Title: Long Distance
Fandom: Dresden Files
Characters: Graylin, Harry
Requested by: joonscribble
Who asked for: 10 years after 'Child's Play'
Summary: Graylin gives Harry a ring.
Word Count: 207
Harry Dresden stumbled down the stairs to the phone, cursing it for ringing so early. Who calls at seven in the morning, really? Crazy people, that’s who.
“’Lo?” he mumbled into the receiver.
“’Arry?” A spritely voiced British girl asked. “You there?”
Harry waved to Murphy, who was leaning over the railing of the loft anxiously. She got the message that it wasn’t the station calling for her and went back to bed.
“Hey, Graylin,” he said, blinking the sleep away. “What’s up?”
“Oh, ‘arry, did I wake you?” she asked. “Time zones are impossible.”
Harry often wondered how someone could start off their lives pronouncing H’s and then suddenly decide to stop. “Don’t worry about it. You okay?”
“M’great! I got your birthday present today!” she exclaimed.
“I sent it two weeks ago,” he said.
“Mail system is bullocks,” she explained. “Anyway, I love it! I’ve been driving the cat crazy with it.”
“You’re supposed to wear it,” Harry pointed out. “To bring wisdom and spiritual awakening.”
“It’s shiny, the cat’s mad for it,” she insisted. “Anyway, I wanted to thank you and I need to tell you what happened the other day...”
Harry settled in to listen, writing off sleep as definitely less important than this. He did hope, however, that she was paying for the call.
Title: Big Box Retail
Fandom: The Dresden Files
Characters: Harry, Bob
Requested by: joonscribble
Who asked for: 24 hours before 'Some Assembly Required'
Summary: Bob and Harry go shopping.
Word Count: 209
“How about this one? Cherry is a noble wood.”
Harry sighed. “It’s also an expensive wood, Bob. We’re on a budget.”
“We seem to constantly be on a budget,” the ghost said, with a frown.
“Welcome to my life. How about that one?”
“It looks rather flimsy,” Bob said, critically. “It would give way under the weight of the many things you will no doubt pile on it. This one?”
“Expensive,” Harry reminded him.
“If this store is too expensive, why are we perusing it?” Bob said, with a sigh. “Frankly, I don’t know how you navigate it. It is far too large. I suppose that restaurant over there is keep everyone alive while they get lost in search of furniture?”
Harry smiled. “Bob, this is the 21st Century. 21st Century, I’d like you to meet Bob. We’re getting this one. It’s not like you’re actually going to use it.”
The ghost trailed Harry, silently marveling at how he seemed to know exactly where the cashiers were in this massive building. “In my day, we would have just built the table.”
“When you can use hand tools, Bob, you can build yourself a table,” Harry replied.
“That was uncalled for.”
“Yeah,” Harry admitted. “Sorry. We’ll get to put it together though, Bob. That should be fun.”
“I can hardly wait.”
Title: No Rest for the Wicked
Fandom: Dresden Files/Doctor Who
Characters: Harry, 10, Martha, Jack
Requested by: donutsweeper
Who asked for: Sometime after 'The Seventh Law'
Summary: Harry gets another visit from time travellers.
Word Count: 391
I was about half an hour into my well-deserved rest when dinosaurs invaded my home. Well, that was what it sounded like. A dinosaur in an old B-movie when it’s fighting with the incongruent cavemen. I woke with a start, listening for a second, realized what was happening and ran down the stairs. Aside from movie dinosaurs, which I don’t doubt could possibly arrive at my place someday, knowing my life, there was only one thing that made that sound. Sure enough, when I reached the bottom of the stairs, there was a large 1950’s police box in my living room.
“Hell’s Bells,” I muttered, waiting.
The door opened and a young man in a striped suit and long trench coat stepped out. I wasn’t expecting that. Nor was I expecting him to look at me with a cat’s grin and exclaim, ‘’Ello, ‘arry!’ as though we were old friends.
“But you said magic wasn’t real!” A girl said, stepping out after him. She wasn’t who I was expecting either. She was a pretty, black girl, with a maroon leather jacket and hairstyle that seemed to be modeled on a pineapple. “With those witches.”
“What witches?” an American voice asked. It belonged to a man lounging in the doorway to the phonebox. He had a blue military coat on. He grinned a perfect, white-toothed grin at me and winked. “I went out with a witch once. Total hag. When you’re drunk though, everyone looks good. Fun night, but she cursed my - “
“Jack,” the trench coated man interrupted. He turned to the pineapple girl. “It wasn’t real with those witches. That was science.” He gestured to me. “This is magic.”
“Where’s the Doctor?” I asked, sleepily.
“Oh,” the trench coated man said. “Right. I was the other me last we met. I’m the Doctor.” I opened my mouth and he held up a hand. “I know I don’t look like the Doctor, but I am. I had to regenerate. You are Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, you once saved my life with a drumstick and when you were 12, you made it snow in your living room and were grounded for a month.”
