes. Harry smiled reassuringly. "I mean it, Bob. I'm not mad about last night. Just kinda ... confused. I never ... I never felt anything like that before." Bob considered his answer. "I think I know what you mean, Harry. I ... it's been so long since I felt anything like that. It makes it hard for me to know what would have been 'normal.' If you can call anything about this situation 'normal?' He managed a weak smile. Harry laughed softly. "No, I don't suppose you can. But trust me on this, it wasn't 'normal.' It was almost like I could feel what you were feeling." "You did, Harry ... it's just the one body ..." Harry shook his head. "It was more than that, Bob. It was like I could feel your appreciation of the physical pleasure, could feel your joy in finally being able to experience this again. And that affected me. They say sex is mostly in the mind. It ... mattered to me that you were enjoying it ..." Bob was surprised to see a tinge of red coloring Harry's face. He felt a twinge of fear. "Harry ... if you don't want this, it never has to happen again ..." "No, Bob, it's ok. Really. I just ... listen, I've, uh, I've never exactly had all that much luck with women ... I guess it's all those trust issues. I ... oh, hell, I need to know, Bob. Last night, were you just doing it for your own pleasure, or ... were you ... making love to me?" Bob could see the uncertainty on Harry's face. Uncertain about Bob's response, or what Harry wanted it to be? He closed his eyes, trying to decide how much to say. "Harry, I ..." Harry's hand brushed against his ghostly face. "The truth, Bob. Please." Their eyes locked and held, and finally Bob nodded. "The truth, Harry. It was a little of both. It started out as you intended, just for my pleasure. But at some point I realized that it was truly your body I was touching, and ... that mattered to me, as you said." He could see Harry taking this in, accepting it, finally nodding. "Harry, please understand something ... I have loved you for a very long time. First, almost as a father, when you were young. But that has long since grown into the respect and devotion of equals, of friends. Whether or not sex is ever a part of it again, that love is very real, and very important to me." He looked into Harry's eyes, pleading, hoping he would understand. Harry smiled softly. "I know ..." He paused and took a deep breath. "I ... I never really thought about how much you meant to me, Bob, until I almost lost you yesterday. And I'm more sorry about that than you can imagine. But I'm thinking about it now. And ... well ... I ... I love you, too ..." Harry's voice was barely more than a whisper, but it was saying what Bob had longed to hear. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to somehow contain the joy that threatened to overwhelm him. And then he 'felt' Harry's hands pulling at his ghostly form. "Come back, Bob ..." He didn't need another invitation. He simply leaned into Harry, letting them once more become one. It really was beginning to feel like coming 'home.' Once again, they simply held each other close, the need for words gone for the moment. A few tears leaked from Harry's eyes ... whose they were, was hard to say. It was a good long while before they released from that embrace. But finally the emotions calmed from overwhelming to simply wonderful. Harry relaxed his arms and leaned back into the comfy corner of the couch, his arms crossed lightly over his middle now. Somehow, they seemed to fall into a natural agreement that the left hand was Harry's, and the right was Bob's, leaving them holding hands. But more than that, they could feel each other in a non-tactile way as well. They knew they were both there. // So. What now? // Bob's voice echoed softly in Harry's mind. He wasn't going to push this time, letting Harry take charge. Harry surprised himself by answering aloud. "I seem to remember promising you a dinner, and I'm starving. Want to come along?" The though of actually tasting food again was almost as good as sex. At the moment, maybe even better. // Oh, God, YES! // Harry had to chuckle at Bob's enthusiasm. "Anything in particular you'd like? Steak? Italian? Chinese?" // All of it? // came the eager reply. That got an all out laugh. "Sorry, Bob, don't think I can manage that all at once." // ::sigh:: I never had so many choices in my true life, Harry ... the world has indeed gone on without me ... // Harry thought about that. Bob had lived centuries ago. Hell, they probably hadn't even had modern utensils back then. When had the fork been introduced to England? Sixteenth century? He decided