The Cookie Fairy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alcesverdes) wrote2007-07-16 11:54 pm
alcesverdes) wrote2007-07-16 11:54 pm
Entry tags:
[The Dresden Files (TV)] Leave It As A Theory
Title: Leave It As A Theory
Fandom: The Dresden Files (TV)
Characters: Harry and Bob.
Spoilers: None.
Rating: PG13
Lenght ~700 words.
Summary: The dangers of joking around people who like intellectual challenges.
Author's Note: Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
dresdenflashfic 'bound' challenge.
-
There are many non-lethal drawbacks of being a wizard that the practitioners of the Art have faced through the millennia. One of them is that, for certain potions to work, they have to handle the ingredients with, well, their hands. It has to be that way so that magic can flow straight from the wizard to the mix. Most of the time, however, it's hard to come to terms with the idea because the aforementioned ingredients tend to be the kind most people over the age of five would try their best to avoid, and if avoiding isn't an option, they'd be filled with a very obvious feeling of repugnance.
Another problem with being wizard is an inherent curiosity towards everything. Sometimes, both of them happen to collide.
But, which one is stronger?
Currently, Harry Dresden is making faces at the green goo between his index finger and his thumb, the remanent of the salamander eyeball recently dropped at the bubbly pot on his working bench, which is also the same goo he keeps stretching while opening and closing his fingers repeatedly. “Bob, are you sure this is the right recipe? Because it seems more like something taken out from children's stories about witches.”
“Yet, you seem quite happy playing with that,” Bob says. “It's good to see you let out your inner child from time to time. Now, answering to your question: yes, I am certain that's the right recipe. Also, those stories you mention do have basis in truth.”
“Except for the part where I'm not a witch,” Harry says, jokingly.
“You could be, though” Bob says with a deadpan expression. “As far as I know, a non-magical sex change is quite possible in this time and age.”
Harry snorts. “Yeah, right.” He takes his fingers to his nose. “Ew! This smells awful!”
Bob tries no to smile. “Don't overdo it with the child thing or I won't let you play with the stove again,” he says trying to summon his best mentor-like tone of voice.
“It won't happen again, I promise.” Harry cleans his hand with a cloth he has on he working bench for that effect. Then, he sets his eyes on the pot's bubbles. He's quiet and thoughtful for a while and, suddenly, he says, “Can you imagine it? Harriet Dresden, Witch for Hire. I think it has a ring. Do you think it has a ring, Bob?”
“I could imagine it if I wanted to.”
“But you don't want to.”
“Well spotted. Begin to stir the potion clockwise until it turns bright blue. Slowly.”
“Okay.” Harry does as Bob says, his eyes still fixed on the pot's content. “But, really, what would it be to have, you know, boobs?”
Bob rolls his eyes. “Oh, dear heaven! Harry, I was just making a joke!”
“And I'm just working on a hypothesis. But let me tell you, if I was a woman, I would never wear high heels. Though I'm sure I'd look quite good on a miniskirt.”
Bob sighs. “If you really want to try it temporarily, I can tell you how.”
That certainly gets Harry's attention. “Huh?”
“Being a woman. I know a way, but it's rather... messy.”
Harry raises and eyebrow.
Bob continues. “One of the ingredients has a lot to do with real women and the phases of the moon.”
Harry gapes at the ghost.
“I'm sure it would be easy for you to get it, Harry. If I may suggest you start by asking Lt. Murphy? Judging by the mood she was in when she came by this morning...”
“Are you crazy, Bob? I can't possibly ask Murphy for—for that! She'll kill me!”
“You could also obtain some from a public restroom, but then it'd be harder to get a decent amount from the same woman.”
Harry spends the next several seconds trying to articulate a coherent phrase. He finally manages it. “Bob, you know what? I think we'll all be happier if this topic is out of bounds for us from now on.”
“I happen to agree. Stir slower or you'll end up with a mess and you'll have to do everything from the top again,” Bob adds after a pause.
