The Dresden Files / Bob / 36. Spin
Title: Habit Forming
Fandom: The Dresden Files (tv-verse)
Characters: Bob, Harry
Prompt: 36. Spin
Word Count: 814
Rating: G
Summary: Harry notices something about Bob.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me. Just passing through.
Table: Here There be Ghosts
Harry absently bounced the eraser end of his pencil against the worktable as he waited for Bob to finish. The ghost leaned over an array of photographs, handwritten notes, and newspaper clippings, comparing one to the other as he searched for a clue to the problem at hand. The long, pale fingers of his right hand idly twisted the ornate ring that he wore on the left as he perused each item in its turn.
It was the sort of habit that most people did without ever realizing it. Harry had quite a few of his own, like chewing on his thumbnail when trying to work out an especially difficult spell or potion. That one was less likely to get him killed than his tendency to throw flippant remarks and snappy comebacks at the bad guys when they backed him into the proverbial corner. Not that the monsters trying to eat his face ever appreciated his witty if somewhat fatalistic sense of humor. It seemed that everyone was a critic these days.
Thinking back on it, Harry realized that toying with the rings he wore had always been one of Bob's more persistent mannerisms. Which begged an entirely different question altogether - why wear them at all? It wasn't as if the ghost could actually use one ring of power much less two, yet as far as Harry knew, Bob had always worn a ring on the index finger of his right hand and a smaller, almost identical piece on his left.
"Harry, if you wouldn't mind?"
"Hmm?"
"The tapping. It's distracting."
"Oh." Harry set the pencil aside. "Sorry."
"Thank you."
"Sure." He leaned forward in his chair. "Anything?"
"Nothing that stands out but there may be a…" Bob suddenly paused, frowning. "Yes?"
"What?"
"Is there something wrong with my attire? A spot on my lapel or a color that disagrees with you?"
"No. Why?"
"Because you are staring." As he spoke, Bob gave the smaller ring another unconscious little twist, turning it full circle on his finger.
"Was I?"
"You were. Would you care to enlighten me as to what is so fascinating?"
"I was looking at your rings."
Surprised, Bob glanced down at the silver and black onyx jewelry. "What of them?"
"I was just wondering. Why wear them?"
"Why not wear them?"
"No reason, I guess." Harry shrugged. "It just seemed a little odd, that's all. I mean, sometimes you go through more wardrobe changes than a Tony Awards show host but your rings never change. They're always the same, no matter what you're wearing."
"They are a part of me."
Harry's gaze automatically shifted to the cuffs of the impeccably tailored sleeves that concealed the ugly gray manacles that encircled the ghost's wrists and ensorcelled his soul. "You mean like those things?" he asked grimly. "They're part of the curse?"
"No. I can remove them if I wish. I simply do not choose to do so."
"They're rings of power, aren't they?"
"They were once."
"A reminder of happier times?"
"And worse." Regret and remorse tinged the ghost's words and shadowed his expression.
"Sorry," Harry sighed. Dammit, he'd done it again. He'd somehow managed to stick his foot in his mouth and upset the old spook. "I didn't mean to bring up a sore subject."
"There is no need to apologize. You are the first to have noticed their presence much less remark upon their purpose." Not entirely surprising, considering the young wizard was the first mortal to have shown him any kindness in over 800 years.
Bob held up his right hand, fingers splayed, to display the heavy ring it bore. "This is indeed a shadow of my own ring of power. Its purpose was not very different from the one you yourself wear," he explained with a slight nod toward the unadorned silver ring on Harry's own finger.
"So the other one is just another version of the same thing," concluded Harry.
"Yes." Bob looked down at the identical, smaller ring. He hesitated a moment, as if debating, then continued very softly, "It was my gift to Winifred on the day we were betrothed. For all the good it did either of us."
Oh, damn. Oh, Bob…! Harry held up his hands in a helpless shrug of apology. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize … I mean, I didn't think-"
"--to hurt me? Yes, I know." The ghost offered him a sad little smile. "Thank you, Harry." He suddenly thrust both hands behind his back, out of sight, and clasped them tightly together. "Now then, I believe I may have discovered the connection we are looking for," Bob said briskly, turning once more to the problem at hand. "If you would care to bring your keen powers of observation to the evidence, you might take a closer look at this white mist in the photograph of the churchyard..."