to narrow down the choices a bit. "OK, how about this � do you want something familiar, or something you wouldn't have had back then?" Bob thought about it for a moment. It looked like they would have plenty of opportunities to experiment. Right now he wanted comfort. // Familiar. // "OK, then, steak it is. Let's go." Harry got up, grabbed his jacket, and was heading towards the door when Bob stopped him. // Harry, wait. My skull ... // "Huh?" // Even though I'm sharing your body for the moment, I'm still bound to it, Harry. I can't be more than a few yards away ... // "Ah. Ok." Harry grabbed the backpack he occasionally used for this purpose, the few times he'd had to take Bob to a crime scene. He gingerly picked up the skull and settled it into the backpack. "Um, Bob? Does it bother you when somebody touches it? It seems awfully, uh, personal ..." Bob's soft chuckle filled Harry's mind. // I know when somebody touches it � usually. I guess it depends on who, and how. I never mind it when you do, Harry. // That comment made Harry blush. He decided to ignore it for the moment and just settled the backpack over his shoulders and continued out the door, locking it behind him with both the deadbolt and some magic. Harry headed off down the street toward a nearby restaurant district. There was one of the national chain steak places there. Not the real hoity-toity ones, he was way too underdressed for that, and besides, who went to a place like that alone? // Not that I'm alone ... // he reminded himself with a smile. // No, Harry, you're not alone. // Bob responded affectionately. The inner dialog distracted Harry, and he almost walked into a couple walking in front of him. "Excuse me! Sorry, was lost in thought there ... '' Harry mumbled an apology. Bob chuckled. // Perhaps I'd better let you 'drive', as it were. // "Yeah, Bob, sounds like a good idea." Harry frowned as another passer-by looked at him strangely for talking to himself. Bob did his best to sit back and not distract Harry, but it was hard. He had seen so little of the world since he became a ghost. Being chained to that skull made it difficult for him to get around. He'd tested the limits; he could actually get about 100 feet away from it before being yanked back unceremoniously. Sometimes when Harry was gone during the day, he'd go outside and just watch the people hurrying around the city. Life had certainly changed since his day. He had to say, he liked modern clothing much better. Especially the women. "Bob, I'd like to see where I'm going ... " Harry's voice sounded a bit testy. // Sorry, Harry ... // A particularly attractive and under-dressed woman had caught Bob's attention. "She's probably a hooker, dressed like that. And no, I won't ..." // Don't worry, Harry. I wouldn't ask you to do that. Besides, right now, I'm not sure I want to share you with anybody ... even someone who looks like that! // Once again, Bob's flattery was making Harry blush. This was going to take some getting used to. But Harry realized he agreed with Bob. Right now, he didn't want anyone else. Maybe some time in the future, when they had sorted this all out, it might be fun to let Bob ride along while he was with a woman. But not now. Tonight was their special night out. Their first date? That made Harry's head spin. Better not to think about that. Whatever you called it, it was just him and Bob. Thankfully, the restaurant appeared in front of Harry, distracting him from that train of thought. The hostess led him to a small dark table in back, which was perfect for them. Harry picked up the menu, letting Bob see the wealth of choices just in this one restaurant. // Good lord, Harry! How am I supposed to decide? // Harry chuckled. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it. You just sit back and enjoy." Just then a waitress came up to take his order, giving him a strange look for apparently talking to himself. Harry ordered a glass of red wine, and a filet, rare. When the waitress brought the wine, Harry waited until she was gone before nudging Bob. "Go ahead, my friend." Bob reached out with Harry's arm and picked up the glass. Bringing it to his lips, he tentatively took a sip. "Oh, yes! Oh, that's lovely!" The words came out softly, almost like a sigh. Harry sat back and let Bob take control, enjoying that glass of wine like no other he'd ever tasted. Bob's delight infused every sip with an almost magical intensity. It could have been ambrosia, and it wouldn't have tasted better. The glass was empty by the time the waitress returned with their meal, so she took it to refill. Just the smells