“I'm on it, I'm on it!”
And, thus, they never speak of the matter again.
Fandom: The Dresden Files (TV)
Characters: Harry and Bob.
Spoilers: None.
Rating: PG13
Lenght ~700 words.
Summary: The dangers of joking around people who like intellectual challenges.
Author's Note: Written for the
dresdenflashfic 'bound' challenge.-
There are many non-lethal drawbacks of being a wizard that the practitioners of the Art have faced through the millennia. One of them is that, for certain potions to work, they have to handle the ingredients with, well, their hands. It has to be that way so that magic can flow straight from the wizard to the mix. Most of the time, however, it's hard to come to terms with the idea because the aforementioned ingredients tend to be the kind most people over the age of five would try their best to avoid, and if avoiding isn't an option, they'd be filled with a very obvious feeling of repugnance.
Another problem with being wizard is an inherent curiosity towards everything. Sometimes, both of them happen to collide.
But, which one is stronger?
Currently, Harry Dresden is making faces at the green goo between his index finger and his thumb, the remanent of the salamander eyeball recently dropped at the bubbly pot on his working bench, which is also the same goo he keeps stretching while opening and closing his fingers repeatedly. “Bob, are you sure this is the right recipe? Because it seems more like something taken out from children's stories about witches.”
“Yet, you seem quite happy playing with that,” Bob says. “It's good to see you let out your inner child from time to time. Now, answering to your question: yes, I am certain that's the right recipe. Also, those stories you mention do have basis in truth.”
“Except for the part where I'm not a witch,” Harry says, jokingly.
“You could be, though” Bob says with a deadpan expression. “As far as I know, a non-magical sex change is quite possible in this time and age.”
Harry snorts. “Yeah, right.” He takes his fingers to his nose. “Ew! This smells awful!”
Bob tries no to smile. “Don't overdo it with the child thing or I won't let you play with the stove again,” he says trying to summon his best mentor-like tone of voice.
“It won't happen again, I promise.” Harry cleans his hand with a cloth he has on he working bench for that effect. Then, he sets his eyes on the pot's bubbles. He's quiet and thoughtful for a while and, suddenly, he says, “Can you imagine it? Harriet Dresden, Witch for Hire. I think it has a ring. Do you think it has a ring, Bob?”
“I could imagine it if I wanted to.”
“But you don't want to.”
“Well spotted. Begin to stir the potion clockwise until it turns bright blue. Slowly.”
“Okay.” Harry does as Bob says, his eyes still fixed on the pot's content. “But, really, what would it be to have, you know, boobs?”
Bob rolls his eyes. “Oh, dear heaven! Harry, I was just making a joke!”
“And I'm just working on a hypothesis. But let me tell you, if I was a woman, I would never wear high heels. Though I'm sure I'd look quite good on a miniskirt.”
Bob sighs. “If you really want to try it temporarily, I can tell you how.”
That certainly gets Harry's attention. “Huh?”
“Being a woman. I know a way, but it's rather... messy.”
Harry raises and eyebrow.
Bob continues. “One of the ingredients has a lot to do with real women and the phases of the moon.”
Harry gapes at the ghost.
“I'm sure it would be easy for you to get it, Harry. If I may suggest you start by asking Lt. Murphy? Judging by the mood she was in when she came by this morning...”
“Are you crazy, Bob? I can't possibly ask Murphy for—for that! She'll kill me!”
“You could also obtain some from a public restroom, but then it'd be harder to get a decent amount from the same woman.”
Harry spends the next several seconds trying to articulate a coherent phrase. He finally manages it. “Bob, you know what? I think we'll all be happier if this topic is out of bounds for us from now on.”
“I happen to agree. Stir slower or you'll end up with a mess and you'll have to do everything from the top again,” Bob adds after a pause.
“I'm on it, I'm on it!”
And, thus, they never speak of the matter again.
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