Fandom: The Dresden Files (tv-verse)
Characters: Bob, Harry
Prompt: 36. Spin
Word Count: 814
Rating: G
Summary: Harry notices something about Bob.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me. Just passing through.
Table: Here There be Ghosts
Harry absently bounced the eraser end of his pencil against the worktable as he waited for Bob to finish. The ghost leaned over an array of photographs, handwritten notes, and newspaper clippings, comparing one to the other as he searched for a clue to the problem at hand. The long, pale fingers of his right hand idly twisted the ornate ring that he wore on the left as he perused each item in its turn.
It was the sort of habit that most people did without ever realizing it. Harry had quite a few of his own, like chewing on his thumbnail when trying to work out an especially difficult spell or potion. That one was less likely to get him killed than his tendency to throw flippant remarks and snappy comebacks at the bad guys when they backed him into the proverbial corner. Not that the monsters trying to eat his face ever appreciated his witty if somewhat fatalistic sense of humor. It seemed that everyone was a critic these days.
Thinking back on it, Harry realized that toying with the rings he wore had always been one of Bob's more persistent mannerisms. Which begged an entirely different question altogether - why wear them at all? It wasn't as if the ghost could actually use one ring of power much less two, yet as far as Harry knew, Bob had always worn a ring on the index finger of his right hand and a smaller, almost identical piece on his left.
"Harry, if you wouldn't mind?"
"Hmm?"
"The tapping. It's distracting."
"Oh." Harry set the pencil aside. "Sorry."
"Thank you."
"Sure." He leaned forward in his chair. "Anything?"
"Nothing that stands out but there may be a…" Bob suddenly paused, frowning. "Yes?"
"What?"
"Is there something wrong with my attire? A spot on my lapel or a color that disagrees with you?"
"No. Why?"
"Because you are staring." As he spoke, Bob gave the smaller ring another unconscious little twist, turning it full circle on his finger.
"Was I?"
"You were. Would you care to enlighten me as to what is so fascinating?"
"I was looking at your rings."
Surprised, Bob glanced down at the silver and black onyx jewelry. "What of them?"
"I was just wondering. Why wear them?"
"Why not wear them?"
"No reason, I guess." Harry shrugged. "It just seemed a little odd, that's all. I mean, sometimes you go through more wardrobe changes than a Tony Awards show host but your rings never change. They're always the same, no matter what you're wearing."
"They are a part of me."
Harry's gaze automatically shifted to the cuffs of the impeccably tailored sleeves that concealed the ugly gray manacles that encircled the ghost's wrists and ensorcelled his soul. "You mean like those things?" he asked grimly. "They're part of the curse?"
"No. I can remove them if I wish. I simply do not choose to do so."
"They're rings of power, aren't they?"
"They were once."
"A reminder of happier times?"
"And worse." Regret and remorse tinged the ghost's words and shadowed his expression.
"Sorry," Harry sighed. Dammit, he'd done it again. He'd somehow managed to stick his foot in his mouth and upset the old spook. "I didn't mean to bring up a sore subject."
"There is no need to apologize. You are the first to have noticed their presence much less remark upon their purpose." Not entirely surprising, considering the young wizard was the first mortal to have shown him any kindness in over 800 years.
Bob held up his right hand, fingers splayed, to display the heavy ring it bore. "This is indeed a shadow of my own ring of power. Its purpose was not very different from the one you yourself wear," he explained with a slight nod toward the unadorned silver ring on Harry's own finger.
"So the other one is just another version of the same thing," concluded Harry.
"Yes." Bob looked down at the identical, smaller ring. He hesitated a moment, as if debating, then continued very softly, "It was my gift to Winifred on the day we were betrothed. For all the good it did either of us."
Oh, damn. Oh, Bob…! Harry held up his hands in a helpless shrug of apology. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize … I mean, I didn't think-"
"--to hurt me? Yes, I know." The ghost offered him a sad little smile. "Thank you, Harry." He suddenly thrust both hands behind his back, out of sight, and clasped them tightly together. "Now then, I believe I may have discovered the connection we are looking for," Bob said briskly, turning once more to the problem at hand. "If you would care to bring your keen powers of observation to the evidence, you might take a closer look at this white mist in the photograph of the churchyard..."