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Downtime is a Foreign Concept

Author: ciaranbochna
Title: Downtime is a Foreign Concept

Length: 459
Characters: Harry/Karrin, mention of Butters

Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor Mr. Butcher's world.
Spoilers: Up to Skin Game, just to be safe, though nothing is mentioned here
A/N: Written for this prompt on comment_fic   The Dresden Files, Karrin Murphy/Harry Dresden, Present. I used the abstract concept, just because.


“They’re so delicate. The detail is mesmerizing. How does anyone see, creating patterns so tiny?”

“Dresden, I warn you, continue to malign my grandmother’s crocheted doilies and I will cause damage even the Winter Knight can’t recover from.”

“Karrin, I’m being sincere! I have spells that aren’t this complicated. Well, a few of them anyway.” He swears that the house becomes smaller, darker. Watching him carefully.

“Fine. There may have been a trace of sarcasm in my—Ow, Stop! OK, OK! I will never speak ill of the beautiful doilies again.”

“See that you don’t, Dresden.”

“But really, the detail in these things is amazing. I’m impressed.”

“I’m sure my grandmother would thank you, now sit.”

“How can one person live among so much pastel? It’s like living inside an Easter egg, only you can’t break it and escape.”

“Harry!”

“Right. Use of actual name. Crossed a line again. Noted. Can I make you apologetic coffee in a flower-patterned pot?”

“I’ll consider it. What the hell, Harry? Why can’t you sit still? How much sugar have you consumed today?”

“Do you know that they give the Winter Knight whatever he wants? And the donuts. God doesn’t make donuts that taste like this. Maybe a demon slipped them the recipe in trade, I don’t know. So. Many. Sprinkles. Gummi bear sprinkles, Murph!”

“Harry. Sit your ass down before I knock you out. You’re making me dizzy, pacing like that. There. Better? No, stop fiddling with the blanket Dresden. Tell me what is wrong or I will beat it out of you.”

“You say the sweetest things, Murph.”

“Harry.”

“Yeah. Well…it’s too quiet.”

“The house or everything else?”

“Everything. I don’t trust it. No one’s trying to kill me. Any of us.”

“Wait five minutes Harry. I’m sure once they spend time with you—you’re serious?”

“As Butter’s passion for the accordion, yes I am.”

“It’s temporary Dresden, enjoy it.”

“I don’t know how. I’ve lived—we’ve lived—on adrenaline for so long that if I’m not snatching moments from the jaws of death it just doesn’t feel earned.”

“Harry Dresden. We have been through enough war and damage to have earned a bloody day to ourselves. I don’t even have words for how much I want to—”

“Karrin. I love it when you’re apoplectic with rage.”

“Asshole.”

“I’ve considered that as my new middle name.”

“You should, you aggravating idiot.”

“You’re such a softy Murph. Is that your phone?”

“It was. I smell burning plastic. Dammit.”

“Sorry. I’ll replace it. Scout’s honour.”

“You were never a scout, Dresden.”

“True. But you know I’ll figure something out. I’m crafty that way.”

“You probably will. The phone does have to be pink, and vintage rotary dial.”

“If you insist.”

“Damn straight.”

Comments

caffienekitty
Jan. 5th, 2015 12:07 pm (UTC)
Hee!
ciaranbochna
Jan. 5th, 2015 03:04 pm (UTC)
:)