| Touching a Dream |
| Bob's disappearance left Harry standing there, not sure what to do. After a minute, he shook himself, angrily brushed the tears from his face, grabbed his jacket, and stalked out of the place. If Bob didn't want to talk to him, so be it.
Times like this, one of two things happened. Either his brain went into overload, trying to figure out the answer to the problem. Or it shut down completely, refusing to deal with the situation. This whole thing with Bob was so far out of his depth that he opted for the latter. Relationships � real ones, not the shallow acquaintances he usually opted for � were something he really had no experience with. He literally had no idea what to do. So he wandered into a nearby bar, and ordered a shot and a beer. Numb the pain, shut down the brain. Two shots later, he realized it wasn't working. The pain was still there, stabbing him in the gut. He'd let Bob down. After all the ghost had done for him all these years. Cared for him, loved him when nobody else had. When all he'd had was the ever-distant Uncle Justin. Justin. That's what this was all about. They hadn't talked about it until just now. Bob had used his forbidden sorcery to bring Justin back ... just so he could kill him for good. Also with black magic. He had a point � why hadn't the council showed up? They should have sensed the power used. Harry knew that Morgan and the other wardens kept an eye on him, didn't trust him not to misuse his power again. They had no reason to watch the Morningway estate, but Harry had gone there, so surely somebody had followed? Come to think of it � how had Harry known to go there? The skull talisman Morgan had given him. Why would the Warden do that? Morgan especially didn't trust him. Wouldn't it have been better to reclaim the skull himself? Turn it over to Ancient Mai, get it permanently out of Harry's hands. Morgan had said he didn't feel Harry should have been trusted with it in the first place. Why send HIM after it? The Council had to have had a reason. "Hey, Harry, you ok?" Murphy's voice startled him out of his reverie. "Huh? Murph? What're you doing here?" The detective was sitting on the barstool next to him, gazing at him with concern. She shrugged. "Trying to forget the job for a while ..." Harry started to focus a bit more on the world around him. Murpny's clothes were mussed, and was that a splash of blood? "Tough day?" The bartender deposited a glass of something amber colored in front of her. She picked it up, knocked it back, and set it down. "Yeah," was all she said. A rough day for Murphy probably meant she'd had to take somebody down. Which meant that no matter how justified, Internal Affairs would be all over her for the next few weeks. Not to mention, having to live with what she'd done. Next to Bob, Murphy was the most important person in Harry's life. If he couldn't help Bob, maybe he could help her? "You want to talk about it?" he offered. "No." She shut that down quick. Then looked over at Harry. "You?" she countered. Harry hesitated. There was so much he wanted to tell her, but the Council was so strict about not letting non-magical folks know about the magical world. What she knew already would probably get him in trouble with HIS version of IA, in the person of Morgan. But ... she was a woman. Women were better at relationships than men. At least that was the theory. Could he tell her just enough ...? "I ... kinda had a fight with somebody ... special." Murphy's eyebrows just about popped off her forehead. "Wait a minute � there's somebody special for you to have a fight with?" Her expression made it clear that she found this hard to believe. Harry scowled at her. She didn't have to act so surprised about it. It's not like ... ok, yes it was. And Murphy knew that. Murphy knew him better than anybody except Bob. But even so, Harry wasn't sure how much he wanted to reveal. For the moment, maybe it was better to not tell her all the details. Let her make whatever assumptions she wanted. "He was my tutor when I came to live with Uncle Justin. We've been friends ever since. He was there the night ... he saved my life, warned me when my Uncle tried to kill me." Murphy was confused. At first, she'd assumed a romantic relationship. Something in the way Harry had said 'special.' But maybe it wasn't? And how did this tie in with what had just happened with Morningway's body? "And you're fighting over what happened the other day?" she guessed, trying to draw him out. // Oh, you have no idea! // "Yeah, sort of." She looked at him closely. Something was definitely different. All the years she'd known him, Harry Dresden never really let anybody inside his defenses. She'd always kind of hoped that someday she'd be the one to breach that wall. But now she realized that there was already somebody there. One person in all the world that he truly trusted. OK, it was a guy. She wondered if Harry knew he was in love with this person? Or if he was still in denial. Murphy sighed. Whether it was romantic or not, it was a relationship involving two stubborn men. She'd never met Harry's 'special' person, heck, she never even had a clue he existed. But the idea of a man who wasn't stubborn, at least when it came to relationships, was laughable. Most men didn't have the common sense of a worm when it came to talking about what mattered. Her ex being a prime example ... "Let me guess, since you're not saying much. You