coming from the plate were almost more than Bob could handle. "Oh, Harry! This is incredible!" Bob glanced at the silverware, not quite sure what to do. "I see those silly Italian things caught on?" Harry realized he was talking about the fork. He remembered reading somewhere that it had been the Italians who had first introduced the fork to England. // Uh, yeah. Here, let me show you. // Harry took control, taking knife and fork and cutting the first bite. His mouth was watering long before the fork even got close. As he popped it into his mouth, he let Bob resume control, slipping back into the background. Even from there, he felt Bob's intense enjoyment. Steak, potatoes, asparagus in a cream sauce. Two more glasses of wine. By the time they were done, Bob was well into sensory overload, and more than a bit tipsy. The waitress tried to talk them into dessert, bringing a tray with samples on it that practically made Bob's eyes pop out of his head. Harry took over then, thanking her but assuring her that he didn't have room for one more bite. He paid the check, and they headed home. Back at his place, Harry took Bob's skull out of the backpack and gently placed it back in its customary spot on his desk. They hadn't talked much on the walk home. Harry got the distinct impression that Bob was more than a little overwhelmed. Kicking off his shoes, Harry curled up on the couch. "Bob? You ok in there?" // OK? Harry, I'm so far past ok I don�t think it could be measured! // Bob giggled. Harry chuckled softly as Bob's contentment washed over them both. He was also feeling the effects of the wine. "I'm glad you liked it." // But Harry ... if that's what you think would be familiar to me ... I'm almost afraid to see what's not! // Harry gave him a gentle squeeze. "I guess the world has changed a lot, hasn't it?" // You can't imagine, Harry. // "And in all that time, nobody else ever let you ...?" Harry felt, rather than heard, Bob's sigh. // They were all my masters, Harry. It just would never have occurred to them. You are truly the first to be my friend. // "That's sad." // All part of the curse, Harry. I think that sometimes in anger, we forget that eternity is an awfully long time ... // Harry's hand gently rubbed over Bob's arm. "I can't possibly make up for all those years, Bob ... but I'm here now ..." // And I appreciate that more than you can know, Harry. // Harry let his hand gently slide down onto his leg, Bob's leg. "So ... do you want to ...?" Bob could feel Harry's uncertainty. He didn't want to push. And truthfully, this night he was more than sated for physical experiences. // Not tonight, Harry. I think I've had enough physicality for one day. // Harry wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. Or maybe a bit of both. Bob reached up and touched Harry's face. // Harry. I can't thank you enough for this. It is such an incredible gift. For right now, I just want to be with you. // Harry smiled and turned his head just a bit, placing a gentle kiss on Bob's palm. "Works for me." It was probably a good thing Bob wasn't feeling amorous for once. The events of this day were catching up with Harry. The emotional upheavals, the hours he'd spent walking the streets thinking, the warm contentment he felt now � not to mention four glasses of wine � were all taking their toll. "Hey Bob. Been meaning to ask you. Why were you 'out there' this morning? Weren't you with me last night when I fell asleep?" He felt Bob's amusement. // Ah, yes, you wouldn't remember that. It seems that while your conscious mind welcomes me, your subconscious hasn't gotten the message yet. The moment you fell asleep, I was kicked out. // "Oh! Sorry about that!" Harry answered sleepily, fighting back a yawn. "I have a feeling it's going to happen again pretty soon ..." Bob hugged him. // Rest then, Harry. I'll be right beside you when you wake up tomorrow. If that's what you want? // Harry hugged back. "I promise not to chase you off again." //Then I'll see you in the morning, Harry. // With a sigh, Harry got up from the couch, shut out the lights, and climbed the stairs to his loft bedroom. He barely bothered to throw his clothes in the general direction of the laundry pile on the floor of his closet before crawling under the covers. Less than a minute later, Bob's ghostly mist emerged and coalesced into his visible body, sitting beside Harry, watching over him with a soft smile. Continue on to Chapter 3 Send me some Feedback Back to my Dresden Home page Back to the Jade Palace Home Disclaimer: I don't own them, just borrowing them for fun, not profit. |
| Chapter 2 |