I opened and closed my mouth a few times. “You changed your accent,” I said, finally.
“Yes, well, sometimes you need to do that. Anyway, time to save the world!”
I blinked at him. “I’ll get some pants.”
Fandom: Dresden Files (Books)/due South
Characters: Harry, Dief, Mouse, Mister
Requested by: donutsweeper
Who asked for: Dief & Mouse interaction
Summary: Harry is pet sitting.
Word Count: 308
Spoilers: Nothing major, Mouse first appears in Blood Rites and there is a brief reference to an event that I think happens in Dead Beat (?) but no details that are spoilery in any way.
"It'll be okay, I promise," I told the wolf at my door. I then realized he couldn't actually hear me. It didn't stop me from continuing to talk to him, though. "I mean, it's just a bullet in the shoulder. A little surgery, he'll be fine. I've been shot dozens of times and I'm still here."
I went over and knelt down beside Diefenbaker, who was staring resolutely at the banged up mess that was my door. I didn't know if he was waiting for Fraser to come through it or for me to open it so he could go and find him. Either way, he was very determined. I reached out and petted him with my bad hand, figuring if he decided to bite me, there wasn't much more that could be done to it.
He whimpered pathetically and it was almost enough to take him down to the hospital and kick and scream until they let me take him to the Mountie. Across the room, Mouse finished up the dog food I had set out for him, after letting Mister take his fill. Dief wouldn't eat. He was either on a hunger strike or just didn't actually eat dog food.
"Row?" Mouse asked the wolf, sitting down beside him.
"Eeeee," Dief replied.
Mouse licked his ears and thumped his tail into Dief's legs a couple of times. The wolf lay down, pressed up across the door like a welcome mat. Mouse made a growling sound that seemed to say 'it's okay, I'll wait with you' and he lay down next to Diefenbaker, facing the opposite way to have both directions covered in case of attacks.
I shook my head at this show of canine fraternity and went over to do some damage control with Mister. He didn't approve of having a wolf in the house. "I'm with you, man. Dogs are weird."
Title: New Experiences
Fandom: Dresden Files (books)/Doctor Who
Characters: Harry, Bob the skull, Jack, 9, Rose
Who asked for: A rather detailed list of elements including: Bob hitting on Rose, Jack hitting on Harry and a slimy cerulean monster.
Summary: Never let Jack flirt with a slimy cerulean monster.
Word Count: 536
Spoilers: Vague references to 'Death Masks' and 'Proven Guilty'. Nothing spoilery.
I knocked on the top of the skull sitting amongst a pile of romance novels. He probably wasn't going to like that, but this was an emergency. Agonizingly slow, just to annoy me, the lights in the skull's eyes lit up.
"Hey Harry," he intoned, lazily. "Who's tap-dancing upstairs?" His eye lights glowed a bit brighter. "Ooh, who's the hottie?"
"Bob!" I objected.
"Seriously, Harry, you keep collecting comely young girls, we could start charging admission."
"Is he talking 'bout me?" The blonde girl standing at the bottom of the ladder asked. She looked over her shoulder. "Wait, is he a skull?"
"Don't let that put you off, baby," Bob said.
"That skull is hitting on me," Rose told the men next to her, incredulously.
"Everything that's happened today and you're really that surprised we've met a talking skull?" The Doctor asked her.
"Listen, being chased around by strange blue creatures? Done that," Rose insisted. "Being hit on by a talking skull in the secret cellar of a wizard? New experience!"
"It's not blue," I said. "It's cerulean. Can we focus here, Bob? There is a cerulean monster eating my couch as we speak. I like that couch!"
The creature thumped around upstairs some more, howling away. The three people at the ladder tightened their grip on on their respective weapons. Jack, the third member of the time traveling party, was wielding my gun after running out of bullets for his own. Rose had grabbed Fidelacchius when we came running through my living room, making me wonder for a moment if she was the one I was supposed to give it to. She was holding the sword cane up like a club, though and I figured if she was the next Fist of God, she'd probably know to pull it from the sheath. The Doctor had a small stick-thing with a buzzing blue light on the top of it.
"Is it slimy or sticky?" Bob asked, still staring at Rose's ass.
"Does that matter?" I wondered.
"No, not if you don't care whether it eats you or gets really, really mad at you," he replied.
"Can't get much madder than this!" Jack called.
"Okay, okay," I said. "Poll time: slimy or sticky, guys?"
'Slimy' said the Doctor, Jack and I. 'Sticky' said Rose.
"3-1 it's slimy," I summed up. "You can't kill it with fire, it really doesn't like buzzy blue lights and bullets don't do anything."
"We just haven't shot it enough," Jack objected. "You shoot anything enough, it has an effect."
"I know a cop you'd like," I said. "Actually, remind me never to introduce you to her."