argued, and stormed off to get drunk." Something about her attitude made Harry feel defensive. "He was the one who stormed off ..." Murphy shook her head. // Men! // "Do you know where to find him?" Harry nodded. She gave him her best 'command scowl'. "Then get your ass over there and talk to him. Arguments don't get resolved by not talking, Harry." Harry shook his head sadly. "He won't listen to me, Murph. He's got this harebrained idea that we were set up ..." Suddenly the picture snapped into place. "Harry? Harry, where'd you go?" Murphy tried to recapture his attention. More mumbling to himself than talking to her, Harry said "Morgan gave me the lead so I'd go there ... and we'd take care of Justin for them again! Hell's bells, Murphy! We WERE set up!" "Harry, what the hell are you talking about?" Take care of Justin again? Was that why the mysterious marks on Morningway's heart had vanished � was it a different body? // That's not possible! // her mind screamed. Had Harry 'killed' his uncle again? Did she want to know? // Absolutely not. // She didn't want to believe Harry capable of that. This was all getting too crazy. And yet, part of her was beginning to accept that these things were possible in Harry's world. And they explained a lot of the weirdness she'd seen in her days on the police force. Especially since she'd met Harry Dresden. "Murph, thanks, I gotta run." Harry was shrugging into his coat, and for the first time that night she noticed what he was wearing. // Nice shirt! // It was way beyond his usual drab wardrobe. // He knows! // she realized with a smirk. Suddenly it made sense that his 'special' person was a part of that other world he lived in. The one she wasn't sure she was willing to accept. It was somebody he could talk to about all the stuff he couldn't � or wouldn't � say to her. She realized that until she embraced that world, she could never truly be part of Harry's life. With a sigh, she signaled the bartender for another drink, a private toast to a lost opportunity. // Here's to you and your lover, Harry. Be happy. // ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The slamming of the door as Harry left hit Bob like a physical blow. Just as he'd forgotten how truly wonderful love could be, he'd also forgotten how desperately terrible it could be as well. So much had happened in the past 48 hours that he was beginning to think that maybe Harry wasn't the only one with burnt out neural pathways. But when Harry's body shut down, he got peaceful oblivion, a respite from the incessant pressures. Bob had no equivalent of unconsciousness. His brain operated constantly, with no 'down time,' as Harry called it. Down time ... one of the many modern terms Harry had introduced into his vocabulary. It had something to do with those computers that seemed to rule so much of the modern world. Gods above, what he wouldn't give for some 'down time' himself. To sleep, perchance to dream? Undoubtedly, he'd dream of Harry. Of truly being with him, flesh to flesh. Funny, how that had become such an overriding passion. Looking back, he could see now that his love for Harry had always had that aspect as a possibility, although one which he never expected to be able to realize. His appreciation of Harry's physical form, tall and lean; that charming rakish smile that he didn't use nearly often enough. Even his longstanding wish that Harry would dress better. He'd teased, hinting that he wanted to see the women a sharply-dressed Harry would attract. But truly, it was Harry himself that Bob had wanted to see. And now he'd shared that beautiful body, dressed and undressed. He'd been able to touch Harry in the most intimate manner, bringing them both to an ecstasy of pleasure he'd all but forgotten. He couldn't give that up now, not without a fight. It occurred to him, now that he was a bit calmer, not panicked by being forcefully thrown out of Harry's body just as things were getting interesting, that Harry was probably right. His collapse didn't necessarily mean that they couldn't 'share' anymore. They would just have to be careful, not push things too hard. Damnation, why had he been such a cranky old goat? And where had that self-defeating nonsense about the Council come from? It was his own guilt. For the first time in centuries, he'd felt real pleasure and real joy. Didn't he want these things? He felt guilty, because he'd counted on his Curse to escape death at Justin's hands. Curses were supposed to be punishment. But hadn't he paid for his crimes? He truly wasn't the same being he'd been all those years ago. But the whole idea of an 'eternal' curse was beyond the ken of the humans who had so cursed him. They wanted him to suffer, and suffer he had. But Harry had brought him an end to that eternal suffering. If he was 'condemned' to eternal purgatory, why not see it as half-life instead of half-death? Just as he was beginning to come to terms with all this, Bob felt a disturbance in the wards protecting Harry's home. Somebody had come in while he was preoccupied. "Hrothbert of Bainbridge, I Summon thee!" // Not again! // Bob felt himself almost going into a panic even as he materialized and saw the source of the command. "Morgan!" Somehow the name came out full of venom. The warden smiled dangerously. "Hello, 'Bob.'" The way he said it made Harry's affectionate nickname into a demeaning insult. Bob frowned, wishing heartily to put this bully into his place. "What is your business here, Warden? Why do you Summon me?" Morgan laughed. "You've finally crossed the line, ghost. You are hereby summoned to appear before the Council tomorrow evening. Have Dresden bring the skull to the address I've left on his desk. I'd just take it now myself, but apparently you two were at least smart enough to place some additional wards on it after the last time it was 'stolen.' Do not make me come after you tomorrow, ghost." Morgan glowered at Bob, then vanished. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry wasn't surprised to find the place empty when he returned. It had gotten dark, so he turned on a couple of lights, making noise so Bob would know he was back. He wasn't sure whether the ghost would show himself, or if he'd have to prod. He hoped it wouldn't take too much coaxing. One thing he'd vowed long ago was to never arbitrarily 'Summon' Bob as he had the power to. It had always seemed an unfair advantage. Bob was his friend ... now his lover. You didn't treat people you loved like property. That had been Uncle Justin's way ... not his. When Bob didn't appear on his own, Harry went over to his desk and gently picked up the skull. Before he could say anything, however, his eyes noticed that somebody had scrawled an address on the top page of his notepad. "What the ...?" he muttered, reaching for the pad. "Who got in here while I was gone?" He was more than a little afraid. Only a few people could have gotten past his wards without an invitation. And if what he'd figured out was right ... "It was Morgan, Harry." Bob had materialized in answer to his question. The ghost looked ... like he'd seen a ghost. "I've been summoned before the council ..." Harry reached out instinctively, his hand passing through Bob's arm. He met Bob's eyes, willing strength and comfort into that gaze, until at last Bob nodded, his ghostly hand caressing Harry's face. Harry could almost feel it. "We've been set up, Bob. But not the way you thought. What if Mai got wind of 'Morningway Light'? We both told at my trial that Uncle Justin had plans for 'clearing the deadwood' from the Council. One of the reasons they let me go with just a slap on the wrist was because I'd done their dirty work for them, taking out what they already knew was a threat." Bob was beginning to follow Harry's chain of logic. "If they did know about the replacement, they could guess what the real Justin had in mind when he created the replacement. And that it would require my services ..." Harry nodded. "Bob, did you wonder why I showed up at the house just then?" "I presumed it was Justin's doing somehow." "It was Morgan's doing, Bob." That got a wide-eyed look. "Morgan's?" "He gave me a talisman keyed to your skull. Said it had been shielded, and that when the talisman glowed, I'd know where to go. I was too busy being worried about you to question why Morgan would help me when he could have 'rescued' you for himself or for Mai." "Morgan 'helped' you because the council wanted you to find me ..." Harry nodded. "I figure it like this. They knew Morningway was trying to come back from the dead. To do that he needed you. On your own, you might just be tempted by the offer of returning to life. But if I was in danger, you'd made it pretty clear whose side you'd be on. Even if you did have me scared there for a while ..." Bob grimaced. "Harry, believe me, if there had been any way I could have avoided that ..." Harry smiled softly. "I know, Bob." He held his hand over the appearance of Bob's. Again, he could almost feel something there. As if their body-sharing had begun to build a connection between them. Bob broke the moment. "But one thing I don't understand, Harry. Why not have Morgan come in and reclaim the skull, avoiding the whole possibility of me choosing the wrong side?" Harry thought a moment. "Stealing the skull wasn't technically a crime as far as the council is concerned. Hell, wizards have been stealing magical treasures from each other for as long as we've been around. It's a tried and true way of gaining power. There was nothing Morgan could have done. Besides, Uncle Justin was pretty powerful. His wards would have kept even Morgan out. I'd guess that only Mai herself could have gotten past them. And she wouldn't risk herself or her reputation by killing him. This way, Morningway gets really dead, and not only is she completely untainted, but they can pin the use of black magic on us. Kills two birds with one stone." "On ME, Harry. I was the one summoned, not both of us. You are just ordered to deliver my skull to that address ..." Harry could see the fear in those pale blue eyes. When you're already damned for eternity, what else can they do to you? Take away the one thing that makes your damnation bearable. "If they think I�m letting you go without a fight, they've got another thing coming," Harry bristled. "No! Harry, I can't let you ... please don't do anything stupid! It won't do us any good if you get cursed too!" The pleading in Bob's voice touched Harry's heart. But he knew he couldn't promise. "Bob, I'd rather be damned with you than live without you!" The pain of their separation was more than Bob could bear. Without even thinking about it, he melded into Harry, needing the warmth and comfort of Harry's arms. He couldn't possibly let harm come to Harry on his behalf, and yet he understood completely Harry's need to protect him. And that's exactly what Harry did, pulling Bob close into the comfort and protection of his arms as he stumbled into his favorite chair. // Nobody's going to get cursed, Bob. We'll figure something out tomorrow. I promise you. We'll figure it out together. Ok? // They stayed together, just holding close, gently petting, until a certain measure of calmness returned. Bob suddenly realized what he'd done. // Harry? Are you all right? With me here? // Once again he felt the delicious tickle of Harry's mental laughter. // Kind of obvious, Bob. I wouldn't push it too long, but yeah, I seem to be fine. // Remembering their afternoon adventure, Bob realized that Harry was wearing the new shirt. He gave in to temptation, letting his hands roam over the soft, suede-like fabric. // Quite lovely, // he sighed. Harry caught Bob's roaming hand, lifting it to his lips for a gentle kiss. "I love you, Bob." Somehow, it needed to be said out loud. Bob felt his insides melting. He stole his fingers away from Harry, reaching up to caress that beloved face. // And I you, Harry. // For a little longer, they just sat there, sharing gentle touches and an internal warmth that wrapped around them, healing and soothing. Joined like this, there was no room for doubt or misunderstanding. Their love was something real, tangible. It occurred to Harry that this was what 'normal' people seemed to be looking for when they joined their bodies in sex. But that temporary external union could never compare to this knowing. It was Bob who finally broke the moment. // Harry, dear. I can feel how tired you are. If we are going to face the Council tomorrow, you need your strength. // // mmm ... you too, Bob. Been a crazy day for both of us. // Harry was surprised to sense wistfulness coming from Bob. // Sadly, I do not sleep, Harry. I thought you knew that? // // Not ever? // Harry asked incredulously. Bob shook his head, realized the silliness of that in this situation � although Harry had felt it. // So what do you do all night? // // Mainly, watch you sleep. Watch over you, protecting you. I have since you were a young boy. // // Oh! // Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of that. Bob smiled. // Lately it's gotten a lot more interesting ... I can't seem to take my eyes off you. // Harry felt himself blushing. It still surprised him to know how much Bob appreciated his body. // OK, we'd better call it a night before things get too interesting. // Bob's sigh was felt more than heard. // You are right, of course. After what happened this afternoon ... // // Yeah ... don't want to push it. // Reluctantly, Bob ghosted out of Harry's body, reforming beside him. "Hey. You're still wearing the old suit." Harry complained. Bob glanced down at his apparition. "What with worrying about you fainting, then worrying about Morgan and the Council ... I haven't had a minute to think about it!" Harry laughed. "Bob, I'm just teasing. Truth is, you look great. I always kind of enjoyed the view ..." That got a couple of raised eyebrows. "Harry? I didn't think you'd thought of me 'that way/" Harry felt himself blushing again. This was getting to be a habit, one he'd have to get over. "Not consciously ... but looking back now, I can definitely see that I noticed things, little things." Bob didn't quite know what to say to that. Luckily, Harry continued, sparing them both that line of conversation. "I think you should stick with this tomorrow. It's what they're used to. If they knew about 'us', they'd use it against us." "Agreed. Shall we call it a night, then?" In lieu of an answer, Harry got up and shut off the lights, heading upstairs to his loft bedroom. As he was changing, he called back to Bob, "Just keep the shoes off my bed. I know you don't actually walk on the ground, but it still bugs me." Bob vanished and reformed sitting on Harry's bed minus the suit. In its place was a set of silk pajamas, the same color as his eyes. It wasn't overtly sexy, nor was it intended to be. Rather, it was simply comfortable, suited to the situation, and somehow elegant. Harry turned around and gasped at the sight of Bob, waiting for him on his bed, toes wiggling."Much better!" he said with a grin. Bob smiled as Harry shut off the last light and settled under the covers. But although he was tired, Harry wasn't quite ready to fall asleep. "Hey Bob?" he asked softly. "Yes, Harry." "All those nights you watched over me ... did you ever ... you know ... fantasize about me?" Bob hesitated before answering. "Not as such. More than anything, I longed to touch you, to hold you. To love you with my heart. To be close to you ..." Harry patted the bed beside him. "Come close now." Somewhat unsure, Bob rematerialized himself lying down next to Harry. Harry rolled over on to his side facing Bob. He grabbed the pillow from the other side of the bed and parked it next to him, right through Bob's chest. With a sigh, he settled down, his arm wrapped over the pillow. "At least I can pretend I'm holding you." Bob had to chuckle at the almost child-like innocence in Harry's dark eyes. A child clutching its dolly in sleep. That was the trust he saw in Harry's eyes. It made him feel so special, so needed. There had to be a way to beat the council tomorrow. And then, to beat them again, find a way he could be real, solid, so he could truly hold Harry in his arms. There had to be a way. continue to Chapter 6 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 5 |