"I'm touched, but there's plenty of me to go around," Jack smarmed, with a wink at me. "No need to be greedy."
"Would you stop flirting?" the Doctor demanded, as I blushed despite my best efforts.
"If you hadn't been flirting, it wouldn't have gotten into the flat in the first place!" Rose added.
The trap door started to rattle. "Bob?" I yelled.
"I want 24 hours," Bob declared.
"You can have 30 minutes and you can't go near Rose," I said.
"What?" We all demanded.
"Sing. They love music. Unless it's sticky, in which case you should never, ever sing."
We all looked at each other and simultaneously burst into 'Row, row, row your boat'. The thumping stopped.
"New experience," Rose muttered.
Title: Meet Cute
Characters: Mal, Zoe
Requested by: _medley_
Who asked for: Mal and Zoe
Summary: Mal meets Zoe. Zoe meets Mal.
Word Count: 400
Above Mal's head a large flare went off in the sky, lighting up the trench he was in as though it were high noon. The man beside him winced and covered his eyes while Mal took the opportunity to take in the surroundings more clearly. Browncoats lined the trench in both directions, most passing the time as best they could. Some tried to sleep, others read and prayed. A hearty game of poker was happening several yards away.
There was a sudden commotion down the trench and Mal saw a figure somersault over the edge and collapse into the pit. It lay there, unmoving. He hurried down to it. He knelt down to see if the person was alright and found the action end of a gun pointed at his nose.
"Ai ya! Relax!" He exclaimed, holding up his hands in peace.
"You're a browncoat," the owner of the gun stated. It sounded like a woman, though her face was hidden by the collar of her coat.
"Who else is gonna be in this godforsaken hole in the ground?" Mal snapped. He pushed the gun from his face and the collar from hers. "Yer hurt."
"I'm fine," The woman said, through gritted teeth.
"You got a piece of metal sticking out of your forehead," Mal pointed out. "You ain't fine. I'll get a medic."
"Don't need one," the woman insisted.
She took a firm hold of the shrapnel in her head and pulled it out with barely a flinch. Mal looped a bandanna from around his neck and pressed it to the wound.
"Jesus!" he exclaimed. He stole her gun with his free hand.
She pushed the bandanna away, cursing, and tried to stand up, but Mal held her down. It was quite a task to keep her down. Her hands gripped around his wrists and they were freezing.
"Set," he ordered and she stopped fighting with him. As soon as he removed his grip, however, she was trying to get up again. "I will beat you unconscious with your own gun if you don't stay still."
She finally relaxed and he let her go. She stayed still. He pulled his leather gloves off and offered them to her. She refused them but he just kept poking her in the arm with them until she took them and put them on her frozen hands.
"Thank you," she said, reluctantly.
"No problem." He pointed to himself. "Malcolm Reynolds."
"Zoe Alleyne," she replied. "Give me back my gun."
Fandom: due South
Characters: Stanley, Damian and Barbara Kowalski
Requested by: joonscribble
Who asked for: RayK's parents
Summary: It's hard to say goodbye.
Word Count: 300
Spoilers: None. Set pre-Seaon 3.
"I don't see why you have to change your name," Damian Kowalski insisted. "It's a good name."
Stanley Kowalski, soon to be known as the new Ray Vecchio, sighed heavily into the phone and banged his head against the wall a few times. "Dad, it's not my choice, okay? It's undercover. It's not cover if it's me."
"It sounds very dangerous," Barbara fussed. "I don't like you doing it, Stanley. You could be hurt!"
Stan smiled slightly. "I'll be fine, Mom. It's a good career move. New place, new name, new job, new everything."
"You don't need a new anything," Damian stated. "You should be happy with what you have."
"I've already said I'd do it," Stan pointed out. "I'm just calling to let you know what's up. You can't contact me as me. You gotta do it as Ray Vecchio. No letters, no sweaters in the mail, no phone calls. Got that?"
"We'll still be your parents, though, right?" Barbara asked, anxiously.
"You'll be my parents," Stan explained. "But you won't be Ray Vecchio's parents."
"Oh, this is all very confusing," Barbara said.
"It's not confusing," Damian snorted. "Our son has decided he doesn't want to be our son anymore. He wants to be someone else."
"Damian!" Barbara scolded.
"Listen, I gotta go," Stan said, dumping a few things into a duffel bag violently. "I gotta be debriefed in a hour. I'll talk to you soon."
"Remember to eat well," Barbara said, voice rising as though Stan was actually moving away from her. "And wear your long underwear."
Stan smiled. "I will, Mom."
"Don't do anything stupid," Damian added.
"I'll try," Stan accepted. "Love you, guys."
"I love you too, Stanley," Barbara replied.
"Uh," his father grunted.
Stan clicked the phone off and stared at it for a moment before he zipped up the duffel bag, threw it over his shoulder and headed off to his new life.